#faggots is a best friend to me i could never replace it

[q-soc-official]

Re: the girls, the gays, the germans. Don’t say faggots. Say Schwuchtel <3

I will never not take the opportunity to say faggots godbless <3

[bbydoll18xx]

How Do I Get to Heaven?

'Without changing a piece of me, how do I get to heaven?'

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Themes: angst, slurs, religious trauma, HAPPY ENDING i promise

A/N: hiii so this one is super angsty and sad. I've been going through a rough time, and this is my way of coping. I kinda touched on these subjects in 'She's Such a Good Girl' part 2, and this is similar. I was obsessed with 'Heaven' by Troye Sivan when I was like 15-16 and the lyrics hit a little too hard. If you're gay and were raised in a religious household, I suggest taking a listen.

~

“He’s a fuckin’ faggot!”

“Hate the sin, love the sinner.”

“Those kinds of people are going straight to hell.”

Your face remained neutral. It had to. But you had years of practice, and while you were internally sobbing at the bigoted remarks, there was nothing you could do to stop it. So you stayed quiet, and you maintained your usual look of disinterest. 

Running up the stairs, you finally make it into the safehaven of your bedroom. You shut the door quietly, trying to avoid seeming as if anything is wrong or out of the ordinary. Nothing could possibly be wrong. You were the perfect child; straight As, never in trouble, and you always were eager to help out around the house. But you were harboring a dirty little secret that threatened to rip you from the grips of being the golden girl of your family. 

Sobs wracked your body as you slid onto the carpeted floor of your room. What had started off as an innocent dinner had turned into a nightmare. Slurs were thrown around casually, and unbeknownst to your family, you were the unidentified target. Your sexuality was the reason you had become an empty shell of a person, riddled with fear of accidentally outting yourself. And the anxieties you felt were bubbling up, threatening to ruin the perfect image of yourself that you had crafted for your loved ones. 

This wasn’t the first time. And it surely would not be the last. 

Your family had always claimed to love you. Your childhood was a happy one, but you feared the truth would break everyone. And even if they found out and still claimed to love you, you knew they would always see you differently. Gone would be the girl they knew, and their eager touts would be replaced with hushed whispers. You’d forever be known as “the gay one.” And you fucking resented that.

So here you sat on the floor, trying to quiet your sobs as you mourned the loss of the life you once knew and the people who would eventually turn their backs to you. 

Summer was ending, and soon you would be fleeing back to college, where your guard could be let down just enough to show the world a glimpse of who you really were and who you really wanted to love. 

There was just one girl who you wanted to love you back.

Paige Bueckers was your best friend. And she was so very gay. 

Since meeting her at the beginning of freshman year, she had pulled you out of a darkness that had resided in you since you had realized your feelings towards girls. It did not take long for you to fall madly, head-over-heels in love with her, but you had vowed to ignore it. 

Even if there was any hope of reciprocated feelings, you knew deep down that being in love with a girl would mean having to come out to your family. And you were just not ready for that. You weren’t sure if you would ever be ready for that. 

The thought terrified you. You knew you were willingly inhibiting a possibility of incredible happiness and love, but because it was at the risk of losing your loved ones, you were shutting it all out. 

‘Fuck. I really need therapy,’ you think miserably. 

That was the understatement of the century.

~

The new school year starts, and Uconn’s campus is ablaze with excited students and the possibilities of what is to come. You are finally starting to feel like yourself again, and the second your parents leave your apartment, you don a t-shirt plastered with Diana Taurasi’s face on it. 

You could finally get your gay card back.

A loud knock rings through the empty apartment, and before you could get to the door to answer it, Paige is peeking her head through it, a huge grin covering her face. 

She wastes no time barreling through the room, sweeping you up in a hug and spinning you around. Your feet leave the ground, causing your stomach to flip, and your legs automatically wrap around her waist for leverage. 

“Someone missed me,” you giggle, feeling breathless from being back in Paige’s tight embrace. You had been dreaming of this since you last saw her, back in July. 

“Course I did,” she chuckles, voice muffled against your hair. “You glad to be back?”

You groan. “Fuck, yeah I am. Lookin’ forward to not hearing some slurs for a bit,” you say, fist-pumping the air with a dramatic roll of the eyes. “And I’m especially looking forward to not having to listen to Fox fuckin’ News,” you add, pretending to gag.

Paige’s eyes rake over you, and she pouts, already knowing how your family could be. She had listened to your endless rants and your pathetic cries for the past three years. 

“I think you should just move in with me after this year ends. That way you don’t have to put up with that shit. Then we can be together after graduation,” she says earnestly. 

This was not the first time she had proposed this idea. And while you were internally jumping at the idea, the fear of how it would look to your family made you shy away. Paige wasn’t exactly the most straight-looking girl. Living with her would make things complicated. Your covert feelings had no place in a situation like that. 

You sigh. “I’ll think about it, P,” you promise, linking your pinky with hers, as you always did. 

~

Christmas break quickly rolls around, and Paige’s words are still playing in the back of your mind. Your feelings for her had grown, as if that was even possible, and having to leave her and the safety and warmth that came with her, was agonizing. 

Sitting against the hard back of the pew in your family’s Catholic church, you look around, thinking about how these people would be okay with you burning in hell forevermore. The familiar feeling of shame creeps back into your chest, the flames licking at your wounds. 

You wanted to run and hide. You wanted Paige. 

The Christmas activities persist, and amongst the holiday cheer and piles of gifts, uncomfortable conversations emerge, and you shrink back to your room, desperate for respite.

You felt so fucking abandoned. This was supposed to be a time to enjoy with your family, and instead you were hiding.

There was one person, though, you knew would not abandon you, and that was Paige. Her presence was enough to lessen the sting of the inevitable rejection of your family, and in that moment, it was enough. 

Pulling out your phone, you dial her number, longing to hear her voice, all the way from Montana. Christmas break could not end quickly enough. 

Paige’s smiling face is soon on your phone screen, but it falls as soon as she sees the tears falling down your cheeks and your wobbling bottom lip.

“Oh, baby, what happened?” She asks in a hushed whisper, voice full of anger and concern. 

“They hate me,” you cry. “They fucking hate me, and they don’t even know it yet.”

Paige sighs, trying to find the right words. While she had always had acceptance from those around her, she knew how difficult it was for you to be at home, and she desperately wished to take away your anguish. 

“I love you,” she stresses. “And I know that doesnt fix your family treating you like shit, but soon you’ll be back and everything won’t seem as shitty, I promise.” 

You nod, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. 

She loved you. And you knew that. But you wanted her to love you in the way you loved her. For now, you would take what you could get.

“Just a few more days,” she assures, and you feel the tiniest bit better.

Just a few more days. 

~

The start of the new year always engenders change, and you had promised yourself as the clock chimed to signify it was midnight that this would be the year you would hike up your big girl panties and figure out your shit with Paige. Your senior year had to slow down, and Paige’s proposal had been in the back of your mind since August. 

