#edit: i KNOW amazing men are allowed to exist and not be attracted to me lollllll but still i am trying to get the sadness out of my chest
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#God if he's not an option WHY is he the only boy ive ever met who is this emotionally intelligent and mature and God-fearing#and not afraid of vulnerability and has such strong principles that he just straight up says No i will not when he knows he should not#and the only guy who's ever been able to tell when i'm sad when i'm trying to hide it (and is able to read me surprisingly well)#and who is gentle and humble and wants children and genuinely wants to prioritize his future family#and the only guy who i know and can trust is both a servant-hearted and honourable leader AND a attentive and compassionate listener#and who does SO MUCH for everyone in the background and never asks for applause or praise#AND is the only guy i'm this comfortable around (this is a FIRST) and can talk to for hours. why!!!!!!!!#why must he check all the boxes!!!!#also why must he have such beautiful eyes. they are GORGEOUS.#obnoxiously beautiful blue eyes that are just. very focused and gentle and tender. yes i also hate that i notice this#anyway literally HOW many times have i prayed the liturgy for the death of a dream from every moment holy this year. HOW MANY TIMES#i KNOWWWW it will never happen i KNOW this and yet!!!!! it's like i wake up and agonize over it all over again#why must he be like one of the loveliest people i know!!! why must it be like this!!!!#edit: i KNOW amazing men are allowed to exist and not be attracted to me lollllll but still i am trying to get the sadness out of my chest#as irrational as it may be at times#the waiting room chapter
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line without a hook.
mingi x reader; lovers to strangers au
word count: 13k
angst, fluff (tw: mentions of death)
you could personally never understand one’s desire to run as far away from their hometown as they could.
maybe it’s because you’ve had the privilege of growing up in a beautiful, prosperous place, with cozy winters, amazing festivals and snowfalls on the frozen lake before spring came and melted it away.
maybe it’s because you have fond memories tied back to this picturesque place, shops and restaurants surrounding the lake in a way that almost seemed too magical to really exist.
you’ve met so many different people purely because of that sight, men and women of different cultures and backgrounds always so eager to take in your hometown’s natural beauty.
fortunately for you, the lake ran right through your yard and acted as a place of solace where you could get away from everything in the busy, touristy town.
a place you went when you were feeling happy, sad, angry or when, truthfully, you didn’t know how to feel.
it’s also where you first met your boyfriend, one of the many come and go visitors, who introduced himself as mingi.
except he had walked right through your backyard like he owned the place, a small smile on his handsome face as he took in the sight of the frozen water.
he looked at it with such wonder and fascination, like he’d never seen anything like it before in his life; and you can remember that night, even with how you’re feeling right now, that he looked at you the same way.
it’s the only thing that reminds you, at some point, you two must have really loved each other.
two years ago - december 13th
you were hunched over your desk finishing the last of your final essay, only a page left before you could throw every syllabus away and rejoice at having two months of winter break.
it was a chilly night but you couldn’t help but be outside on the porch, a big warm sweater and fuzzy socks on as you read over your work so far.
you’d gotten used to the sounds of nature, the chirping of birds, pitter patter of animal feet and even the loud, slightly terrifying barks of deer.
but the footsteps crunching on the leaves in your driveway definitely weren’t those of chipmunks or rabbits, your strained neck craning over to see a tall figure walking right past your porch and deep into your backyard.
strangely enough, whether it be the frigid temperatures getting to you or the stress of finishing this paper, you weren’t panicked; the man technically wasn’t even on your property, he was right outside of it along the grass that turned to decking.
so you continued to make revisions and edit your paper silently, your eyes fluttering up ever so often to check on the mysterious, tall figure. his shoulders were broad and his hair was messy, that much you could tell from your spot on the porch.
when five minutes past, then ten, then twenty, and he had still yet to move or realize he was in someone’s yard, you decided to investigate - because one, how long could he really stare at this frozen mass of water and two, your head was pounding from looking at this stupid document.
so without an ounce of fear or hesitation, you wrapped your sweater tighter around your body and made your way down to the man.
your slippers were loose so the last remaining bits of snow were seeping into your socks, a slight grimace on your face when the coldness touched your skin.
the sound of crunching snow caused him to turn around, his lips quirking up into a small smile when you came into view.
it was when you got closer that you saw just how attractive he was, pale skin that glowed, plump lips that were slightly chapped and messy hair that looked even better up close.
he looked different than most locals and tourists around here, many of them pastel wearing men who wouldn’t dare stick an earring in their skin.
but the man in front of you had a completely different vibe, earrings and chains and a gray t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest despite the freezing temperatures tonight.
a few minutes of silence pass, neither him nor you concerned about filling it; it seemed as if he could’ve stared at the lake just as long as you could’ve wondered why the hell he liked it so much.
“aren’t you cold?”
more silence passed and for a second you think maybe he didn’t hear your blurted out question.
but then you discover he did when he looked at you with a smirk, the snow crackling underneath him as he shifts to take in your big sweater and pink slippers.
“no.”
it’s a short and simple response but his voice is somehow incredibly warm, looking at you with a twinge of soft light in his eyes before he opens his mouth again.
“why? are you?”
a confused smile pulls at your lips as you shake your head, looking over his bare (muscular) arms conspicuously.
“no. but i’m not wearing a t-shirt in december.”
he sends a smile your way, his large body turning allowing you to fully take in just how big he is. you feel incredibly small next to him and it should probably make you nervous - a large, stranger unwelcomed in your yard and staring down at you.
but there’s a weird sense of tranquility over both of you in this moment, the moon shining off the frozen lake as his gaze meets yours.
“well that’s a good thing,” he hums, your eyebrow quirking up before he continues. “because i don’t have a jacket to give you.”
a surprised chuckle leaves your mouth that has a smile spreading across your face and he feels his own doing the same at the sight of it.
“what makes you think i’d take a jacket from a stranger?”
his eyebrow raises after a few seconds of pondering the rhetorical question, his large hand suddenly coming between your bodies.
“my name’s mingi. i’m staying a few houses over at my aunt’s for the holidays.”
your lips purse together as you wrack your brain for which neighbor it could possibly be, remembering that the woman who brought you left over lasagna for thanksgiving mentioned her nephew was coming for christmas and new years.
she didn’t mention that her nephew looked like this or that he went onto the property of anyone he pleased.
“i’m y/n,” you say, taking your smaller hand in his cold one before a teasing smiles crosses your face. “and we’re actually standing in my backyard. so thank you for trespassing so politely, mingi.”
his eyes widen as an embarrassed look crosses his face, the small hint of pink on his cheeks just as endearing as it is humorous.
“i- i’m so sorry, oh, my god,” he chuckles out, your cold hands still intertwined. “my aunt said i could take the first road i saw to get to the lake. that there was a better view down here than from her house.”
and you can see in his eyes the exact moment his next sentence came into his mind, like he thought it was gonna be the smoothest and coolest thing he’d ever said.
“and it looks like she was right.”
the loud laugh that bubbles out of you is uncontrollable, mingi’s quickly following as his cheeks turn even more pink.
“sorry, i couldn’t help myself,” he mumbles sheepishly, sounding completely unapologetic as he finally pulls his hand away from yours; you try not to think about how much colder your hand feels now, quickly sticking it in the pocket of your sweater to compensate.
“right,” you quip, a tiny giggle leaving you as you crane your neck to meet his gaze. “but really, you should probably get a jacket if you’re gonna be out here a lot. you don’t wanna get sick and it can get pretty cold here.”
“will do,” he hums, his eyes roaming yours and making your heart jump in your chest; he really is the most attractive person you’ve ever seen.
there’s a few beats of silence as he cranes his neck to look out at the lake, eyes roaming what seems like every piece of frozen ice and snowy tree surrounding it.
“my aunt actually told me people sometimes skate on it.”
“yeah,” you confirm with a nod, taking the time to look at the beauty you take for granted every day. “it’s thick enough this year. sometime we’re not allowed.”
“cool,” he says with a smile, a slight shiver running through him that makes you frown. “so... can i come back here to do that?” he asks, his eyes hopeful and soft as he looks at you. “or should i use the real path?”
your eyebrows pull together at his question, confusion covering your face but only meeting his cocky, playful one.
“are you asking if we can skate together?”
he bites down on his lip so he doesn’t smile larger, his tongue peeking out just before his teeth make contact.
“yeah,” he hums lowly, the deep tone of his voice sending butterflies through your stomach. “i guess i am.”
your lips quirk to the side as you weigh out the pros and cons.
you’re on your own a lot and definitely miss talking to someone.
he’s attractive and funny and seemingly nice enough.
you know his aunt and can easily confirm his story, the chances of him being a murderer who moseyed into town considerably low.
the only con you can think of is falling on your ass in front of him and even that it isn’t such a deal breaker.
so you smile at him and nod your head, a melodic “okay,” leaving your mouth that has him smiling back at you just as sweetly.
present day:
you knew going to this dinner with mingi was gonna end in disaster.
you were both too on edge after your fight this morning, past the point of screaming and yelling for hours that, now, you’ll exchange a few harsh words at each other before falling silent.
you’ve learned that the tense silence after a fight is worse than screaming and yelling.
at least with that, it seems as if there’s still some passion there. there’s words being exchanged and feelings coming to the surface that both people feel motivated enough to express.
but with the silence, you’re both bottling it up.
deeming it useless and letting it brew and brew and brew until one of you goes completely over the edge - and more often than not, that person is him.
the car ride over is no better, not even the radio playing to distract you both from the building tension in the air.
your friends know immediately that something is up, yunho eyeing mingi and san eyeing you; yunho, san, seonghwa, and wooyoung had been your friends since elementary school.
you’d been through a lot with them and have seen each other at all your highs and lows.
throughout your two-year relationship with mingi, him and yunho had grown especially close and it was sweet to see; you knew it was important for mingi to have another friend in a place he didn’t grow up in and you were genuinely happy they created a great friendship.
“hey guys!” wooyoung chirped happily, already chowing down on the chips and salsa in the middle of the table. “how is everyone?”
and like he’s almost oblivious to the tension in the room, mingi only mumbles a grumbled “fine,” before he starts happily babbling again. you try a little harder to put up on a happy front, giving wooyoung a small smile as you talk to him about your last semester of school.
as the dinner goes on, appetizers turning to meals and meals turning to alcohol, mingi downs sangria after sangria before he becomes a lot more chatty.
“oh, shit, there he is,” wooyoung smiles happily, a drunken flush to his face as he pokes his arm playfully. “you were scaring me for a hot second. looking all pissed off and shit.”
“that’s because i was pissed off. still am, if i’m being honest, woo,” mingi says, a conniving hint in his tone as he finishes the last of his drink.
your eyes immediately move to him and you’re quick to narrow them, hoping and praying he doesn’t start round two in this public restaurant right now; but apparently, that’s exactly what he plans on doing.
“what’s with the face, y/n?”
mingi spits your name out like it’s the last thing he wants to say, a quietly snapped “nothing,” leaving your mouth.
san and yunho look to each other immediately, concern on both their faces as they feel the tension start creeping back up.
they knew something was wrong the second you both came in, have known things have been off between you two for months, and it was even more obvious when you immediately took the seats a few spots away from each other.
“nothing?” he asks, his voice deep and gravely due to his anger and the alcohol. “because it sure looks like you wanna say something.”
“i don’t have anything to say to you.”
“you never do, do you, babe?” he asks, his humorless laugh and vindictive tone making your skin prickle.
“did you even miss me?”
your eyes meet his from across the table when he finally speaks, your eyebrow raising as you two stare at each other blankly.
he had left two nights ago after telling you he needed space, not hearing a word from him until he came barreling through the door just a few moments ago at seven a.m.
you’d just gotten up to make yourself coffee, plagued with worry and upset over your fight and his lack of communication.
“maybe if you looked at your phone, you’d know.”
because how could he think you wouldn’t miss him? how could he think you’re actually okay with him leaving after every fight? not hearing from him for a day or two while you stay in this apartment and let your mind go off into every worst case scenario.
a humorless laugh can only leave him as he shakes his head.
“of course you’re putting the blame back on me. i just can’t make you happy, can i, y/n?”
“you staying after a fight would make me happy. but of course, you can’t do that for me, can you?”
he doesn’t say anything and instead just clenches his jaw painfully tight.
you watch it tick dangerously and instead of feeling anger or sadness, you just feel utterly defeated; you don’t know how many times you guys have had this exact conversation.
a fight will happen.
he yells, you cry.
you just want him to see your tears and obvious pain and stop the yelling.
hold you and kiss your hair and mumble that you guys are gonna figure this out and get passed it.
he leaves, you stay silent.
he just wants you to fight for him a little.
call him out on his shit and prove to his insecure self that you still love and care for him, even though he’s a dick. ask him to please stay because he wants to figure this out and get passed it.
but then he comes back and you’re both okay for a bit, just for the cycle to repeat itself over and over.
“is that why you leave, mingi?” you speak again, looking at him curiously as you shake your head.
“make me sit here and worry about you for days, while you purposely ignore me, just so i can tell you i miss you? is that what you want?”
the words are on the tip of his tongue. that yes, that’s exactly what he wants from you.
but the words are also on the tip of your tongue. that you want his first instinct to be to stay. to stay here and talk things out with you before immediately jumping up to flee.
he wants you to tell him you miss him but you want him to tell you he loves you, that he loves you enough to stay when you guys fight; but right now, neither of you are even sure if that’s true anymore.
“i don’t know about y/n, you guys,” mingi says suddenly at dinner, the drunken slur to his voice evident to everyone. “i love her but sometimes.... i think i actually fucking hate her.”
you feel your heart sink when those words leave his mouth, your face dropping just as the boys call out his name roughly.
“mingi, what the fuck,” san growls from across the table; but the boy is completely unbothered, shrugging his broad shoulders as he looks directly at you.
“how ‘bout you, babe? how do you feel about me?” he asks, leaned back against his chair like he’s completely calm, cool and collected.
“i’m not having this discussion with you right now.”
“you never want to have this discussion,” he mocks, the anger and rage in his eyes only making your blood boil even more.
“i’m getting tired of it, y/n. i’m getting tired of all this shit.”
his voice is raising and you’re becoming increasingly embarrassed, knowing that the last place for this blowout fight is in front of your friends in a public setting.
“mingi, this really isn’t the place to-”
“shut up, yunho, we’re gonna finally-”
but you’re not intending on doing anything, already feeling humiliated and belittled as you get up from your seat and walk toward the door.
you leave your bag and jacket so the boys know you’re not leaving, hoping and praying that your drunk asshole of a boyfriend follows you outside; and sure enough, two minutes later, you smell his familiar cologne when the door opens.
neither of you say anything for the first few seconds, him leaned against the wall and you facing him with your hands on your hips.
“what’s your problem?”
it’s the first thing you think to ask, looking at him with such concern and defeat in your eyes.
you hope he can see it but you’re sure he can’t, far too absorbed in whatever he’s been going through for the past few months to notice.
“i don’t have a problem.”
“you obviously do,” you snap, your voice raising as you take a step closer to him.
“you just embarrassed me in front of everyone and you’re acting like a fucking child. we could’ve had this conversation at the house instead of not speaking for days.”
“why? so you could just turn shit around on me or ignore what i’m saying?” he snaps back, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at you. “maybe we need an outside source to listen.”
“not our friends, mingi, and not at a public dinner when you’re getting drunk.”
“you always have an answer for everything, don’t you?” he snaps, his jaw clenching and eyes flaring as he continues to peer down at you.
“and it’s always on me. when we tried to talk this morning, you blew me off, too, y/n. it’s like you don’t ever wanna have this discussion.”
“because i don’t know what you want me to say, mingi. how many times do i have to repeat myself and tell you i don’t know what you want from me?”
“have you ever thought that maybe that’s the fucking problem, y/n? that after all of this, you still don’t know what i want from you? are you fucking stupid?”
“are you fucking stupid?” you yell back, the suppressed anger and rage you knew was brewing boiling over right here and now.
“you want me to tell you that i miss you when you leave every other week, mingi? why would i tell someone that who could give a shit? i could tell you i miss you or that i’ll miss you and you’ll still fucking leave me.”
“how do you know?” he snaps, “you’ve never tried!”
“i’ve never tried?” you yelp, tears of frustration burning your eyes as you look at him.
“what’s me texting you when you leave like a little bitch every single time? or me obviously worrying when you pull that stupid shit over and over? i’ve been trying mingi and you don’t care! you leave me crying alone every single time!”
he meets your gaze with fire in his eyes and you can only stare back with tears in yours, waiting for him to scream something before he decides to kick over the metal garbage can a few feet away from you.
you watch as it clatters against the side walk, a loud, deep “fuck!” leaving him as you watch him blankly. his chest is heaving and you can tell he doesn’t know what to do with himself right now but you also don’t know anymore.
because you’re shaking inside and out and feel like you wanna throw up, knowing that right now you both look like the worst type of couple; but it’s nothing compared to how you feel, how even though you don’t want to, you can’t stop yourself from acting out on these negative feelings.
“and if i never try, mingi, then just leave again,” you say, tears blurring your vision and a lump growing in your throat. “you can stay and come home with me tonight. or you can leave. at this point, i’m too tired to care.”
you weren’t surprised to go home alone that night.
watch as seonghwa and yunho helped your boyfriend to their car and promised that he’d be back in a few days; you were only able to sleep soundly that night because you knew he was safe with them.
but it didn’t stop you from crying yourself to sleep that night, the night after that and the night after that for the next week; the same would’ve probably happened the next night, too, at least for a little bit, had you not heard your front door open just after midnight.
you were getting in one last episode of your drama when mingi returned home, craning your neck back to see him lazily kicking off his shoes at the front door.
his head looked up to meet your gaze, the glow of the tv hitting him just enough to tell you he looked like shit.
he had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was tousled messily, like he hadn’t washed it since you last saw him. his face was sunken and pale as if he’d been away in the wild for months opposed to his friend’s house for just a little over a week.
but when he’s away from you, this is what happens each and every time - he can’t sleep or eat or function properly.
he’s only plagued with the thought of you, memories running through his mind or constantly wondering what you’re doing. if you’re safe and feeling okay or if something bad is gonna happen to you because he’s not there.
the couch dips next to you before you feel his skin graze yours, a quietly mumbled “hey,” like he just came in from work casually spoken through the air.
you crane your neck up at him to look in his sunken eyes, an uncontrollable frown on your face as you swipe your finger across his purple skin.
it’s the softest touch he’s received in a week and he’s missed it more than he cares to admit. shutting his eyes and smiling slightly when he hears you mumble “hi” back.
you bask in each other’s comfort and warmth for the rest of the episode in silence, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm wound tightly around you until the tv screen falls black.
you two walk into bed and he pulls you down with him, your head falling to his chest and his hands in your hair. you moan against him sleepily and it’s a sound he’s missed so dearly, tightening his hold on you as he feels his body immediately relax.
you’re both completely comfortable and at ease, days of worrying finally calmed as you’re beside one another again.
but even with this comfort, even with the familiar feel of each other’s skin and warmth soothing both of you, you know it won’t be enough.
because you still don’t say you missed him and he still doesn’t tell you he loves you.
a year and 11 months ago - january 10th
you weren’t sure if it was possible to fall in love in less than a month but it really felt as if you and mingi did.
from the moment you saw him two days after your initial meeting, skating together and braving the frozen lake together, your connection was immediate.
you’d spent everyday with each other, frolicking through the town in the afternoon before going back to your house at night.
you usually spent it cuddled up on the couch or making food in your kitchen, his arms wrapping around your waist before tossing you up on the counter playfully.
“you didn’t strike me as a chef,” you tell him, watching him stir a pot of noodles with a content look on his face.
“well, i didn’t strike you as a rapper either,” he says, a smirk on his face as a giggle leaves your mouth.
you learned that mingi was an aspiring rapper, him and his friend hongjoong trying to get their foot in the door for the past year. you listened to a few of their songs and even got a live performance from him, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed as you watched him.
in a fit of absolute astonishment, because you didn’t think mingi could get any more attractive, you blurted out that he didn’t seem like a rapper. that his personality was too “cute and charming” despite the deep growl to his raps and voice.
“i told you just personality wise,” you whine with a pout, reaching your hand out to squeeze his arm reassuringly. “but appearance wise, absolutely. you’re very tough. very cool looking. i’m scared of you.”
“you’re making this a lot worse for yourself, baby,” he hums lowly, another giggle leaving your mouth as you bite down on your lip.
“did your friend hear back from that producer yet?” you ask him curiously, your legs criss-crossed as you sit on the counter and peer up at him.
he looks over to see you staring at him all wide-eyed and interested, a soft, happy glint in your gaze that makes his heart pull in his chest.
he hasn’t even known you for a month but he’s never been this happy before.
he’s never had anyone be there for him the way you’ve been, dedicating their time to him and being so actively interested and supportive of his decisions; it also doesn’t help that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever met, both inside and out, that made him extend his trip a week longer.
he couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to you yet and he’s still not sure if he can; he’s grown incredibly attached to you and it’s something he’s never felt before.
something all consuming and magical that’s making him incredibly vulnerable.
“not yet,” he mumbles, his eyes roaming your face.
your eyebrows pull together when you notice the way he’s looking at you, soft and sweet with a fondness that makes your heart flutter dangerously.
“why are you looking at me like that?”
a smile crosses his face as he lowers the heat on the stove, caging your body in and cocking his head to the side. he bites down on his lip when he sees your eyes widen, a large hand coming up to push pieces of hair out of your face.
“because i’m happy i met you.”
a small, touched smile pulls at your lips as you peer up at him, raising your own hand to smooth out the chain around his neck.
your fingers brush against his warm skin and it’s like there’s electricity coursing through both of you, your bodies close and hot breath wafting together.
“i’m happy i met you too, mingi.”
his heart soars at the way you say his name, eyes falling to your lips as he presses himself closer to you. you push yourself against the cabinets, swallowing the lump in your throat when you follow his gaze.
your tongue peeks out to lick over them unconsciously, your own eyes falling to his lips. you feel your stomach swoop dangerously, wanting so badly to feel them on yours - they’re one of the first things you noticed about him.
“y/n?”
“hm?” you hum, your eyes lingering on his mouth before hazily meeting his eyes; and there you see it, the soft intensity you’ve yet to grow used to.
you’ve seen this look from him more times than you can remember despite the short time you’ve known each other.
on the lake when you two were skating, grasping each other’s hands and giggling as you tried to keep yourselves from falling back.
in town when your hands bumped and you’d stop dead in your tracks to look at each other, completely unaware of the people around you giving each other knowing looks.
on the couch when you’d allow your head to rest on his shoulder, cuddling closer to him because the weather is really cold for january and you need body heat.
but it’s never been as strong as it now.
your heart’s never been beating this fast and you haven’t been able to feel his own pounding against his chest. probably because he was nervous to ask-
“can i kiss you?”
neither of you can remember what happened after he uttered those words.
just that one minute, he said it and the next, your mouths were connected. parting on one another’s as he completely caged your body with his.
your arms wound around his neck and he hummed contently against your mouth, slipping his tongue in when you started playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
he had half the mind to turn off the stove before carrying you to the couch, your legs wound tightly around his waist as every hint of desire and want overtook you.
he plopped himself down as you situated yourself on his lap, lips never disconnecting. you moaned against him when you felt his body underneath yours, tongues colliding and mouths pulled into smiles.
his hands gripped onto your hips gently, pulling your body closer to his as your kisses grew hungrier and more intense.
you finally pulled apart for air with heaving chests and red, puffy lips, your eyes meeting and every hint of vulnerability and longing in them.
“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he finally says softly, almost whispering it in fear that someone else would hear.
but this house is empty. it always is and it has been for quite some time.
until you met him and he completely changed your life.
now there were two pairs of shoes at the door and two empty cups in the sink. there was someone to talk to and someone to be in the silence with.
because you’ve learned over this past month that even a silence with someone else is way better than the silence of being alone.
“me... me too,” you admit shyly, a warm blush creeping up on your face. “i’m... really, really happy you’re here, mingi.”
his eyes widen when he sees tears well up in your eyes, his mouth pulled into a frown as he brings his hands to your face.
but you only shake your head before he can comment on it, placing your hand atop his before connecting your lips again.
he meets the kiss with the fervor you need, everything about it soft and sweet and passionate. like you guys know time is running out and you need to fit it all in.
“that producer got back to me and wants to meet in person so you’ll be home next week, yeah?” hongjoong asked mingi over the phone, the boy laid out on his bed a few days later.
he can only keep replaying the memory of you in his mind, the tone of your voice and the teary look in your eye when you told him how happy you were that he’s been here.
there was a certain type of sadness behind you that he hasn’t been able to shake, making it incredibly hard for him to pick a day to just pack up his car and go.
“i... uh. i don’t know, yet.”
“what?” hongjoong asked.
him and mingi had been waiting to meet producers for months, getting either put on a list or straight up rejected. and now when they have a chance, “you don’t know yet?”
mingi licks over his lips as he hears the disbelief in his friend’s voice, knowing that hongjoong won’t be able to believe this. they’ve been waiting for this moment ever since they were in high school and had the dream of rapping as a duo.
he was only supposed to be here for a few days and now it was almost a month. what could possibly be keeping him there? what could possibly have made mingi-
“what could you possibly not know, mingi? we’ve been waiting for this moment for years. you even extended your trip for a bullshit reason thinking i’d really buy it.”
“okay but my aunt really did need help around the house...” he mumbles because yes, she needed help around the house as she redid her bathroom but she was quick to hire professionals so, technically not a lie.
“so what, what’s your excuse this time? did you meet some chick?”
there’s a silence that stretches over the phone for what feels like hours, mingi attempting to find any words before hongjoong lets out a loud groan.
“a girl? mingi, are you fucking kidding me?”
“i really like her, hongjoong,” mingi tells his friend, a sweet genuineness and innocence in his deep tone. “i really, really like her and i... i don’t think i can leave her yet.”
he reluctantly opens up to hongjoong about you, telling him that you’re in school and live alone in this quiet little lake town. that you and him have been spending every second together and he’s never felt this way about anyone before.
“i’m happy for you, man, i really am,” hongjoong says, never having heard his friend talk like this before. “but i mean... is she worth changing your plans? what the hell is there for you?”
he wants to say that you. you’re there.
the girl he’s known for less than a month but has gotten him so tight around her finger - and once he leaves, will still be here.
except she’ll be within the walls of her house all alone again, in a town based off people coming and going where she’s never seemed to have a stable relationship with anyone.
where she now knows what it’s like to spend every day with someone and look forward to their company every morning and night. spend hours talking until the sun rises and sleep until it’s dark out.
“i wouldn’t be changing my plans that much. i still have our music, hongjoong. we can still do shit even if i live here.”
“live there?!? hongjoong blurts out, “you’ve been there for a less than a month, dude, that’s fucking crazy. you’ve barely know her and you’re gonna move there?”
“i can’t leave her.”
he didn’t think at the time that it was crazy. he didn’t think he’d ever come to regret that decision because, at the time, he really couldn’t imagine leaving you.
he couldn’t picture himself hugging you goodbye and telling you that you’d keep in touch via texting and facetime.
he couldn’t picture going back home with a genuine smile on his face when it felt as if he left behind something, someone, would could make him the happiest he’s ever felt.
he couldn’t picture that he’d ever come to resent you because when he told you he was gonna consider staying in town longer, a bit more permanently, the smile that lit up your face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“really?” you smile, jumping up from your spot on the couch and running over to him.
you’re so smiley and happy and bouncy until you’re not, your face dropping ever so slightly when you look over his face.
“but wait... what about the producer? did he ever answer?”
“he did. hongjoong’s meeting with him tomorrow.”
your eyes widen at the news but he’s quick to cut you off, bend down and press a long, lingering kiss to your lips before scooping you up into his arms.
“but i told him there was something better for me here.”
present day:
he wasn’t sure when the resentment started.
he just knew that, one minute he loved you, and the next, he started to question everything.
it could’ve been from seeing hongjoong’s success, album after album and talk of him all over social media right in his face every day.
it could’ve been his lack of success, pursuing a music degree via online school while still keeping up with his previously established career as a rapper; it was enough to get the bills paid and keep his name lingering around but that’s all it was now.
it could’ve been that all of his passion was gone and he blamed you for that; because if it weren’t for you, he’d be with hongjoong now. he’d be making money and feeling inspired and at the peak of his creativity and motivation.
but he loves you, right? he loves you more than he’s loved anyone in the world and he made the right decision.
“sometimes i question if i made the right decision.”
it was a relativity quiet night for you and mingi, the past few days calm and uneventful, so you knew a fight was bound to happen soon.
and with that statement, it seemed as if the night was quickly headed in that direction.
“what do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your textbook.
he was sat on the love seat opposite you, computer in his lap and a beer on the side table as he watched you. he’d been wordlessly watching you all night and you hadn’t been sure what to make of it.
now, you can see, he might’ve been watching you with disdain.
“i mean i sometimes wonder if i made the right decision in staying here. just... so quickly not accepting that producer’s offer with hongjoong’s.”
his words hurt you more than you let on, your stomach sinking and knotting as you let his words sink in.
you had asked him for weeks after he made that decision if he was sure.
if something he worked so hard on and something he looked forward to for so long was something was worth giving up.
and anytime you asked, he’d say the same thing.
“you’re worth it.”
you wonder now if he said it so many times to qualm your ever present worries or to convince himself. tell himself over and over again that, yes this girl is worth staying here and no, i won’t come to resent her.
it’s something you worried about in the beginning but faded with time.
because your love grew stronger and you both became more secure. your relationship was the closest thing to perfect you’d ever experienced.
but not now.
now it’s a fucking disaster.
“where did that even come from?”
you can hear to your own ears how shaky and unsure your voice sounds. it’s filling you with as much shame as it does embarrassment, knowing that you can’t even talk to your own boyfriend openly and honestly.
without feeling upset, like you know you have to walk on eggshells or can’t express how much he’s been hurting you.
“i don’t know, i’ve just been thinking,” he hums, taking a swig of his beer as he adjusts himself on the couch.
you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, only humming lowly as you nod your head.
you lick over your lips as you look back down uncomfortably, blankly staring at the words of your textbook. your brain can’t absorb any of the terms or phrases on the page, the sinking, awful feeling in your stomach taking over.
you can’t even remember how long you’ve felt like this.
when butterflies turned to this gut wrenching, awful feeling.
like the feeling before a plane takes off or you have a presentation to do or when the one person you’ve loved in this world has decided they don’t want you anymore.
“i stayed for you.”
the words you feared hearing pierce the air and you hold back a shaky breath, biting the inside of your cheek so harshly you’re hit with the metallic taste blood.
you look up and see his eyes narrowed in on you, tears burning the back of yours as you beg them not to fall.
because you can’t keep crying in front of him just for him to ignore you. to just watch you lose it with a blank look in his eyes, instead of holding you or attempting to soothe you.
“i couldn’t leave you alone in your house,” he begins, like the words he’s rationalizing in his head are coming out of his mouth uncontrollably.
“i wasn’t ready to leave you yet and i didn’t even think twice about how i would feel in the future. because i was so fucking consumed by you, y/n.”
there’s an obvious and palpable pain in his voice and it makes your gut wrench even more; you hate that he’s in pain but you’re in pain, too. you were in pain before him and now you’re in pain because of him.
“i’m still consumed by you but i feel...angry now. i feel so fucking angry, y/n, and i don’t know why. i don’t know if i’m mad at you or myself but i know i stayed for you. if i never met you, i never would’ve stayed here and now i feel like i’m stuck.”
“but i never asked you to stay, mingi,” you whimper out, the tears quickly coming to the surface.
they’re a mix of sadness and frustration, because it hurts so much hearing this, the obvious regret in his words, but it also makes you mad - that was his choice and his choice alone.
and it’s like he knows that too. because he doesn’t say anything in response, just continues to stare at you with a look in his eye that breaks your heart.
“i asked you so many times if you were okay with doing that,” you begin after moments of silence, your teary, wet gaze meeting his. “i asked you again and again because i knew you’d come to regret it.”
“i’m not saying i regret it, i’m just saying i-”
“you’re saying you stayed here for me like it’s my fault,” you say, shaking your head as tears leak from your eyes and down your cheek. “like i asked you to and like meeting me was your downfall. but i never told you to and i would’ve never ever expected you to.”
“what, so i was just supposed to leave you alone?” mingi growls lowly, emotion behind his tone that’s almost masked by the brashness.
he can’t help but feel all of this coming up, all of these feelings he’s been going through these past months and making him a completely different person.
“why would i have left you when i knew i loved you?”
neither of you focused on loved being past tense, probably because it’s a fact both of you know by now.
“i didn’t want anything else but you in that moment.”
“do you want a prize, mingi?” you snap, every defensive and defeated emotion coursing through your veins.
“you could’ve left me alone. you could’ve just left the way you wished you did so fucking badly. you would’ve saved yourself all of this obvious regret.”
“you think i regret staying with you?” he asks, his voice low and deep as he rises from the chair.
his frame is tall and broad and looming as he walks closer to you, standing over your chair as you sit there and stare up at him. his eyes roam your face and he follows the few tears rolling down your cheeks, his hands stiffly hanging at his sides.
he used to hate seeing you cry.
it used to make him wanna destroy whatever was hurting you. he used to kiss your tears away and wouldn’t let you leave his arms until you were smiling and laughing again.
“well, what do you call this?” you whimper quietly, sniffling and stuffy and feeling small tears stream down your face.
“you basically said if it weren’t for me, you’d be happier with your life. and i... i was so happy when you decided to stay, mingi, i’m not gonna lie to you. i was so happy because i knew we would love each other so much,” you whimper out, the knot in your throat making it difficult to speak.
“but i also knew that one day, you would probably regret it and resent me. it’s why i asked you over and over and over again. because i was so scared this was gonna happen.”
his mouth grows dry as he licks over his lips, a burning behind his eyes as he hears your voice break. he’s quick to shake his head and blink away the tears, though, because he knows if he starts crying, he’s never gonna stop.
“i thought you would leave with me eventually,” he’s finally able to get out, his throat clogged and voice gruff as he voices his innermost thoughts and wishes.
you compromised for him once, why wouldn’t you do it again?
“i thought if you actually loved me the way you claimed to, you’d be able to go.”
“well, i was always honest with you about that too,” you murmur, feeling utterly defeated and guilty as you meet mingi’s glossy eyes. “you know i never intend on leaving.”
a year and 5 months ago - june 19th
he learned about your parents accident on the 4th year anniversary of their death.
he had noticed that week you were especially gloomy, a sad look in your eye and the fake smile on your face making him cling to you just a bit more than usual.
and apparently, you had noticed too.
“mingi, are you okay?”
the words were muffled against his shirt, your face pressed against his chest as the two of you lay on the couch. his hand had been running up and down your back gently all night, like he’d been trying to calm you without any words.
like he knew there was something wrong, even though you hadn’t said a word.
his eyebrows pull together in confusion, placing his fingers under your chin. he lifts your face as his eyes search yours, that sad look behind them masked by a soft curiosity.
you’re trying to hide your pain because you think he’s hurting and that alone only makes him even more sad.
“of course i am, baby. but are you okay?”
you can’t find it in you to say yes so you only nod shyly, a small smile gracing your face as you look at him.
his eyes are full of such warmth and love that it makes tears prick behind your eyes, dropping your gaze quickly as you bury your face back in his chest.
the movement causes him to swallow nervously, adams apple bobbing as he presses his lips to the top of your head.
he knows something’s wrong. he knows something’s very wrong but he doesn’t know what happened or what’s brought this on.
“you can tell me anything,” he mumbles against your hair, his arms wrapped tightly around your body. “you know that, right?”
because he also noticed that you started seeming off when he mentioned moving in together, looking at apartments in town for himself before getting the idea to live with you.
you guys are already together all the time, it only made sense for you two to live together as well.
but he could tell immediately the idea unsettled you, you clutching desperately on to him as you muttered that you’d think about it.
at first, he would’ve assumed you didn’t wanna go that far with him. that it was too serious a commitment and you were completely uncomfortable with that.
but it was the way you were clinging to him, burying your face in his chest like you were begging him not to leave you that made him realize something deeper was going.
it’s why he dropped it at first. looked for apartments on his own with the idea that, best case scenario, you’d move in with him too.
could that be what’s wrong right now? you dealing with moving in with him and fears coming from that? or something else entirely?
he just knows that when he starts to hear you cry quietly into his chest, he needs to know what’s been wrong because he hates seeing you like this.
“hey, hey, hey,” his deep voice mumbles, large hands pulling you from his chest and wiping at your face. “what happened, baby? what’s wrong?”
and since you started crying about this, remembering the day and the circumstances around it so well, you won’t be able to stop. you can only continue to cry into him, tiny sobs wracking your body as you clutched onto him tightly.
“i... i can’t.”
you couldn’t talk, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t tell him, he wasn’t sure.
that’s why he shook his head and pulled you back into his chest, the warm safe place you’ve come to know so well and usually calmed you whenever you needed.
“i don’t know what’s wrong but i promise you’ll be okay,” you hear him mumble against your head, his hand running up and down your back gently. “i’ll try to help you in any way i can, baby, but i’m gonna need to know what’s wrong.”
but he can’t help you bring back your dead parents.
he can’t help you time travel the way you so desperately wish you could to tell yourself not to go on that senior trip.
that if you didn’t go, your parents never would’ve driven you to the airport and they never would’ve gotten in the car accident that took their life on the way back.
you’d spent a week in a foreign country while they spent a week in the hospital, your aunt and grandparents dealing with the repercussions before you came back and said your goodbyes in a dingy, hospital room.
mingi doesn’t know how long you both sat there in silence, your cries muffled against his chest and his arms wound tightly around you.
he loosened his hold immediately when he felt you try to pull away, watching as you stared at him, wiped your eyes and told him everything.
“my parents died four years ago, today.”
he watches with soft, sympathetic eyes and a breaking heart as you tell him about your guilt.
how if you just decided to stay home after weeks of begging them to go, they’d still be here.
“they didn’t have the money but i begged them for weeks, mingi,” you tell him, tears in your eyes and voice thick with emotion.
“i wanted to go so badly because all my friends were going and i was too selfish to see they really couldn’t afford it.”
he can tell you’re not done talking so he only presses his lips together and grasps your hand tightly. squeezes it reassuringly as his thumb gently rubs back and forth against your skin.
“they both worked overtime for two weeks straight and gave me the money the last day it was due. and i barely thanked them,” you remember, the scene you’ve replayed in your mind hundreds of times flashing yet again.
you jumped up from the couch and snatched the money from their hands, throwing your arms around them in a quick hug before screaming your thanks and running up to your room to tell your friends.
“a drunk diver hit them on their way home from the airport and the doctors couldn’t believe they both didn’t die on impact. a-and no one in my family could even call me so i said my goodbyes when i got home, in the hospital.”
you look to mingi with tears streaming down your cheeks and you see wetness in his own eyes, his hand grasping onto yours tight.
“i couldn’t even talk to them one last time. or hear their voices. i don’t even know if they heard me.”
your voice breaks off after that, not being able to handle recounting this after years of staying silent about it; he’s the first person you’ve talked to about this besides the counselor you saw a few months after their death.
he pulls you in his lap and wraps his arms tightly around you, rocking you back and forth as he presses his lips to your head.
your eyes are closed tight as you focus on his breathing and soft murmurs. his deep, full voice muttering sweet nothings and quiet reassurances.
that your parents did hear you and they loved you till the end.
that it was no one’s fault but the driver who decided to get in a car after getting drunk.
that you shouldn’t put any blame on yourself, because your parents would want you to be happy and thriving.
“i know but it’s just hard,” you tell him, you teary face pulling away from his wet chest.
you look around the living room full of books and wooden furniture, a family portrait hung above a cluttered-filled desk; it was taken when you were ten and you remember hating that day because you had to wear an uncomfortable dress and tights.
“i don’t know how i’m ever gonna leave this place,” you voice aloud to him, one of the many concerns that muddled your mind when you started deciding on college or jobs or moving in with your perfect boyfriend of almost a year.
“it’s the last thing i have of them. i don’t... i don’t know if i’d be ever to leave this place, mingi.”
not after what happened last time.
not wanting to leave the house you grew up in to strangers who would create more happy memories and replace the ones you made with your own parents.
his face contorts into one of sympathy and pain, his heart breaking as the obvious guilt and dread is in your eyes.
he’d always seen a bit of torment behind them but you were always able to smile.
laugh with him and tease him and push whatever demons he knew you had aside; but he started seeing it again when he mentioned moving in, fear and anxiety and discomfort that he hated to even see behind your eyes.
“i don’t know how that will effect us, it’s something i’ve thought about a lot recently,” you confess quietly, playing with the edge of the blanket nervously. “especially when you mentioned us moving in together. i... i want to, so bad, because i love you and i think it’d be fun. but... i can’t leave.”
your tears start up again and a frown crosses mingi’s face, his body hovering over yours as he takes your face in his big hands.
he wipes at the tears threatening to slide down your cheeks before placing his lips on your head, breathing slowly and calmly against you as his warm breath wafts over you.
“baby, i understand completely, i really do,” he says, everything making sense now but... “but i don’t think your parents would want you to... limit your life like this.”
because you obviously had an interest in seeing the world. you obviously wanted to see different places and cultures and sights in the world that even your precious little town doesn’t hold.
but he can see tonight isn’t the night you’re gonna see that, if the way you shake your head and bury yourself back in his chest doesn’t show that.
and because he loved you more than anything else in the world, he understood it. held you and kissed you and made sure you knew he’d be by your side in whatever way you needed.
it was with his patience and love and unconditional support that you were able to live with him. keep your parents house as a sense of security but slowly move yourself out of it.
leaving a toothbrush at the apartment, a few sets of clothes, some shampoos and soaps until one night, you were waking up and falling asleep with him every morning and night.
present day:
the fight that ended you and mingi was over a trip to disney.
something meant to be so childish and fun and innocent morphing into a blowout, gut-wrenching fight that left the two of distraught.
hit both of you with the realization that whatever you once had had fizzled out and turned so horribly toxic, you were both losing yourselves.
it had started with yunho, san and wooyoung planning the trip, mingi over their house one day after the tension in the apartment got too much. he had scoffed when san mentioned it at first, wondering what business they had as college going twenty-somethings booking a trip to disney.
“it’ll be sweet!” san said, “we could go to the parks for a few days, everyone loves roller coasters! and then we can drive down to the beach, go surfing and go to bars and shit. it’d be so much fun, guys.”
and the more all of them thought about it, the more excited they got. looking at flights and car rentals and getting all their swim suits in order - that was until mingi came back home a day later and informed you of these plans.
“me and the guys were talking about booking a trip to disney,” was the first thing he said to you. not a hello or how are you or sorry for leaving and making you worry for a week.
“oh?” you hummed quietly, looking up from your spot at the kitchen sink; you’d made breakfast for two just in case he came home early but it was another serving of eggs and bacon in the trash.
“yeah, so is that something you’d wanna do?”
there’s something off about his tone that you immediately pick up on. snippy and on edge and defensive, like he’s already fully prepared to break out into a fight.
because he already knows you won’t do it. you won’t leave the 70 mile radius you’ve trapped yourself nor will you even try to go out of your comfort zone for him and you or anyone else.
and quite frankly, he’s grown really fucking sick of it. call him selfish or call him someone looking out for you, someone who knows this type of living isn’t normal, he can’t deal with it anymore.
“i... well i mean...how would we get there? and when?”
“we were looking at flights three weeks from now,” he says, carefully observing your face with slightly cold eyes. carefully waiting for the next hint of a breakdown he’s not gonna properly respond to.
you bite the inside of your cheek as panic starts to stir in your chest.
you haven’t been anywhere since the accident. you’ve gotten yourself so used to this environment that going anywhere else seems terrifying.
but you’ve seen how bad things will happen when you try to venture out. you left to do the same and it cost your parents your life - who’s to say you wouldn’t get your karma soon?
leave mingi without a girlfriend he doesn’t even care about anymore or your grandparents without a granddaughter you can’t help but feel they blame for their child’s death.
tears are quick to prick your eyes as you try to push down all of these feelings, looking down at the floor in a move mingi already knows is dismissive.
you hear him scoff and it sends a flurry of emotions through you, not even needing to lift your head to know he’s shaking his head.
“figures,” he hums lowly, making extra noise as he puts down his bag or plops down on the dining room chair. “i don’t know why i bothered asking.”
“mingi...” you begin breathlessly, guilt and shame and sorrow filling you.
“no, y/n.”
his voice is firm and hard and makes you meet his gaze, the look he’s throwing you icy and completely empty. he’s done and you’re done and there’s basically a ticking time bomb between you two.
“you didn’t even let me give you an answer.”
“because i know what it’s gonna be!” he roars, feeling stupid for getting excited when he knew damn well you wouldn’t be able to leave. “i know you’re gonna make up some bullshit excuse about school or work or money and you’re gonna say no.”
you can’t say anything because you know he’s right. but what he doesn’t know is that you’re trying. you try every day and every week and every month to push yourself out of your comfort zone and it just doesn’t work.
you’ve tried going away with him and you’ve tried expanding your horizons - you’e even moved out of your parents house to live with him. but it’s hard when you’re constantly reminded by the fact that your decisions ended a life.
while it was technically the drunk driver’s fault, your survivors guilt heavily outweighs that. intrusive thought after intrusive thought until you start to question why you’re even still here, too.
“i’m trying, mingi,” you say, your voice shaky and defeated. “i’m trying but you don’t even see that.”
“how are you trying?” he asks, watching your dejected form a few feet away from him. “you haven’t done anything different since you moved in with me. we’ve been living the same life for the past two years, y/n.”
but you just remember how patient he was when you first tried moving in. how he was so patient and kind and gentle and was everything you needed him to be.
but he can just remember how much he loved you. how patient and understanding he was, not fully grasping the severity of what happened to you and how incapable he was of dealing with it.
“i’m... so fucking sick of it. i’ve grown to be so sick of you and i hate that, y/n. i hate feeling like this but it’s the truth.”
“and you don’t think i am?” you blurt out, the dam of tears breaking as you hear him say those specific words to you - i’ve grown to be so sick of you.
your frame is smaller and fragile and you’re like a shell of the person you were when you first met as you make your way up to him, looking over him with all the pain and exhaustion in your eyes.
“you don’t think i’m sick of feeling this way? of seeing how much you obviously hate me and are over this when i can’t stop feeling this way? because i’m sorry it’s been inconveniencing you, mingi, but it’s been ruining me, too. sometimes i can’t even believe i’m still here.”
the last part of your sentence stirs something in him but he can only focus on your broken state. watching as you grow weaker and weaker because of him.
“you haven’t even been helping me,” you suddenly say, words quiet and soft-spoke but filled with an obvious hurt. “i... i don’t know why you’d even wanna go on a trip with me because we’d just fight, mingi. we’d just fight and i’d cry and you’d leave me. th-that’s what we keep doing.”
tears burn the back of his eyes, a knot growing in his stomach so big it feels like he’s about to puke.
“because i don’t know what to do anymore, y/n,” he say, his voice less harsh but still holding a certain degree of bite. “i tried so hard with you and nothing seems to work. i loved you, i still love you, and i was there for you and i tried so hard with you but... i don’t know how to help you.”
“you think yelling is the way? or leaving me is the way?” you laugh out manically, tears rolling down your face that you desperately try to reach out and wipe. “you’re sick of me but i’m sick of you, too. i’m sick of feeling this way and i’m so fucking sick of thinking you still love me.”
“you don’t think i love you?” he asks, rising from his chair and making his way over to you.
his looming height should make you nervous, the way he’s looking down at you and threatening to trap you against the counter should make you nervous, but it doesn’t.
because coming to terms with this right here is the worst part. the conversation you’ve been avoiding for months and the obvious change in what you two have become.
“i don’t,” you say, finally meeting his gaze and seeing hurt and anger swirl behind them. they used to hold such a sweet softness that would sometimes make you feel better, even if just for a little bit.
“because even if you do, you’re still sick of me, right?”
one year ago:
“what if you get sick of me?”
the newest compromise had been his family coming here to meet you.
you and mingi had booked refundable tickets for a week in his hometown, a part of you wanting to desperately prove you could do something for him. something that would make him happy and maybe prove you love him a little more than you can convey.
but the second you got on the highway to the airport, you knew you weren’t gonna be able to.
memories played through your mind of you in the backseat of your parents car, laughing and talking with them as you promised to be careful and take a lot of pictures with them.
hearing them tell you they loved you and were so happy you were able to go after all.
and then you’d looked to the other side and see in your mind a car hitting the other. spinning out and smacking into the divider as an eruption of fire, car parts and the chaotic screeching of breaks echoed through the air.
mingi had to pull over to calm you down, bring you back to the real world in the form of hugging you close to his body and his hand running through your hair.
“i’m- i’m sorry, mingi, i’m sorry, i-”
“sh, you don’t have to apologize, baby, there’s nothing to apologize for,” he hums against your head, pulling you over the console to rock you gently in his lap.
he was warm and broad and soft spoken and everything about him made you feel safe. you couldn’t grasp at the time how or why he was so understanding and sweet but you didn’t even wanna question it.
because he was the one thing in your life that made you feel okay. that you had him and he had you and there was nothing that could be that bad if you had each other still.
he didn’t let go of your hand once as pulled onto the highway, got off the exit and made his way back home.
he guided you back into the apartment and told you to go lay down and that he’d be there in a second.
he cancelled the flight and called his mom, telling her you guys got rained out and that, if it was okay, he’d pay for them to fly out here next week.
the bed dips a few moments later, broad strong arms wrapping around your waist before you’re pulled into his chest.
it was after a few silent minutes stretched between you two, the calming rise and fall of his chest against your back, your small voice pierced the air.
“i’m sorry, mingi.”
he could tell you were gonna cry before you even started, turning you in his arms as he pulled you closer to him.
“baby, i already told you you don’t have to-”
“but i do,” you cut him off, lower lip trembling and stomach knotting guiltily.
“i... i don’t think this is normal, mingi. i should be able to move on with my life and travel somewhere. i wanted to go so badly and meet your mom but i-” your voice breaks as tears fill your eyes and you try to catch the breath threatening to suffocate you.
“i’m scared i’m gonna be like this forever,” you say quietly, looking up and meeting his soft, sweet gaze. “i’m scared i’m gonna be like this forever and you’re gonna become tired of it.”
“baby... that’s never gonna happen,” he assures you, voice gentle but firm as he runs his fingers through your hair.
“and you’re not gonna be like this forever. we can get you help. and i can help you,” he says, his eyes looking into yours with such a raw honesty and love. “i... don’t really know how but i’ll do whatever it takes.”
“what if it’s not enough?” you ask, because at the time it’s like you knew just how bad this was gonna get. that even with as low as you felt then, it wasn’t even rock bottom.
“what if you get sick of me?”
“i won’t,” he reassures, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your head before settling you onto his chest carefully. “that’ll never happen because i love you, y/n. and i always will.”
present day:
in a turn of events, you were the one who left after that.
came right to the place you first met, except now the lake isn’t frozen over and the late-afternoon sun had just set.
his words were too harsh and reminded you too much of his broken promises.
you felt too weak and pathetic and completely hopeless, the tense silence so horribly loud between you two you left without a word; and he hadn’t said anything either.
and now, as you sit at the spot you’ve always come to and found solace in, you can feel why he was always so hurt when you didn’t ask him to stay. because even though you were fighting and even though you both hurt each other, you wanted him to ask you to stay.
to please not go because that would’ve been the last possible way for you both to see there was something still there - even though it’s plain to see there isn’t.
too many fights and too many words have been said. too many lapses of silence and too many unspoken thoughts that now when uttered are just hurting both of you.
you’re both too hurt and you both have too many things to sort through that you can’t do together.
one second you were staring down at the lake, your own broken reflection staring back as your feet hung in the water, and the next you couldn’t see. tears flooded your vision and sobs wracked through your body, loud, ugly, horrific sobs that you’ve been holding back for far too long.
you cry because you know it’s over with him, you know it’s been over for a while, but now it all feels real.
you cry because you know you need some help to get past all of the guilt you feel, how if you don’t get help, you’re never gonna leave this town and see what else is out there.
you cry because you don’t even know where to start and know, even though it hurts, you have to do it alone.
you’re so lost in your thoughts and the way your cries echo through the yard that you don’t hear footsteps approach you.
you don’t even know anyone’s behind you until someone bends down and pulls you into their broad, warm chest. a chest you know far too well and a body that hasn’t held you like this in what feels like forever.
he knew you’d be here and he couldn’t stop his legs from jumping in the car and coming to see you after you left. half because he knew this had to happen and half because he was far too scared for you to be out here like this.
he knew what conversation was gonna follow but he knew had to hold you one last time. he missed holding you and he missed wiping your tears away.
“i don’t know what happened to us, mingi,” you whimper into his chest, the tears that have been building behind his eyes finally coming to the surface.
he doesn’t know what happened either. he doesn’t know when or where you guys went wrong or when you stopped talking to each other. he doesn’t know when he stopped loving you in such a way that was all consuming, where he knew he’d do anything and everything for you.
“i don’t... i don’t think this is working. i don’t know what to do but i know i can’t do this anymore.”
“i don’t know what happened either, baby,” he mumbles against your head, his words wobbly and wet as he tightens his hold on you. it feels as if every part of is heart is breaking, for the way he’s neglected you and the way your crying against him.
“i’m sorry i can’t help you. i wanted to so fucking badly but now... i just, i can’t, baby.”
you cry harder as you shake your head against him, feeling him plop down and pull you into his arms tighter.
it feels every bit as heartbreaking and upsetting as you both knew it’d be. it’s probably why you guys put it off for so long. because even though you feel the love you used to feel, you both know nothing will change.
he’ll resent you and you’ll resent him right back.
he’ll say he stayed for you and tried to help you and you’ll say you never asked him to do any of it.
you both sit there and cry and hold each other until the sky falls dark and air turns crisp, the moon reflecting off the lake in a way that hasn’t changed in two years.
but everything’s changed between you both and it’s too heartbreakingly obvious.
“i’ll miss you,” you mumbled to him.
because you know he’s gonna go on and do all the great things he’s wanted to. move out of this town and pursue whatever dreams he put off for you, the girl he once loved more than anything.
“i love you,” he confesses quietly against your head. “i really really did love you.”
because he knows he still does, he knows he always will, but it’s not something either of you can bear to hear right now.
you both have said what the other needed to hear and when you guys part tonight, maybe you’ll finally start feeling better. fix yourselves and the damage you’ve caused each other and maybe reunite when the universe deems it right.
two and a half years later:
it had always been your dream to see the northern lights.
something about them had always fascinated you, how they almost didn’t see real or were just a figment of fake editing that would only ever be seen in photos.
but you had an overwhelming need to see them before your very eyes. see the sight before you and marvel in just how truly fascinating and beautiful it was.
so that’s exactly what you did.
you wrote down a list of all the places you wanted to see: the egyptian pyramids, the great wall of china, the taj mahal, the eiffel tower, all of the sights that you knew in order to see, you’d have to leave the perfect little town you loved so much.
it took a lot of attempts, a lot of tears and anxiety and frantic calls to your therapist, but finally, you were able to do it.
it was the third to last place on your 6-month journey around the world, jet lag getting to you immensely but an extremely fulfilling pride and excitement within you.
you were able to do it. see the sights and meet hundreds of different people and experience all the things you convinced yourself you didn’t need or want.
and you didn’t have a single regret until this very moment.
because the rookie mistake you made within this amazing, journey of self-discovery around the world was not investing in a parka.
the biting temperatures of alaska were surely getting to you right now, your glove covered hands over your ears as you trekked through the snow with other groups of (properly dressed) tourists during the aurora season.
you found yourself in a snowy, freezing field, tall evergreen trees above your heads as you waited patiently for the sky to change perfectly, a buzzing excitement and low chatter from the people around you.
footsteps crunching on snow filled your ears from every direction, your eyes on the trees and large sky above you. a harsh gust of wind whipped past you and you let out a tiny squeal, your hands shooting up to your red, wind-burnt face.
you could hear a quiet, low chuckle beside you, something about the strangely familiar sound sending a whoosh of butterflies through your stomach. you didn’t understand them at that moment, ignoring your bodies odd reaction and keeping your eyes focused on the sky.
it took hearing his voice, the same one you’d fallen in love with in your own backyard, for your eyes widen and quickly look over the snowy vast of land surrounding you.
mingi stepped in front of you, eyes full of amusement and pride and even disbelief, looking over your face with the same type of a fascination he had when he first met you.
“aren’t you cold?”
inspired by: line without a hook by ricky montgomery, ty tiktok
tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @chrryhwa @baekhvuns @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo @nlost21 @toffee-hwa @hyunjeansuniverse @cherryeonii
#so aha.... not the dystopian au#but i was inspired by a song in the car and this happened <3#mingi#mingi angst#mingi fluff#ateez#ateez angst#ateez fluff#mingi scenarios#mingi imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines
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So, about Bi Caleb
Warning: very long post, discussing bi representation and biphobia.
*Sorry for spelling errors, English ain’t my firts language.
I can’t believe I have to tell you guys, but anyways: Caleb is bi whether he ends with a male character, a female character on a non binary character. That’s what bi people do, you know? they experience atraction for all genders. Saying that a bi character that ends with someone of the opposite gender is straight and queerbaiting is incredibly biphobic.
Yes, Vax was bisexual. Yes, he ended up with Kiki. Get fucking over it.
Now, I can understand why LGBT+ fans may feel disappointed when they tease a “gay couple” but the “straigth” couple ends up being endgame. Notice the quotation marks because there’s not such thing as a straight or gay couple for a bi person. They are bisexual in both situations, but I can see where the problem comes from. I’ve been queerbaited to hell and back by a lot of shows and it really hurts. It feels like they are laughting at you for caring. But I want those fans (whose feelings are totally valid, don’t get me wrong) to consider a few things when it comes to Critical Role, the first one being: it’s a D&D game.
Let me explain, because I know a lot of CR fans haven’t experienced what D&D is like in real life (and that’s absolutely valid, you don’t need to play D&D to enjoy CR). This is an improvisation game, not an scripted TV show. In a Tv show you can plan ahead of time what ship is going to be endgame, what themes are gonna come up for each character and it’s easier to deeply explore sexuality and gender as different planned arcs. In D&D you character’s sexuality may or may not come up depending on how you play it. Take for instance how other CR character’s have stated their sexuality:
Beau: overtly. Very *In your face* kind of lesbian. Marisha said “fuck it, I really just want to romance girls and be bad ass”
Yasha: openly, but not as in your face. Ashley Jhonson wanted to drink from that WLW cup while also being a shy disaster. Seafood market is her favored terrain.
Caduceus: Our Ace king has never hidden his sexuality, and yet he didn’t mention anything about it until chapter 114. He didn’t had the need to either hide it or state it. He was simply vibing.
I think Liam is going that route with Caleb. He’s flustered by Essek and Edwulf (Come on you guys, he always asks Matthew if he’s still hot). He also had/has a thing for Astrid and a think he might have feels for our favorite Tiefling gal. I know we are all too used to characters being teased as gay/bi only to have execs pull a “haha jk they be straight”. But this is not Sherlock or Supernatural. This is a show that not only has queer rep, but also supports queer organizations and creators. Hell, I’m sure some of the cast members are LGBT (but I’m not here to speculate on real people’s sexuality). If Caleb shows attraction to men he is not just queerbaiting, doing it for fanservicing or tricking the fans in any way shape or form: he’s just portraying a bi character. The thing is, since this is not a TV show, he is not doing it por woke points or to send a message. He’s doing it because he wants to play a bi wizard with depression.
So maybe there will be a point in which he can explores his sexuality more deeply, but remember he is playing a game. And his character is one that has a lot of trouble opening up to his feelings. Caleb is not someone that makes sexual jokes or flirty remarks. He is shy, awkward and has developed a really fucked up sense of love that he is now slowly fixing. Hell, in the same Talks episode Liam explained that Caleb was trained on Honey-pot tactics. Which, for those of you who can’t stand Bond films, means seducing your enemy/target to get information, manipulate them or assassinate them. WHICH IS A REALLY FUCKED UP THING! Let’s remember how he was the one to push Fjord to sleep with Advantica so they could spy on her. That boy has Issues when it comes to relationships. So if we don’t see him being as overtly gay as Beau, Molly or Yasha, well maybe it’s because that’s the way Caleb is. Bi people don’t owe you flamboyance, or dating both guys and gals for your approval. I wouldn’t make a post if it was only that, because I do feel the people who are aching for good bi rep and would love some more explicit confirmation. But Vax exists, so I know we can’t have good things down here.
VAX EXPLICITELY SHOWED ATTRACTION TO GILMORE. AS EXPLICIT AS IT GETS. HE FUCKING KISSED HIM. THEY WERE PRACTICALLY DATING. AND YET SOME OF YOU FUCKERS CALL HIM QUEERBAITING. AND I SAY: NOT ON MY WATCH! NOT ON MY FUCKING WATCH!!
How come a character can have canonically kissed another character in a romantic/sensual context and still be called straight? I know fucking Sherlock traumaticed y’all into having trust issues but believe me when I tell you: I’ts not that deep. This is not a “Haha I love u but in a no homo way bro”. It’s a “full homo darling, but also we’re gonna break up because I like someone else”. This is the opposite of queerbaiting. Instead of keeping a charade he was honest with Gilmore because he valued his feelings and realized that he couldn’t reciprocate them at that moment. And if you try to tell me that Vaxleth was forced and didn’t have a reason to exist except queerbaiting, let me tell you: you are wrong.
Vax saw Gilmore once or twice monthly while he spent a heck ton of time with Kiki. Sure, they didn’t had the kind of camera chemistry Gilmore and Vax had because Keyleth is not charismatic. She’s really awkward, and her relationship with Vax was more on the adorable and dorky side of things. I bring this up because I’m predicting something similar may happen to Shadowgast.
Trust me, I ship the hot wizards as much as any other critter (even though I’m a multishipper). But they haven’t talked to Essek in centuries. I think it may have been almost a month in rol and quite a few outside. And you have to take into account out-rol time to because they are humans (except Tal) playing a game and they forget about stuff (except Marisha and Matt). So Shadowgast may not happen because sure, they had really good chemistry for a month a month ago. People have crushes that die down over time All The Time. So maybe don’t be so butthurt about your ship not being canon that you accuse an ally of homophobia.