If you could get over your stupid crush on her, things would be all good and dandy, but your efforts to eradicate her place in your heart were futile. You had mused it over nearly a million times. Maybe you’d eventually get over her, and maybe she would have some bizarre habit that would inevitably give you the ick, ridding you of all romantic feelings toward her. 

You could only hope. 

You pump yourself up on the way over to Paige’s apartment, encouraging words forming on your lips, leaving a trail of fog from your warm breath against the cold air. 

You knock on her door, cheeks pink from the frigid temperatures of Connecticut in January, grateful that it hides your blush. Paige opens the door, eyes wide and hopeful. She always looked so damn alluring. 

Your words leave your mouth before your chary mind could overtake you. “I want to move in with you after school ends. I can’t go back to living like that.”

Paige’s features twist into a smile, and she pulls you in for a hug. “Gonna take such good care of you,” she whispers, and you believe her. Your arms wrap around her middle, anchoring you to the floor. 

“I should probably tell you, though,” she trails, her voice getting smaller as she takes a deep breath. 

You look up at her, confusedly. “Tell me what?”

“I love you. And not just like as a friend. So if you don’t want to live with me because of that, I get it,” she mumbles, eyes trained on the floor.

Your breath quickens at the realization. Paige loved you. And the thought of being a colossal disappointment to your family and potentially cast out did not seem to matter as much anymore. Because here was someone who loved every part of you and accepted the good, the bad, and the ugly. 

The look of shock swiftly morphs into one of unbridled euphoria, and without another thought, you pull Paige in for a kiss. It was filled with the pure longing and want of years of uncontrollable urges and repressed thoughts, and it nearly made all the shittiness worth it.

Pulling away, Paige links her pinky with yours again, just as she had back in August. It was an unspoken promise of love. And while you knew the journey would be inexorably difficult, Paige was worth it in the end. 

~

dang that was rough lol but thanks for reading as always:) I really hope this wasn't too triggering or anything for anyone. This has been such a nice outlet for my pain and anger, as I really don't have anyone to talk to about this stuff. I am here for everyone who can relate. My inbox is open if you guys ever want/need to talk

xoxo katy

[fencesandfrogs]

three letter words

my cousin tells me, "if i use gay as an insult, it's not because i hate gay people. it's just what i do." i can't remember what prompted him to tell me that, but for the rest of my life, it's the first time i'll remember someone using the word gay.

my mother tells me, "queer is an slur." i have been calling myself queer for three years already. the best word i have to describe myself, and she wants to take it from me, as if it could be replaced so simply with words i already know are insulting.

my friends tell me, "if gay isn't an insult, why are you upset when we call people gay?" and i fumble to explain that i know they mean it to be insulting, but we're in middle school and no one teaches middle schoolers how to explain this sort of thing.

i scream, "climb the fence, maggots," and one of the same friends tells me, "don't say that, it sounds like faggots," and i'm so upset that she thinks i'd use that word that i forget she had just called the other team gay.

my mother tells me, "there were no aids protests in the eighties." i show her the pictures. i don't say that i knew about this when i was ten. i don't say that there's a book on my shelf about a girl with hiv, and i wonder if it would still be considered YA if she were gay.

my father tells me, "i guess i should stop making lesbian jokes around you." i respond with something trivial. i'm at the age where labels so much and it's only the way i look at my best friend that i know there's something odd inside me. what he calls me doesn't matter.

my boyfriend tells me, "i haven't met your father." like everyone i date, he never will, but this is a matter of both of our safety. it's one thing to be a lesbian: it's another to be a gay man. it doesn't matter that i'm neither; what matters is the words people see.

green day says, "maybe i'm the faggot america." my cousin and father both have endorsed this song and eventually i hear it enough i stop flinching. i hold hands with boys and think about kissing them and know one day i will have to assign a word to myself.

my college friends call people "fruity" and are surprised when i'm upset. i wonder what history we share. they flop their wrists at me and i don't understand it. i have already crawled out of high school with my soul bared to everyone i knew. all i can hear from them is mockery.

here is something my mother will never understand: no word is safe. so what if i'm a fag? that word has never been apologized for in my presence. why can't i be a dyke? didn't i already pay the cost of being one?

[cigardadmasterdj]

"You worship my boots now, don't you, retard?"

"Yes, Master Harrison."

"Lick them. Lick the bottom of that boot for me, retard. Oh, Hell yeah! I can tell you whatever I want now. This is way better and way cooler than being your friend. I gotta admit, I'm really enjoying owning you, Shithead."

"Thank you, Master." Rodney kept his head down in deference, as instructed by the man who had brainwashed him for several weeks. The larger older man had taken Master Harrison in as his protege and together they captured his best friend and roommate, and kept him up for weeks worth of sleep deprivation, letting him collapse here and there, but plugging his brain so full of drugs that he was totally malleable to suggestion. Now he was a slave because he loved Master Harrison. He was convinced through hypnosis that it was originally done on a bet, but that he enjoyed being a slave so much that he could never THINK of going back to "normal life".

"Tell me again how you feel about your Master," Harrison told his new property.

"I think you're wonderful, Master. I'm so glad you own me now, Sir. And that you give me orders. I really like making you happy, Sir. Making you happy is why I'm here! Making you happy makes me happy, Sir!"

"Good boy, You fucking fag. You aren't a man, are you, Fuckface?

"No, Sir."

"What's your name now? What's your only real name?"

"My name is Fuckface, SIR." Rodney smiled. He had been trained to respond really well when Master called him names. It made his heart swell to get the honor of serving Master Harrison. A real man and a real alpha.

"Alright, Go get your buttplug and start practicing with it. I want you to work your way up to making room for my schlong. My dick is so much bigger than yours it ain't even funny, you got the tiniest dick I've EVER seen, boy!"

"Yes, Sir. It's very small compared with your dick, Master." Rodney agreed. He went and retrieved his 8 inch plug. He was massaging it in, just waiting for Master to take it out and replace it with his huge shaft. It had never occurred to Rodney that as a gay man, what he really needed was to be owned and branded like an animal, chained up in shackles and forced to serve his new benevolent owner.

It was good for Master to tell him how he wasn't a real man who could please a woman or even a man. His proper and only place was as a slave. Being a slave was good for him, and it gave Cameron/Fuckface clarity about his role in life.

"Now thank me for the pleasure of serving me today, slave!"

"Thank you, Master! It's a true gift to serve you! Sir!" The slave was overwhelmed with emotion. He never had to think for himself again. He'd work jobs and give the money to Master and not keep any for himself. He'd eat shitty tofu and lima bean meals, or just plain potatoes with no flavoring. Master told him he should be grateful to get that much. Potatoes were a lot of money, Master told him.

"Slave, do you love me?"

"Oh YES, Master! You're the best! You're the coolest guy in the whole world!"