The cast of CR put forward such an amazing representation for the LGBT+ community and it really hurts me that you gets stuck on the one thing that isn’t canon. Matt has created a world in which coming out is not necessary because no one assumes your sexuality. A world in which people respect pronouns and orientations (except Tary’s father, who is a villain). A world in which Cad or Caleb don’t need to explicitly say “I’m ace/bi” unless it comes up in conversation. A world in which his friends can be whatever they want to be without pressure or reprecusions. A world in which they get to explore different gender identities and sexual orientations with full freedom. Let’s not interfere with that (unless there’s missrepresentation), and let them play their game. If you really need mlm or wlw canon couples or more outwardly LGBT+ people you have plenty examples among NPCs and other cast members (Allura and kima, Yasha, Beau, Dairon, Keg, Reani, Tary, Molly and Vax among others).
There’s way worst shows taking LGBT+ cred for barely doing nothing. Fucking Supernatural is the most recent example! Critical Role works towards showing an honest portrayal of LGBT+ folk and accepts valid criticism from their fans on the subject (when they changed J’Mon Sa Ord pronouns from it to they/them). They don’t owe you making your ship canon or portraying their characters the way you want them to (again, unless when it’s constructive criticism). Stop being so Fucking entitled and enjoy the show for what it is
,Respectfully~
*Edit: I´m tagging Caleb’s ships into the post because most hate comes from shipping wars. Most Shadowgast fans are respectful of the cast’s decisions, even if it disappoints them. But since I’ve already seen people accusing Liam of biphobia in that tag and since I’ve already seen this shit with Vaxmore I’m tagging the ship. If you want to read my long ass post do it, if not, ignore it. I’m not forcing you to read it. I’ve also tagged it with biphobia so people can avoid it if it’s triggering. I’m sorry if it makes you mad that your ship is not canon, but that’s not an excuse to be toxic to the cast. Those of you getting mad are the ones that need to read this the most. Like I’ve said in the post: you’re allowed to be disappointed, you are allowed to want more, but you can’t force the cast to give you exactly what you want. And most certainly, you can’t accuse them of some very serious stuff like biphobia and queerbaiting when it’s not the case..
#Critical Role#Critical Role Rant#Bi Caleb#Shadowgast#Shadowulf#I swear to good#widofjord#I swear to Melora#Widowjest#Talks Machina#lgbt discourse#Rant#Jesus this is long#Vax#vax'ildan#Vaxmore#I'm so fucking done with this fandom sometimes#Vaxleth#How to be biphobic while asking for bi representation#liam o'brien#trigger warning biphobia#tw biphobia#Critical role discourse#queerbaiting
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The Most Dramatic Season Ever - Week 4
Summary: It’s your time now! You are ABC’s new Bachelorette and this is your journey! All these men (including our fav BoRhap boys and then some) are competing for your heart! Will you find love? Will you get engaged at the end? Or will you end up heartbroken? Find out, on the most dramatic season ever!
Word Count: 9.5k
Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @moon-stars-soul, @danadeacon, @deacyblues, @thesundrop, @cupidben, @lostlittlenerd, @delilahmay39, @timmvrphy, @queenmylovely, @loveandbeloved29, @free-pool-trash, @fairestkillerqueenofall, @local-troubled-writer, @babyalienfairy, @littlecarowrites, @allthethingsicant, @im-an-adult-ish, @mirkwoodshewolf, @squishy-gay-astronaut, @sherlollydramoine, @butlegendsneverdie, @dogmom2014 If you’d like to be added, let me know!
A/N: Alright, we are halfway through the season! The drama continues this week on The Bachelorette!
Warning(s): None
Night 1 Week 1 Week 2 Week 3
Week 4 here we go!!!
London was beautiful. You had never been before, so you were eager to explore somewhere new. Plus, you knew several of the guys would be familiar with it. This was an opportunity to see their world. And that was exactly what you planned to do.
The men settled into their hotel suite. It was a large, airy place, with a wide balcony overlooking the city. Then men all gathered on the balcony to take in the view.
“I’ve never seen Big Ben before,” said Mike. “Except in pictures.”
“What are you talking about?” Joe teased. “He’s right here.”
He pointed to Ben, who laughed. “That’s a much bigger Ben than I am.”
Joe then wrapped his arms around Ben in a bear hug. “Well, we’ve got the best Ben.”
“That, we do,” agreed Gwilym, who reached out and pinched Ben’s cheek.
Ben laughed more and flushed. Then all the guys gathered in a group hug.
Of course, Luke was not with them. He was inside, journaling by himself. After everything that happened, he avoided the other men, and they avoided him right back. So, he missed out on the bond that had formed between the rest of them. Despite all competing for the same woman, they had become solid friends.
When there was a knock on the door for the date card, Mike went to go get it. Everyone watched the hallway anxiously. Then, they all heard him release a delighted cry. They exchanged confused looks. Mike returned without a date card, but with something much better. You.
They all cheered when they saw you and engulfed you in a warm group hug. Then they all settled back onto the couches so you could catch your breath.
“Welcome to London, guys,” you said, scanning their faces. “I’m really, really happy with the group that’s still here, and I hope that we can just continue this crazy journey all together.”
“How are you enjoying it?” Taron asked.
“Well, I haven’t gotten to see much, but so far, I love London,” you said. “In fact, I came here today for someone to explore it with me.”
They all watched you, hoping you would say their own names.
“Gwilym,” you said, finding his eyes. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”
“I’d be honored,” he replied, getting to his feet.
You smiled and followed suit, holding out your hand to him. You could see the disappointment on some of the other men’s faces, but you were relieved that they also seemed genuinely happy for Gwilym. Maybe you really could leave all the drama behind.
You and Gwilym waved goodbye and headed out the door. You went out on the streets of London hand in hand.
“I’m gonna let you take the lead here,” you told him. “You live here, right?”
“I do,” he chuckled. “I’m not originally from London, but I live here now.”
“Well, show me around, stud!” you urged.
He laughed again and you were off. Gwilym walked you around almost everywhere that was nearby. He was knowledgeable about the history of everything too. That was one of the most attractive things about Gwilym to you. He was so well-read and intelligent. But it never came off as condescending. He was still incredibly kind and humble as well.
You stopped inside a pub to eat and grab a drink after all the walking. You ordered fish and chips because that’s what you’d always heard in the movies. Gwilym laughed beside you and kissed you on the cheek.
You each had a beer as you waited for the food.
“So,” you said as you sipped. “How are you since we last talked?”
“Very well,” he answered. “I’m excited to be getting to know you better and see where we go from here.”
“I’m excited too,” you said. “Every time I think about our connection, I always feel hopeful.”
“Hopeful?” he questioned.
“Yeah,” you said. “Since you told me your story, I feel like you’re the most hopeful person in the world. What you went through was...unbelievably sad. And yet, you’re still here, looking for love, pursuing it wholeheartedly. It makes me hopeful too.”
He smiled sadly at the glass in front of him.
“I’m flattered by your admiration,” he said. “Losing her - especially the way I did - was the most difficult thing I’ve ever been through. We actually moved to London together from our little town, so coming here with you really is like a fresh start. It’s making me feel like I’m re-discovering it.”
“Is that a good feeling or a bad one?” you asked.
“It’s bittersweet,” he said. “I feel like sometimes, I still miss her so much, and it still hurts like an open wound. And other times I feel like I’m fine.”
“That’s sort of how grief works,” you told him. “Moving on from something like that isn’t a linear projection until you’re over it. You have setbacks. You’re still allowed to be sad and confused sometimes.”
“You’re right,” he agreed. “I guess what I’m trying to say is...despite all of what happened and all the hurt, you have made me hopeful. What I’m feeling for you is something so good that I fully believe that love can happen for me again.”
A smile spread slowly across your face as he spoke. You leaned over and kissed him sweetly, conveying your absolute adoration of that sentiment. Gwilym was so deserving of love, and you wanted to show him that.
Your food came, and you split the plate between you. It tasted amazing, and as you ate the fries, an idea came to you.
“How good is your eye-mouth coordination?” you asked.
He blinked. “My what?”
You giggled. “Like, if I toss you some fries, can you catch them in your mouth?”
“Depends on how well you throw them,” he retorted. “The real question should be how good is your aim?”
“Oh?” you returned, raising a challenging eyebrow.
“Yes,” he said. “And since we are in the UK, they’re chips. Not fries.”
You snatched one off the plate and tossed it at him, hitting him square in the nose.
“Looks like my aim is pretty good there, chief,” you teased.
You threw another, and this time he caught it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.
“Okay, we make a pretty good team,” he said through a laugh.
You threw a few more to him, and he caught most. However, when he threw them to you, your catching abilities were abysmal. You blamed it on Gwilym’s arm, and he let you.
It felt really good to sit and laugh with him. You felt like many of your conversations with Gwil were so serious. So to be lighthearted and goof around with him showed you another side of him. A side you were glad existed.
After lunch, you continued to walk around a bit. Then Gwilym stopped at an intersection, tugging your hand to stop you from crossing the street. You shot him a quizzical look.
“Gwil?”
“If we turn right here,” he said. “We can get to my flat in five minutes. I’m not presuming anything by asking this, but would you like to come over and see it?”
You looked down so he wouldn’t see the deep blush creeping up in your cheeks. On any other date, this would have implied sex, but you two were on camera, being followed by a whole crew. You weren’t embarrassed by that. You were embarrassed that you were disappointed they were there. You were really attracted to Gwilym, and would not have turned down that invitation outside of this.
Actually, you weren’t going to turn it down either way.
“Yeah, let’s go,” you said, looking back up at him.
“Great,” he replied with a grin.
God, he was handsome.
Gwilym’s place was humble and cozy. He opened the door and allowed you inside, and you felt like he had just done the same with his heart. Everything about this place screamed “Gwilym Lee.” You walked through the front and into the sitting room, which had aged leather furniture and warm lamplight. The kitchen was smaller than what you were used to in the US, with a vintage look. It was also strictly practical.
Gwilym also had books everywhere. There was a half shelf in the sitting room beside the fireplace. A corner of the kitchen counter was dedicated to recipe books. They were also randomly on whatever surfaces he had set them down on while reading. You pictured him walking around, nose to the pages, glasses on, focused.
He had few decorations, but there were plenty of pictures. Some of his family and friends. But the majority appeared to be of him with his students. Gwilym was a literature professor, and he was clearly dedicated to his work.
“Would you like to see upstairs?” he offered. “There’s something really special up there I’d like to show you.”
“Please,” you said.
You followed him up the wooden staircase to the second floor. There were only a few rooms up here. Gwilym’s bedroom, a guest bedroom, a hallway bathroom, and one more door at the end of the hall. That was where he led you.
He opened the door, and you gasped at the side. Across each wall, floor to ceiling - bookshelves. Fully stocked, too. There were thick, leather bound reference books. Paperback novels. Limited edition classics. Everything you could imagine for a personal collection.
“This is my library,” he said, looking between the shelves and your face.
You wondered if you looked stupid with your mouth hanging open. Gwilym’s eyes shone as he gazed at you. How beautiful you were to him in this moment was beyond words.
“Gwil, this is incredible!” you cried. “Your very own library!”
He smiled. “Take a look around, see what you like!”
You went to the first shelf to your right and extracted a worn-looking book. The spine was damaged so you couldn’t read the title until you opened it.
“Anna Karenina,” you read.
“Ah, that’s quite a special one,” he said. “Very close to my heart. It’s my grandmother’s copy. If you look at the publication date, you’ll see why it’s so special.”
Your eyes scanned the page until you found it.
“1890?!” you gasped.
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “She inherited it from her great-aunt. Because I collect so many books, she left it to me.”
“That’s amazing,” you said.
“Have you ever read it?” he asked.
“I have,” you said. “It’s a tragic story, but one of my favorite classics. This is a real treasure.”
“It is,” he agreed as you returned it to the shelf.
“You’re free to keep looking, if you like,” he offered.
You did. You perused the shelves and spotted another favorite.
“Oh, Summer of Katya!” you said. “I loved this book!”
“Another tragedy,” he said.
“Yeah, but what a wild ride,” you replied. “That plot twist had me shook for days.”
“Me as well,” he said. “A great story.”
“So, how many of these books have you actually read?” you wondered as you set Summer of Katya back.
“All of them.”
Your mouth fell open again.
“All of them?”
“All of them,” he laughed.
“That would take me the rest of my life!” you cried looking around again.
Gwilym watched you as you walked along the shelves, and you stopped to talk about a few more things. A small smile claimed his lips. You stopped talking and met his gaze.
“What?” you wondered. “What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing,” he said with a shrug. “It’s just...you sort of seem to belong here in my home.”
You beamed. “I like feeling like I belong to the things you love, Gwilym.”
He held out his hand, which you took. With it, he pulled you into his arms and kissed the top of your head. You sort of felt like you belonged there too. Maybe you could. And maybe spend much of your life in this room, picking out what to read next before crawling into bed beside your husband. That would be a rather heavenly way to live.
For the evening portion of your date, you and Gwil met at a bar right on the River Thames. Like usual, it was reserved for just the two of you to enjoy your date. You sat down together and you smiled at him before making a small toast.
After you each had a bit of your drinks, you took his hand.
“I really had a great time with you today,” you said. “I feel like, so balanced with you. We can be serious, we can laugh together, and we can have intellectual discussions too. I feel like I can be every part of myself around you.”
“I’m relieved,” he told you. “And I feel the same. I haven’t struggled in opening up to you, and that's really nice.”
“Can I admit something to you?” you asked.
“In the spirit of such honesty, I’d be surprised if you didn’t,” he teased.
You chuckled and glanced down at your lap before looking back at him.
“When you first told me you’re a professor, I was really intimidated by you,” you said.
“Intimidated by me?” he questioned.
“I was nervous that you were going to think that I’m dumb,” you said.
He pursed his mouth in confusion. “W...why would I think that?”
“Because I feel like…” you trailed off. “I dunno, I’m not the most well-read person in the world, and I enjoy things that in the academic world might seem frivolous or silly. I try to keep up with current events, but I get distracted, and I think that all of that put together I -”
“Hold on,” he cut across you. “Y/N, none of that amounts to intelligence. You don’t have to read every book in my library or know every detail of Brexit to convince me that you’re smart. You are smart. A lot smarter than me in many ways.”
“Thank you,” you said, blushing.
“Can I ask you something?” he wondered.
“Of course.”
“Who told you that you’re dumb?”
You blinked, unsure how to answer him.
“Hardly anybody thinks they’re dumb on their own,” he went on. “Which leads me to believe that somebody, somewhere convinced you of it.”
You blinked again, this time to get rid of the tears welling up in your eyes.
“I...I, uh, had an ex who said that to me a lot,” you answered at last. “Anytime I disagreed with him or tried to address something he’d done to upset me, he told me I was being stupid, or that I didn’t understand anything. So, I kind of just became convinced that I wasn’t very smart.”
“Let me tell you what I see,” he said. “In all my conversations with you, I’ve found you to be not only extremely clever, but also funny, kind, and giving. In fact, my admiration has grown so much that I can finally say…” he trailed off.
You had been forming a smile as he spoke, but when he hesitated, it faltered.
“Say what?” you pressed.
“Y/N, I’m falling in love with you,” he said. “It seems unbelievable that it should happen so fast. But you are exactly the kind of girl I’d like to be with for the rest of my life.”
You smiled so wide, you thought your face might crack. Then you leaned over and took his face in your hands to kiss him.
“Gwilym, I’m so happy to hear you say that,” you told him when you parted. “I feel like we’re really progressing. And I don’t want to stop.” You reached across the table and picked up the rose that was waiting there. “So, Gwilym. Will you accept this rose?”
“You know I will,” he replied, kissing you again.
Gwilym was very much a gentleman when he kissed you. It was slightly reserved, but with enough passion for you to feel how much he wanted to do more. Each move was thoughtful and considerate, just like him.
Gwilym: I really am falling for Y/N. I hate that she’s been with such terrible men in the past. She deserves so much more. I’d like to give her that.
You pinned the rose to his jacket and then you grinned at each other.
“You ready to go?” you asked.
“Go where?” he wondered.
“One of the most iconic places in London,” you said.
You offered your hand. He took it and followed you out. You walked together down the street until you reached it. The London Eye.
“Oh, God,” he sighed. “We’re really doing this?”
“Yes!” you insisted.
You had a whole pod reserved for the two of you. You were excited as you went up, but the higher you got, you also grew nervous. You clutched Gwilym’s hand.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re frightened,” he teased. “You went bungee jumping in the mountains!”
“I was scared of that too!” you returned.
“Come here, cariad,” he said gently, pulling you into his arms once again.
You leaned on him and looked out over the city. The sight was breathtaking. All the lights from the buildings looked like stars. The way they reflected off the river was stunning. You felt like you were looking down from outer space or something.
“This view is beautiful,” you said.
“I like mine better,” he replied.
You faced him and saw that his his eyes were fixed on you instead of London.
“Smooth,” you giggled.
“Kiss me,” he breathed.
You did. This kiss was different. It was deeper, more intentional, more open than your kisses before. Gwilym was fully giving himself to you and this process. To accent your joy perfectly, a fireworks show began over the river. You hardly noticed their colors or the sounds. Everything was just you and Gwilym.
Back at the house, the men were waiting for a date card. A few guys were bemoaning not being with you right now, but were holding out hope for a one on one. When there was a knock at the door, Richard went to fetch it. He returned with a card.
“It’s a group date,” he said. “Joe, Rami, Allen, Taron, Richard, Mike, and Kenny. Are you ready to meet Her Majesty? Ayyyy-yo! Y/N.”
“Ay-yo?” questioned Allen.
“What, like Freddie Mercury?” suggested Rami.
“What would Freddie Mercury have to do with a date, though?” Taron wondered.
“We’ll figure that out tomorrow,” said Mike. “With all of us on this date, that means…”
“Me and Luke are left,” Ben said with a heavy sigh. “It’s gonna be a two on one.”
A two on one meant a lot of risk because at least one of the people on it would be sent home on the date. It made Ben nervous because even though Luke’s behavior was atrocious, you kept him around, so there had to be a real connection there. Also, he was still angry at Luke for starting that stupid drama in the first place.
“I’m not worried,” Luke said. “Y/N and I have overcome a lot and I think that makes for a strong foundation.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Whatever, man. Just don’t tell her any more sh*t you’ve made up about me.”
“I didn’t make anything up,” Luke returned. “I heard what I heard.”
“You didn’t hear anything because I. Never. Said. It.” Ben shot back.
“Neither did I,” Joe added. “But let’s leave this in the past, okay? All any of us can do is focus on our own relationships with her.”
Luke and Ben glowered at each other a moment longer before looking away.
The next day, everyone but Gwilym, Ben, and Luke, got on a bus and headed out from the hotel. Mike, Kenny, and Joe had never been to London before, so they were in awe of the city as they made their way to the unknown destination.
Taron: I feel terrible for Ben and what he’s going to face tomorrow, but I’m also really glad Luke isn’t here to ruin the group date again. Those of us here are actually decent blokes, so I think it’ll be a fun day.
“Is that Wembley Stadium?” Joe wondered, pointing in the direction the bus was heading.
“It is,” said Richard.
The group exchanged apprehensive looks as they were dropped off at the legendary arena and escorted into it.
Inside, on the field, was a stage setup. You stood center stage, smiling at the men. You were wearing all white - a white v-neck tank top, and white pants with a red and yellow racing stripe up the sides, belted at the waist. You also donned a yellow, military style leather jacket.
“Hello, gentlemen!” you greeted as they climbed up the stairs to join you. “Welcome to Wembley Stadium! How many of y’all have been here before?”
Taron, Richard, Allen, and Rami raised their hands. Joe, Mike, and Kenny did not. They were also the ones still looking around, while the others stayed focused on you.
“Well, surely you all know about the legendary concert that took place here in 1985, Live Aid,” you said, and they nodded. “And I’m sure you know which act stole the show.”
“Queen,” said Rami.
“Yep!” you confirmed. “So we’re gonna have some fun today. You’re all going to be dressed like Freddie Mercury and give me your best Live Aid performance.”
Their eyes widened as they looked at you, and you bit back a laugh.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be lip-syncing,” you assured them. “There also won’t be an audience. The person who does the best job gets to talk to me first at the cocktail party tonight.”
“Will you be the judge?” Taron asked.
“Actually, I won’t, I’m just enjoying the show,” you said. “The judges are some very special people who are quite familiar with Freddie.”
“Oh my God…” Rami said under his breath.
You smirked. “Guys, please welcome Queen and Adam Lambert!”
The guys clapped as Brian May, Roger Taylor, and Adam Lambert emerged onto the stage. They first hugged you and then turned to face the men.
Richard: I can’t believe this...it’s f***ing Queen! We’re on a date with Queen! I mean - we’re on a date with Y/N - but Queen is there! I’m blown away right now!
“Hullo, guys,” said Brian with a gentle wave. “We just wanted to let you all know - don’t be nervous. This is meant to be something fun to show Y/N you can come out of your shell a bit.”
“Yes, have fun,” Roger agreed. “Don’t be afraid to make an arse out of yourself. Freddie certainly wasn’t.”
Everyone chuckled.
“So, you guys have fifteen minutes to change and decide on one song from the Live Aid set you want to do,” Adam explained. “You can watch the clip of your choice as much as you want in that fifteen minutes.”
“The costumes are backstage,” you said. “You guys ready?”
They nodded at you.
“Okay, fifteen minutes starts now!”
While the guys got changed and prepared, you and the band went around and checked up on them. You went over to Mike first, who was watching the video of Live Aid and scrubbing through it quickly.
“How’s it going?” you asked.
“Okay,” he replied. “I don’t really know any Queen songs, so I’m listening for something that sounds familiar.”
“You know We Will Rock You?” you wondered.
“I know those words of it,” he laughed.
You giggled. “Well, I’d go for that one, then. It’s second to last.”
“Thank you,” he sighed.
You looked over and saw Rami chatting with Brian. Richard was talking to Roger, and Allen and Kenny were talking to Adam. Everyone was in the iconic white tank top and light wash jeans. They also had the studded armband and mustache. You went over to Taron next.
“How’re you feeling?” you asked.
“I know what song I’ll do,” he told you. “Bohemian Rhapsody. That way I can sit behind a piano for most of it.”
“Nice,” you chuckled. “You play, right?”
“I do,” he said. “Although, as you learned on our Disney date, I’m much more of an Elton John man than Queen. Don’t get me wrong, I adore them, but Elton is more my style.”
“I’d love to hear you play some Elton for me sometime,” you said. “But honestly, now is the time to get out of your comfort zone and show me your edge, Taron.”
“I’ll do anything for you, love,” he replied with a grin.
Then you headed over to Rami.
“Hey, sweetie,” you said as he pulled you into a hug.
When you parted, you had to take a moment. Rami really looked like Freddie for a split second. With the mustache and the clothes...he had even styled his hair. He was getting really into this.
“Woah, you look great!” you said.
“Thanks,” he returned. “I’m really excited for this.”
“I know you’re an actor, so you’re not too worried,” you joked. “Which song did you pick?”
“Radio GaGa,” he told you.
“Good choice,” you praised.
You chatted with Rami for another moment before moving on to Richard.
“Just be grateful we picked Live Aid and not one of our shows from the seventies,” Roger was saying as you approached. “You’d all be in leotards.”
“I dunno, I think I could make it work,” Richard returned with a chuckle.
“I definitely think you could make it work,” you agreed. “How’s it going over here?”
“Pretty good,” Richard said. “I know what I’m going to do.”
“Awesome!” you said. “You a big Queen fan?”
“Massive Queen fan,” he told you. “This is kind of a dream for me.”
“I think you’ve found your man, Y/N,” Roger teased. “This one’s clearly got the best taste.”
You laughed.
The fifteen minutes went by more quickly than you anticipated, but most of the guys seemed ready. There were a few nerves you could feel, but they weren’t too bad. Kenny was up first.
Kenny did “We Are the Champions” and he was pretty good. He clearly knew the words, but he was also nervous and shy. You found that surprising since he was a pro wrestler and part of his act was to put on a bit of a show. You cut him some slack, though. This was out of his element.
Taron was second, and he was better. His performance did come out more like Elton than like Freddie, but he was really feeling the music. You could tell he had wanted to play and sing himself, so he was holding back a little bit.
Mike was third. He did “We Will Rock You” and had a lot of energy, but it was more his own than like Freddie. You didn’t mind, since you liked Mike’s style, but it didn’t bode well for him as far as the competition went.
Allen was fourth, and he did “Hammer to Fall.” So far, he came the closest to looking like Freddie up on stage. He was upbeat and had obviously studied the movements. The only problem was that it came off a little too rehearsed.
Richard went next. He had the same idea as Taron to do “Bohemian Rhapsody” so he wouldn’t have to move around so much. He was even more reserved than Taron. Evidently, he was not much of a performer at all, despite how much he loved the music.
Joe was sixth. He did “Crazy Little Thing Called Love.” It was similar in idea to Taron and Richard, because he got to use an instrument. Joe could actually play guitar, so he mimed it well. Like Mike, he was more Joe than Freddie. Joe wasn’t a shy person at all, so he was still entertaining.
Finally, it was Rami. From the first notes of “Radio GaGa,” you could tell there was something different about Rami’s performance. Every move, every step, every turn was intentional, but looked effortlessly Freddie. It took you off guard. Rami looked the most like Freddie, and with this performance, you were convinced he had a spiritual connection to the man. You looked over at Brian and Roger. Brian had tears in his eyes. Roger was closing his mouth just as you looked. They saw it too. Adam placed a comforting hand on each of their shoulders.
When Rami finished, the whole arena was deathly silent. All eyes were fixed on Rami, who stood breathless on stage, but looking proud. He also looked like...not Rami. That last note rang out, and for a moment, it was as if Freddie himself stood there.
Finally, Roger cleared his throat.
“Well done,” he choked out. “We’ll just need a...a moment to uh, discuss.”
The band walked out of earshot for a moment and you approached Rami.
“I think you shook them up,” you said. “You certainly shook me up.”
He shot you a worried glance.
“In a good way,” you assured him. “Believe me, you were incredible.”
The band returned and appeared to have recovered from their shock.
“Everybody did a fine job,” Brian began. “Just remember to not be so shy. Show Y/N that you can open up and be yourself.”
“This really brought me back,” Roger added. “But one person in particular really captured Freddie’s spirit today.”
“And that person is Rami,” Adam announced.
You let out a cheer and clapped for Rami, and the rest of the men joined you. You hugged him around the neck as you congratulated him.
“Thanks, Y/N,” he said bashfully.
“Congratulations, Rami,” Brian said. “Enjoy your time with Y/N first tonight, and remember to use it wisely.”
Everyone thanked the band for their part, and got autographs before they left. Then it was time for the evening portion of the date. It was still at Wembley, in a private box, which overlooked the field. The stage set up had been removed already, so it was returned to its sport ready look. It was still lit up in the darkness by the stadium lights.
You met the men in the box and gave a toast. Then, you took Rami by the hand and led him out. Also reserved for you was the next box over, so you could have private conversations. You and Rami went in there and sat down to chat.
“You were seriously amazing today,” you told him. “That was like, Oscar worthy.”
He chuckled. “I dunno about all that, but I definitely had fun. Freddie Mercury is pretty special to me.”
“Why’s that?” you wondered.
“Well, we sort have a lot in common,” he said. “We’re both kinda awkward brown boys from immigrant families, but with a lot of dreams.”
“I can see that,” you said. “You feel that strongly about acting?”
“I do,” he said. “I take it very seriously. I believe in myself, and I hope that someday I can be big enough to win an Oscar. I wanna be like Freddie, where kids who look like me can start believing that they can succeed too.”
You loved that idea and what it represented. The only thing for you was that actors were away a lot, and you wanted to raise a family. With a partner.
“How does that dream fall in with your desire to have a family?” you asked.
“Lots of actors have families,” he said. “I’m already settled in LA, where most of the jobs are, and that’s where I’d want to raise my family. And I’d work with my partner to make sure my schedule didn’t interfere with important things. I know it won’t be easy, but I am family oriented, and I know I can do both. But the last thing I wanna do is settle.”
“Settle?” you questioned.
“I mean, I don’t want to take some safe, nine-to-five job just because I want to get married and have a family,” he said. “I want to pursue my dreams so that my kids will have someone they can really be proud of. Someone who didn’t give up on his passion.”
You smiled. “I like that. You’re a very driven person, Rami, I hadn’t noticed that about you before.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re learning now,” he said. “I am driven and focused and there’s a lot I want out of life.”
You both paused to sip your drinks.
“What about you?” he said. “What are you passionate about?”
“I’m most passionate about family,” you said. “I didn’t really have those connections as a kid. My family isn’t very close. I want that unit, that strength that comes with being together.”
“That’s a beautiful sentiment,” he said. “Is there anything else?”
“Like what?” you wondered.
“Like hobbies,” he said. “Y/N, don’t you have interests besides that?”
“I read a lot,” you told him. “And I like fashion and beauty, but those are just normal girl things.”
“Are you kidding?” he returned. “There’s a lot there to go with. Do you ever design your own stuff?”
You blushed. “I...well, I do sort of have this dream of starting my own clothing label.”
“That’s awesome!” he said excitedly. “Tell me more!”
“Well, I’d want to use all recycled materials so we’re not being wasteful,” you said. “That way it’s like thrifting, but you’ll still get the latest styles. Everything would just be re-designed and…” you trailed off. “Sorry. It’s kind of a silly idea.”
“Not at all!” he insisted. “I think it’s a great idea. Environmentally friendly and everything. That’s amazing, Y/N. Don’t doubt yourself.”
“You certainly help me believe in it,” you replied, all embarrassment fading away at his enthusiasm.
“I want to help you believe in yourself,” he said. “It’s important to me.”
“It is?”
“Yes, Y/N,” he said. “I want to be there for you. I’m falling in love with you and I want to help you see yourself through my eyes.”
Your heart skipped a beat. You grinned.
“You’re falling in love with me?”
“More and more every day,” he assured you.
With that, he kissed you. Rami’s kisses were always deeply passionate and romantic. It made you feel like you two were on the cover of a romance novel or something. You felt like you were in your own romance novel because you were falling for Rami too. He was just so special.
Rami: I really am falling in love with Y/N. I can just see a wonderful future with her as my wife. She’s everything you could ever want.
After Rami, Joe wanted to see you. Your time with Joe went as well as it usually did. You laughed together a lot and discussed the date. He reassured you that he was falling for you. You were tempted to say it back, but hesitated. You felt strongly for Joe, but there was still more to explore there.
Allen pulled you after Joe. You were still holding back with Allen, and you felt that he was too. He had told you more of his story on your one on one, but since then, you hadn’t had a serious conversation. You didn’t feel uncomfortable around him or anything, but there was something more you wanted. Like he was only giving himself partially to this. You wanted him to give everything.
Richard came next. Similar to Allen, he held back from you. He had divulged even less information about himself. Less than any of the other men there. Richard was fun and easygoing, but you wanted him to dig deeper. He just wasn’t going there. You needed to find out why.
Taron followed after Richard. Taron was not afraid of giving his heart to you, and you could feel it ever since that one on one. Every time you spoke to him, the relationship moved forward, in the right direction. You always looked forward to your time with him, and today was no different.