"I know. I'm just making sure you remember. Now let's get you in the shower so you can drink my piss. Nothing like a gift from Master's tap, eh stupid?"

"Yes, SIR! You're the best, Master!"

Fuckface the slave was happy he had answered the ad for a roommate on some website or other. He couldn't remember which one or how he even had wound up coming here. It was all blurry. Master said to forget about his life BEFORE. It didn't matter. He nodded vigorously as he cleaned the floor with a toothbrush.

Everything was better now that he was serving MASTER, the brainwashed slave thought happily.

 MY NAME IS MASTER DJ. I AM A CASHMASTER, AND I HAVE ENSLAVED HUNDREDS OF MEN OVER THE YEARS. THEY ALL BOW TO ME. THEY WORSHIP ME. THEY CRAVE ME. THEY LOVE ME. I DESERVE IT ALL.

LIKE MY BLOG, STORIES AND CAPTIONS?

THANK ME VIA AN AMAZON GIFTCARD.

https://www.amazon.com/gift-cards/b?node=2238192011 

Send it to:

cigardadclassic@yahoo.com

I KNOW ALL. I SEE ALL. I SEE INSIDE YOUR FAGGOT SOUL.

https://www.amazon.com/gift-cards/b?node=2238192011

ALL FAGS LOVE ME. ALL FAGS WORSHIP ME. ALL FAGS CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF ME. YOU CRAVING SOME ORDERS, YOU LOWLY MAGGOT? HUH? COME MESSAGE ME ABOUT HOW MUCH YOU WANT TO SERVE. MASTER DJ IS HERE, AND I’M BETTER THAN YOU IN EVERY WAY.

[danasmonster]

Comparing the SKAM Remakes: ISAK (Part V)

Robbe (wtFOCK/SKAM Belgium)

The Differences:

OK let me start off by saying this is the most turbulent Isak/Even relationship yet. They lie to each other (Sander & Robbe), they yell at each other (Robbe), and they call each other homophobic slurs (Robbe). They also say “I love you” a lot more . . . 

Instead of pawning the weed off on someone else, Robbe had the weed pawned off on him

Unlike Isak, Robbe is still going through the process of finding a place to live. His mom has just been hospitalized and his dad lives really far away from his school, plus they don’t get along. 

Also, instead of Zoe (the Noora character) being in London, it’s Lisa (Linn) who is studying abroad, thus making the room available. It was a bit like the writers thought “meh, this character is just window dressing” and replaced her with Zoe, and it was nice to see more of Zoe's interactions with all the characters since she is more central to the series. Honestly both Zoe and Milan seem to really look after and take care of Robbe, more so than the other incarnations of Eskild and Noora. 

Milan is way more in your face about making out with men in front of Robbe than Eskild was. 

Both Robbe and Sander are in relationships with girls when they meet, however neither has been long term. Sander’s relationship with Britt has only been going on for six months, as opposed to four years with Even and Sonja. I think this is pretty significant because you could feel a lot of history between Even and Sonja and that is missing here with Sander and Britt. 

Robbe never lied to his friends in order to spend time with Sander, which was nice

But then he also totally freaked the fuck out after they kissed in the pool and went on the offensive with Sander, calling him a faggot and pushing him away . . . yeeek. I liked that Isak never took the hate for himself out on Even, never pushed him away. That Robbe did it here was understandable yes but I think I still prefer the orig. I mean Sanders face goddamn

Robbe broke up with Noor in person instead of just avoiding her/generally treating her like shit until they just fell apart 

I also liked that while yes the boys were creeping on the dancing girls like in the orig, in wtFOCK they were actually invited to be there as part of an actual audience. It didn’t feel as gross here.

Robbe and Sander didn’t just ditch the girls before the bike/pool scene - the girls went off on their own earlier and requested to be alone. It felt a little less dickish this way.

And OH MY GOD THE VIOLENCE! There is very explicit homophobia in the form of slurs and an actual physical attack on Robbe and Sander. No other incarnation has experienced such blatant hatred from other people. 

And what the fuck, Sander??? Sander flat out lied to Robbe when he told him he had broken up with Britt. 

There is also definitely some homophobia on the part of Moyo/Madhi and Aaron/Magnus. I mean, they actually call being bisexual gross and say they would be creeped out to be around a gay guy because he “might be into them.” That’s more than just ignorance, it’s intolerance, something that wasn’t present in Madhi and Magnus. Moyo in particular is way more of a dick. 

The scene where Sander has a bipolar episode is a little different because Robbe never tries to contact Britt, but somehow she is still there? Also her opinions on whether or not Sander’s feeling for Robbe are real hold a lot less weight considering they were only together six months as opposed to four years. Then instead of Sander’s friends and family taking care of him, he admits himself to a mental health facility. Then Jana/Eva encourages Robbe to just give up on Sander. Eeesh. 

Instead of Aaron/Magnus having a bipolar mother helping Sander understand it better, it’s Moyo/Madhi. Moyo also gives the minute by minute advice to him instead of Britt/Sonja. 

My Favorite Parts: 

I love the street art/graffiti subplot. I’ve always loved this type of art (when it is art). That first scene where Noor took Robbe to spray paint was so atmospheric, another song added to my playlist (

Fall

by The Bugg & Ina Copeland)Honestly any scene with Zoe and Milan was fantastic I liked when Milan readily admitted to going through everyone’s stuff when they weren’t home. I love the way Zoe is taking care of Robbe by making him food and just generally making him feel welcome when he moves in to the apartment with her and Milan. She was also really sweet when she made sure his wounds were disinfected after he was beaten up and making sure they were bandaged. Milan snuggling up to a sleeping Senna was great. I also really enjoyed the little taste of couple life from Zoe when she complained about Senna’s snoring. Zoe’s line was definitely on point. I don’t know how her relationship will end for her but this ideology is paramount to having a healthy relationship, period. 

“We’re a couple now but we also have our own lives”

It was really great and amusing foreshadowing when Noor replied to the boy’s saying all the chicks that go to the art school are hot with “

You haven’t seen the boys yet.

” Enter Sander.  

When Robbe meets Sander and they go around the store riding the grocery cart. It’s so carefree and happy and while I miss the pure absurdity of watching Even take all of the paper towels this scene was absolutely wonderful

The Halloween party was fucking epic.

Trick R Treat

by Josh A and Iamjakehill, added to playlistThe conversation between Milan and Robbe about Milan’s gaydar was really good, with the beginning of his response definitely tailored toward Robbe, and the look he gives him is so telling it’s uncomfortable. He was basically like, “I know you’re gay, bro.” Milan describes his gaydar as picking up on subtle signals, 

A certain look in their eyes. Or . . . It’s a bit like there is something in them that is desperately trying to get out. 

The conversation between Jens and Robbe about how sex isn’t everything was a prime example of how to be a good bro and healthy masculinity and I fucking loved it

The conversation between Milan and Robbe where Robbe admits to having feelings for another boy was super sweet. I feel like Milan was kind of taking on an Eskild/school nurse hybrid role here because he was mostly just encouraging Robbe not to keep everything inside and to be himself. His relationship with Robbe seems a bit more paternal and I love it for this version.

The scene where Robbe is actually open and honest with Sander about his conflicting emotions about his sexuality was much appreciated

The scene when Milan was describing a very butch guy on the bus becoming all soft like when he looked at him was great. Everyone melts for you, Milan 💋

Have I said how much I love Zoe and Milan??? Also I can’t wait to see Zoe and Senna’s story when I go through all the Nooras, Senna definitely seems like the best William so far. I know they break up in the last episode of Robbe’s season but I have hopes they will get back together.

It was absolutely amazing to watch Milan put Mojo in his place

The scene where Zoe and Robbe go Christmas shopping is terrific. I just love watching their friendship 

The scene of everyone opening their Christmas presents together was also adorable 

Things I Missed:

The funny, quirky little moments like the metal leg conversation between Even and Isak right before their almost first kiss or the absurdity of the paper towel scene when they first meet

The scene where the whole boy squad is together and giving Isak relationship advice. In this one is was just Jens and I felt let down that Aaron and Moyo couldn’t be there as well. 

And a shout out for Noor, who gets my vote for best Emma

Noor (Emma) kissed Robbe after he complimented her, not after he insulted her. 

Robbe also seems to have more of an actual relationship with Noor than Isak had with Emma. 

Noor is definitely the coolest version of Emma so far, both in personality and appearance. I mean not only does she look fucking great but she was so sweet about how Robbe couldn’t get it up when they tried to have sex. 

I really love the development of their relationship in this and how much more complex it is than in the original.

I also love that she and Robbe seem to have repaired their relationship and can be friends by the end of Robbe’s story

GO NOOR!!

[bangtanloverboys]

i’ve had no love like your love // knj

summary - Namjoon loves you for you; and he will help you no matter what

pairing - best friend!namjoon x transmale!reader

genre - fluff, angst; friends to lovers au

word count - 5.3k

warnings - gender dysphoria, unaccepting parents, homophobia, transphobia, use of the words dyke and faggot, transitioning, references to sex, referenced surgery, minor description of post op chest

author’s note - this is based off of personal knowledge of transitioning, what happens in this story may differ from someone else’s experience

You don’t know what you’d do without Kim Namjoon. He’s been your rock all throughout high school and is still there for you through college. You were the new kid at school and being the new kid came with all the attention of all the other students; being the shiny new toy for them, dropping in the middle of your sophmore year. After the first few weeks of school, the excitement of being the new kid died down, Namjoon was the only one that didn’t drop you and continued to be there for you.

Namjoon was there for you when you went through your first date, your first kiss, and your first time. That last one hitting you a bit differently than you might think. Hoseok was a nice guy and you really did enjoy going out with him, but soon as you started going further you couldn’t help but feel wrong. The while the way he touched you and the things he said did feel good in the moment, afterwards you felt. . .gross. After that night out, you immediately went to Namjoon’s house and cried into his arms for hours. At first, Namjoon wanted to kill Hoseok for causing you to cry but when you explained to him it was just the fact you felt personally gross afterwards and it was less him and more you he calmed down. You ended up just chalking it up to the stigma of guilting women who are free in their sexuality.

After Hoseok though, no one really seemed interested in dating you. Your family said it was because you started dressing like a man. Which wasn’t entirely wrong; the way you seemed to present didn’t stop guys completely avoiding you, but it wasn’t as many as before. You stopped dressing in feminine clothing and opted for more masculine things. Namjoon’s parents joked often that your new style mimicked a lot of what Namjoon wore: which consisted a lot of large sweaters (ironically enough were his, more often than not) and baggy pants.

 While Namjoon’s parents were okay with your style change, your own parents seemed to be concerned. They made comments about you hiding your quote-un-quote beautiful body behind ugly clothes. Despite the comments being said out of love, you couldn’t help but feel more hurt by the words. You didn’t like the way your body was shaping and the way the clothes you originally had framed your figure. You felt immensely more comfortable looking like a baggy box. 

Everything seemed to be doing okay until ‘Senior Ditch Day’. Namjoon and you along with everyone else in your class decided to hit the beach. All of your fellow classmates played in the water and goofed off, while you and Namjoon were at the shoreline digging around for crabs. You were minding your own business when all of a sudden a glob of wet sand hit you in the head, knocking you over. 

Namjoon called out to you and helped you back on to your feet. You watched his face as he glared behind you, you turned around just in time for another clump of wet sand to hit you directly in your chest. Looking up you saw it was about 3 other guys, all of whom were in your class.

Confused, you looked to Namjoon whose jaw was clenched, like he knew something you didn’t. It wasn’t until you heard the three guys yell “FAGGOT!” at you, while throwing more wet sand in your direction. 

You froze in place. Namjoon on the other hand, quickly took your hand and guided you over to the lifeguard to report them. 

Not once has anyone ever said anything like that to you, or at least you thought. While the lifeguard was talking to your classmates, Namjoon helped you get the sand from your hair and off of you (Thankfully the hit to the chest was easy to get off due to your decision to wear a shirt). As he helped, he confessed that there were rumors going around of you being gay. Apparently you dressing in baggy and masculine clothing and not showing off your body meant you weren’t interested in the opposite sex; and what set them off today was you wearing a swim trunks and a shirt instead of a bikini was the last straw and lead those boys to throw sand at you and call you slurs. 

The accusation of you being gay confused you though, you’ve never once thought of or tried to be romantic with a girl. Only guys. But to put it even more specifically Namjoon.

You slowly realized to yourself that you had feelings for Namjoon. Like an idiot, you kept your feelings to yourself and pretended you weren’t affected when girls would openly flirt with him right in front of you. Thankfully, Namjoon was clueless and didn’t always understand when those girls would suddenly walk away a bit frustrated. 

The following school day Namjoon pressured you to report them to the office because despite you not even being gay, it still put you at risk and was an attempted hate crime. But it was nearly the end of the year and you didn’t want any more drama than what was needed. So Namjoon shut his mouth but whenever the two of you passed by those guys again, you could feel the hatred radiate from his body as he glared at them.

The day of your graduation, you were verging on a panic attack. Your parents wanted you to wear something feminine under your gown so they surprised you with a floral patterned dress that admittedly was pretty, but soon as you put it on you wanted to scream and cry. You had to ditch your normal sports bra for a pushup, the underwire digging into your skin and the presence of your chest just made you want to scream and cry. The dress hugged your torso, showing off every curve of your body and you just wanted to throw up. Makeup was caked on your face and your hair felt heavy on your head.

This. This was the reason why you hated dressing feminine. You hated your body. It wasn’t the fact that you thought you looked ugly, you just hated looking- hated feeling feminine. More often than not, you’d just look at Namjoon along with any other guy and just have this craving of wanting to look like that. Broad shoulders, masculine features. It wasn’t purely fashion, it was looking like them.