There was a piano in the private box, and Taron made good on his promise to play for you. He began with “Your Song” by Elton John, one of your favorites. His voice was swoon-worthy, and you loved listening. Each time he sang, you pictured him in your house together, singing your kids to sleep or just serenading you before bed. He felt like home to you.
“Life really is wonderful with you in the world, Y/N,” he said as he finished. “It’s becoming pretty difficult to imagine my life without you in it.”
“That’s sweet,” you said. “I’d have a hard time without you, too.”
“Really, Y/N,” he said. “I’m falling in love with you. Hard.”
You met his gaze, heart racing with joy.
“I’m so happy you told me,” you whispered. “You’re amazing, Taron.”
He kissed you. Short and sweet because neither of you could stop smiling.
Mike and Kenny also made things difficult on you because they both told you they were falling in love as well. You felt like all of them deserved roses tonight, but you knew who you wanted the rose to go to. As you all gathered back in the original box, you picked it up off the table.
“Thank you all for an incredible day,” you said. “We got a bit of a rock concert and I got to see you all just have a good time. But I wanna give this rose to someone who really proved himself today. Who showed me something new and moved our relationship forward.”
You found Rami’s eyes.
“Rami, will you accept this rose?”
“I will,” he assured you, getting to his feet.
You pinned it to his jacket as he kissed your cheek. Then, you bid them all goodnight. You were still riding the high of the day when you remembered that the following day, you had your two on one with Ben and Luke.
The date card arrived for Ben and Luke while the rest of the men were at the cocktail party with you. Gwilym retrieved it and read it out loud.
“Ben and Luke,” he said. “I want us to grow. Love, Y/N.”
“Let’s just get this over with,” Ben groaned.
“What, eager to go home?” Luke taunted.
Ben rolled his eyes and went to his room for the night.
The next day, Ben and Luke each placed their luggage by the door. Whoever went home, the producers would come and take their luggage to the airport. The two men were driven by car to meet you in a lovely garden and park. Everything was blooming so it was the perfect time of year for a date like this. You just wished you weren’t dreading it so much. One of them was going home, but you felt like you needed time with both of them. Hopefully today would be enough.
“Hi, guys,” you greeted, trying to sound chipper as they hugged you one by one. “So today, we’re having a picnic in the park. It’s really beautiful here, so let’s have a good day, yeah?”
“O’course,” Ben agreed.
“Definitely,” Luke added.
“Okay, let’s go.”
You led them over the set up that was reserved for you. It was a small table with three chairs around it. You sat first - in between them - and then poured everyone a glass of champagne. The champagne was more for you, really. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife, and you needed to feel at ease. These two had such animosity between them.
“So, Luke, you wanna go talk?” you asked.
“Sure, yeah,” he agreed.
You walked around a hedge to another small table. You took a swig of your drink and then looked at him.
“So, I know you’re not over everything that happened in Asheville, and neither am I,” you said.
“No, I’m over it,” he protested. “Really, I’m not mad at you anymore. I wanna move on.”
“I wanna move on too,” you said. “But I feel like we have to talk about this because this is a disagreement on something fundamental, and I don’t think you understand that.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Like, you were angry at me for taking off my clothes in front of Joe,” you said. “Because of your beliefs, you felt like it was disrespectful. I don’t know any other way to tell you that I don’t share those beliefs and you can’t force them on me.”
“I don’t want to force them on you,” he said. “But I think that you should be more aware of our feelings in this and behave - y’know - properly.”
That familiar anger stirred in the pit of your stomach.
“Okay, Luke, I behaved just fine -”
“Really?” he scoffed. “Getting naked in front of a guy on your first date with him is fine behavior?”
You could have screamed.
“Oh my God,” you sighed. “Let’s get one thing straight, okay? I can do whatever the hell I want. This is my journey, it’s my body, and whatever I decide to do with it is up to me and not subject to your approval.”
“Y/N, I’m just trying to help you,” he said gently. “I prayed about it, and I feel like my purpose here is to save you.”
“To save me?” you questioned.
“You’re being led astray by these other men,” he said. “But together, we can -”
“Okay, Luke, stop,” you said. “We’re not getting into theological arguments today. Clearly, it doesn’t matter to you that I don’t want to hear it. The other thing we need to address is why you lied about Joe and Ben.”
“I didn’t lie,” he insisted. “I know what I heard.”
“But none of the other guys heard it,” you reminded him. “And if they said it out loud, they said it to someone with ears, so they must have heard it. Just be honest and tell me why you did it.”
“I know I heard that conversation, Y/N,” he said firmly. “I’m not a liar.”
“So literally every other guy in that house is?” you challenged.
“Y/N, please,” he begged. “I love you. I want this more than anything. And look at what we’ve overcome.”
“Luke, we haven’t overcome anything!” you cried. “We’re still working this out because you’re not being honest with me!”
“I’m telling you my truth!” he returned.
A beat passed in uncomfortable silence.
“Do you believe me when I say that I love you?” he asked.
You held his gaze. Then you took a deep breath.
“No,” you said heavily.
He looked away, unable to form words.
Ben: I’m kind of nervous about today. She’s kept him around long enough for me to think there must really be something there that I’m not seeing. I just hope my connection with her is stronger.
You and Luke returned to where Ben was still waiting. Nothing else had been said. You grabbed Ben’s hand and led him away next, desperate for some relief. Luke made you feel like every step of this process was such a battle. Ben excited you, and you hoped he still did.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Okay,” you said. “I’m sorry to put you through this, I know it’s not easy.”
“No worries, love,” he said. “You’re worth all of this. Every part of this journey.”
You smiled, and you felt warmth returning to your body. You realized within seconds of talking to Ben that Luke made you feel cold and closed off. Ben made you feel warm and open. That was the feeling you were looking for.
“How are you?” you asked him.
“I’m perfect, now I’m with you,” he replied. “I’m not going to lie, watching the other guys going out with you throughout the week isn’t easy, but I’m here for the long haul. I’m ready to stick it out if it means you and me at the end.”
You leaned into his chest and hummed happily. He wrapped his arms around you. Then he pressed his lips to the top of your head. You felt cared for and respected.
“I can’t tell you how relieved I was that you believed me last week,” he said. “Knowing that you trust me, and you’re willing to hear from everyone, it makes me fall for you all the more. You’re fair and kind and patient. I dunno how you put up with the lot of us.”
You giggled and then looked up at him.
“Well, you’re all so handsome, it’s hard to stay mad at you,” you teased.
“I see,” he joked back. “You’re just in it for the eye candy.”
“Haven’t you heard?” you asked sarcastically. “I’m actually looking for a trophy husband.”
He chuckled. “It’s almost hard for me to joke about, since I actually like almost everyone.”
You smiled. “Really?”
“You’ve got a fantastic group here,” he said. “As heartbroken as I’d be if it’s not me and you, I know you’d be in good hands.”
“That’s so sweet, Ben,” you said.
You felt such a soft affection for him in this moment. That comment made one thing abundantly clear to you: Ben wanted only what was best for you, whatever made you happiest, even if it wasn’t him. You wondered how he’d never been in love before, when he gave it so freely and selflessly. Your value to him did not hinge on your behavior with the other men.
You chatted with Ben a while longer, just trying to forget about what Luke had said. Plus, you liked Ben a lot and enjoyed talking to him. It was quickly becoming more than liking him, which scared you a little, but you knew he would be there to catch you once you fell. You were still teetering on the edge.
Your decision was made when you returned to where Luke waited. There was no need to give him any more chances. You didn’t trust him anymore, and you had such different beliefs, it never would work out. You sat down and picked up the rose.
“I’m gonna be perfectly honest and say that this was not a very difficult decision for me today,” you said. “So far, this has been the easiest decision I’ve made.”
You looked at Ben and decided to get right to it.
“Ben, will you accept this rose?”
You heard Luke suck in a soft breath as you and Ben stood up. You pinned the rose on him and hugged him tight. Then you looked at Luke.
“Can I walk you out?” you asked.
“Yeah, okay,” he said, still dazed.
“I’ll be right back,” you told Ben.
You and Luke walked together toward the car that was waiting to take him to the airport. Ben heaved a relieved sigh and sat back down with a wide grin on his face.
Back at the house, Joe was closest to the door when he heard it open. The producer was there to take the luggage.
“Guys!” Joe yelled. “It’s happening!”
The rest of the men rushed to the door to find out who it was. They watched with bated breath as the producer’s hand stretched out and grabbed Luke’s luggage. They all roared with delight and began jumping and hugging each other as the door closed again. Luke was leaving at last!
“Hold on, let me get champagne!” Gwilym cried, jogging to the kitchen.
They all followed him, still laughing and congratulating each other. Gwilym handed out the glasses and Joe stood on the counter to make a toast.
“To Ben,” he said. “For getting that f***er out of here at last.”
“To Ben!” the others echoed before taking a drink.
“And to Y/N,” Rami said. “For making the right choice.”
“Y/N!” they cried, and they all downed their drinks.
Back on the date, you walked Luke to the black van waiting for him. You stood outside the door to let him say something.
“I just…” he trailed off. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m sorry, Luke,” you said. “We’re just too different. We have different beliefs, different values. And we couldn’t move past those things.”
“But I love you,” he said.
You shook your head. “I don’t think you do. I think you love the woman that you want me to be. The version of me that you created who does take part in your faith and share that with you. But that’s not who I am.”
“I…” he lost words again.
“I really am sorry,” you said. “I hope you find that person.”
“Thanks,” he said dully.
You opened the door for him. He slid into the seat. You closed the door and watched the car pull away. You were certain you had done the right thing. Luke was so wrong for you in so many ways. But you meant what you said. You were sure that girl was out there somewhere for him. But he was not for you.
You hurried back to Ben and leapt into his arms when you saw him. You kissed him as you wrapped your legs around his waist.
“It’s just you and me tonight, baby!” you cried.
“Thank God!” he returned.
That night, you and Ben went to a fine restaurant and had a wonderful dinner. It was similar to your one on one, where the conversation flowed. You talked about serious things and lighthearted things. Neither of you brought up Luke again. Ben looked as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
After dinner, you walked around nearby and saw a street performer playing the cello. The melody was soaring and beautiful. Ben spun you into his arms and began to sway with you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and stood with him, heart full. He opened his eyes to meet yours.
“Y/N, I’m falling in love with you,” he said simply.
You saw how much he meant it in those beautiful green eyes of his. Tears welled up in yours. You were no longer teetering. You slipped right off the edge.
“I’m falling in love with you too,” you returned, without thinking.
You were not supposed to say “love” to anyone but the person you got engaged to, but you didn’t feel bad about breaking the rules for Ben. He had shown you today how much you meant to him. And he meant that much to you too. If you weren’t with him at the end of this, you wished only for him to have a happy and fulfilling life. You genuinely hoped he was at the end of this though because you weren’t ready to let him go. You weren’t sure you ever would be.
The following day, you once again decided to cancel the cocktail party. You knew where your heart was, and you didn’t want to drag out the whole night when your mind was made up. So when you arrived at the hotel, you were ready.
The hotel had a lovely ballroom on the first floor where you were having the rose ceremony. You walked in and forced a smile. This was going to be a pretty tough one. Two men would be leaving that you really liked.
“Sorry again for the cocktail party,” you said. “But I really am just trying to follow my heart.”
You waited a beat before picking up the first rose. There were only four.
“Joe,” you called.
He walked forward proudly.
“Joe, will you accept this rose?”
“I will.”
He returned to the group. You picked up the next rose.
“Taron,” you said.
He beamed at you and jogged up.
“Taron, will you accept this rose?” you asked with a smile, since his was contagious.
“Of course.”
You pinned it on him and he walked back over. You saw Richard take a deep breath.
“Richard,” you said.
He exhaled before walking over.
“Richard, will you accept this rose?”
“Always.”
As Richard returned to the group, Chris Harrison walked out.
“Y/N, gentlemen,” he said. “This is the final rose tonight. When you’re ready, Y/N.”
You picked up the rose. You found the man you wanted to give it to.
“Allen,” you said.
You saw the relief wash over him as he approached you.
“Allen, will you accept this rose?”
“I certainly will,” he assured you.
He walked back over to the group. Mike and Kenny looked dejected, and you understood why. It was never easy.
“Kenny, Mike, I’m sorry,” Chris said. “Take a moment, say your goodbyes.”
They took a while to say goodbye to the guys, which did sort of make you feel good. You liked that the remaining men were friends.
Kenny came up to you first.
“I’m sorry,” you said, suddenly choking on the words. You weren’t sure when the tears started. “You deserve so much -”
“Don’t, Y/N,” he said gently. “It was a pleasure getting to know you.”
You nodded and he pulled you into a hug.
“You’re gonna be amazing,” he whispered to you.
With that, he left and headed to the car waiting for him. Mike came up next. You actually sobbed. Mike was such a wonderful man, and you hated that you weren’t there with him.
“I’m so sorry,” you sniffled.
“It’s okay,” he assured you with a smile. “You’re beautiful and strong, okay? I know you’ll find your happiness.”
“You will too,” you replied softly.
He reached over to wipe away a tear with his thumb.
“Good luck, Y/N.”
He too, departed.
The remaining men moved forward to engulf you in a group hug. While you were sure of the decisions you had made, you hated to hurt people, and both Kenny and Mike had told you they were falling for you. But you couldn’t get there with them, and it was terrible. They were great guys. You just knew they weren’t right for you.
“So,” you said, fanning your face a bit. “Next, we’re going to -”
“Y/N!” someone bellowed from the lobby of the hotel.
Your brow furrowed.
“Is that…” you trailed off, eyes going wide with horror.
Then he appeared in the doorway of the ballroom.
“Luke!” you cried. “What are you doing here?!”
“I’m not giving up on us,” he said, marching toward you.
His body language looked dangerous. Joe was closest to you and you reached for him. He immediately caught on and wrapped his arms around you, placing himself between you and Luke.
The other men stood in front of the two of you, not allowing Luke any closer.
“She sent you home, Luke,” said Richard darkly. “You can’t be here.”
“I just wanna talk, Y/N,” Luke said, ignoring Richard and trying to look around him. “Y/N, please! I just wanna work this out!”
“Well, I don’t!” you returned. “Just go!”
“I know there’s something here!” he insisted. “There’s gotta be! Don’t give up!”
You peered at him around Joe’s arm.
“No, there isn’t!” you shouted. “You’re scaring me, Luke. Just leave.”
He moved forward, but Ben placed a hand on his chest.
“Not a step closer,” Ben warned.
“Just stay out of this,” Luke spat.
“She asked you to leave, Luke,” Allen said. “So go.”
“No, I’m not giving up,” Luke said.
“Oh, my God,” you whispered into Joe’s chest. “Oh, my God.”
Joe lowered his lips to your ear. “Don’t worry. We’re not gonna let him anywhere near you.”
“This is just crazy,” you went on. “He’s acting crazy.”
“Y/N, please!” Luke continued to plead.
Chris Harrison at last approached, accompanied by security guards. Chris went directly to you.
“What do you wanna do, Y/N?” he asked. “Do you wanna talk to him?”
“No!” you insisted. “I want him to leave!”
“Okay,” Chris said. He turned to Luke. “Luke, it’s time to go.”
The security guards stepped toward him, but he stepped away.
“Wait!” he pressed. “Wait, Y/N - just - please. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me here. That’s the only way I’ll believe it.”
You met his gaze with a scowl.
“I don’t want you here,” you said venomously. “Get out.”
He sighed, shoulders sagging. Then, he straightened up, turned on his heel, and stormed out. You hoped that was the last you ever saw of him.
“You alright?” Joe asked.
You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.” You looked at Chris. “He did actually leave, right?”
He nodded. “We made sure of it.”
You took a deep breath.
“You wanna tell them where we’re going next?” he asked.
You let yourself smile, even though you were still a bit shaken.
“Yeah,” you said. You addressed the men. “Guys, we’re going to Killarney, Ireland!”
Allen whooped and pumped a fist in the air. You laughed. You knew he’d be excited to be back home in Ireland. But the rest of the guys seemed excited too. You gazed at them in awe. It was hard to believe that you had already narrowed it down to seven guys. Seven incredible guys. You couldn’t ask for more.
That night, as you packed in your hotel room, you heard a knock at the door. For a moment, you feared Luke had come to speak to you again, but you told production you didn’t want him near you. Still, you peeked through the peephole before answering. The man behind it took your breath away. You thought your eyes were playing tricks on you. It couldn’t be! Could it?
You opened the door apprehensively.
“Jamie?”
To be continued…
#gwilym lee#gwilym lee x reader#gwilym lee x you#gwilym lee imagine#ben hardy#ben hardy imagine#ben hardy x reader#ben hardy x you#joe mazzello#allen leech#rami malek#Richard Madden#taron egerton#BoRhap#borhap cast x reader#borhap boys#borhap boys x reader#BoRhap cast#borhap cast imagine#borhap boys imagine#bohemian rhapsody#joe mazzello x reader#taron egerton x reader#richard madden x reader#allen leech x reader#Queen#Brian May#roger taylor#adam lambert#queen imagine
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New Till interview with Zara Magazine.
"I don't think it's the last album. We've worked so hard, we've got so much music, so many songs, that we're actually ready for the next album."
Till Lindemann interview with Zhara Magazine: "I'm too honest."
You are the hero of our secular chronicle: you are credited with an affair with the singer Svetlana Loboda. These rumors are already developed, tell us what happened between you? Till: "They write and talk about us a lot, but it's a secret of two people, and I, as a gentleman, can't comment here in any way, so you won't hear anything from me."
Then let's talk about you. Your youth took place in the socialist Germany. Did it affect your work in any way? Till:"Of course. Without the GDR, Rammstein would not exist. You know, there was no freedom of speech in the socialist countries, we were always clamped down, held back, shut up, and that's why when the Berlin Wall collapsed, everything seemed to have explode under pressure. Without this, Rammstein wouldn't have existed."
What were you doing on the day the Wall collapsed? "I was at home, in the village. I saw everything on TV. I was amazed by this, because it was so unusual. And then I turned off the TV and went to bed. Back then there were no cell phones, nothing. It was impossible to call everyone quickly. But my friends managed that same night to go to West Berlin, to Hamburg, to Lubeck - where it was impossible to get to before. Well, I just went to bed and fell asleep."
Why? "I was scared. There was a fear of the future, really. I did not know what would happen next. Two of my friends from Rammstein, Flake and Paul, were then in the other band. Their band was kind of privileged because they were allowed to go on tour in West Berlin. And so it happened that just that day, they had a concert there. Imagine their faces when they suddenly saw their friends from East Berlin in a crowd of spectators. - “The wall fell apart! - "No way!" They never believed then. It's an amazing story!"
Ah, did your fears come true?
"We have justified it. I was making money back then by weaving baskets. It's an art to weave a basket. In the GDR, this work was very much appreciated, and I got good money. I really worked one day a week, and the rest of the time I was doing music and everything I wanted to do. But then it stopped abruptly, because in the united Germany my baskets were no longer needed. I was out of a job. That's it. I had to adapt to the new conditions. For two years I received some kind of unemployment benefit.
Rammstein was created after the Berlin Wall was destroyed. We all knew each other, played in different groups, but got together and we became friends. We had a small criminal world. We didn't have anything to eat, we were stealing, and we made up the whole story with the band when we were looking for food. We just decided to do something like that. We started playing for ridiculous money like 100 marks, which was nothing at the time, or for food and drinks. We began to travel slowly through Germany and we gained our own public. And now we are here."
Do not miss those days? "No, I definitely don't want to go back. Now I am absolutely happy person and very grateful to fate."
Are you an optimist? "Not. It is better to remain pessimistic and pleasantly surprised than to be optimistic and upset."
Are your poems in the new Messer collection different from the lyrics you write for Rammstein? "Very different. My books are out of control. I am the only one who decides what to write, what not to write, so I do what I want. And in Rammstein there are other people I work with, there are viewers who have everything under control. That's why everything is much more complicated there.
When you write the lyrics for a song, you have to follow a lot of rules, get to the beat, get to the rhythm. In some cases, when a word doesn't fit, it has to be removed, replaced, and because of that the content suffers a lot. Usually it happens like this: when I think that everything is already done, colleagues come in and tell me that they have changed the music a little bit. I have to edit and adapt something again. And this goes on endlessly. I have to rewrite it up to a thousand times until I finish one song. And imagine the difference. I go to sleep with it, I'm waking up with it. It's a 24 hour job that completely absorbs me."
Do you like it? "Honestly, yes. But in those moments when something goes wrong, I feel like a loser and start hating it all."
If you were told as a child that you would write poetry, would you believe it? "No way! I didn't want to do that. My father was a famous poet. And I didn't even think about it. It was all just a coincidence. First I was a drummer, then I started singing, and the guys in the band said, "Since you're a vocalist, you have to write poetry. - Why? - Because all the singers write poems. Such a cliché. I had to start slowly. And now I am still writing. But writing poems to me - never seemed to be a serious job. When I was a young man, I said that I would only become a poet if I couldn't do anything else in my life. My father just exploded and went mad about it. He was typing all day long, and I even thought he was working as a secretary, not taking his work seriously. My classmates' fathers worked in factories, factories, and they had real men's work. What about my father? He just sat there and wrote something on paper."
Now that you understand his work, are you proud to be the son of a writer? "I am proud. And I realized that the genes won. Still, I have a certain heredity. When I first picked up my own book, it was an incredible feeling, just incredible! It's hard to even convey. "Almost the same as when you take your first child in your arms after birth."
How honest are you in your poems? "Absolutely honest. Probably too much, so they are often censored. And unfortunately, a lot is lost in translation too."
Speaking of censorship. You have probably heard that young musicians in Russia have recently been accused of extremism and banned from playing concerts. Have you ever encountered such a thing? "Provocation always sells well. Now the world is like this - everything happens very quickly, and the musicians have only two options: to write some fantastic or lyrical poems that will sell well, or be provocative. Therefore, sometimes people just deliberately try to provoke someone. Just imagine, a column of cars is driving, and suddenly a car appears without a muffler, which rumbles on the whole street: “Pak-Pak-Pak”... That is, it is clear that the person in this car really wants to attract attention. So are these people. They are really trying to stand out through provocation."
Well, Rammstein, probably, can also be included in the category of those who are engaged in provocations. "We were accused of everything, both right and leftwing radicalism, and we were just doing our job. At some point, we even stopped performing in Germany because we were constantly being bullied there. We started to travel in the rest of the world, and everywhere we were greeted with open arms. Honestly speaking, we had to become "big" in order to return to our country. It was very interesting."
What advice would you give to the young musicians who are in this situation now? "First of all - focus on your goal, just keep moving. You don't have to pay attention to anything. You just have to move forward, that's the most important thing."
Your guitarist Richard hinted that the album, which everyone has been waiting for so long, will be the last album. Is that true?
"I don't think it's the last album. We've worked so hard, we've got so much music, so many songs, that we're actually ready for the next album. And, of course, we won't be able to give it up for nothing. But imagine, we haven't released an album in ten years. We performed a lot and that's why we left the studio work. And when you're not in the studio for a long time, it's not easy to get back together. We've been working on this new album for the last three years, and we have to get used to it all again. Of course, when people get tired of working, they say, "All right, that's it! So I know exactly what Richard meant. After three years of hard work, the man is simply tired."
What is the perfect day for Till Lindemann? "This will be a +18 story, and your publication has a different age limit. (Laughs.) But honestly, I can’t even tell where I would like to be, in which city, in which country. When I'm on tour, I wake up every day in a new place and I always enjoy it. I can say that I am happy to wake up in Moscow. (Smiles.) In general, I don’t have one perfect day. Because I like to be surprised!"
https://crocusgroup.ru/…/acd0f3a1c2819d1530ae651e7a90f75d.p…
Translation courtesy of Rammstein Belgium FB
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Green-Eyed Witch
Pairing: Rowena x reader
Summary: Rowena is jealous of a hunter flirting with reader.
Editor: @oswinthestrange
A/N: This story is a gift for my lovely new friend, @hotdiggitydammit. I highly recommend you check out her blog, she makes amazing art! I would also love to thank the wonderful @oswinthestrange not just for lending me her amazing editing skills, but also for helping me out by giving me ideas for this story, and @ultimatefandomtrash61 helping with the title.
Read on AO3.
Rowena MacLeod wasn't a jealous person.
Envious, yes; throughout centuries of learning from better, more powerful witches, it was hard not to wish for power alike that of theirs. The power she'd eventually gained, hell, even surpassed. If they were to see her now, they were the ones who'd be envious of her.
Jealousy, though, was a rare emotion for her. She'd almost forgotten what it felt like, having not experienced it in centuries. Her mind flashed back to Fergus' father. The strong, handsome man who'd sworn to protect her, to love her for the rest of eternity. The man who'd promised her heaven, and had left her in hell of blood and near-death, with a screaming infant in her arms. He and his wife — the woman he'd promised to leave for her. Rowena scoffed at her stupidity. Rule number one of being with a cheater: they never leave their spouse, no matter what they say — had had it all; the money, the glory, the respect . Rowena, on the other hand, had had nothing.
She'd stopped feeling then, pushed her emotions down and built a wall around them to keep them hidden. Emotions were a weakness. Love was a weakness. Jealousy was an unnecessary byproduct of it, and it, too, had made her weak, made her vulnerable to the cruel, merciless world that wanted nothing but to take advantage of the scared, naive peasant girl she used to be.
Yet, watching you talking to a hunter — or rather him talking to you — stirred something up inside of her, an old, deeply buried emotion she hadn't felt in centuries. He was a newcomer, one of the refugees from the alternate world she'd kept the rift open for yesterday, almost to the point of passing out. She hadn't even noticed him the first time around, having been awake for two days and craving rest more than food and water. Today, she'd all but woken up to him chatting with you.
Rowena didn't know why it was bothering her. You'd talked to plenty of men and women in her presence, and she'd never felt anything akin to this. The man was tall and scrawny, with messy hair and a face that had surely once been pretty, but the horrors of war had made it rough, worn out. A scar stretched out from his temple to his upper lip, smooth and pinkish in color. Recent. He wasn't handsome, or even all that attractive, now that she thought about it. But…
There was something about the way he was looking at you that Rowena didn't like. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. His smile was wide, showing off dimples that might have been cute once upon a time, but now looked out of place on his hardened face. His eyes gleamed in delight as you laughed at something he'd said, and his lips curled into a bigger smile to match the one in his gaze. His teeth were yellow, Rowena noticed. Unkempt, like the rest of him. He must have brushed them this morning for the first time in days, maybe even weeks.
He leaned closer to whisper something in your ear. You frowned, then gave a soft laugh, bringing a hand to your mouth to muffle the sound. Rowena stiffened. Her teeth clenched. Her fingers balled into hard, heavy fists, turning the knuckles as white as bone. She narrowed her eyes at the man, her gaze sharp, dangerous. If looks could kill, he would have fallen to his death. He had no business standing that close to you. He had no business whispering to you and making you laugh. That was her job.
He was a nobody, a wee — well, figuratively — man who wouldn't know hygiene if it hit him in the face. A stranger. A hunter. Rowena's face twisted with disgust at the thought, an expression you'd always found adorable. You loved her scrunched up face as much as her pouty one. She couldn't understand the fascination with her expressions, but she found it endearing. Not many people giggled and showered her with compliments simply for making a facial expression. You loved her as she was, with all her flaws and strengths. You loved her laugh, and her freckles, and the way her hair framed her face in the morning, all big and messy. You loved her hands, loved the veins protruding over their tops like fine ink tattoos. You loved her toes, having proclaimed them cute countless times, and loved when she propped herself up on them to kiss you. You loved her, all of her.
That hunter would never have that. He would never know what it was like to be loved by you.
Though, he seemed very intent on getting a taste.
He said something else, and once again you laughed, a tad awkwardly. A growl rose up in the back of Rowena's throat, and she pressed her lips shut, trapping it. That was her laugh. She was the one supposed to elicit it, not some otherworldly hunter.
Did he even like witches? Was this some sort of a ploy to get you alone and kill you? Rowena wouldn't put it past him. Hunters weren't to be trusted. The two of you helping him and the others wasn't enough to erase decades of hatred for everything and anything non-human. Rowena wondered how many witches he'd killed. What if he was a hunter that specialized in killing witches? What if he were cruel and ruthless, like the locals who'd chased her out of her home, who'd made her abandon her son as she ran for her life?
She didn't trust him. And she especially didn't trust him to be that close to you.
He raised his hand and reached out for you. His fingers brushed down your forearm, a soft, gentle slide of skin against skin. You looked down and frowned, confused by the sudden contact. The man quickly pulled his hand back and muttered something which made your lips curl into a smile.
Rowena's blood ran hot, boiling up inside of her like lava in her veins. Who did he think he was, touching you like that? As if it wasn't enough that he was standing next to you, well in your personal space, and making you laugh. He had to touch you, as well?
Rowena was the only one allowed to touch you like that.
The man uttered something again, seemingly a question. You gave it a thought before responding, the smile never leaving your face. You were tense, nervous; you tried to hide it, tried to mask it with a smile, but Rowena could always tell. She knew your body enough by now to understand its language even from afar. You weren't comfortable talking to the hunter. You weren't afraid, having sensed no danger from him, but you weren't fond of being that close to him. He was a stranger, an unknown, and, to top is all off, a hunter. A perfect combination of things you preferred to stay away from, having been burned — both literally and metaphorically — countless times before. You were too polite to tell him to go away.
Lucky for you and extremely unfortunately for him, Rowena wasn't cursed with the same strain of politeness.
She got to her feet with a huff and strode over to you, back straightened, head up high. Lips tight in a line, eyes sharp, expression firm, she looked every bit a businesswoman, confident, serious, a tinge of threat added for good measure.
"Hey," you greeted, smile widening at the sight of her. Your breaths turned lighter, easier. You were relieved to see her, Rowena realized. Relieved not to be this close to this stranger on your own anymore. Your body relaxed, tension unwinding like a ball of yarn being unwrapped.
Rowena returned the smile. She lowered her head on your shoulder and brought a hand to your shoulder blade, gently wrapping her fingers around it, and put her other one around your waist. She pressed herself against you like a cat demanding attention. It wasn't like her to be this clingy around other people; toughness and independence were reputations she'd worked centuries to acquire. This, though, was worth throwing her pride to the wind. You were hers, only hers. Hers to talk to, hers to touch, hers to make laugh.
The hunter frowned, confusion lining his face. Rowena couldn't look at you, but she was willing to bet your expression matched his.
"You're Rowena, right?" he asked, despite already knowing the answer. Small talk. Courtesy.
Rowena wanted to vomit. "Aye, that's me," she said. She gave him the fakest of fake smiles, deliberately obvious. Her tone matched it.
"I'm Eli." He extended his hand. She didn't shake it. He pulled it back and swallowed, nervous. Good, Rowena thought. He had reason to be nervous. Good lad. "Sam and Dean said you kept the rift open for us. Thank you." It was genuine.
"Och, it was just business," Rowena said with feigned modesty. The compliment appealed to her, even if its owner didn't. She wasn't one to turn down praise. She looked into his eyes. "Do you like witches, Eli?" She said his name in a thick accent.
Confusion spilled over his face like paint. He wasn't sure how to respond to that. He wasn't used to surprises, the poor lad. Rowena wondered how he'd managed to survive so long in a world as wild and unpredictable as his. "Um…"
"It's okay if you don't. I imagine most people here hold a similar opinion," she said, nonchalance as fake as her smile. Hell, even Sam and Dean, the closest thing she had to friends, weren't too fond of her kind. People from a supernatural-war-torn world were bound to hold some prejudices.