A knock was on your door, with tears in your eyes you said “Come in” and the look on Namjoon’s face will haunt you for the rest of your life. He saw the look in your eyes, how uncomfortable you felt looking all dolled up. Immediately he pulled you into a hug and you just cried into his arms, completely disregarding the fact you’re probably ruining his nice shirt. 

“What’s going on?” He asked, rubbing soothing circles onto your back.

“J-just, I hate looking like this! I feel wrong!” You clung onto his shirt tighter as you sobbed. “I’m not happy!”

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” He pulled away from you, one of his large palms went to your face to wipe away your tears. “Do you want me to sneak you a change of clothes?”

You nodded and just like that, Namjoon was raiding your closet for your nice button up and trousers. He neatly folded them and put them in a spare backpack, alongside your pair of dark sneakers to replace the baby heels you were wearing.. You watched as he put the bag over his shoulder and took your hand and led you to the bathroom. He wiped away the remaining makeup off your face. Deeming you done, he took you downstairs where your parents were a bit upset that you took off the makeup before photos but they were happy nonetheless of you wearing the dress. When Namjoon was questioned about the backpack, he just said it was some stuff that he wanted to give to his teachers before the ceremony.

Soon as you arrived at the school to get ready for the ceremony, Namjoon tugged you in the direction of the bathrooms and gave you the backpack. You gave him a weak smile and slid into the bathroom and into a stall. You hung up the gown on the stall door before you peeled the dress off your body, quickly stuffing it into the backpack and pulled out the pants. You instantly sighed, feeling relieved to no longer be feeling trapped. With your belt fastened, you reached in and grabbed the sports bra. Squeezing your eyes shut, you took off the pushup bra and let it fall to the ground. Without making any fast movements, you pulled down the sports bra. You quickly grabbed the white dress shirt and buttoned it fast as you could. 

All traces of the dress that you wore were now in the backpack, save for the heels. Leaning against the wall, you removed the shoes and slid on the sneakers. You opened the stall door and took a good look at yourself in the mirror. This was you. Minus the hair though, you wanted your hair cut short for a while now but that was something your parents would never agree to while you lived in their house. Which made going away to college all the more reason to look forward to. You quickly undid the fancy braids your mother spent an hour on doing and tied it back into a ponytail.

The graduation ceremony went on as planned until the very end when your mom and dad say you were no longer wearing the dress they gave you. When you got home, you certainly got an earful from your mother about how upset they were at looking forward for their daughter to be dressed so nice. But each word just hits you with a ton of bricks, hurting you more and more. When they were done, you stood up and ran out the door to the Kim family household. 

There Namjoon just held you for a few hours while you cried. Soon enough the tears stopped flowing, and it was just the two of you in his room while his computer played ambient music. It was there that in your post breakdown state that you stare at Namjoon. Watching him as he watches you. Like a man with nothing left to lose, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

He freezes. 

You immediately want to curl up and die. You shouldn’t have done that. 

“Why did you do that?”

“It was nothing. . .ignore that. . .sorry.” You quickly shut your mouth and hide your face in his chest.

“Look at me.” You followed his instruction and the look in his eyes was pleading. “Please don’t mess with my feelings. I don’t know if I can take another heartbreak.”

“Feelings?” You asked him.

“Yes, feelings. . . I know this probably isn’t the right time but I like you. I have for a while now. I just never said anything because you never seemed interested in me.” In the dim lighting of his room, you can tell his cheeks are red and you slap him on the chest. “Ow! What was that for?!”

“You idiot, I like you too!” You watched as the look on his face transformed from confusion to one of love, pure and absolute love. 

He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “Then, you wouldn’t mind going on a date then?”

“I’d love that!”

So the two of you date, thank goodness the both of you got into the same university so when school started it made the transition easier. 

One of the first things you told Namjoon you wanted to do as soon as you moved out and into the dorms, was cut your hair short. With your loyal boyfriend in tow, you made your way to a hair salon where you showed her a picture of a short hair style you like and while the stylist is hesitant to cut off your “long beautiful hair”, she eventually got around her hesitation with a large tip from Namjoon’s pocket. 

With your new look, you felt happier than ever. But didn’t mean you didn’t elicit some stares from other people as you held hands and shared small kisses; because before certain people would stare at you for dressing like a guy. But now admittedly, you look like a guy and you’re sharing public displays of affection with another guy. But it was whatever, you and Namjoon loved each other and that’s what mattered.

However when you came back for winter break, you were met with scrutiny by your family. They said you were a disappointment and that “No daughter of theirs will be a dyke.” The insult had your head reeling. At home, you were seen as a lesbian even though you were in fact dating a man. But at college, you were seen as a gay man, but you weren’t. . . were you? 

You were glad that you decided to stay with Namjoon and his family over the break because you knew you wouldn't have lasted at your parents’ home, especially after the greeting they gave you.

You sat on the bed as you watched Namjoon sit at his computer and type away, working on an assignment for the winter semester no doubt. You watched him and the more you watched him, the more features you realized you wanted to have. His jawline, his large hands, his height. Everything you wanted, he had. You loved him for each and every one of those things, yet you couldn’t help but also want those parts on your body. 

You remember looking up what was wrong with you a few times in high school and each time you searched it you got the same answer: transgender. But you denied it, you pushed yourself away from that answer. That couldn’t be it. It couldn’t. You were just having some insecurity issues, that’s all. But as the more time passed, the more you realized. Maybe you weren’t a girl. Maybe you were-

“I’m a guy.” You blurted out.

Namjoon stopped typing and turned to look at you. “What did you say, baby?”

“I-I’m a guy.” You felt tears prick at your eyes again. “Everyone keeps calling me a girl and I’m not.” Your voice starts to waver as you pull your legs in close and hug them. 

Namjoon just sits there and stares at you, taking in the information. He had his suspicions but with you actually saying it, really made it real. With the initial shock gone, he’s by your side in a moment. His arms wrap around you and pull you onto his lap. “Shh, it’s okay.” he tells you as he traces mindless patterns along your arms.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Just, I can’t take it any longer! I tried to deny it but it just hurt me even more! I’m sorry!” You cried loudly into his shoulder, once the tears started they couldn’t stop. 

“Shh, you have nothing to be sorry about.” Namjoon pressed a kiss to your forehead. “It’s alright baby, I’m here for you.”

You cried, and cried, until you eventually passed out from exhaustion from crying so much. You woke up with eyes crusted shut and an empty bed. Rubbing away the sleep from your eyes, you saw that Namjoon was back on his computer, busy at work. 

“Are you finishing your homework?” You ask, voice groggy from the combination of the sobbing and sleep.

“Hmm? Oh, no. This is research.” He answered.

“Research for. . . ?”

“Research for you,” he turned in his chair to face you. “I’m gonna help you find resources for you to use when we get back to the university.”

You blink at him. While you knew in your heart your Joonie would accept you, you never knew it would be to this degree. But on top of that, the news that your girlfriend is actually your boyfriend usually is pretty startling.

“So. . .” You start.

“So. . . ?” Namjoon echoed, confused by your state.

“You’re not going to break up with me?” The question has Namjoon’s eyebrows shooting into his hairline. 

“Why would I break up with you?!” He’s absolutely shocked that you’d even say such a thing.

“I don’t know. . . you’ve never shown an interest in guys so the fact your girlfriend is actually-”

“Baby, don’t. I love you for you. Your body doesn’t matter to me, you do.” He reaches out and cups your cheek. “I will be the best boyfriend for you. No matter what.”

And thus your transition began. The entire rest of winter break, the two of you did research on healthcare, legal processes, and looked up quite a fair share of stories that other transgender folk shared online that really helped solidify a plan. 

Firstly, Namjoon ordered you a binder. In his words they were the safest ways of binding your chest to look flat. Which was something you desperately wanted, despite the fact you wore sports bras all day everyday, they still showed bits of support that you did not want or need. 

Then he helped you find a transgender group to join and talk to, as well as a therapist that’ll help with your trasnition and your own mental health (“I don’t know the best ways to help you, I can learn, but I’m not going to be able to fully understand. So I found these people for you to help in areas I know I can’t help”).

All that mattered now was a name. Your birth name wasn’t going to cut it anymore. You needed a new name. You looked through shows and books, hell, even baby name sites. Namjoon gave you the idea to test out new names at coffee shops to try and get the hang of it but no name suited you until. 

“Y/N.” You said to Namjoon the day before classes were due to start. 

“Y/N . . .” he mused for a second, trying the name out on his tongue. “I like it, it suits you.”

You gave him a big smile and pressed a wet kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Of course, baby. Anytime. Remember to email the school and your therapist about it!” He instructed, looking at your sternly. 

“Okay, dad!” You rolled your eyes sarcastically at him.

“Oooh, don’t use that tone of voice with me young man!” Namjoon playfully scolded as you walked away from him.

After a few months of this, your therapist asked you about starting testosterone. Immediately you said yes and your therapist gave you a few instructions on what to do and who to call. The next day you were getting your blood drawn, and a few days later getting your first injection. When you walked back out into the waiting room where Namjoon sat patiently, when he saw the look on your face he stood up and picked you up, hugging you tightly. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered in your ear. 

Not soon after, the two of you file some paperwork to get a court date for your legal name and gender change. Took a few months of your savings to get it done but soon enough, you had a court date and a few weeks later, the court order. 

With summer vacation coming along soon, and you not wanting to go back with your parents. You and Namjoon start looking around for an apartment to share. It takes a couple tries but soon enough, the two of you find a perfect place and sign the lease as soon as you possibly can. 

At first, your apartment is just some free roadside furniture (all of it being thoroughly cleaned before entering the apartment), your desks, and a bed on the floor of your shared bedroom. Slowly as the summer continues, Namjoon’s parents help with setting you up with kitchenware and a bedroom set, alongside a TV for the two of you. You were very grateful for Namjoon’s parents to be so accepting of you both.

One day on your way home from work, you ran into your-

“Mom?” You called out to her, what was she doing outside your apartment building?

She turned around and instantly her face fell into confusion. She called out your deadname and you visibly flinched. “Darling, what are you doing? Why are you still dressing up like a boy?”

Biting your tongue, you ignore her question and ask what she’s doing here.

“Well, I came looking for you! I wanted to see how well my daughter is doing, see if she’s looking like a girl again, but I guess not.” She sighed, “I only want what’s best for you darling. And dressing like a boy and liking girls isn’t what’s best for you.”

“Mom. I don’t like girls, I like boys.” You try your best to hold back from yelling at her in public. “I’ve never once said that I liked girls or looked at girls that way. Stop assuming things about me by the way I dress, because you are far from correct.”

She simply narrowed her eyes at you. “Are you still with Namjoon or should I tell him you’re cheating on him?”

“Excuse me, what?!” You’re completely baffled by her statement. “Mom, what are you talking about? I’m not seeing anyone else besides Namjoon. I love Namjoon?”

“Are you sure you didn’t get married on the side? Because whenever I look up your name all that pops up is a Y/N court date with our last name attached to it.” She raised her eyebrow accusingly. 

“Y/N isn’t a new man. Y/N is me. Congratulations, mom. You have a son! And he’s gay. Now leave me alone!” You roll your eyes and start for the inside, to get away from your mother once and for all. 

“WHAT!?” You hear your mother yell as she storms after you. “Young lady you listen to me! You are no such thing! I won’t have it! Not in my family!”

You could feel the oncoming stares from around you. Great, she was causing a scene. “Then I guess, I’m not in your family.” You state before walking into your building, you quickly make your way over to the elevator and hold yourself in the corner as you wait for the doors to close. While you’ve distanced yourself from your family long enough, it still hurt when you now declared yourself to the entire world that you were no longer a part of their family. 

You were surprised at the fact you weren’t bursting into tears yet, maybe it was because all the past few months of therapy made it worth it or maybe it was just the testosterone. Either way, you must’ve looked mentally drained from the event as you opened the door to Namjoon asking if you were alright. After a brief recollection of the event, he gave you a quick hug. Pressing a quick kiss to your head, promising that no matter what you’re his family now. 

You were getting to that point in your transition when you hit the three Hs. Hot, hungry, and horny. The amount of cold showers you’ve taken just to soothe your aching body from the internal heat from within is astronomical. No matter how many layers you take off, you’re still boiling. It’s when Namjoon sees you on your back, completely naked spare a towel over your chest and boxers, is when he gets concerned. He buys ice packs, ice cream, and a couple fans to help cool you down when you suddenly feel like tearing off all your clothes. 

Hungry, you’ll feel as if your stomach is a blackhole and you’ll eat almost all the food in the kitchen. Namjoon’s learned to deal with it by keeping most of the snacks on high shelves, he’ll let you have free reign over whatever is in the fridge that you have to make but for regular snacks? Never let you near those unsupervised. He’s not gonna ever let go of the fact you ate all his hot cheetos in one sitting while he was out at work.

Horny was nothing new for you, you and Namjoon kept a fairly active sex life but now you were nearly unsatiably horny. You could jack off and fall asleep, only to have a sex dream and wake up even more hornier the following day. One time on your day off, you swear you spent the entire day jacking off and even when Namjoon got home, you knew you could go another few rounds. He never judged you though; even when your voice cracked when you moaned, your bottom growth, or even just getting hairier, he was there for you. No matter what the change your body went through, he was still the same man during sex.

Speaking of being there for you, this was a time when you really needed him because you apparently missed a call from your therapist about your top surgery letter. Around the time of your legal name change, your therapist asked you if you were ready for top surgery because by now you definitely qualified with your diagnosis of gender dysphoria. 