It was alright. Rowena wasn't fond of humans, either.
"I-I think you guys are cool," Eli said, struggling to find the right words.
"Do you, now?" She narrowed her eyes at him in mock suspicion, and made it look real. "You know, Eli, there's more to us as a species. We don't exist just to be 'cool.'"
He swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. "I didn't mean any disrespect…"
"Och, I know, dear boy, I know." She emphasized it with an exaggerated nod. "Still, it's a point to keep in mind, aye?"
"Of course!"
Of course. Not so flirty now, was he?
"We're all very grateful for what you did for us," he added.
They had bloody well better be! Rowena had stayed up for over two days. A few times she'd almost passed out, drained and tired. Keeping the rift open had taken a lot out of her; a lot more than she'd expected it would. Was it worth it? Yes. She would argue that it was. She'd made good on her word. She'd helped people. She'd made progress on her goal of redemption. But damn, would she have regretted it all had one — just one — of the people she'd exhausted herself for so much as looked at her the wrong way. Or tried to steal her girlfriend.
Eli was walking on a thin line.
"What were you two talking about?" Rowena asked. It was time she got to the point.
Eli's cheeks flushed as if he'd been caught doing something illegal. Which he kind of was, depending on your definition of illegal. "Stuff," he said in a small voice.
Rowena frowned, suspicion growing. "What kind of stuff?"
He shrugged. "Just stuff."
"Like?"
"The weather."
"The weather?" Seriously? That was his pickup line? Amateur! Rowena barely held back a look of disgust. This man, this hunter, was flirting — or rather attempting to flirt — with you right in front of her, and he had the audacity to do it poorly.
He had the decency to look embarrassed. "Why-why do you wanna know?" She shot him a look, and, startled, he quickly added, "No offense."
She intimidated him. Good. Very good. "It seemed like an interesting conversation," she said snidely, not even trying to hide the hostility. "I thought I might join in. I'm always interested in what my girlfriend has to say."
Eli paled as soon as the words left her mouth, face as white as a sheet. "Girlfriend?"
"You didn't know?" Rowena asked with fake compassion, too expressive, exaggerated, like an actress in an overly dramatic soap opera. "We've been together for two years now."
His eyes widened. A bead of sweat popped up on his forehead and slid down his face. Something in Rowena burst in joy at his expression, so frightened, so lost, a petty, sadistic streak she thought she'd lost. She was glad she hadn't. Just because she wasn't black anymore didn't mean she had to be white. Gray was a rather pretty color. Not her favorite, but it suited her quite well.
"That's great," Eli said, after taking a breath to compose his thoughts.
"We make a great pair, don't you think?" she asked, then pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder and huddled closer into you. Eli nodded. "Y/N has always been kind to me. Because of that, I've grown a bit protective of her. If someone were to threaten our relationship, I would do anything to defend it. Anything." The last word came out in a purr; a threat, a warning. "You can understand that, right?"
"Yes," Eli said instantly, emphasizing it with rapid nods.
Good boy.
Rowena was about to say so, eagerly so, when you spoke for the first time since she'd crashed the, ahem, conversation, cutting her off before she even got a chance to open her mouth. "Rowena, can we talk for a minute?"
"Why, of course, my dear!" She lifted her head off your shoulder and shot you a delighted smile, with a dash of innocence sprinkled into it. Not obvious at all. Nope. "Anything for you."
"Bedroom," you said, giving her the same sickeningly sweet smile of lies.
Rowena turned to Eli. "I'm terribly sorry to have to cut this short. It was a pleasure to meet you, Eli."
"Likewise," he said, and didn't mean it. "See you around, I guess, Y/N, Rowena." He nodded at each of you.
"It's Miss MacLeod for you."
"Miss MacLeod," he quickly corrected himself.
You grabbed Rowena's wrist and pulled her after you before she could laugh in his face. Not that she would have; she would have simply sneered. But she was tempted to. She barely held back a fit of laughter as you shoved into the room and closed the door after her. Unlike her, you didn't seem to be in a laughing mood.
"What the hell are you doing?" you demanded.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She didn't really believe it would work. It never did. You always knew when she was pretending. She could fool anyone — hell, she'd even fooled the Devil himself more than once — but she could never fool you.
Once upon a time, Rowena would have been terrified that someone knew her that well. Now, she was glad. You listened when she talked. You paid attention to her behavior, to the very details of language her tiny body displayed. You cared. No one had ever cared before; not to this extent.
"Rowena," you said, tone a tad lower, a warning.
"What?" she said defensively.
"You know that's not gonna work on me."
She did know. It was still worth a try. She pouted like a child who'd just been told off by their parent after being caught doing something naughty.
You rolled your eyes. No melting at the cuteness? Rowena was disappointed. Usually, pouting did you in, made you give up the argument the moment her lips would give the slightest sign of puckering up. Had she overused it? Had you developed immunity to her charms of adorableness? Heart sinking, she hoped not. She enjoyed you gushing over her like an overexcited fangirl.
"What's gotten into you?"
"Nothing," Rowena said. What's gotten into an otherworlder, a hunter at that, to flirt with you right in front of her? That would have made a far better question.
You sighed, then took a deep, calming breath. "Look, I don't like hunters any more than you do, but we can't antagonize them. We're surrounded by them." You raised up your hands and made a wide gesture to emphasize your point. "What'd we do if they retaliate? There's over twenty of them and two of us. I doubt Sam and Dean'd be on our side if they found out we've been rude to their hunter buddies."
Rowena's jaw dropped. She stared at you, disbelieving, outraged. "That numbnut should have thought of that before he tried to get into your pants!"
Your brows furrowed, features twisting into a look of sheer confusion. You were looking at her as if she'd suddenly grown a second head, or her hair had inexplicably turned purple. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about Eli flirting with you!"
"What?" You started to laugh, finding the claim ridiculous, and then decided against it and pressed your lips into a line. "No, he wasn't."
You meant it. Rowena could tell you did.
"Oh, he was," she said.
"No." You shook her head. "He wasn't. He was just…" Your eyes widened as realization began to sink it. "Was he?"
Rowena resisted the urge to slam her palm into her forehead. How could someone be so completely and utterly clueless? The man could have screamed in your face that he wanted to fuck you, and you still wouldn't get the hint.
"He was," she said. "He was bloody terrible at it, but he was flirting." You suddenly looked embarrassed. She smirked; she couldn't help being amused at your ignorance. "What'd you think he was doing?"
The man looked like he wanted to jump you right then and there. Her face twisted with disgust, then anger, at the thought. How dare he think of doing that with you? How dare he think he even had a chance?
"I just thought he was one of those annoying people who like to talk to strangers," you said with a shrug.
Bless your precious heart. Sometimes, Rowena longed for the days of innocence much alike that of yours. Days when she'd looked forward to the future, when she'd believed in dreams and the good in people. Days when she was just a girl, pale and scared. When every new day was an adventure, and every new person she'd met was an ally rather than an enemy. Days before the cruelty of the world had corrupted her, turned her bright, hopeful heart black.
"Good god, lass!"
You blushed. "He wasn't that obvious," you said in an attempt to defend yourself.
"He was practically drooling," Rowena said. The memory filled her with resentment. Her fists clenched, nails digging into the skin of her palms. Her old self would have killed him for daring to look at you, an example to others with thoughts similar to his — don't mess with her property. Damn her newfound conscience, and damn her redemption! Being good — well, sort of — sucked.
"You're exaggerating."
"A few minutes more, and he would've shot up like a geyser!"
"Could've done without the visual, thanks," you said, grossed out. Your eyes narrowed, curious. Suspicious. "Why're you so worked up over this? You know I'd never cheat."
"Because…" Why, indeed? Rowena wasn't sure. All she knew with utmost certainty was that that man had no business acting the way that he had towards her girlfriend. Hers. Never his, or anyone else's. Hers.
"Are you jealous?" A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you said it, teasing, playful, like a cat who'd caught a mouse and was tossing it around, sadistically enjoying its attempts to escape.
"No!" Rowena fired as soon as the question left your mouth and turned her head away, avoiding your eyes. She, jealous? Ridiculous! The great and powerful Rowena MacLeod would never succumb to such lowly emotions as jealousy.
"You are! You're jealous!" you all but beamed, as if you'd been looking forward to this conclusion.
"I'm not jealous!" Rowena denied. Simply because she wasn't fond of a strange man whispering to you, making you laugh, and touching your arm didn't mean she was jealous. Precautious — that was what she was. Yes. She was precautious. You knew nothing about those people, about their way of life. Each and every one of them had potential to be dangerous. They were in need of help, yes, but that didn't make them innocent. What if there was a serial killer amongst them? Or a child molester? A rapist? A hunter with a taste for witch blood? What kind of a girlfriend would she be if she disregarded those possibilities? You were still but a newbie witch, naive, precious. You hadn't experienced the world's cruelty the way that she had.
"You totally are!" You were giggling now, like a schoolgirl whose friend had confided in her about her latest crush.
Blood rushed to Rowena's rosy cheeks, turning them red as ripe, blooming poppies. "Am not," she insisted stubbornly.
A shadow of a doubt crept into her mind. Was she jealous? No, she told herself. She wasn't. She couldn't be. She wanted your laughs to herself. She wanted her hand to brush against your arm, not Eli's. So what? She was your girlfriend. It was only natural she wanted you, all of you, all to herself.
Right?
You shook your head, not believing her for a second. At this point, Rowena wasn't sure she, herself, believed her own words.
"Oh, my god!" Your giggles morphed into full-blown laughter. You doubled over, hands instinctively pressing to your stomach as you laughed and laughed and laughed, seemingly forever. "You're adorable!"
Oh, now she was adorable. "I am not adorable, and this is not funny," Rowena said with a scoff. Rude.
"I think it's hilarious!"
"Stop it!" She pouted again. Her lower lip quivered as if she were about to cry. She wasn't jealous! Honestly. She wasn't.
Alright, maybe she was. A teeny, tiny bit. She wasn't that obvious, like Eli and his bloody awful flirting. She had the decency to be subtle.
You straightened up and walked over to her, lowering your hands onto her shoulders. Your eyes locked with hers, the look in them bright, cheerful, teasing. Underneath it all Rowena could see love, devotion like no other. "My little cutie pie," you cooed. Your finger tapped the tip of her nose, then slid down over her puckered up, shaky lip. "You have no reason to be jealous."
"I'm not—" Rowena tried, but stopped herself before finishing it. The cat was out of the bag. There was no use denying it anymore. She sighed, took a breath to compose herself, and straightened up, proud, dignified, like a queen standing before her people, about to give a long, inspirational speech following a hard-fought victory. "You're mine, Y/N."
"And I always will be."
She knew you would. But having spent centuries betrayed and broken, treated more like a toy than a person, Rowena had learned to fight for what she had, for what was hers. For if she didn't, it would be taken from her. It always was. Even the thought of someone ripping you from her made her heart beat faster in fear. She couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the possibility of you not being there when she woke up, not holding her hand, not calling her name when you needed her.
"I know. I just…" I'm scared, she thought. Frozen in fear. Terrified beyond belief. You were the one good thing in her life, the one thing she hadn't managed to screw up. She couldn't lose you.
"I know sweetheart," you said, as if you'd read her thoughts. Your voice was gentle, sweet, soothing, radiating love she never thought she'd get again. She didn't deserve it, yet here you were, loving her more than anything in the world. Lucky old witch, she was. You brought your hands to her cheeks, cupping them into your palms. "I'm not gonna leave you. It's never gonna happen. You're stuck with me."
"Lucky me," Rowena said sarcastically, flashing a small smile. You had no idea how lucky she was to have you, to have the privilege to call you hers. To love you and be loved in return.
Lucky her, indeed.
You gave a light chuckle. "Besides, Eli's not even my type."
"Pray tell, what is your type?"
You pretended to think it through for a moment. "Short, pale, green-eyed gingers with anger issues."
Rowena quirked up an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"
"Uh-hum," you said with a nod. "Scottish. A bit annoying. Mean, sometimes. With impeccable fashion sense and strange love for glittery makeup. Jealous, though they claim not to be."
"Sounds like someone I know," she said.
"It totally does," you agreed. You pressed your lips to hers for a kiss, sweet and soft, a gentle brush of skin over skin. "I love you, you adorable, silly creature."
"I love you, too, you clueless girl."
Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @darktweet @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @royalrowena @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @victoriasagittariablack @rowenaswife @dropsofpetrichor @fromflametofire @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @elaspn @cas-loves-dean-and-i-love-him @faeyla @hotdiggitydammit @thaiinette
#rowena#rowena macleod#rowena x reader#spn#supernatural#rowena macleod x reader#my fics#green-eyed witch#fic#fics#fanfic#fanfics#fanfiction
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13 Reasons Why I Didn’t Regret Watching #RealityHigh [SPOILERS]
see what i did there
Let me start by saying, we’ve all seen this movie. We’ve all read this book. So much that someone called it every story on Wattpad after watching the overly indulgent trailer (no seriously, who edited that trailer? you basically put the whole movie in there). However, even with the used up nerd gets the cool guy/girl storyline, there were a few devices that stuck out that aren’t usually a part of this trope. That’s what I'm going to discuss. There are a few spoilers but because it’s so predictable I’m not sure if it’ll make a difference; you make the call. The film does have a few plot twists though, which I will keep out.
I must be honest and say I only watched this because I saw that Keith Powers was in it and I needed something to do while I adjusted this weave. But I was surprised to find things I liked outside of the beautiful cinematography and beautiful, beautiful man.
1. Racial Diversity
Diversity is super important to me. Everything from schools to make-up to media should be diverse and a good representation of all people. Not only are the A and B characters racially diverse, but the school seems to be populated with a little bit of everyone. You can tell the casting call for extras didn’t say “all races welcome but if you’re blonde with blue eyes that would be preferred”. I’m not sure how realistic said diversity is for that particular part of California, but it’s no matter as this type of diversity needs to be pushed regardless. And even though Cameron is the “token” of his particular friend group, he is front and center of the story.
It’s refreshing to see people of color at the forefront of an innocent corny little loves story. We are rarely allowed those.
2. Annoying Younger Sibling Was Actually Funny
And she was a great actress.
When it comes to kids and acting we tend to give them passes because they’re adorable and, well, they’re kids. But this particular child was kind of phenomenal. She was smart, witty, sociable, and her shade delivery was A1. She was like Louise Belcher in live action. I found out her name is Leah Rose and she is freaking amazing. Her punchlines are arguably the most entertaining part of this movie.
3. Healthy, Supportive Male Friends
Usually, The Popular Kids make fun of the Nerd and even play a huge part in the bullying. But in this movie, Cameron’s (Keith Powers) friends are very supportive and even prefer her over his ex, Alexa (Cool Mean Girl). So much that Shannon gave him some advice and let him know that he was going to have to work hard because Dani (Nerd) was a woman of deeper substance. They, in fact, called him out for dating Alexa for her status and looks. What makes this even better is that they warm up to Dani immediately. There is no protest at all against her hanging out with them.
Maybe I don’t watch enough TV but, I seldom see young men/boys with good friends like this.
4. “No, Dad, This Is Your Dream!”
We’ve all seen the thing where the kid wants one thing but the parent wants another because they’re grossly and vicariously living through their children because they were a loser in their youth. There’s some of that in here.
However, Cameron actually likes swimming (yes, issa black boy that swims) but he wants to college instead of the Olympics (let it simmer).
I love my black men. But I’m going to be honest and say I can’t think of one black male friend who wouldn’t jump right over the college hurdle and right into the big time. I don’t blame them either. College is a scam.
But for those of you black children who are out there who’d rather learn stuff than do sports (because they do exist), that’s still chill. Black men have more to offer than their bodies and athleticism and Cameron is a great representation of that.
5. Cool Mean Girl Takes Several Ls
Normally there’s this huge embarrassing thing that takes place in public at the end of the movie right before Nerd and The Cool Guy kiss. Because Cool Mean Girl, much like our government, is usually way too powerful to take down no matter how awful she is. But Alexa takes several hits throughout the movie that makes me wonder why she didn't just give up. I also love how her friends didn’t put up with her shit. Miguel dabbled and humored her. But for the most part, her friends, like Cameron, were all #TeamDani. Which is cool because this movie sort of steered away from the “popular people are mean” story. There’s literally just one bitch here.
6. Dani Kept Her Curly Hair
In these movies, the Nerd always has gorgeous, unruly curly hair. Then when it comes time to “evolve” they straighten it and are seen as “more beautiful”.
Shitty message Hollywood.
Though Dani does rock some straight styles, she goes back and forth and does not completely ditch her curls. This one sort of segways into the next point.
7. There’s No Huge, Dramatic Make Over Scene
You will not find a shopping, plucking, and tucking montage accompanied by a early 2000s punk-pop classic in this movie. Thank God.
In fact, she does all her beautifying herself in preparation for a college interview. Her intentions were not for the attention of Cameron or the male gaze at all. In hindsight, she really just began taking better care of her appearance and stopped wearing “foot gloves”.
8. Realistic Teen Drinking
A lot of us did it, okay.
I’m in no way endorsing that and it was definitely wrong. But we did it. It’s not uncommon for a group of teenagers to raid the liquor cabinet at a sleepover while the parents slept. It was all in good fun and it usually involved dancing and the oversharing of thoughts... very much like what we did in college dorms.
This probably makes me seem like a dick: but I’m glad there was no message here. It was just kids having fun, getting messed up and taking an uber home.
9. Multiple GBFs
They didn’t just throw one gay boy in here and ever so contently say “yup we’ve met our lgbt quota we are #inclusive”
There’s a tambourine player in just about every subgroup, each serving a different purpose and I am here for it.
10. Multiple Climaxes...... :)
Typically in storytelling, there’s this one big climax. In this particular story, it’s usually said Cool Guy dumping his girlfriend and jerk posse for the Nerd who miraculously turned back into a loser. Nerd and Cool Guy live happily ever after.
But in this, Girl gets Boy pretty damn early. Like, first 30 minutes of the movie early. Also, though Dani did revert back to her nerd attire she bounced right back after she got out of a slump. Almost as if what she wore was a reflection of how she felt about herself rather than the clothes wearing her and giving her a new attitude. She has the power not the other way around (if that makes sense).
The part where Alexa’s friends dumped her was also a kicker.
11. The Actor Plays Awkward Well
Nesta Cooper (who looks very much like Youtuber AndreasChoice) really nailed Dani. Usually, the actor who has to play this role weirdly overcompensates the awkward and it does not read well on the other side of the screen. It becomes the bad kind of awkward instead of funny and relatable. Also, there's no huge exaggerated falling in the middle of the hall or knocking over a whole bookshelf. She was realistically awkward and I loved it.
12. Wealthy Black Parents
It was great to see black families who were well off without it being a part of the actual storyline. Dani’s parents and Cameron’s dad are clearly blessed but they are so without being the typical Black Bourgeoisie. I’m happy that Alexa (latina) was wealthy as well but that played a part of her character so it’s not really worth me mentioning in deep detail.
13. The “Good Guy”/”Gazing Best Friend” Doesn’t Win A Grand Prize Of “The Girl” As Reward For Being A Good Friend
This is probably my favorite part of this movie. Freddie, the best friend, who is in love with Dani, doesn't get her. I just knew that was where the story was going. Especially after Dani and Cameron broke up. If that had happened, I would have been upset for many reasons. One being, Cameron was a good guy who wanted Dani, Dani was a good girl who wanted Cameron. They were attracted to each other, they liked each other. Girls are allowed to entertain guys they are attracted to. Just because you’ve been there her whole life and listened to all her problems doesn’t mean you get to “have” her. That’s literally being a freaking friend. If girls screwed every guy that was nice to them because that’s all that was required, there’d be a new strain of hepatitis floating around.
Overall I was pleasantly surprised. Definitely something you should watch if you have the time because there’s a little something for everyone in it. However, a part of me wonders if I had been expecting something spectacular would I be disappointed right now.
♡
#keith powers#nesta cooper#realityhigh#reality high#netflx#movie review#reviews#think pieces#mass media#review#think piece
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New Post has been published on https://magzoso.com/tech/supermodel-karlie-klosss-lesson-to-young-women-never-be-afraid-to-ask-questions/
Supermodel Karlie Kloss's Lesson to Young Women: Never Be Afraid to Ask Questions!
The Project Runway host built a coding school, Kode With Klossy, to inspire a generation of tech-savvy women. But her real mission, she says, is much broader.
December 24, 2019 13 min read
This story appears in the October 2019 issue of Entrepreneur. Subscribe »
The view is stunning up here, from the 34th floor of this downtown Manhattan office building. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the day is bright and clear. But the 24 teenage girls occupying the space are over it. Their noses are buried in MacBooks, while a soundtrack of Disney hits plays in the background. There’s work to be done, after all: They’re students at a nonprofit coding camp called Kode With Klossy, and today’s assignment is to design and code an online photo gallery.
They’re so focused on the task, in fact, that they don’t notice when the camp’s creator and very famous namesake walks in.
“Hey, guys,” says supermodel, Project Runway host, and coding enthusiast Karlie Kloss, as she gives the students a friendly wave. The girls seem a bit too stunned to react. Eyes widen as they glance around at each other, quietly nodding with shared enthusiasm. But before they can do much of anything else, the 27-year-old Kloss is checking out their work, bringing her six-foot-two-inch frame to a squat so she can be eye level with her students and their screens. For the next 90 minutes, she asks questions about their code and their plans for the future — though conversation occasionally veers off to Harry Potter and chocolate chip cookies.
If it’s all a little surreal inside this room, it can look even more so from the outside. Kode With Klossy operates in 16 cities and this year alone gave almost 1,000 young women the (free) opportunity to learn a critical skill. It has attracted a wide range of support, though also the inevitable skepticism. Supermodels, after all, aren’t supposed to code.
Related: Karlie Kloss Looks to These Female Founders for Inspiration
Kloss has heard it before. And she has a straightforward response. “There are a lot of misconceptions about being a model, and how that directly correlates to your intellect,” she says. “Yes, I’m a model, yes, I’m a woman, and, yes, I’m interested in these areas. And I think a lot of other young women are interested in these areas, too, and they deserve the opportunity to learn about them and decide for themselves if they belong or not.”
Kloss is careful to never claim expertise in the world of computer science. She’s an enthusiast. She can code, but she considers herself a perpetual student of the craft — and a person not defined by others’ expectations. That, she hopes, is the sensibility her students will come away with. More than attaining any level of coding experience, she wants Kode With Klossy’s attendees to appreciate the power of curiosity and the willingness to ask questions. She owes her career to this instinct, she says. And she’ll continue to use it as her professional life evolves.
As Kloss makes her rounds at the camp, one young coder sings the praises of the instructors but sheepishly apologizes for asking them too many questions. “No!” Kloss says emphatically. “Do not apologize. That’s what they’re here for. You should always ask your questions.”
Image Credit: Jake Chessum
Kloss grew up in St. Louis with her mom, dad, and three sisters. At 13, she participated in a local charity fashion show and was, as they say, discovered. By 15, she was walking the runway for Calvin Klein. In the years that followed, Kloss became one of fashion’s favorite faces, gracing countless runways and magazine covers. (To date, she’s covered various editions of Vogue 40 times.)
But by 2014, she wanted more. “I was 21, a bit of a veteran in fashion — it’s like dog years — and I just wasn’t feeling challenged,” Kloss says. “I was so in awe of what was happening in tech but a bit frustrated that I didn’t understand it. Why do certain people know how to scale businesses and ideas and problem-solving? What is it that certain people — primarily men, and primarily highly intellectual men, or at least men who are perceived to be super smart — are privy to that the rest of the world isn’t?”
To answer those questions, she signed up for a two-week coding boot camp at the Flatiron School in New York. Kloss was captivated by the experience. “The way I learned code was very real-world applicable,” she says. “Being able to understand the building blocks of [technology]? It turns the lights on. It turned the lights on for me.”
In the months that followed, she kept studying. She struck up a friendship with Flatiron School cofounder Avi Flombaum, who helped her along. And as her fluency in code continued to grow, she started to think about how many other women could benefit from the same perspective-changing experience.
“I had an audience of young women paying attention to me on social media and in my career, and I wanted to connect them to opportunities that could really open their minds and open doors in their lives,” she says. “It’s not only a responsibility but a real privilege to be able to point someone in a direction that could be valuable to them.”
Related: In Pitching Your Business, Take Every ‘No’ As a ‘Not Now,’ Says This Founder
But how? Kloss decided to start with what she knew. The summer after she learned to code, she partnered with the Flatiron School to underwrite 21 boot camp spots for young women. She publicized the opportunity on her social media channels and was surprised by the response. Thousands of applications came in.
This got her thinking about what it would take to reach more women. The first step, it seemed, was to build something herself — something she could eventually scale nationwide. “I had no idea how, or even the intention, to build a nonprofit or anything in this realm,” she says. “I had no idea what I was doing.”
But then again, she didn’t know anything about code until she threw herself into the boot camp. “It’s just been about figuring it out as you go,” she says.
Image Credit: Jake Chessum
Kloss calls her camp “my nights, my weekends, my day job, my baby.” But at the very beginning, it was just her puzzle. She had no experience building something like this, but she did have an enviable professional network. She counts Diane Von Furstenberg and Anna Wintour as mentors, and has longstanding business relationships with brands including Adidas and Carolina Herrera. So she made some calls and got some direction.
“Like with any business, you focus on an area you understand,” she says. “And as you grow, identify who else out there is doing good work, and figure out how you can align to better accomplish your goals.”
That became her approach. She had a vision; now she needed to piece together the right operational elements. She assembled a team of what would become five full-time staffers, and at first, they simply expanded their partnership with the Flatiron School. In 2016, Kode With Klossy launched as a stand-alone nonprofit, hosting two-week camps for girls ages 13 to 18 in New York, St. Louis, and Los Angeles. In 2017, the program expanded to 11 cities. By 2019, it was in 16 locales.
As Kloss and her tiny team have taken on more and more of the logistics and back-end operations, they’ve required additional partners. The Turing School of Software and Design now helps craft a technical curriculum. Teach for America has also signed on, tapping into its network of teachers, and, with an assist from Kode With Klossy, is teaching them to code, and then training them to teach code.
Related: Model and Entrepreneur Karlie Kloss Shares the Importance of Always Learning
Students — which the program calls “scholars” — apply for a coveted, completely free spot at one of the camps, which aims to select students who otherwise wouldn’t have easy access to these kinds of opportunities. Those accepted spend two weeks learning code, attending workshops on topics like career paths and financial literacy, and building various projects until “Demo Day,” when they pitch their completed websites or apps to their teachers, fellow students, and parents. Past projects have included an app that connects students with peer tutors and another that helps users locate public gender-neutral bathrooms.
As the guts of the program have become increasingly well-oiled, Kloss has relied on her existing network to make Kode With Klossy’s offerings as robust as possible.
As a brand ambassador and face of Estée Lauder makeup, for example, this summer Kloss arranged for the cosmetic giant’s female engineers to speak to scholars, and created an exercise that allowed them to explore the back-end design of a new digital campaign for the corporation. The partnership provided summer internships at Estée Lauder for two Kode With Klossy alumnae.
Kloss also aligned with Away, the travel startup, which she’s invested in. (Her growing portfolio includes the female-founded brands Lola, which makes feminine products, and SkinTe, a collagen-infused tea.) In 2018, Away launched an exclusive collection of luggage in new colors, designed in collaboration with Kode With Klossy. Sales benefited the coding organization.
Kloss herself isn’t able to visit every camp — she tried at first, but the endeavor has simply grown too big. So she appears where she can and makes sure to FaceTime in with the rest. As she does, and as she’s talked to the girls who attend, she’s come to realize that her program is providing something that she herself lacked as a child.
“I wanted to become a teacher or a doctor, because that’s what I saw: My dad’s an ER doctor, and I had amazing teachers at my public school who really helped me love learning,” she says. “But those were the only avenues forward I saw. So now, for example, we have one scholar who’s a really gifted artist, and when she tells me she wants to go into game design, I’m like: ‘Yes! That is a great application of both of your passions.’ ”
For Kloss as well as her young scholars, coding boot camps become a portal to a bigger world. For the supermodel, it was an awakening that led her to create one of her own. And now, for the students at that camp, it’s a beginning that can lead anywhere.
Image Credit: Kode with Klossy
In spring 2017, Valeria Torres-Olivares was wrapping up her junior year of high school in Princeton, N.J. She’d taken a couple of computer science classes and loved what she learned but found the experience to be isolating.
“I was one of the only girls in my classroom, and I was the only Latina in any of the computer science classes at my school,” she says. “I felt almost unqualified to ask questions, like I should be able to figure them out for myself. That can spiral into a lot of self-doubt.”
Related: 5 Things I’ve Learned Teaching Hundreds of People How to Code
So she decided to apply to be a Kode With Klossy scholar and encouraged her little sister Kyara, who was 13 at the time, to do the same. (“I wanted her to be exposed to code, but in a different environment,” she says.) They recorded a joint video application and were accepted. The experience changed everything.
“I had never been in an all-female STEM environment before, and I expected some sort of weird competitive vibe to be happening,” she admits. “But it was one of the best learning environments I’d ever been in. My sister and I both fell in love with how collaborative it was. No one was afraid to ask what might be labeled as ‘dumb’ questions.”
Torres-Olivares went all in after that. She spent the next two summers with Kode With Klossy — once more as an attendee, and then as a paid instructor’s assistant. And like Kloss, she immediately knew she wanted to share her knowledge.
With her little sister, Torres-Olivares approached her local library and offered to host and teach free coding classes for kids. That kicked off a new organization, Code Equal, which she launched in Princeton in 2017. It has since served more than 200 students and held workshops at Fordham and Rutgers universities. This year, Code Equal will launch classes in Detroit and Omaha.
“Kode With Klossy has an amazing network of students and instructors, and we have massive group chats where people are always supporting each other,” says Torres-Olivares, who is now a sophomore at Princeton University, where she’s studying computer science with plans to create a custom major that blends the craft of code with public policy. “Because of that, we’ve been able to expand our mission.”
For Kloss, these are the stories that prove the organization’s success — not because former scholars are choosing to commit to code, but because they’re choosing to create their own path. Next, she wants to dedicate more resources to empowering that budding alumnae network and has her eye on programming for girls younger than 13 and for women older than 18.
“In the grand scheme of things, a Kode With Klossy camp is a short two weeks,” Kloss says. “But our scholars take it and run with it. We’re at a point in this organization where we’ve only just scratched the surface, and it’s time to look at what’s working, and innovate and scale. But being able to see impact in even one person? It’s so much bigger than what I ever imagined.”
Check out more stories from our October/November issue’s list of 100 Powerful Women.
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How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days (USA, 2003)
This week, not a special bonus edition of Romcomathon, but a regular edition featuring a special bonus GUEST!!!! Our friend Tillery passionately loves this movie, so we simply had to invite him to join us for this entry. In Tillery's own words, "You know how people have seen Star Wars like 20 times, and everyone talks about the movie that they've seen the most? This is the movie I've seen the most. I was once dumped on my birthday, but the actual worst thing that's ever happened to me was my disappointment that Fool's Gold was not a worthy follow-up to this movie." Tillery wanted to dress up for this event but, sadly, discovered that a Knicks jersey was probably too expensive an item to purchase for this one-off activity. Nor did he bring us a love fern. Shame on him.