You wished Namjoon could be here, but he was out getting groceries so that just left you alone to call your therapist back. You held your breath as you heard the dial tone, after what felt like forever, your therapist picked up. What you heard, blew your mind. 

Namjoon came home that night to you bouncing up and down on the couch, squealing like a happy camper. When he asked you what was up, all you had to say was: “September.”

“No!”

“Yes! I’m getting top surgery in a matter of months!” You yelled, to which Namjoon dropped the groceries and picked you up and spun you around. 

“Baby boy, I’m so happy for you!” He cheered as the two of you spun around the apartment and fell over onto the couch. “Is this cause for celebration?” You could feel his arms trace alongside your body, he had that look in his eye. The look that had your knees buckling and your heart racing. 

“Yes I believe it is.” You muttered as you placed your hand on his jaw, pulling him in for a kiss. His hands went straight for your thighs, a safe place for him to put them. Slowly the kiss got more and more heated, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he grabbed your ass. You chuckled as he pulled your body on to his lap, he pulled away from the kiss to press more kisses down your neck and jawline. “Bedroom, now.” With that, he picked you up and took you to the bedroom, spending a lot of time making noise complaints for your neighbors. 

Soon enough, you met with your surgeon and selected a date in September as well as a type of procedure to settle on. Luckily enough, you won’t be needing drains so the issue of dealing with them has been eliminated. 

When school started up again, you made all your professors well aware of what would be going on in a few weeks so they made some quick accommodations for you and soon enough, the date arrived. 

Thankfully, you were able to have Namjoon wait with you in the waiting room and in the pre-op room. The nurses were very nice about your I.V.s and made sure you were the most comfortable you could be. When your surgeon came over and had to draw the procedure lines, Namjoon held your hand as the doctor drew over your chest. But it was all worth it because only hours later, you were in the operation room. 

Being under anesthetic is weird because one second you’re awake then you blink and you’re done. You woke up with Namjoon right beside you holding your hand, with tears in his eyes. 

“Done?”

“It’s done, baby. It’s done. We can go home soon. Just go back to sleep.” He whispered and again you were out like a light. Only to be woken up a bit later to be discharged from the hospital. With a post-surgery binder wrapped tightly around you, dressed in sweats and a flannel, you were in Namjoon’s car ready to go. You listened faintly to Namjoon’s conversation with the nurse about your pain medication and about seeing the surgeon again a week later. 

You don’t quite remember much of the drive back from the hospital, probably because you were on and off asleep the whole time but the next thing you know, Namjoon is waking you up in the parking garage. 

It takes quite a bit of effort for Namjoon to even get you out of the car, a lot of promises of ice cream and cuddles is what fully convinces you to become somewhat conscious as he helps you get from the car to your apartment. It takes a good while, but soon as you’re in, you both let out a sigh of relief. 

“Home sweet home.” Namjoon said as he led you over to the couch, “Do you want anything, Y/N? Juice? Water? Snack?”

“Hmmm, wan’ you, Joonie.” You raised your arms at your elbows and made grabby hands, which got a good chuckle out of him.

“Baby boy, you wanna go back to sleep?” He asked you, ruffling your hair. You give a nod and he just sighs. He helps you back up to your feet and leads you to the bedroom where he lays you carefully on your back. 

“Cuddle me, Joonie,” you muttered and Namjoon just sighs, giving into your half asleep antics to cuddle. He lays down on the other side of you, putting a hand over your stomach and kissing the side of your face. You fall asleep soon after that and Namjoon quickly follows.

By the time he wakes up however, you are nowhere to be seen and that sends a world of concern around him. You can’t reach very high, what if you tried grabbing the good snacks from the top shelf and pulled a stitch? What if you were still loopy and walked right out the front door? What if-

Namjoon’s concerns are quickly thrown out the door when he hears sniffling coming from the bathroom door. Jumping to his feet, he opens the door to see you with teary eyes for the first time since you’ve started testosterone. He looks down and sees you removed the post-surgery binder and pulled back the wrappings to see the fresh thin scars that go across your chest. He looks back up to you and you’re full on crying now, “I-I don’t even know what to say. I-I’m just so happy.”

The look in your eyes says it all. He sees a look in your eyes that he barely recognizes in the past 5 years he’s known you. It’s the look of pure and unadulterated happiness. Sure he’s seen you happy, but never something like this. Namjoon starts to feel the tears prickle in his eyes and he hears you laugh at him. 

“Shut up, I’m happy for you alright.” He quickly tries to wipe the evidence of tears from his eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You laughed at him and just continued to look at yourself in the mirror, your hand barely ghosting over your chest. Right now it looks battered and bruised, your nipples also don’t look too great at the moment. But that will all heal and go away soon. You finally felt like yourself more than ever. 

Namjoon just watched you from the door frame. He watched as you laughed still in disbelief that you can finally be comfortable in your own body. The ring he bought a few months ago is currently burning a hole in his jeans, but now is not that moment. Right now, it’s your moment. A moment for you to finally love yourself.

[onceinsomniac]

Snapshots Of Her Life Part 10

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 11

Jennie was 20 years old when she finally accepted that the anger would never truly fade away...

Jennie sighted as the alarm clock on her nightstand started going off. She turned over and buried her head in her pillow, wishing the sound away. It had been another long, sleepless night and Jennie was not ready to start her day. She heard her room door slamming against the wall as her pissed off roommate stormed in. “Seriously Jennie? Again? How many times do I have to ask you to turn your alarm clock off before it wakes up everyone else in the dorm?” she seethed, as she furiously pressed the off button on the alarm. Jennie ignored her, as she always did.

Jisoo stared down at Jennie’s form, still laying below her blanket, before seeing she would get no reply. She felt her anger seep away to be replaced by pity. “You can’t keep going like this. Something’s going to have to change eventually”, she told her, her voice much softer than before. She turned on her feet and left the room.

Jennie had to stop herself from going after her and starting a shouting match, which was her go to nowadays. Deep down, she knew Jisoo was right. It wasn’t fair what she was doing. To herself or to others. Especially to Jisoo who had been unbelievably kind and understanding ever since she had first arrived there. It had been almost half a year since she first arrived at NYU, ready for a fresh start. Her mom had wanted her to study somewhere closer to home but Jennie had insisted on continuing with her and Lisa's plans of moving to New York. She felt she owed her that.

She was starting to wonder if maybe her mom had been right after all. Maybe she wasn’t ready. When she had first moved into her new dorm, Jisoo had already been there, waiting to greet her new roommate. She had been so cheerful and outgoing and funny and Jennie had immediately liked her, her sense of humor reminding her of Lisa. She remembered looking forward to getting to know her better only to be overtaken by a strong sense of guilt and anger. How could she be thinking about having fun and making new friends when Lisa would never be able to do any of those things again?