Predictions: The three of us have all seen this movie several times. In fact, when Tillery eagerly accepted our invitation to join for movie night, he asked if he should bring the DVD or if we already had a copy, and we were like, “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA, in fact we already have two copies, thanks.” We predict that we will have a great time watching this film.
"For some reason I was thinking it was only 90 minutes, and I'm so happy that it's an hour and 55." -- Tillery, seeing the run time at the bottom of the screen.
Plot: First of all, if you haven't seen this movie, you really should. This movie is fantastic. It is funny. It is charming. It is incredibly well-constructed. BUT FINE, WE'LL TELL YOU WHAT HAPPENS IN IT. (Tillery: "Even though you should already be watching it right now.")
Kate Hudson is a ~*~serious reporter~*~ who happens to currently work at, well, Cosmo, essentially, under Bebe Neuwirth, who insists that she write only frivolous "How To" articles, while Kate Hudson would prefer to be bringing peace to Tajikistan. Because that's what Tajikistan needs: a "How To" article. But one day, Kate Hudson's excessively pathetic friend/coworker Kathryn Hahn gets dumped yet again, because she is leading her excessively pathetic life in what appears to be an old lady's apartment (clearly murdered someone and stole their identity AND THEIR CLOTHES) and doesn’t know how to not terrify men, and Kate Hudson has a stroke of inspiration. Her next article will be “How To Kathryn-Hahn Your Way Out Of A Relationship,” or, as Bebe Neuwirth more succinctly names it, "How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days."
Enter Matthew McConaughey, an ambitious advertising executive who's looking to stop selling athletic gear and start selling ~*~DIAMONDS~*~. He somehow finds his way into a bet with his boss (and his one-dimensional conniving colleagues) that he can make any woman fall in love with him, because APPARENTLY that is precisely the skill one needs to successfully advertise diamonds. Bit of a leap in logic? Sure. But we must accept this premise in order to move forward with this charming film, and so we shall.
That night, at the bar, both Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey are scoping for prey. With a little nudge from Conniving Colleague #1, they find each other. They immediately hit it off and spend the rest of the evening together, during which they hatch their respective plans. Matthew McConaughey is playing the slow game, if you can call falling in love in 10 days slow. Kate Hudson intends to transform into a crazy person the very next day, driving him away as quickly as she can. Shenanigans ensue, for approximately the next week. Kate Hudson gets more and more psychotic, to the point that, if we were Matthew McConaughey, we might pursue a restraining order or seek to have her seen by a physician, while Matthew McConaughey does everything possible to accommodate her, including accompanying her to a Celine Dion concert and allowing her to name his penis. Yikes.
Eventually, Matthew McConaughey reaches his breaking point, and they almost break up, but then his coworkers persuade him to hang in there -- just four more days!!!! They go to couples therapy at Kathryn Hahn's apartment, and Fake Dr. Kathryn Hahn, to Kate Hudson's horror, encourages them to visit his family in Staten Island.
♫ Staten Island, where people fall in love! ♫
On Staten Island, we meet Matthew McConaughey's family, which is weird, because his accent up to this point would have led us to believe his family was in Texas. His mom also sounds pretty Southern. Where is this family from?? Maybe they...recently moved???? These linguistic quirks, however, do not bother Kate Hudson, who quickly bonds with his family over a game of Bullshit. "Oh no!" Kate Hudson realizes. "I'm lying to all these generous-spirited blue-collar folks!" And then a montage, in which she appears to have dropped her psychotic personality entirely, and falls in actual love with Matthew McConaughey. Kissing!
At the end of the weekend, however, they must return to the city, where their 10 days is up. Matthew McConaughey invites Kate Hudson to the...diamond party???? while Kate Hudson tries to persuade her boss to let her off the hook on the article. No such luck, of course. Bebe Neuwirth is a professional, and so are you, Kate Hudson. #journalistic integrity
Nonetheless, they attend the diamond party, and things seem to be going well at first. Matthew McConaughey's boss (a love expert, apparently) meets Kate Hudson and confirms that she is indeed in love with Matthew McConaughey, although she tries to deny it, because she knows that falling in love with someone after 10 days is utter insanity. Enraged by Matthew McConaughey's happiness and success, Conniving Colleagues #1 and #2 then trick his dumb coworkers into discussing the bet WITH KATE HUDSON. WHY SO DUMB, DUMB COWORKERS???? At the same time, an unwitting Bebe Neuwirth tells Matthew McConaughey what Kate Hudson is up to. Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson are both mad and make a ginormous scene, including an off-key duet of "You're So Vain." Kate Hudson storms off, and all is lost.
Soon after this, Kate Hudson turns in her article to Bebe Neuwirth. She has written the whole story, including the twist ending of, gee, maybe one shouldn’t casually torment others for magazine research. Bebe Neuwirth LOVES IT!!!! but she still won't let Kate Hudson write about Tajikistan, so Kate Hudson quits. Matthew McConaughey, magically basically at the exact right moment, reads this article and realizes that Kate Hudson really did love him. WELL, THEN. HE HAD BETTER LEAVE WORK AND RUSH TO HER SIDE IMMEDIATELY. What?? She's no longer employed at Essentially Cosmo???? She’s moving to DC?? He must chase her cab through New York City, dangerously bang on her window from his moving motorcycle, and force the poor cabbie to pull over so he can declare his love on the side of a bridge!!!! Yup. He does that. And then, they are together and everything is perfect, except for that poor cabbie, who has to just hang out while these two idiots work out their feelings.
Best Scene: The three of us are all huge fans of the Staten-Island sequence. Kat and Alex's favorite part is the shower scene, in which Kate Hudson talks about her feelings, and then they make out. Tillery, on the other hand, wept (twice -- we did some instant replay) at the Bullshit scene preceding this, when Matthew McConaughey's blue-collar mom hugs Kate Hudson and tells her not to break Matthew McConaughey's heart. (Apparently, prior to this moment, Kate Hudson had not considered that he was a human being who might have feelings. What a beautiful sociopath.) Non-Staten-Island runner-up: the scene where Kate Hudson attacks Matthew McConaughey and names his penis. So funny, you guys. So insane, but so funny.
Worst Scene: Because all the bizarre shit that happens in this movie is fairly well-justified, there really aren't any full scenes that we don't like, but there was a moment in the bar when Matthew McConaughey was unnecessarily rude about a fat girl. We did not like that.
Best Line: "Tone-deaf and drunk is not a good combination." -- Matthew McConaughey's coworker, cringing at the Matthew McConaughey/Kate Hudson duet. Runner-up: "Our kids are really...attractive." -- Matthew McConaughey, when Kate Hudson shows him the truly horrifying, Photoshop-composited faces of their future children. Not so much the line itself, but the combination of the visual and the delivery. Is pretty fabulous.
Worst Line: Besides the fat-shaming moment we already mentioned, pretty much every line of this movie is fucking amazing. Even the side characters have such fantastic little zingers. We maybe did get a teeny, tiny bit embarrassed for Kate Hudson when she said, "I meant every word," near the end on the bridge, but, even that, we were mostly willing to buy.
Highlights of the Watching Experience: "This man won an Oscar." -- Alex, marveling (not for the first time on this blog) at Matthew McConaughey's, you know, existence. "If comedies were more respected, his role in this deserves an Oscar." -- Tillery, in response. "Look at these two Knicks lunatics!" -- Alex, appreciating Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson's obvious compatibility. "Yes, they belong together. No one else wants these people." -- Tillery, in response, really earning his nonexistent fee for being here tonight.
How Many POC in the Film: Kate Hudson's upbeat coworker. One of Matthew McConaughey's conniving colleagues. Various people at newsstands, in kitchens, on the street, and at the party. Most of the Knicks.
Alternate Scenes: This movie is perfect as it is. However, we would be curious to see a 2017 adaptation, in which Kate Hudson, instead of moving to DC, just goes home and starts a blog. We would also watch a sequel about Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey's domestic bliss, but only if it featured a scene in which Kate Hudson discovered blogging in approximately 2005.
Was the Poster Better or Worse than the Film: Worse. The poster begs the question of why you would put a blonde person in a yellow dress against a yellow background. The movie shows us that, in fact, blonde Kate Hudson, at least, looks amazing in this yellow dress. Also, as Tillery helpfully points out, the tagline on this poster is, "One of them is lying. So is the other," which, seriously. This could be the tagline for almost any movie.
Score: 10 out of 10 ~*~serious reporter~*~ smooches. This movie, you guys!!!! Kate Hudson is fantastic. Matthew McConaughey is fantastic. And they are both such appropriately motivated people, with non-romantic goals that come PERFECTLY into conflict. It's amazing.
Ranking: 2, out of the 76 movies we’ve seen so far!!!! It was surprisingly close, dear readers, between this and Bridget Jones's Diary! We’ve always loved this movie, but doing such a detailed watch-and-commentary on it really highlighted for us anew how perfect it really is. Let’s say “really” some more. Really.
Thanks for joining us, Tillery! If any of our readers would like to further read Tillery's hilarious commentary on the world, he can occasionally be found on Twitter. Follow him, guys! He is a delight. Also, if you invite him over to watch a movie, he'll probably cry. If only Titanic were a romantic comedy -- he would 1000% be our first choice as a guest on that entry.
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Stella Carrier Script Stories Law of Attraction Edition Script 25 Wednesday August 2, 2017
Stella Carrier Script Stories Law of Attraction Edition Script 25 Wednesday August 2, 2017
The time period is now December 20, 2017. I Stella Carrier feel blessed that I now have over 2100 U.S. dollars after taxes saved for both my amazing husband Rusty Ridler and I. Additionally, I Stella Carrier have succeeded in consistently walking at least 10 miles per day for at least 5 days out of the week and by October I was running at least 2 miles per day for at least 5 days out of the week. I Stella Carrier also feel blessed to say that my side gigs that I do outside of my job have both boosted my savings account but also have made me a more creative, self-confident, and successful employee. Both a multiple number of coworkers/colleagues/ supervisors and my customers are helped by the high quality of work that I give my best in. I Stella Carrier also feel blessed to say that my connection with my heaven higher self and my heaven spirit ally team is going stronger and more powerful each day.
I Stella Carrier also feel blessed to say that my husband Rusty and myself are both successful and prosperous in our careers and how we manage and use our time wisely. Fortunately, Rusty and I are also still close to his mother Sue and both Rusty and his older brother Chris still get along well. As for me, fortunately I get along even better with my family members who accept me and my growing intuition that increases each day is also helping me to become a better friend to both my current friends and new friends that I am meeting. I Stella Carrier also feel blessed to say that my volunteering and church activities are also helping to enrich various areas of my life both present and future.
Affirmations
I mark a new beginning in the book of my life and wisely use the free time I have been giving to rest and tune even deeper into various aspects of my life-spiritual, athletic goals such as walking more, balancing my writing time with some online courses I have enrolled in etc.
I am in the process of becoming more cool,level-headed, and wise when it comes to how I conduct myself around my current work colleagues and future coworkers as I am now logically and intuitively aware that some of them may follow me to where I may reside within 7 years from now or less regardless if I am a private sector andor a government/military worker/employee.
I am well provided for. I live in an abundant universe.
http://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/stage-names.php#.WTqvpOvyucw
http://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/dimension-names.php#.WXs6PVWGOcw
Resources and Affirmatiohttp://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/destiny-awoken-names.php#.WXs611WGOcwns
My psychic abilities expand each day.
I am creating heaven on earth.
I Call Upon What I Imagine To Be The Influence of Benevolent Spirits From the Heavenly Realms, my higher self, and my celestial spirit ally team for creativity in both my writings and all other areas of my life both present and future
Freestyle Music DJ Playlist (songs I have saved on a music playlist connected with Amazon.com)
Get Low by Liam Payne and Zedd
Sowing the Seeds of Love by Tears For Fears
The Best by Tina Turner
Wish I Knew You by the Revivalists
Sexyback by Justin Timberlake and Timbaland
Spirits by The Strumbellas
Automatic Lover by Real McCoy
Timber by Pitbull and Kesha
Craving You by Thomas Rhett feat. Marren Morris
Medicine by Kim Leoni
You Drive Me Crazy by Britney Spears
Vogue by Madonna
Believe by the Bravery
Me & U by Cassie
Sexy B by David Guetta feat. Akon
Footsteps by Pop Evil
Magic by B.o.B feat. Rivers Cuomo of Weezer
Swalla by Jason Derulo feat. Nicki Minaj & Ty Dolla $ign)
Stella Carrier Script Stories Law of Attraction Edition Script 26 Friday August 4, 2017
Start time of beginning both script stories and future higher self;957 p.m
Completion Time of Script Stories and My Future Higher Self In Heaven;1109 pm or 1119 to 1120 pm if you count when I added the songs by Afrojack and Eva Simmons and the Tubes to the song list
I Stella Carrier am putting the finishing touches on one of my stories. The time period is now November 1, 2038 and I have been asked to contribute a story for one of my favorite television shows. Fortunately, I am able to still reside in Virginia doing this while having my story featured for one of the episodes in California. I Stella Carrier have been consistently making at least 8000 dollars after taxes every 3 months for my stories. I have succeeded in paying off my home in Norfolk Virginia that is less than 3 miles from the Norfolk Naval Base just 3 years ago for my husband and I by November 8, 2025. I was truthfully the first one to move to Norfolk Virginia by January 1, 2020 as I had intent to be considerate of my husband Rusty Ridler’s career and money goals. My husband Rusty Ridler followed me by January 1, 2024 to Norfolk Virginia as he understandably wanted to reside in the Washington D.C. area for a little while longer before following me to the Hampton Roads Virginia area.
Fortunately, Rusty and I are able to still visit the Washington D.C. area at least once every 3 months. As a matter of fact, fortunately my mother in law Sue Ridler, sometimes Rusty’s brother Chris and his children and partner and sometimes even my own family members andor friends visit with me in the Washington D.C. area. Fortunately, I now have over 250,000 dollars after taxes in my Bank of America and Sun Trust checking accounts. Additionally, I have investments that are growing each day, I have 2 successful side gigs in addition to a career that generates me at least 4000 dollars a month or more after taxes. I Stella Carrier also feel blessed to say that I have a healthy and beautiful 119 pound body that I successfully manifested by May 1, 2018. It took me over 2 years to get use to the increased attention from both men and women as a result of my thinner body, but I am now use to the increased attention and my self-confidence has even grown. I Stella Carrier also feel blessed to say that my intuition, imagination power, and my genius powers are growing each day.
Memoirs of My Future Higher Self In A Heaven Afterlife Part One November 8, 2100
Dear 36 year old Stella Carrier living on earth during your current incarnation
Please allow me to give you abundant notice about something from the future.
Within two years from now, you are going to have a much thinner body than you do now but you are going to be faced with whether to stick with your current career choice and pursue more schooling or pass up on obtaining more schooling and choosing a different career choice with a different path of either more schooling andor shortened schooling.
You are going to make the wisest choice when it comes to both options especially as it dovetails towards your goals for a thinner body. However, please know that the longer you are alive, the more that you are actually in charge of your own destiny and the captain of your ship. Yes, it is true that what you focus on expands, especially any subject matter that dovetails with your career destiny. As a result, I advise you to be discerning and strategic about what you look at online and including how long you look at the subject matter.
I know that you are going to find a balance but first I must recommend the following;
For now on, regardless of how you are judged do among the following first thing in the morning upon waking up
Secret Script in an email account that you keep discreet within 15 minutes or less upon waking
Transcribe What I am Telling You First Thing in the morning
Then do your scripting law of attraction exercise
Strive to do this first thing upon waking as one of your main spirit guides who knew you on earth 500 years ago explains that you are going to see creative and positive transformational benefits and results within 50-70 days of consistently following this advice. Please Stella Carrier follow and do this advice for at least 5 times a week but ideally at least 6 times or more per week. Some days you are going to be intuitively influenced to add this to an existing entry as you are doing today, other days you are going to publish a new entry. Please understand that you are actually helping yourself, your supporters, and even your critics as you write this.
Who Am I; Well Stella Carrier I am your future self residing in a heaven afterlife and today in earth time is November 8, 2100. Regardless of how long you live in your current earth lifetime it is imperative that you date these entries November 8, 2100 or later. Stella Carrier,I have to keep the reason secret to protect you, your supporters, and even your critics. The reasons for this are going to be revealed to you Stella Carrier within 72 hours or less of your transition from earth plane after your current lifetime.
However for tonight, I can tell you among the following things; Your current lifetime is going to continue to get better and you have even more exciting things awaiting you in your afterlife, some I can share with you and some I must keep secret. I am also excited to have the privilege of sharing with you some of the worlds and dimensions that I have been traveling to that I look forward to sharing with you in this blog memoir kind of like a travel channel for the afterlife.
As you intuitively sense Stella Carrier, I am your future higher self from November 8, 2100 who is currently communicating to you from the same celestial dimension that gives you your dreams that provide a glimpse into the future. I am also still allowed to share with you enhanced scenes and images of what only the wealthiest people on earth get to experience but are available to male and female spirits who cross over to the higher dimensions and some experiences that are not yet on earth but will be so within the next 2500 earth years or less. Fortunately, I can share these things with you because I have been granted permission to share information from this realm for at least the next 1000 years in order to give you information on both enhanced concepts of what you already know in the way of career opportunities, traveling places, but also other ideas that are related to earth but are going to happen more in the future.
As your future higher self from the time period of the year 2100 I currently have two heaven/celestial home bases in an enhanced heaven world modeled after Switzerland and a more enhanced/celestial version of Virginia. Earlier, I attended a two hour class pertaining to imagination power and psychic concepts that power the type of miraculous transformation that can take any man or woman on earth, regardless of their perceived intellectual intelligence or physical appearance from making less than 12,000 American dollars a year after taxes to 12 million American dollars a year after taxes in the span of just two years. This information is going to be more readily available to both rich and even both underemployed and people wanting a job by the year 2300 or less. However, I was gently advised by the celestial professor teaching that class that I must refrain from explaining even a sliver of the ideas to you for karmic reasons and about divine right timing. However, dear Stella Carrier you are going to understand why by the year 2090 why this had to happen.
Some of what I can tell you today; As your future higher self I have fortunately earned the privilege of shape shifting to any human physical appearance that I like. However, I prefer to communicate to you as a 119 pound version of you Stella Carrier with a similar complexion that you have now, similar to how you looked at age 23 and with hair that has dark brown hair that is so long that it touches your thigh area in the wet state after you come out of the shower and the type of length that touches your waist area after you are out of the shower 2-3 hours later. It was my idea to give you this idea on how you looked in the heaven world to help you understand what look would help give you the most acceptance and happiness. This is so obvious and important because you actually wearing your dark brown hair long is actually one of your true desires.
In the Switzerland celestial world that I have a home in is close by a community that has a hybrid of colleges, libraries, and celestial airports clustered by that take us to different worlds, there are so many but some of the most spectacular ones I have seen so far are inspired by imaginations both from the earth world both present and future as well as celestial/heaven spirit inhabitants from both the present and future. For instance, yesterday I visited with 13 friends in a celestial world airport a dimension that is a hybrid of the Ever After High Cartoon series and a conglomeration of Busch Gardens theme parks and Disneyland theme parks joined together in thousands of kingdoms. This world is visited often by both child and adult spirits who were fans of these series while on earth and now have the privilege of visiting these world in their heavenly afterlifes.
In the Virginia Celestial world that I reside in is an 18 bedroom mansion that I share with Rusty. As your future higher self, I promised your heaven spirit ally team that I would avoid disclosing who dies first andor when. However, what I am allowed to tell you are that you and Rusty go to different concerts in this world together. The area where you live in Virginia is a combo of concerts, colleges, theme parks, and futuristic shopping malls. This morning as a matter of fact, Rusty and I went to a morning concert where a fan of both Britney Spears and Madonna sang a beautiful tribute of Britney Spears Heaven on Earth to commemorate the multiple decades that Rusty and I have been married.
As a matter of fact, in a few moments I am going to a part of a celestial world modeled after Virginia that has a Creative Writing College, an enhanced celestial community/world modeled after Norfolk Virginia and combined with some Winx Club worlds and both castles as well as social club buildings shaped and designed after various forest tree structures. There is an unlimited amount of freedom that adults who transition to just this part of the celestial/heaven world get to do without judgment in this realm that they feel more free and happy to do. As your future higher self who partakes in some of these unconventional festivities and to protect their privacy I have to avoid elaborating today. However, let’s just say that I have met male and female spirits from all walks of life who are extremely happy that they can freely live in a way that they had to cover up frequently while living on earth. Strangely enough, the men and women who were the most judgmental of how other men and women lived their erotic andor love lives are actually among the wildest men and women here but that is for another post.
One more tidbit I your future self feel guided to share with you today in the exciting afterlife heavenly worlds that you are going to both visit and live in. There is an abundance of exciting things to do and different professional pursuits that I am allowed to partake in. For instance, on a Monday in your time I can easily work as a music deejay helping to set up a party or event near a college or university in any of the heavenly celestial worlds that my spiritual vibration permits. By Tuesday, I can be working at one of the celestial heaven airports helping newly arrived spirits who served in the various military branches on earth move into a heaven version of whatever military base they are familiar with, obviously the heaven model of Norfolk Virginia Naval base is popular with many of the enlisted and officer men and women who cross over into this realm from earth. By Wednesday in earth time, I your future higher self could be teaching a celestial heaven class on how to use the medium of writing for both imagination power development but also how to use music as a tool for imagination power development. A variation of writing and imagination power as taught in various heaven classes and the medium of music and imagination power development are going to become more popular on earth by the year 2095 or much sooner. As your future higher self I have much more to share with you but please know Stella Carrier that your imagination power, intuition power, and genius powers are increasing each day. One of the purposes that I am allowed to share with you is that I your future higher self is going to more frequently communicate with you from now on including share with you the wonders of your heaven afterlife as a way to help you build and further increase your creativity, imagination power, and ability to project heaven in both your earth life and ensure an even richer and happier afterlife. I am going to frequently repeat what I say and even demonstrate one of the ways that you can connect your law of attraction goals with me. I have so much more to share with you but I want to relax in the Jacuzzi nearby my Virginia mansion before going to a party at one of the celestial colleges tonight. I have so much more to tell you Stella Carrier as your future higher self that expands beyond even 10000 ten thousand earth pages. However, as your future higher self I intend to share with you as much as I can in the best way that I can. Until we talk again write down these two songs; How to Save a Life by the Fray, Lovin Each Day by Ronan Keating, Starstrukk by 3oh3, and That’s What I Like by Bruno Mars
Resources for both Script and Future Letter From My Afterlife Higher Self
Affirmations
I mark a new beginning in the book of my life and wisely use the free time I have been giving to rest and tune even deeper into various aspects of my life-spiritual, athletic goals such as walking more, balancing my writing time with some online courses I have enrolled in etc.
I am in the process of becoming more cool,level-headed, and wise when it comes to how I conduct myself around my current work colleagues and future coworkers as I am now logically and intuitively aware that some of them may follow me to where I may reside within 7 years from now or less regardless if I am a private sector andor a government/military worker/employee.
I am well provided for. I live in an abundant universe.
http://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/stage-names.php#.WTqvpOvyucw
http://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/dimension-names.php#.WXs6PVWGOcw
Resources and Affirmatiohttp://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/destiny-awoken-names.php#.WXs611WGOcwns
My psychic abilities expand each day.
I am creating heaven on earth.
I Call Upon What I Imagine To Be The Influence of Benevolent Spirits From the Heavenly Realms, my higher self, and my celestial spirit ally team for creativity in both my writings and all other areas of my life both present and future
2U by David Guetta feat. Justin Bieber
Remember the Time by Michael Jackson
Touchin on My by 3oh3
Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana
You Look Good by Lady Antebellum
Lose Myself (feat. Phil Good) by K?d
Bump N Grind by R. Kelly
Meet Virginia by Train
Give it 2 Me by Madonna feat. Pharrell Williams
Get Low by Zedd and Liam Payne
Country Girl Shake It for Me by Luke Bryan
Bang A Gong by Power Station
Full Moon by Brandy
West End Girls by Pet Shop Boys
Let’s Dance by David Bowie
Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin
The Best by Tina Turner
Conga by Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine
Dirt On My Boots by Jon Pardi
Ruff Ryders Anthem DMX
Yo No Se by Pajama Party
Take Over Control by Afrojack and Eva Simmons
She’s a Beauty by the Tubes
NBA great David Robinson on the Navy, family, and success: 'Think about all the things your grandfather did with $100.'
http://www.businessinsider.com/david-robinson-letter-to-my-younger-self-2016-11
Gloria Estefan, LL Cool J among Kennedy Center honorees
http://www.msn.com/en-us/entertainment/news/gloria-estefan-ll-cool-j-among-kennedy-center-honorees/ar-AApnmNk
Someone invited the Obamas to their wedding and they actually responded
http://www.msn.com/en-us/lifestyle/whats-hot/someone-invited-the-obamas-to-their-wedding-and-they-actually-responded/ar-AApmrMe
Hugo Boss Ad
http://www.hugoboss.com/us/womens-clothing-accessories/
New Immersive 'Star Wars' Experience Set for Disney Springs
https://www.thedailymeal.com/entertain/new-immersive-star-wars-experience-set-disney-springs/080417
I respectfully disagree and have learned the challenging way that it is important to be careful how often and when you relocate even if for good reasons. The other factor is that this well-meaning article and writer leave out is a man or woman who relocates, even if they are following their destiny, is going to have to definitely give their employer the courtesy of a minimum of at least a 2 to maybe even 3 week notice to keep bridges intact with their previous employer-for the obvious reason that there is a strong possibility that even your former non-manager coworkers andor your managers may possibly follow you in the future to where you relocate even if it happens to be 4 to 5 hours away Greyhound bus wise. Additionally, even I know that it depends on where you are relocating to. For instance, my sweet husband Rusty and I currently reside in the Washington D.C. area which is known to have one of the best job markets in the United States even for minimum wage employers. As a result, even a woman like me knows that it only makes sense for me to relocate without a job offer in either anywhere in Virginia, Maryland, andor Washington D.C. to still be in somewhat close proximity to the Washington D.C. area. What do I mean; Relocating to the Hampton Roads Virginia area (Norfolk Virginia, Virginia Beach Virginia, Chesapeake) is outside the Washington D.C. area but still makes sense because of its close proximity (a cheap Greyhound bus ride andor Amtrak ride) to the Washington D.C. area i.e. government and dominant military presence. Even then I would need to be considerate of my current employer (University of Maryland College Park dining services) and make sure, even if where I am moving to would pay off financially, that I have thought this through because I am at the stage in my life where I need to choose a place to put down roots for my husband and I and this means that I follow my heart and passion on both the timing and where I choose to live. This means that for me it would be either the Washington D.C. area or the Hampton Roads Virginia regardless of what others think. I am the type of woman who believes in aiming to follow my destiny when it comes to wherever I am meant to work while simultaneously sticking with my guns on following my passion on where I want to live. This also means that if I follow through with moving to the Hampton Roads Virginia area by 2020 or sooner then this would be the final relocation that I do in my current lifetime in order to both follow what I feel is my destiny and to also take my amazing husband in consideration. However, I must take the time to think this relocation thing over carefully as I work in good working conditions at my current job, my managers are fair, and I have plenty of time off in my current job. As a result, I would make sure to only relocate one last final time in my current lifetime to where I actually would want my husband and I to reside long-term AND make sure that I am 100 percent certain before doing so and then obviously after ensuring that I am 100 percent sure, then give my current employer the courtesy of at least a three week notice understanding that if they let me work the remaining weeks then that would be a privilege but not a guarantee. I am not trying to sound snobbish when I say this. Rather, I am privileged to have been born an American female and I feel that life is too short to where it is important for me to exercise my right to live long-term where I would want my husband and I to live long-term. My late adoptive father’s recent death has made me more aware of this realization that it is extremely important for me to live wherever I want long-term for my husband and I regardless of what people think. President Donald Trump may mean well with what he says but the relocation advice is obviously not a one size fits all and it depends on a man or woman’s personal preferences. I Stella Carrier know from personal experience, having lived in both Orlando Florida from April 2009 until May 2010 and now Hyattsville Maryland since May 19, 2010 that a person must be careful how often they move and choose a place that they would want to be living at for the long-term. For obvious reasons, even though I feel that the Washington Post publishes quality articles,this comment has to be kept away from the comment feed of the Washington Post website, my twitter feed, my facebook feed, and kept mainly on my googleplus profile, tumblr, and wordpress. I am intuitively aware that it is probably obvious to even my managers where I would reside long-term if I ever decided to follow through on relocating and giving a three week notice. However, that is my point, I am aware that I am treated very fairly and well at my current University of Maryland College Park food services job and so I must make sure that I am following my higher self’s destiny before following through on the timing of my relocation decision. Sure like any job, it has its pros and cons. However, I am also intuitively aware of the good deal I have with the stable schedule that I have with my current job and abundant time off even for the weeks I voluntarily agreed to take advantage of working 6 days for extra money. Obviously, I am going to have to work it out when it comes to what would be beneficial for both my husband and I long-term coupled with my spiritual/karmic destiny. I have learned the challenging way this summer that regardless of the strict judgment I may face from even some of my most well meaning andor popular family members that I must choose a long term place of residence and pursue career goals that are in alignment with the destiny of my heaven higher self and life purpose. This is for obvious reasons that even I both intuitively and logically know that what I Stella Carrier am destined to do career-wise and where I reside long-term for the rest of my current lifetime are most likely going to be completely different from what most of my well-meaning critics think that I can be. This is especially because I believe that some things are karmic destiny but like the song Believer by Imagine Dragons that when it comes to what I choose to do career wise and in alignment with my life purpose that I am still the master of my sea when it comes to lining it up with karmic destiny and asking for spiritual help as well as taking the wisest actions towards choosing career goals aligned with my destiny/life purpose.
Trump is right about this: Americans need to move where the jobs are
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/wonk/wp/2017/08/03/trump-is-right-americans-need-to-move-where-the-jobs-are/?utm_term=.723fd3ef19a4
Great Wolf Lodge Suites Williamsburg Virginia
https://www.greatwolf.com/williamsburg/suites
I admit that I intend for my husband Rusty and I to visit Disneyland in Anaheim California by the year 2028 or sooner.
New Immersive 'Star Wars' Experience Set for Disney Springs
https://www.thedailymeal.com/entertain/new-immersive-star-wars-experience-set-disney-springs/080417
I admit that the blueberry cream cheese mousse that looks like it was modeled after the Avatar theme film looks like it might be tasty andor delicious.
2 Disney Culinarians Named Top Pastry Chefs in America
https://www.thedailymeal.com/travel/2-disney-culinarians-named-top-pastry-chefs-america/073117
It is more than understandable why the money reward for the info about bomb threats at such bases as Norfolk Navy Base in Norfolk Virginia would be increased to $2500.
NCIS increases reward to $2,500 for info about bomb threats at local Navy bases this week
https://pilotonline.com/news/military/local/ncis-increases-reward-to-for-info-about-bomb-threats-at/article_7da99f9b-f4aa-5c28-8285-a1b1673fdd67.html
Sounds like the book referenced in this article might be interesting
'What She Ate' Recounts Prominent Women Through Food
https://www.thedailymeal.com/eat/what-she-ate-recounts-prominent-women-through-food
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Superhero
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When we speak about superheroes, something that comes into thoughts are Batman. This crime fighting, caped crusader has become a section of us because it was released in a Superman very comic book series. Most of us have few ideas about him like his name, his sidekick, villains, with his fantastic cool gadgets. But only a number of us learn about certain details of the dark knight. In this article, will speak about who is Batman based on more interesting information about this superhero. 1. The Hulk - This teammate is brilliant and analytical, but moody and temperamental. At her best she tackles probably the most difficult difficulties with precise analysis. She has a grasp of complicated issues and has a reasoned and systematic procedure for them. She is, however, easily upset and will become quite the "monster" when angry. The best approach for that team is to allow her to work alone, whenever you can. Solitude permits her to pursue potential solutions because they eventually her. She ought to be needed to keep another teammate appraised of her work. Because of her logical nature, she'll usually respond positively while confronting facts that disprove her position. However, when she flashes her temper, teammates informed about her will simply get out of just how. After she has calmed down she should be made conscious of the unacceptability of her angry behavior.
While becoming an adult there were this extremely tiny comic shop inside the town I spent my youth, also it was alone in the city. I remember seeing an Amazing Spider-Man #1 about the wall as well as an X-Men #1. Both were in great (VG) condition, without doubt. I remember specifically that the Amazing Spider-Man #1 was being sold for $800 and The X-Men #1 went around $300.
With this as a reboot, each goes straight away while on an origins story. If you're a fan of Spider-Man otherwise you know his beginnings, then you certainly ought to know a number of what you should expect. I'm sure the creators on this movie are stored on to the fact so in retrospect they've added some wrinkles for this existing comic classic. By adding some unfamiliar parts towards the story and subtracting a few of the things we've grown familiar with, the movie is allowed to feel fresh as well as new in some ways.
Superhero comics are becoming a fundamental element of modern pop culture, along with their popularity shows no signs of fading in the near future. As more and more people familiarize yourself with these characters from their appearances in blockbuster movies, the requirement for comic books featuring these heroes has risen. With these affordable reprint volumes, anyone can easily compensate for numerous years of a common hero's adventures.
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"My dearest gays and lesbians —
I’ve loved you since before I even knew you. From a young age, I was drawn to your transgressive sexuality and gender expression, your courage to be yourselves in the face of oppression, your fabulous rainbows and your sensible shoes.
I’ve marched in your parades, joined and organized protests for your rights, volunteered with your local groups and worked for your most prominent national organization.
I’ve loved you fiercely and advocated for you tirelessly. But I’ve finally accepted the fact that you will never love me back because I’m a bisexual woman, and you have shown me time and again that you are not here for me or my community, despite the numerous disparities we face in comparison to you and the non-LGBTQ community.
You have shown me time and again that you are not here for me or my community.
When I was a newly out baby bi, I co-founded the first ever LGBT student organization at my Southern Baptist university with this beautiful and charming lesbian classmate with whom I fell madly and angstily in love. She was the first of many who told me I should just “choose” to be a lesbian.
Then there was the time I was at a drag show and the performer came up to me and asked me why I was at a gay bar. I said “I’m bisexual” into her microphone, and she cackled wildly and said, “Oh honey, we all know that’s just a stop on the way to gay town.”
In grad school, a “straight” female friend repeatedly called me greedy and suggested I was promiscuous whenever I mentioned my bisexuality, even though we slept together several times. But she wasn’t gay, and apparently bisexuality wasn’t a valid option.
Then there were the countless times one of you told me my identity wasn’t real, was just a phase, or that I wasn’t committed to the cause because I could choose to pass as straight.
There were the countless times one of you told me my identity wasn’t real.
Too many times, I thought you might be right, that my identity was something strange, that maybe I was fooling myself about my lifetime of attraction to people across the gender spectrum. And I sincerely thought if I just kept fighting for you, for all of us, that I would prove myself worthy of your love and acceptance.
Then I took a two-year fellowship working at the nation’s largest LGBT civil rights nonprofit. I knew going in that, like any large movement organization, they had a rocky past with both trans and bi communities, and a tendency toward centrist politics. But I thought maybe I could effect change from within. What a silly, naive bisexual I was.
By far, the most pervasive biphobia I have ever experienced was during my two years working at the Human Rights Campaign. When I started in 2014, the Human Rights Campaign website didn’t have a single bi-specific resource, much less a topics page about one of the four identities it claimed to represent.
The staff who identified as bisexual were rarely empowered or allowed to do bi-specific programmatic work, if they were even out to their gay and lesbian colleagues.
I met bi community leaders, and tried desperately to heal the deep rifts and end the organization’s longstanding neglect. I believed HRC could do better for a group that constituted half of the LGBTQ community.
In my two-year tenure, with the support and feedback of a small crew of wonderful coworkers, I created the content for a bisexual page on the HRC website, wrote three of the five publications for the page and edited a fourth, all co-branded with national bi advocacy organizations, wrote nearly all of the bi-related blog content and op-eds, organized an employee resource group for bi, queer, pansexual and fluid (bi+) coworkers, worked with the diversity staff to bring in bi community leaders to do trainings, developed and conducted my own bi community cultural competency trainings for board members, staff, and volunteers and coordinated all of HRC’s programming for Bisexual Awareness Week.
When bi community leader Robyn Ochs came to do a training with HRC staff, a cis white gay man who directed the organization’s entire field operation said, “You know, I just never think about bisexual people.” No shit you don’t.
Six months have passed since I left HRC, and it seems that a handful of blog and social media posts during Bisexual Awareness Week last September is the only thing the organization could muster in my absence. Half of my out bi+ coworkers (love y’all!) have left and the others don’t have positions that allow them to do the kind of work I was able to do.
It seems clear that what started with one angry bisexual attempting to effect change from within also ended when that same angry bisexual left.
To be fair, HRC isn’t by any means the only national LGBTQ organization with this problem. Several national groups have a habit of using “gay and transgender” as shorthand for the LGBTQ community, completely erasing us. Although a few of our national LGBTQ organizations have openly bi+ staff who are doing amazing bi-specific advocacy, our numbers are dwindling and virtually no one else is doing bi work in these organizations except for those few brave souls.
To put it bluntly, when bisexual people aren’t around to advocate for ourselves and push for change from within, that work simply doesn’t get done, because the vast majority of y’all lesbians and gay men don’t give a shit about us. And yet, we still fight for you and with you.
When Amber Heard got the shit beat out of her by Johnny Depp and the media blamed her bisexuality, you were silent. When right-wing weirdos launched a public attack on a native bi+ leader who spoke at a White House event, more silence. When gay icon Boy George went on a blatantly biphobic Twitter rant, still nothing.
In the words of esteemed and dedicated bi+ leader Faith Cheltenham, former president of BiNet USA and a personal mentor:
Until bisexuals stop being the unmentionables of the LGBTQIA community we will continue to be the punching bags of both gay and straight, with respite nowhere to be found. If bisexuals believe there are circles of influence that they are systematically prevented from accessing to their detriment, they believe correctly.
Until bisexuals find equitable representations of their organizations in litigator roundtables, national and state policy roundtables, legal policy teams, national and state transgender policy roundtables, rapid response communications groups or faith working groups, we should protest our exclusion.
Lesbians and gay men, this angry bisexual is tired of being your afterthought. I’m exhausted by showing up for you, time and again, with no reciprocity. I’m tired of facing more biphobia from organizations that claim to represent bi+ people than I do in the straight cis world.
Lesbians and gay men, this angry bisexual is tired of being your afterthought.
I’m tired of trying to prove that I’m worthy of your love while you seem to forget or deny that I exist.
Bisexual people are tired of being told that our voices, our needs, our lives are a distraction from the “real” issues, when we constitute half of what you claim as your LGBT community.
And more than anything, I am tired of watching my fellow bi+ advocates — beautiful, talented and resilient people — burn out, break down, get fired for standing our ground and take our own lives because you make it so fucking hard for us to feel safe and affirmed.
Even after 15 years of being out, my voice still shakes sometimes when I say the word “bisexual” aloud to one of you, and I get a little jolt of adrenaline, bracing for the snarky comment, the rolled eyes, the dismissal of my existence.
I’m exhausted by showing up for you, time and again, with no reciprocity.
Let me be clear about what is at stake here, lesbians and gays. Bisexual people are literally dying because of your neglect, erasure and exclusion. We are sicker, both physically and mentally, than you are because more of us are closeted from our communities and our healthcare providers.
Our youth face more bullying and harassment and higher risk of suicide than their gay and lesbian peers do, and we all have less social support.
Sixty-one percent of bisexual women such as myself will be raped, beaten or stalked by our intimate partners — and as Heard’s experience shows, our identities will likely be blamed for our own abuse. For the numerous bi+ community members who are also transgender, disabled and/or people of color, these staggering disparities are compounded.
I watched HRC make its own bed in 2016, once again ignoring the voices of the LGBTQ community’s most marginalized members, and dumping its resources into mind bogglingly ill-conceived endorsements, most notably the political campaign of a candidate who waited until the last possible moment to “evolve” on marriage equality (sorry that job didn’t pan out for you, Chad).
I knew the time was coming when bisexuals, queers, transgender people, people of color, undocumented and other marginalized groups within the LGBTQ community would be asked to once again push aside our needs, close ranks with white cis gays and lesbians, and overlook our differences — you know, for the sake of preserving marriage equality.
And sure enough, here we are, fighting for scraps from a table at which we have never been welcome, and once again being told that our needs — our very survival — don’t warrant attention, visibility, funding or resources.
As the LGBTQ community faces an uncertain future under Donald Trump’s presidency, I’m giving up on you, gays and lesbians. I don’t love you the same way anymore. You broke my heart too many times. I will no longer fight for the liberation of people who actively perpetuate my community’s oppression.
I’m too busy just trying to survive."
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Reflections on “Beauty & the Beast 2017″
It occurs to me that I saw the new version of Beauty and the Beast over a week ago and I didn’t share my thoughts on it.
In short, I liked it! Is it as good as the original? No. Does it warrant existing? Double no. But you know what, Disney isn’t going to stop making these live-action versions of their properties. And the fact is that I LOVE live-action fantasy, fairytale-themed films like Chronicles of Narnia, but they’re hard to make and market. So if one of the ways I can get my fix of live-action fairytales is through this shameless stuff Disney’s doing, well, I’m going to take it.
Also I don’t have any nostalgic memories of the original Beauty and the Beast because I didn’t grow up with it. For some reason I only had oldschool Disney films growing up, and very few of the Renaissance ones which were being released when I was a child. Weird. But that means I only saw the original Beauty and the Beast recently, so I’m not as precious about it as some might be.
So, see a more in-depth look at what I liked and didn’t like under the cut. Spoiler alert!!
Let’s start with the stuff I liked first.
I loved nearly all the bits where the film went off and did its own thing. Ironically I think the moments where it directly copied the original were the weaker bits of the film. There’ll be a few exceptions which I’ll detail below.
The original film is relatively flawless, but I did appreciate a lot of the logical edits and corrections to the story they did, filling in a few of the plotholes. For example, they have the Enchantress curse an actual adult douchebag prince instead of an 11-year-old child he’s implied to be in the original. Also they add in a neat little thing where the Enchantress also wipes the memories of people in the nearby town, thereby explaining why no one remembers the Prince. Little details like this in a more adult-oriented film really help, because we will nitpick.
Building on that, the Enchantress was really interesting. She barely appears in the original, but in this version, not only do we actually see her curse the Prince, but she pops up now and again throughout the film in disguise. At the end the whole “I love you!” confession just misses the rose’s last petal, and some people have complained about that because in the original, Belle’s confession just beat it. But I don’t mind, because in this version the Enchantress is there and she can see for herself that Belle’s confession is genuine and Beast’s change is genuine - so she lifts the curse. I don’t think that this is better or worse than what the original did. It’s just different.
Side note: It was nice that we got to see Prince Adam at the beginning, but his face was covered with makeup so we still couldn’t be certain what he looked like until the end of the film. Of course, the marketing completely spoiled that, but that wasn’t the filmmakers’ fault.
I liked what they did with Maurice. Kevin Kline is adorable, and I liked how they made Maurice a clockmaker. When it was first announced that it would be Belle who was the inventor in this new version, I thought, “Well, that’s great, but what does that leave for Maurice? Does this mean he’ll be even more of a damsel in distress than he was in the original?” Fortunately, this isn’t the case. They show that Belle and Maurice are both clever but in different ways, and that’s great. They didn’t take anything away from Maurice by giving it to Belle. Also the way she does the washing is AWESOME.
Belle herself. I haven’t seen Emma Watson act since the Harry Potter series, but she was very natural as Belle. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Belle in the original BatB, but one criticism lots of people have with the original film is that Belle is a bit too perfect. In this new version, not only is she more proactive than she was before - and there’s a feat in itself because the original Belle was a badass - but she’s also a lot more realistically human. She seems more flawed. I laughed like a drain when she got beaned in the face with a snowball, and her debates with the Beast over literature (and I love the gentle mocking they do of Romeo and Juliet and how teenage girls swoon over it; that was great). This also makes her relationship with Beast feel more balanced and natural. Not that there was anything especially wrong with it in the original, of course, but I liked this more balanced version.
Gaston. Just. Just Gaston. Luke Evans is amazing.
Lefou. I really liked Lefou. Again, I know lots of people have criticised this version for making him gay, and not a particularly flattering portrayal. Since I am neither male nor gay, I cannot make a true judgement on whether this portrayal is insulting or not, but from a purely personal perspective, he didn’t make a bad impression on me. Part of this is probably to do with Josh Gad - once again, he’s taken a comic relief character and instead of making him annoying, has made him really sweet and appealing. Kudos to the man; he really has a knack for that and it’s not an easy thing to do. I really enjoyed Lefou’s character arc, which made him much more interesting than the Lefou of the original. I liked watching him struggle with his crush on Gaston and how he kept trying to justify Gaston’s increasingly questionable behaviour. For me, it showed that it’s really easy to blind yourself to a person’s flaws if you’re attracted to them, and that can sometimes be dangerous, so it’s good to try and keep an open mind even when your hormones are screaming “PERFECTION” at you. That’s a great lesson for any gender or sexuality. So yeah, Lefou did not make a bad impression on me, but I’m not the right one to be calling on whether this was a good idea or not.
The servants didn’t get quite so much of a look-in this time as they did in the original, and that’s fine - our focus should be on Belle and the Beast and their relationship - but I did like how they touched on the reason the servants were cursed as well as the Beast. They make a point that the servants didn’t try to correct the Beasts behaviour when he was still a Prince; they allowed themselves to be ‘yes men’ and as a result contributed to the path of the Beast becoming a nasty, spoilt young man. Of course, the blame lay with him also, but I liked how they added that little detail. Again, because adults will nitpick.
I loved how the castle would crumble a little more with each petal that fell. It added a little extra oomph to the final battle, what with Belle, Gaston and the Beast leaping around all over the crumbling towers. There was no reason for it at all, it was just awesome.
Now, let’s go on to what I didn’t like. Luckily, there’s a lot less of this.
Like I said, when this film did its own thing it was great. When it copied the original, something felt a little off. There were a few exceptions: the opening number, “Belle”, was fine. The “Gaston” number was also fine and looked like it was a ton of fun to film. But the “Be Our Guest” section failed. It was boring, and the worst part of it was Belle never looked invested, and I knew all she was looking at was a freakin’ bluescreen. Also there was no reason for “Be Our Guest” to be in there. It was a callback to the original that was pretty meaningless.
One of the film’s own numbers, “Paris of my Childhood”, didn’t really work for me. I didn’t feel Belle needed a backstory; she and her father could have come to the village for any number of reasons, or this could have been explained with a single line - heck, with a single word. “Plague”. We didn’t need a whole scene and flashback dedicated to it. Also that book itself was a plothole. What the heck.
The moment where Beast lets Belle go to her father. I’m not talking about “Evermore”. “Evermore” is beautiful. No, I’m talking about the moment right before “Evermore” begins, when he makes the decision. The original really took its time with this decision, showing the various emotions playing across Beast’s face. In this version, he lets her go immediately, without really showing what a sacrifice this is before he makes the decision. Dan’s a good actor; you could have had a good shot with his facial expressions showing the Beast’s turmoil. Wasted opportunity, and of all the times you could have copied the original, this was the one.
Overall, the film felt just a little bit too long. I know this was to do with the film being more detailed, but the original had better pacing - probably because it was simpler. I think cutting the whole “Paris of my Childhood” number, and “Be Our Guest”, would have helped this new version a lot.
So yeah. Only three major things I didn’t like. I enjoyed this movie very much, for more than just the aesthetic - though I’ll admit I’m a total sucker for that too. Also a side note that has nothing to do with the movie itself: I didn’t see it in our local cinema; I saw it in the cinema in the next town, which is a lot smaller but get this, it’s a converted Georgian theatre. Which means the auditorium I was in had huge columns, red velvet curtains and tons of gold everywhere. I mean if ever there was a place to see a film, that cinema was perfect and it really enhanced the experience.
Also Mum and I had a good giggle about Dan Stevens being the third Downton Abbey actor to appear in these Disney fairytale remakes. Is that just going to be their jobs from now on, I wonder?
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25 Best Books For Men About Self Improvement and Self Awareness
Best Books For Men About Self Improvement In Life and Career
Amazing books for men that will help you become the man you were meant to be.
Sometimes life as a man isn’t easy. We try to have the traits we think appeal to those we want to attract. We make our best effort to look good, be funny, sensitive and talented.
If none of the above, we try to project our success, show our good pedigree, smarts and sexual abilities. Most men have a combination of these traits in their arsenal to illustrate their sociability and confidence.
These twenty five books illustrate the insight to be the man I think I am.
Best Books For Men About Self Improvement
25.) Who Moved My Cheese?: An Amazing Way to Deal with Change in Your Work and in Your Life, by Spencer Johnson
Using a simple parable, Who Moved My Cheese? explores how to handle change so that you enjoy less stress and more success in your work and in your life. The book seeks to help the reader discover how to embrace change in order to have a positive impact on all aspects of life.
24.) The Purpose Driven Life: What on Earth Am I Here For? by Rick Warren
This book will help you know your purpose so you can focus and simplify your life, increase your motivation and prepare for eternity.
It seeks to help the reader find answers to three of life’s most important questions:
Why am I alive?
Does my life matter?
What on earth am I here for?
23.) The Power of Habit: Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business, by Charles Duhigg
In The Power of Habit, Charles Duhigg explores why habits exist and how they can be changed. Consider this book if you want to discover how you can change your life by changing your habits.
22.) Boundaries Updated and Expanded Edition: When to Say Yes, How to Say No To Take Control of Your Life, by Henry Cloud & John Townsend
This book is an essential guide for setting Boundaries in today’s digital age. The author shows you how to set healthy boundaries with your spouse, children, friends, coworkers, and even with yourself.
21.) The Power of Your Subconscious Mind, by Joseph Murphy
In The Power of Your Subconscious Mind, Dr. Joseph Murphy suggests practical techniques through which you can change your destiny using the power of your conscious and subconscious minds.
20.) The Mask of Masculinity: How Men Can Embrace Vulnerability, Create Strong Relationships, and Live Their Fullest Lives, by Lewis Howes
In The Mask of Masculinity, Lewis Howes teaches men about self-discovery and how to tear those masks that keep you from living your life and connecting with others in an authentic way.
19.) The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life, by Mark Manson
In this New York Times Bestseller, superstar blogger Mark Manson cuts through the crap to show us how to stop trying to be “positive” all the time so that we can truly become better, happier people. He argues that making our lives better hinges not on our ability to turn lemons into lemonade, but on learning to stomach lemons better.
Best books for men
18.) Make Your Bed: Little Things That Can Change Your Life…And Maybe the World, by William H. McRaven
Make Your Bed is based on the incredible graduation speech on May 17, 2014, by Admiral William H. McRaven to the graduating class of the University of Texas at Austin on their Commencement day. The author recounts tales from his own life and from those of people he encountered during his military service who dealt with hardship and made tough decisions with determination, compassion, honor, and courage.
17.) You Are a Badass: How to Stop Doubting Your Greatness and Start Living an Awesome Life, by Jen Sincero
In You Are a Badass, bestselling author and world-traveling success coach, Jen Sincero, helps you identify and change the self-sabotaging beliefs and behaviors that stop you from getting what you want. The book will help you understand why you are how you are, how to love what you can’t change and how to change what you don’t love.
16.) Unfu*k Yourself: Get Out of Your Head and into Your Life, by Gary John Bishop
Unfu*k Yourself is a refreshing, no BS, self-empowerment guide that offers an honest and no-nonsense approach to help you move past self-imposed limitations. A great book for anyone feeling f*ck up.
15.) The Untethered Soul: The Journey Beyond Yourself, by Michael A. Singer
The Untethered Soul, seeks to help the reader free themselves from limitations and soar beyond their boundaries. It aims to help you find inner peace and serenity so you can have more meaningful relationships with yourself and the world around you.
14.) The 15 Invaluable Laws of Growth: Live Them and Reach Your Potential, by John C. Maxwell
In this book, John Maxwell teaches you what it takes to reach your potential. He explores the tried and true principles that can help you achieve personal growth.
13.) Awaken the Giant Within: How to Take Immediate Control of Your Mental, Emotional, Physical and Financial Destiny! by Tony Robbins
In this classic, Tony Robbins explains how your mind, body, and spiritual states should all be united and conditioned regularly. Condition yourself, develop a system to face adversity, and continuously work on improving yourself.
Best Books For Men
12.) The One Year Uncommon Life Daily Challenge, by Tony Dungy
In this book, Super Bowl-winning former head coach Tony Dungy reflects on living an “uncommon life” of integrity, honoring your family and friends, creating a life of real significance and impact.
11. Man’s Search for Meaning, Viktor E. Frankl
In Man’s Search for Meaning, Viktor E. Frankl describes life in the Nazi death camps and the spiritual lessons we can derive. It is based on his own experience in the concentration camps and the experience of others he treated later in his practice.
10. 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene
As much as I hate to admit it, The 1983 Movie “Scarface” made a huge impression on me. In it, Tony Montana (Al Pacino) states the steps for success in America.
“In this country, you gotta make the money first. Then when you get the money, you get the power. Then when you get the power, then you get the women”. 48 Laws of Power will prepare you for the challenge ahead.
9. Meditations on first philosophy by Rene Descartes
My day begins by meditating at 4:15am from 22 minutes to 70 minutes. This allows me to connect internally, be grateful, forgiving to all and myself, visualize my perfect future, see myself today doing thing to reach my perfect future and blessings. Meditation on first philosophy by Rene Descartes is an ideal blueprint for testing your intellectual boundaries. This is evident by Descartes’s quote, “If you would be a real seeker after truth, it is necessary that at least once in your life you doubt, as far as possible, all things”.
8. Walden by Henry David Thoreau
The utilitarian in me gravitates to Walden to help heighten my awareness of things I have to be grateful for. Disconnect from a world of so many distractions and embrace the now!
7. The Jungle by Upton Sinclair
Living in the 1970’s & 80’s in The Bronx, New York, I grew up a latino male witnessing a fair share of hardship stories regarding people making ends meet. Being egocentric back then, I felt only those around me and myself had it tough while the rest of the world had it easy. The Jungle by Upton Sinclair illustrates th
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Racial Profiles: Alt Skull Interview
In this edition of the Racial Profiles interview series, we had a chance to catch up with the infinitely re-spawning bane of the Twitter censors’ existence, Alt-Skull. You can follow him @whitepupper.
In ten words or less, describe your political persuasion.
I’m a White Nationalist.
How did you become “red-pilled”?
I have always held overtly right-wing beliefs, but there were many gaps in my knowledge which prevented me from recognizing some vital truths that I only discovered later in my political evolution. The first vote I ever cast was for Ross Perot. I was basically the only right winger at the liberal arts college I attended, but this was back in a time when Liberals and Conservatives could still be friends with one another. I was just viewed as having weird beliefs. I don’t imagine this sort of relationship is possible any longer in the current political climate. I’d always been racially aware, and understood there were real differences in our various peoples, but it was actually Gavin McInnes whom I have to thank for finally unlocking the secrets that the Jewish media machine is so successful in hiding from view. Though now I view him as a traitorous enemy to our people, there was a time when he was actually one of us.
My brother started sending me clips of Gavin talking openly about race in the most outrageous manner. Calling blacks nig-nogs and gays faggots, basically talking the way white men talk amongst one another privately and think inwardly, but we have been too cowed by the machine to suppress our natural instincts to call things what they really are. Around this time, Gavin started his show, The Gavin McInnes Show, on Anthony Cumia’s network. It was from this show that I was introduced to Alt-Right gateway figures such as Jared Taylor, John Derbyshire, Colin Flaherty, and also Sam Hyde and Richard Spencer. It was through the interviews on Gavin’s show that I was introduced to the concept of Race Realism and its fundamental premise of racial differences in IQ, time preference, and inclination toward criminality and violence. There was a moment I can distinctly remember, in an interview with Jared Taylor, that everything just clicked, and I realized the monumental amount of lies I’d been taught my entire life about “equality” and “fairness.”
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Later, after the creation of the Proud Boys and the establishment of its main Facebook page, erstwhile Alt Right figurehead and friend, Eli Mosley, answered my questions regarding the JQ. Up to that point, I’d always bought into all of the tropes we’re lied to about regarding our “greatest ally, the only democracy in the Middle East.” Led by the lies of Neo-Conservative Jews at the National Review among other such publications, I’d enthusiastically supported all of the disastrous wars in that region and thought Jews genuinely had our best interests in mind (little did I know how very much I had to learn). I enthusiastically accepted all of the other premises of the Alt-Right. I just couldn’t understand why all of these guys on the Alt-Right (who were all Proud Boys, keep this in mind) seemed to hate Jews so very much. I asked the question publicly, genuinely curious, and Eli took a lot of time out to kindly and patiently explain the JQ to me. In addition, he pointed me to Dr. Kevin MacDonald’s Culture of Critique. I was told just to read the introduction to start. Well, by the time I got through the story of Charles Lindbergh and how these Jews utterly destroyed his life for daring to oppose our entry into WWII, the final piece of the puzzle snapped into place. I was officially Alt-Right. Everything I’ve learned since then, and it has been a LOT, has only further affirmed and strengthened my belief that the Alt-Right is the ONLY political movement based upon the truth. And the good news is, we’re not going away. Indeed, we grow stronger every single day.
What figure has been the greatest influence on the development of your political beliefs?
It’s not a popular opinion in “polite society,” but I must say I’ve been most influenced by Adolf Hitler. If you’re not yet a member of the Alt-Right, you’ll probably be shocked and perhaps even horrified by that revelation, but you must understand that our educational system, our media apparatus, most major global corporations and the vast majority of our government has been overtaken by hyper-rich Jewish people with an unfathomable grudge against Hitler and his National Socialists; and they possess money and means to fabricate an alternate reality. The truth is that Hitler literally saved Western Europe from immediately falling to Soviet enslavement by Stalin’s army, which was the strongest in the entire world at that time and was amassed in offensive preparation along the European border. Stalin’s plan was to launch a massive offensive into Europe and Hitler’s preemptive attack was the only thing that could have stopped it. He forced Stalin to change his entire military and production infrastructure from offensive to defensive, giving Europe a chance to remain free. Unfortunately, instead of siding with him as they should have, most of Western Europe chose to side with true evil. Hitler’s love for his people, his pro-German volk policies, and his radical economic ideas changed Germany from one of the most destitute countries in the entire world to a world superpower in just ten years. Really think about how amazing that is. He used to tour the country unprotected in an open-topped Mercedes Benz and was loved by quite literally every German. Once you begin to learn the truth that has been hidden from you, you understand that everything you were ever taught about the history of your people was a bald-faced lie. It can make a man pretty angry to find this out. If anyone is interested in learning more about what truly happened in WWII I would highly recommend the book Germany’s War, by John Wear (Twitter acct @WearsWar) along with the works of David Irving.
Who or what are some others influences on you personally and/or politically?
I’m a Catholic who is very disappointed at the direction the Church has taken since Vatican II, and particularly since this installation of the current usurper Pope. I’m a HUGE fan of Eric Striker, Mike Enoch, Jazzhands McFeels, Marcus Halberstram, Sven, Alex and Jayoh, Ethnarch, and my buddies Spectre and Lauritz von Guildhausen. The entire lineup at therightstuff.biz is filled from top to bottom with tremendous people. And a message to any of you who listen to the podcasts but still don’t paycuck: You are missing premium content and I feel sorry for you.
Although I’ve always been political, I never really wanted to spend all my time doing this. I’m a fiction writer and to be honest I’ll be happy when we win this thing so I can spend more of my time on that. My literary heroes are Shakespeare, Melville, Faulkner, and McCarthy.
You are one of the original members of the Proud Boys. What premises were the Proud Boys originally founded on?
Although the Proud Boys did not call themselves specifically Alt Right, all of the original tenets of the group’s political identity were Alt Right, except perhaps regarding the JQ. When the group started, Race Realism was openly discussed and accepted. All of the original members were acutely aware of the problem of multiculturalism. To this clean living, a rejection of degeneracy, a rule forbidding masturbation and pornography, the veneration of the housewife and the elevation of the traditional family as an ideal. All of these were foundational principles and you can see how they overlap with those of the Alt-Right.
The Facebook page, over which Gavin had final say, was created as an explicitly free speech environment. Literally anything was allowed. The original group was teaming with guys who were either overtly Alt Right or guys like me, at the time, who’d just discovered the Alt-Right and felt like they’d found the father they’d been searching for their entire lives. The problem is that, because Gavin was a C-list celebrity, his creation of the group also attracted a lot of guys who were more interested in being a part of the cult of personality than they were interested in adhering to the actual moral tenets that originally defined the group. So when Gavin finally changed the direction of the group, there was a huge faction of these NPC types that just blindly agreed with anything he said, no matter how stupid or destructive.
How has that organization changed since its inception?
Well at some point, what happened was Gavin decided to vie for a cushy, high status, high pay job working at Fox News. He knew that in order to secure this position, he would have to clean up his image. That meant getting rid of all of the “racists” and “Nazis” in the group. There were a number of incidents in which his pronouncements and purges resulted in fairly extreme pushback from our guys. As you can imagine, Alt Right guys are NOT beholden to any leader who fails to adhere to our ideological standards. Gavin is a narcissist, so I think he just figured he could tell all of us what to do and we’d roll over and show our bellies. This is definitely not what happened, and it caused him much grief and irritation that he was unable to just decree what the Proud Boys would be about from one day to the next. One of his decrees, always couched in the weasel words of having been decided upon by “The Elders,” (there were no Elders, only his ego and ambition) is that there would no longer be any talk of Race Realism in any form whatsoever. After that he came after any criticism of Jewish power; unsurprising, being that he was working for Rebel Media at that time and his boss was the scheming Jew Ezra Levant. Each of these pronouncements was met with schismatic pushback from our side. I was kicked from the group twice by Gavin personally for voicing my vocal opposition at his taking what he’d promised us was a pro-White, pro-free speech, pro-truth group in the direction of GloboHomo “Conservatism,” in which homosexuals, transsexuals and based black guys in MAGA hats were elevated as the most important members of the Proud Boys and White men were no longer allowed to advocate for their own people.
There are still a ton of great guys in the Proud Boys. I’m still friends with many, many guys and I hold absolutely nothing against them. Indeed, many of them believe the same things we do and know all about everything the Alt-Right stands for, but because of the current political climate, are afraid to come out as explicitly in White solidarity as the Alt-Right does. That’s fine. I understand that. These are tough times and these guys are on our side and I will never abandon them. That said, not all of them are this based. Gavin invited a massive influx of NPC GloboHomo automatons in with his selfish actions, and these are the cringe fringe elements of the Proud Boys with which you may be familiar. The ones more concerned about fighting imaginary “Nazis” while us Nazis are the only ones standing between them and total Third World invasion of brown hordes who will gleefully set them and their families on fire after raping their wives and children. The Proud Boys could have been a real force to stand in solidarity with the Alt-Right and fight evil together effectively. The funniest thing about it is that it did not matter in the end. All of their cucking and signaling against so-called racism and Nazism only bought them about a year. Now they are in the exact same boat as us. With the recent arrest of these Proud Boys for defending themselves against some rich Antifa trust fund kids, expect RICO charges to come down on the group, possibly Gavin himself (there is an enormous amount of footage of him calling for actual gang violence) and expect Gavin to cave and either disavow or disband the group that paid him so much of their loyalty and, if nothing else, was willing to go out into the streets and fight for us.
How has Gavin changed, or do you believe he was always hiding this aspect of himself?
This is the thing that frustrates me the most about him. He had so much potential. HE KNOWS all of the things we know. He was our guy. He was not only woke to Race Realism and the Jewish Question, but he also had the rare ability to speak off the cuff about it in a hugely entertaining matter. He is the very reason I ended up where I did. He could have done so much more. And do you want to know what the funniest thing about all of this is? That cushy Fox News spot he wanted? They gave it to some 56% mongrel Affirmative Action hire former professional wrestler. Oh, the irony.
For those living under a rock, a “migrant caravan” of thousands of mestizos is headed toward the US border from Honduras through Guatemala and Mexico. These caravans don’t just magically appear—who is behind them?
Jewish NGOs most likely working with Mexican and Central American drug cartels. There is nothing organic about these caravans nor could there possibly be. It’s not possible for thousands of people to move across a 2000 mile stretch of land without significant supply trains providing food, water, medical services, and, in this case, transportation. They’re not walking or they would not arrive for many months. Those pictures you see are staged. These people are being transported here in trucks provided by these NGOs and cartels and they’re going to arrive, how conveniently, just in time for the mid-terms. My guess is that the ultimate goal is to force President Trump’s hand to the point that he must actually militarize the border and then, when he does, push things to further necessitate the use of deadly force to stop these “poor, defenseless people” and when that happens, use it to incite domestic and international outrage as if WE are the evil ones and not this invading army. We’ll see.
Can you explain to our readers who might not be familiar with or accepting of it what exactly the “Jewish Question” is and why they must understand it?
In short: Jews never feel comfortable in cohesive, racially homogeneous nations and are genetically compelled to constantly undermine, subvert and degenerate those societies. It's an ugly cycle because the more they do it, the more they are noticed doing so, and the higher the risk becomes of the very thing they so neurotically fear actually coming to pass. Eventually, it always does. This is the reason the worst thing you can call a Jew is Jew. This is why they've been expelled from over 1000 locations through history. Once you start looking into it, it really is hard to believe. The genetic aspect is a chicken and egg question. Do they exhibit extreme in-group preference and extreme negative out-group bias because they’ve been expelled from so many locations, or have they been expelled so many times because of their genetic inclination to parasitically prey upon their host nation? My guess is it’s the latter, but the reader will have to decide for himself. Again, I highly recommend Dr. Kevin MacDonald’s excellent book Culture of Critique for those interested in the historical and genetic proclivities of the Jews.
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Are you saying being expelled from over one thousand locations throughout history makes you a poor houseguest?
Well, let me just say this: If someone had been kicked out of the last 1030 apartments he’d rented, would you rent him a room?
Explain why -to your mind- the Alt-Right is the only logical home for any self-respecting white person.
The truth is, people cleave along racial lines. You may know a really nice, smart black person, but the majority of American blacks, particularly males, possess an IQ of around 85 and demonstrate an extremely elevated tendency toward violent criminal behavior. Study after study has demonstrated that multiculturalism brings with it the erosion of social trust and happiness, an increase in crime, and decreased social cohesion. Whites simply are not welcome in non-White communities, and we are constantly attempting to flee to areas that are more White, only to have governments (often at the behest of Jewish interest groups) force more non-Whites into areas deemed “too White,” via programs like bussing, Section 8 housing, Affirmative Action, the list goes on and on. The truth is, it’s only a matter of time before we will have no place left to flee to. When Whites become a hated minority in the countries their ancestors founded, countries which rightfully belong to us, they will suffer the same fate as the unfortunate White South Africans. Theft of their land, violence, genocide, and finally extinction. The Alt Right is the ONLY political group that exists explicitly to fight for the rights of Whites to retain their birthright and end forced forfeiture of our property, land, sons, and daughters to endless waves of non-Whites who demand infinite access to our wealth. It’s no accident that ONLY White nations are told they MUST open their doors to an unending stream of these needy people who contribute nothing to our nations, drain our welfare coffers, commit crime at an astronomically higher rate than do the native citizens, and finally just have no business being here for any other reason than that Jews decided this because it serves their interests.
How do you see this ending? Are we doomed or do we eventually win? If so, what does winning look like?
So much has changed in the last decade. If ten years ago I was told that transsexuals in demon costumes would be celebrated for reading homosexual propaganda to preschoolers in government-funded institutions, I honestly would have dismissed it as insane. I never would have believed there would be a “debate” over if a grown man who calls himself a woman could use the same public bathroom as an adolescent girl. Or that there would be streams of non-Whites the size of Roman legions flowing unopposed into our formerly sovereign nations. Or that the streets of Paris would begin to resemble those of Bangladesh. That the statues of the great White men who created the greatest civilization that has ever existed in the history of mankind would be torn down under the sigil of social justice for the made-up crime of “racism.” I never expected to begin to feel like an alien outsider surrounded by hostiles in the neighborhood I grew up safe and secure in.
The good news is, I’m not the only one feeling these emotions or thinking these thoughts. The White man is waking up, and the Alt-Right is here to offer him an alternative to the degenerate path to our own extinction that was the only road we were given for so many decades. Time is speeding up. We’ve witnessed massive changes in the past few years that none of us ever believed were possible. But all of those changes, all of this accelerationism virtually assures that enough White people are going to realize with alarm exactly what is happening to us, and why. And when they do, and I don’t think it will be long, you are going to witness a revolution on a scale heretofore unimaginable, that is going to drive all of the subversive, corrosive, evil elements from our nations in a more spectacular fashion than has ever been witnessed on the stage of written history. It will be a truly righteous correction. And from it will be born the revitalization of a healthy, creative, productive, thriving, happy White society. The White society that we always deserved. And the Alt-Right is going to lead that revolution.
Hail victory!
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Just in case dandymeowth deletes the old posts they had on their blog (Part One)
9/10/16: bizarropurugly
list of things anti-sj have told/believed about me, this list is not exhaustive
tw for animal death/cruelty, nsfw, ableism, pregnancy, rape mention, drugs, pedophilia, etc
I personally created the Butthurt Brigade and did it to stalk and harass autistic kids on deviantART.
Also, I was kicked out of the BHB because I was “psychotic” about stalking and harassing autistics and the other members became afraid of me. Or wait, no, it was because I was obsessed with rape and murder and the other members became afraid of me. Or wait, no, it was because I kept harassing people sexually and the other members became afraid of me. Or wait, no, it was because I wouldn’t stop posting NSFW in the group’s private chatroom and etc etc etc
I deny I was ever a part of the BHB.
I ran multiple accounts posing as the BHB/members of the BHB across multiple websites just to prove that all anti-sj content is a conspiracy to kill me. (???)
I got pregnant on purpose to just to have an abortion, multiple times.
I kill cats. I harassed staff and admins on various websites for pity while killing cats. Refusing to take cats to the vet, to fix them, or to let them be inside cats. I started a fundraiser for a cat who I won’t neuter and whose kittens I put in trees to scam people.
I consider myself a “shitposter extraordinaire”.
I’m anti-kink, anti-nsfw, and anti-porn.
I call people anti-choice if they keep a pregnancy. I want all pregnancies everywhere forever aborted and I think anyone who disagrees with that is a misogynist.
I use my depression as a defence when people criticize me, or as an excuse to not improve. I threaten suicide over this.
I write fanfics for rape and have been banned from multiple websites for it. I also draw rape art of people I don’t like.
I’m always smoking weed, constantly, nonstop. But also, I claim to hate marijuana.
I’m always masturbating, constantly, nonstop. I consider myself crazy, quirky, and random for having sex toys or naming my sex toys, and regularly post pictures of them. I spam my followers asking what I should do with my sex toys next.
I haven’t had a job for several years.
I believe / I said austistics are being raped and beaten in the streets in broad daylight.
I love spamming people with and generally being into hardcore guro.
I’ve been in / I am currently in groups that have the intention to give people seizures on purpose. I hate epileptics and think they shouldn’t be allowed anywhere but particularly the Internet.
I chased down and harassed, threatened, spammed multiple people for genderbend art. And for liking Uncle Grandpa, in fact I specifically followed the show’s tag to find victims.
I claim to be triggered by Uncle Grandpa existing and that Uncle Grandpa is child abuse.
I run WNSE posing as a medical expert / a medical professional.
I am intersex, or that I stated having a mole made me intersex.
I created Ham Ham Kingdom and left it in shitty code disarray. I did this with several websites and refused to let anyone else be administrators.
I lost my virginity for shits and giggles and did it with a coworker sexually harassing me. Also, I did it to prove sex was bad and so I could post all over my Tumblr how wrong and oppressive sex is.
I have a phobia of Middle Eastern men and it keeps me from sleeping well.
I lie about hating alcohol and get drunk regularly.
I groom children for pedophilia by posting instructions on how to masturbate.
I made a chatroom on dA for posting nsfw, guro, rape, etc and it was banned.
Scrapping a character and story about a single father because it wasn’t about rape or gayness.
I think age of consent laws are stupid and meaningless. I am sexually attracted to minors.
9/10/16:bizarropurugly
And now for the truth of these lies (if there is any)
same warnings as before
I didn’t create the BHB or come anywhere close to doing that. By the time I joined the BHB it had already been restarted several times, with each time having less of the original crew (and consequently having more mortal enemies from that original crew). I was briefly an admin after it had been restarted again after the dA deactivation fiasco, and then was removed as an admin as part of a fake fight, but I never asked to be reinstated, so I wasn’t. Yes, all I had to do was ask, there was no amazing revolution or conspiracy involved at all. What happened was that, in one of the few times I was ever in the BHB chatroom (which was rarely ever populated if I could remember right), we got to talking about reverse racism and how awful it was (yes, really), and that dA admins were being shit about it (which was a frequent focus). So the idea came up to make “secret” white pride groups to bait dAdmins to deleting it so that we could prove the reverse racism. Revolting as it was, they weren’t deleted, but Fuhrer Glasses and I came up with separate groups, had a “fight” about it, and when I wouldn’t say that his was funnier, he removed me as an admin until I would or until I asked. (This is different from what I had said before, I know; I had said that he edited a picture of me and I didn’t find it funny so he removed me in the same manner, but I actually remembered that that particular event happened afterwards and what he was threatening me with was actually a temporary ban from the chat, but that he didn’t go through with, and which he threatened because I wouldn’t tell him why I was asking him not to post it. At the time I didn’t want to admit I had really bad body image and dysphoria because, well, does the BHB sound like a safe place to admit to those things? Especially since I had seen members and admins alike misgender trans people they deemed “lulcows”, which is a tradition these types of groups continue now.) After that, I gradually stopped being active as I grew apathetic with dA and became less active in general on it, finding Tumblr to somehow be more preferable (maybe ‘cause all my friends had left dA too? lol). Yes, it was a troll group, and yes, it did involve harassing others like any and all other troll and anti-sj groups that have since spawned in its place. And that’s literally all it was - the same shit you’ll find on places like Tumblr, Kiwi Farms, Encyclopaedia Dramatica, and etc. It was never a specific group against any particular persons or identities, although like these places definitely featured ableists, eugenicists, Nazis, and somesuch. It’s not a proud time in my Internet history by no means, but no, I wasn’t leading a secret war against autistics, I didn’t send or threaten anybody with sexual content (the only people I talked to on messengers were Fuhrer Glasses on MSN and former-admins-now-enemies years later on Skype), I wasn’t kicked out because everyone got scared of me (honestly that’s a really laughable thing to claim if you remember who the admins were), and honestly the only place I’ve ever publically gotten into details about my kinks has been Tumblr (later FurAffinity and Weasyl), and only in recent years have I ever really openly discussed kinky stuff with people in private conversation or through messages. The only place I could think this claim would come from was when I was in the chat of the enemy group (ie, the anti-BHB) and kept talking about milk machines, which got me temporarily banned because I wouldn’t shut up and was making the chat too nsfw for everyone’s likings (generally jokes were the only OK things). I admit to making people uncomfortable here because I was an excitable shit who kept infodumping at random and I want to send out an especial apology to toonlink about that shit in particular. But no, this wasn’t the BHB and this was after I had already been removed as an admin from the BHB. The BHB wasn’t allowed to be talked about there, really. And I’ve never denied that I was a part of the BHB, ever. Denied that the BHB was all the scary made-up bullshit people who weren’t even admins claim? Yeah, and I’m really surprised at the amount of people who remember BHB and being in it, and even praise its existence and/or mourn it, but yet simultaneously think the admins ever cared about who got harassed or that the BHB was some eugenics agent group.
The “multiple accounts posing as BHB” thing came from a single person’s post that was 100% a bunch of lies and bullshit they never answered for. Other BHB members/ex-members along with myself have even denounced it. This came from the same person claiming I created the BHB, created it to stalk autistics, and was kicked out (despite being the founder? lol) because the BHB grew a conscience somehow and started caring about autism. That’s all bullshit, so is the claim that I’ve made accounts on Reddit, LJ, and side accounts on Tumblr to pretend to be the BHB to give it a bad name or to create evidence that anti-sj people are trying to kill me or some weird ass bullshit that made 0 sense. This person claimed to have been a BHB admin (they weren’t, at least not while I was ever part of it, and nobody else has heard of them) and also to have been a Skype buddy of mine during a time I didn’t use Skype but instead MSN, and as I’ve said the only BHB people I’ve talked to on Skype were original-now-ex-members, which all have attested to this being bullshit. And what’s funny is that this out-of-nowhere post appeared during a dispute with user noyka about whether ableism is real and whether the disabled are oppressed, and has subsequently been used by said user as proof that I’m The Real Ableist. This was also the same user claiming I said autistics were being beaten and raped in the streets, which has never been anything I’ve said, not literally and not in spirit. This claim came from our argument after I linked various articles of autistic children being killed by their parents and receiving sympathy for it as part of evidence of ableism being real. In other words, not just a strawman of what I said but a complete lie. That and the frequent use of autistic as an insult and casually suggesting euthanasia as a treatment for “autists” being constantly brayed by the people who’ve created and perpetuated these lies should really be all the proof anyone needs as to their veracity.
The claim I kill cats comes from intentional misreading and outright lies about pasts posts I have made regarding the death of my animals. The posts gathered have spanned at least 3 or 4 years and are often presented out of order or under the impression that they’ve all happened within the same span of months. Another thing to understand: these posts were made while I was living with my parents still and didn’t have a job. The posts presented do talk about cats dying, but “in horrible, avoidable ways” can be a stretch, considering some of them are just that the cats disappeared, and others died as a result of illnesses and issues that either came suddenly or that we’d been trying to fight for a long time. For example, a post taken as proof of me killing my cats and “feeling nothing about it” was a post I had written after we had put Crookie down about how upset I was that she had died and that this had happened. This was taken as me trying to garner pity for an animal I purposely and cruelly murdered and put all the focus on how hard it was to be me. We had Crookie for several years, and while she was young she was hit by a car and suffered spinal damage, and this ended up being why she had to be euthanized; I don’t quite remember what it was that was specifically wrong, but the vet told us that frequently it is missed and while the cat seems to improve, it will eventually begin to decline up to and including total pelvic shutdown, which Crookie was getting near to. It was horrible to witness her climbing trees but then in a few months unable to support her hind end, because we had been fooled into thinking she was going to be okay. It’s such a specific condition that it is rarely seen or checked for; there was no plausible way for us to have seen it coming. That’s why she died. It wasn’t instant, she wasn’t a baby, it wasn’t a decision made on the fly, and you bet your ass I fucking cared about it and bawled for days on end about it. Crookie was incredibly special and a fucking gift to this earth, I didn’t want her to die and I damned well wasn’t fucking ready for it. Could she have not been hit by a car? Yeah. Yeah she should have been inside. But it wasn’t in my fucking power; it wasn’t my house. I had no control over that shit. That’s your answer to every “why weren’t they inside” and “why didn’t you bring them in” - because I wasn’t allowed to! And no, I also didn’t have the personal finances at the time to take anyone to a vet, not even to be fixed. My parents are fucking awful about this and ever since I have moved out I have been the one taking these animals to the vet even though I don’t live with them anymore, and I’m frequently berated by them about how much money I “waste” while doing this. And that’s how a lot of the “evidence” for this claim is. They take posts out of context of their time and my place, line them up together, and say I personally and intentionally killed a million cats in a month. They said I killed a kitten, because it crawled under my brother’s jeep hood and got its neck broken. Because he kept driving into the yard after we had repeatedly told him not to, and never checked his vehicle before starting it, because he quite fucking frankly doesn’t and never cared. They said I murdered it, and that I was abusive and evil because I made a post about it - about the horror of fucking witnessing a literal fucking baby struggling and dying in fear and panic right before your fucking eyes and not knowing what to do and how awfully it fucks with your head, with your life, to be in that position. They said I killed a kitten I raced to the emergency room because my parents called at midnight saying he couldn’t breathe, that I dropped 600 dollars down without question for the surgery that could save him, that he fucking died in anyway, that they called me at 3 in the morning and told me he didn’t fucking survive. My parents said I wasted my money, that I should have told them not to even try. And they said I purposely put kittens in a tree - intentionally stripping the context of how that’s where they were born, and that we stopped trying to take them down because the mother kept taking them back up there and we were afraid she’d fucking drop them. They also claimed that this cat from posts 3 years prior, that I had while living with my parents and that had been adopted to another family, was the cat I was raising funds for and thus I was scamming people. The cat I raised funds for was a black “male”, she was an orange mother cat, and again there’s 3 years and two locations between those posts - there’s no way to confuse the two, but there is if you’re desperate to smear someone as psychotic animal murderer because you know they’re sensitive to cat death! Basically, they twist my posts of me mourning my beloved pets as being “woe is me give me money” posts, and spread the rumour that I just let these things happen.
When I posted the “shitty artist” list, like every time this kind of post is made, it was reduced and watered down to make out like the OP is a radical hater who wants everything censored, and so I was called anti-kink, anti-porn, and anti-nsfw because of my pointing out the problems with these artists that of which some were porn artists. Which when it came to those it was generally the issue of pedophilia, zoophilia/bestiality, rape, fetishization especially of trans people, the usage of transphobic/intersexist slurs (like f*ta), and other really nasty shit. As a result a lot of my nsfw work is used as an “aha!” for why I’m stupid, a hypocrite, and a disgusting creep. It’s really hilarious to try to drag me for being openly sexual, while also calling me these things. So am I a slut or a prude? Whichever works to whip up the crowd, I guess. And of course, dragging me for the same things they praise and defend in others. But no, I’m not anti any of those things. I have had “kink positive” as a descriptor for a long, long while. I think the peak of funny when it comes to these claims is when anonymous people tried to warn one of my friends and fave kink artists about me, about how I was a kink-shamer and swerf/radfem and they should be careful. But yeah basically these kinds of claims are from people who think “you can draw porn just don’t use slurs” and “this person is a pedophile/rapist/animal rapist” are kink-shaming.
The anti-choice thing is from a particular shitty little brat who is fucking furiously obsessed with me because I told them they’re not my friend and I don’t like them or want anything to do with because they are anti-choice. I kept explaining how and why they are anti-choice, but they prefer to lie and say I called them anti-choice because I don’t think people should have babies. They’ve taken this lie and ran with it, including posting about it on the submissions/pages of other anti-choicers and linking me so that they’ll attack me. If I even still used the word, I’d say they’re the definition of butthurt. They may also be the reason for the idea that I get pregnant just to have abortions, or at least spread it themself.
The “rape fanfics” crap started over To Violate. To Violate was a story I was writing about Candler’s background (spoiler alert? haha) and, yes, it involved rape. Because the story was about how he became a the person he is, which included that he was sexually abused and later sexually abusive himself. Actually the main idea behind it was that he and Zed have both been sexually abused, but each reacted radically differently to it, and I guess the ultimate goal was to write this and Zed’s history down and basically show how we can react in our own unique ways to the trauma we experience. I’ve removed it myself (it has never been deleted from anywhere else otherwise) from the places I had it posted due to the fact it was way, way too ambitious of a project for me (for now) and was just downright written badly. Like, really badly. And I’ve since significantly changed Candler’s backstory… But it wasn’t a “fanfic” for rape - detailing sexual abuse and pedophilia and how it screws you up isn’t exactly what I would call a “fanfic”.
I haven’t smoked weed in a long, long time, and at no point did I ever say I hated it. What I DID say was that it was exhausting - because I’m very intolerant of smoke, so a hacking fit to the point of seeing stars or going temporarily blind was always guaranteed. As for not getting a job, that was when I lived with my parents, and never have I asked for money while living with them; my asking for financial help is relatively new (within the last 2 years at most?). I don’t like alcohol. I can drink here and there, but only wine coolers or Mike’s Hard and other lightweight stuff. Something in particular about alcohol is incredibly vile and wretched to my taste buds. The posts brought up of me drinking/being drunk are several years old, and most of them aren’t even of me being drunk. I think I’ve only legitimately been drunk maybe twice in my life. The posts in context with them also frequently talked about how I was harassed into drinking most times, because people don’t like to hear “no” about this, but of course that was omitted when bringing this terrible sin up. Like marijuana, I haven’t had alcohol in a very long time.
So my sexuality frequently becomes a subject, as mentioned. For whatever reason, a bunch of redditors chose to read the post I made about my first sexual encounter as me being a nasty radfem tricking a poor boy into sex just to destroy him and spread that sex was bad. I really don’t have to explain why this is bullshit because if you know me you know I’m not anti-sex at all. (WNSE? lol?) This same post is often brought up to mock me for no reason because I guess the very thought of a “sjw” having sex and posting personal posts on a personal blog is laughable? I didn’t have sex “just to lose my virginity”. I have never expressed anything like that in my life. If anything, most of my life I bought into the bullshit of coveted virginity. My early sexuality is a real complicated topic, but at no point did this ever become a thing. And when I did have that first encounter, I don’t think I even had a job? So no, I wasn’t going to sleep with my sexually-harassing-coworker. I actually met him online at FetLife (wouldn’t recommend that!), I don’t remember exactly how it started but we wound up exchanging numbers and chatting and talking on the phone frequently. This shit might have been pulled out of the asses of the anti-feminists who attacked me for making a post for the former “why I need feminism” trend; the post I had made was about how I was being harassed and creeped on by a coworker, and I complained about it to my mother because this was the guy I had bummed rides off of. She was all with me about how creepy and stalkerish he was being, up until she realized I was talking about someone my age rather than someone her age, and then she did a complete 180 and started yelling at me for “being so antisocial” for thinking this was shitty behaviour. The reason I said I needed feminism was because my mother and family thought this behaviour is acceptable as long as it’s from someone my age, and anti-feminists leaped on the post saying I was calling all men rapists, lying about my sexual harassment, lying about my sexual abuse and the way my parents treated it (like a joke), saying sex is bad, and etc. The rest of the shit about my sexuality is generally just for some reason finding it vile and creepy for me to even post about it on my personal blog, regardless of whether the claims are true - such as, no, I’ve never spammed anyone about my toys nor posted a million pictures of them? but even if I did so?? what?? Which again is hilarious when these are the same people decrying me for supposedly being anti-porn and anti-kink. And for the record, no, I’m not into hardcore guro. If we’re talking about gore at all I’m a real lightweight and I don’t really find it sexually exciting. I don’t find murder sexually exciting in itself either.
“Seizure Terrorists” is the only group I’ve ever known that would come anywhere close to fitting the description of a group made to give people seizures. And that’s not at all what they do - the group is just a place for flashing images and icons. During my time on dA around the same era as the BHB, rapid flashing images were incredibly popular. Some kind of meta level offensive shit. I’ve never been a member of Seizure Terrorists and the cap that was presented as proof (well, the one I saw) is cropped and snipped so badly I don’t know why people believe it. It also only made its appearance after I asked if ST was what they were referring to (because, again, I have no idea about anything else that comes close). The only affiliation I’ve had with them is that they’ve requested some of my stamps in their group. Idk if this is still true, but on dA when you’ve got images in a group, you’ll show up on their front page regardless if you’re a member, and it will say something like contributor or something?? Anyway, that’s how they got that cap, mate. Not a single person has responded to me about that.
Oh boy, the SU/UG thing. So it began a while ago before this thing in which some little truscum shit jumped on my post about how I was tired of seeing objectifying shitty genderbend art in the tag for the character Mephisto Pheles. Mind you, my personal is always set not to show up in search and I didn’t tag this post with anything relevant. In other words, this person showed up out of nowhere and started screaming at me for criticizing genderbending. They stopped replying after I asked for proof of me harassing anyone. This same person then went on to claim I had attacked and threatened their friend(s) (they kept changing the number) and several other artists over genderbend art. They were just thatmad about it. And when it came to my post about how I didn’t like the Steven Universe/Uncle Grandpa crossover, they couldn’t wait to spam tags and inboxes about how I had done this and was also now doing it to Uncle Grandpa fans and the fandom tag. Again, they stopped replying to me when I demanded they post the proof. At no point had I ever ventured into a tag. I avoid tags as much as possible. All the things I had posted were replies to reblogs of my post, or replies to messages I was being sent. I also never said anything about being triggered, or that Uncle Grandpa is child abuse. What I did say was that cartoons are important especially for children’s developing selves, as a response to people saying that cartoons don’t matter so we should just ignore the problems they present or feed into. This person and another screencapped a few of my posts which people love to run wild with as proof of this harassment, but, again, the caps are of me replying to my messages and reblogs of my posts. And also, for context: that person who posted the screencaps I’m pretty sure was one of the blogs that popped up solely to attack SU fans over this episode. In other words, was dedicated to that harassment they claimed I was committing. Both these users misgendered me multiple times, intentionally. You don’t have to just take my word for it since archive.is has it all. You know, a lot of these anti-sj types nearly piss their pants about people who lack reading comprehension, or take things out of context to vilify, including by digging up old and irrelevant “evidence”, and yet that’s what I’m constantly seeing them doing. In fact…
I have never claimed to be intersex and the “evidence” that has been used about that is the description of a stamp I made against genital cutting, talking about the fact that my mother 1. told me I should have my genitals altered because they’re “not right” and 2. told me she believes intersex children should have their genitals altered, going along with that same logic. You can even read that yourself in the links people provide about that. Again, it seems the people who explode the worst about reading comprehension and context are the people who commit this folly the most.
HHK brings back fond memories of me being a teenager. I’m 26 now. HHK was my place about 10 years ago. And no, none of us acted really well; we were all in some way definitely some pretty crappy kids. This was years before I even went with BHB, people are surprised about it? I’ve been an admin on it off and on, sure, but Heru was the creator and destroyer of HHK. Not really sure how that managed to get fucked around since it’s always been Heru. We tried a revival that wound up being deleted for unknown reasons, which was made by Wolfeinheim, not me, although I was an admin off and on with this version too. I tried to remake the third incarnation but by then we’d all gone our separate ways. As for multiple websites and forums dying, yeah, like most teens I tried to make a free forum over anything. Is that really a crime? Silver Fang Fanhouse was the only one that got anywhere, and I’d left it to the rest of the staff before I got on Tumblr. They have access to my account to make any changes they couldn’t otherwise and have had this access for a while, and of course at any time before were able to come tell me to do something. While I have left I didn’t just drop off the edge of the earth without a word or any way to contact me. This is a really reaching and weak receipt.
I am not phobic of any race and never have I lost sleep about that kind of thing? I did once make a racist post about “Arabs”, probably soon after watching Taken or some other shitty movie about kidnapping women into sex slavery. That was bad, absolutely, and I have apologized for that (which if you don’t accept that’s fine, that’s not a problem), but getting “phobia and can’t sleep” out of a single post about sex trafficking is a fucking stretch. For the record, I have always had insomnia issues up to and including night terrors, paranoia, and fear of sleeping in the dark / sleeping alone. That has shit all to do with a racist post I made and reducing my lifelong sleep problems to that is pretty fucking shitty.
I’ve made a couple posts about and answered minors about masturbation. Teaching how to masturbate or getting into details about what masturbation entails, and about sexual development in general, may be a controversial subject. In fact I would say it’s so controversial I was told my sex education project for highschoolers that featured simple pink circles showing how hymens can form and details about the myths surrounding hymens was given a lower grade for being “inappropriate”. But I’m pretty sure talking to teens about their bodies, especially how they can do things themselves and don’t need someone else to, and that there’s nothing immoral or wrong with that, isn’t grooming. But maybe that’s just me. I guess if you disagree with that you’re free to unfollow but I’m not going to feel bad about not posting purity myth level “education”.
I made a chatroom on dA but it pretty much died within 2 months. I realized I didn’t care that much. It was never banned or deleted as a punishment; if deviantART chatrooms do not have participants for a certain amount of time they’re automatically removed to save on webspace. I really don’t know where this rumour came from since I think maybe 4 people including myself ever attended that chatroom?
The single father story still exists. I just haven’t written it yet. If you read the post referenced, that’s exactly what I said - I didn’t write it, kind of lost the details, but I will some day when I remember them better. If you don’t believe me, his name is Frederik Botip and he is Zed’s best friend, he owns the organic grocery store that Zed shops at.
The age of consent claims relate to an incident with a user that stated that I and two other users had banded together as friends and sexually abused them/their friends and that one of us was using their sj blog(s) as a way to meet and subsequently abuse minors. There’s a lot of reasons why that was a bunch of crap but the post I’ve made about it is long gone thanks to my account being deleted. I’ll need to make a new post on it… But as a part of that one of their friends reblogged a post I had made about age of consent being tricky, because some places have it set ridiculously low, and the number of years between partners not exactly being the only thing to determine abuse, etc. It’s a subject I’ve covered a million times on WNSE. What happened is that person reblogged the post but took out everything but the opening sentence “Age of consent can be a tricky thing” and claiming I was making a case for child sexual abuse/pedophilia as a part of saying I tried to rape their friend. (This was also a person who said that it could never be possible for someone to rape/abuse someone older than them hence the context of my reply.) (For the record because I know the above is potential worrying content, if you don’t feel comfortable with me that’s fine. I don’t expect you to buy everything I say especially now that the evidence is gone.)
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