She knew it didn’t make sense. Lisa would have wanted her to move on, to be happy but every time she started to do so, the memory of her would come to the forefront of her mind and she would start thinking about how Lisa should be there by her side, experiencing all these things with her. Knowing that would never happen just made her angry at the world and she would take her anger out on anyone around. It was like an endless cycle and Jennie could see no way out.

She had accepted that she would simply spend the four years of college waking up, going to her classes and going back to her dorm, her temper making it impossible for her to truly make friends. She’d tried multiple times but she always ended up pushing them away when the guilt inevitably rolled around and her angry outbursts started. She would go from feeling happy and laughing to wanting to slam her fist against the nearest surface, skin burning at the injustice of the world. She had eventually come to the decision that isolating herself would be the best option for everyone.

It had taken almost four months of Jennie’s constant refusals before Jisoo had finally given up on her and stopped inviting her to hang out or go places. She knew something must have happened to her roommate and wanted to be there for her but didn’t know how to.

Jennie didn’t know what to do. After months of talking to no one besides the daily calls with her mother, she was drowning in loneliness. She looked at her classmates laughing and talking with their friends and longed to be there with them. But another part of her hated them for being so happy. She wanted all of them to be as miserable as her. It felt wrong to her that the world should keep turning without Lisa in it.

She looked at the clock and sighted when she saw she had been laying around for half an hour already and her class had already started. She knew she should be scrambling around, gathering her things and running off to the building her class was in, but she just didn’t have it in her to care. She didn’t seem to care for much anymore. She stood up and lazily made her way to her closet, throwing on the first pair of jeans and t-shirt she saw before grabbing her bag and making her way out the dorm building.

She walked towards the main building where her sociology class was located. It was a quick, five-minute walk and before long, she was standing outside the classroom door. She quietly opened the door and sat at the closest seat available, ignoring the looks her classmates and professor were shooting her, as she arrived late once again. Ms. Ha , her professor, gazed at her for a moment longer before returning to her previous lecture.

Jennie watched as everyone around her wrote down notes but she just couldn’t be bothered to. She stared at the clock that hung on the wall as she waited for the class to end, wanting to be back in her bed. After what seemed like eternity, Ms. Ha finally reached the end of her lecture and dismissed the class. “I’ll see you all tomorrow. Ms. Kim, please stay behind.”

Jennie bit back her urge to roll her eyes at the request. She made her way down the stairs and stood by his desk, waiting as he stood by the door and waved goodbye at every student as they left. Once the last student was gone, Ms. Ha walked back to her desk. She sat down on top of it and looked at her, a pensive expression on her face. “Jennie, I’m going to be frank with you”, she said, dropping all formalities. “You’re constantly late to class, you never seem to pay attention, and you have at least two papers that are overdue. If you don’t change things around soon, you probably won’t be here next semester.”

Jennie didn’t care about what she was saying until he got to the last part. Panic started to fill her at the idea of being kicked out. This was the school she had chosen alongside Lisa. The school they had applied to together. It felt like an insult to her memory for Jennie to throw their dream away. She nodded her acknowledgement at her words before making her way to the door, clenching her fists as the idea of being kicked out lingered in her mind. She knew she was just trying to help her but that didn’t make any difference as the familiar anger drummed beneath her skin, itching to get out.

She had to get back to her room before she did something she’d regret later. She decided to leave the building using the back way, which led to a barely used parking lot, as almost no one came that way and she didn’t want to see anyone. Her wish, however, went unanswered as she was just leaving the building when she saw it.

Jisoo was leaning against a car with a guy she recognized from her high school leaning over her. She didn’t know his name, as he had been two years younger than her and she had only seen him in the hallway. Since NYU had a large campus and Jennie barely left her room, she didn’t see him often but whenever she did, she did her best to avoid him, not wanting anything to do with anyone from her hometown.

She started to leave but something about the way Jisoo was leaning back, as if trying to create space between them both, caught Jennie’s attention. She wanted nothing more than to rush back to her dorm but something kept her standing there, watching. She was too far away to hear what they were saying but by the guy’s expression, she could tell he had heard something he didn’t want to hear.

Jisoo made a move to leave but the guy grasped her arm and shoved her back in place, with her back against the door. Jennie knew that neither of them had seen her yet and that she could probably leave before they ever realized she had been there but the scared look on Jisoo's face kept her standing there. She hesitated for a few seconds longer before quickly walking over to them, silently hoping the guy wouldn’t recognize her. She tapped the guy on his back to get his attention. “Excuse me. It seems my friend doesn’t want you here so why don’t you leave before I go get a professor”, she told him, trying to get him to leave quietly.

The guy looked Jennie up and down before smirking. “You don’t have to be jealous. You can join us if you want”. He told her while leering at her. Jennie glared at him, doing her best to push her rising anger down. “Thanks, but no thanks. You’re not my type. Or hers.” The guy didn’t respond, staring at Jennie like he was trying to place her. His eyes widened in recognition a few seconds later. “Wait a minute, I know you. You’re one of those faggot girls from high school, aren’t you? You were dating that chic who was killed.”

Jennie’s anger threatened to come rushing out at his words. She ignored Jisoo's gasp at the revelation and the blood running down her hands from where her nails had broken skin from clenching her hands into fists so tightly. She glared at him, full of hatred. “Her name was Lisa, you asshole. Now I advise you to leave before I make you”, she told him through clenched teeth. The guy didn’t seem to see the dangerous aura that surrounded Jennie as he let go of Jisoo's arm and turned to face her completely.

He smirked at her, oblivious to the red signs that were pointing at him to leave as soon as possible. “Who cares about her name. She’s gone, thanks to that poor father of hers. I can’t really blame him for what he did. I mean, she’s the one who decided to become one of them. If she had simply been normal, she would still be here.” He opened his mouth to say something else but was silenced by the almost crazy look in her eyes. It seemed like his survival instincts were still somewhat intact after all, as he started backing away. Unfortunately, it was already too late and he didn’t get far before an almost animalistic growl came out of her as she threw herself on top of him. He didn’t stand a chance as she immediately started throwing punch after punch, hitting him relentlessly, deaf to the screams that came from Jisoo, begging her to stop.

Jennie’s mind had gone blank after hearing his words and she had no recollection of what had happened but the next thing she knew, there were arms wrapped around her waist, dragging her off of the guy. Her senses came back as she grew aware of the situation once more. Jisoo was kneeling over the guy, whose face was a bloody mess. She was checking to see if he was still breathing and yelling at Jennie to call 911. Jennie gazed at the guy’s unrecognizable face in shock and then looked down at her bloody hands. She ignored Jisoo's shouts and quickly ran all the way back to her dorm building.

She stumbled into her dorm and made her way to the bathroom. She turned the faucet on and started washing her hands aggressively, desperate to wash away the blood. She stood there for almost 15 minutes, long after the blood had gone down the drain, trying to eliminate the ghost feeling of it coating her hands. She looked up and saw her reflection in the mirror for the first time and she almost gasped at the sight of it.

Blood had splattered up and had now dried on her face. But that wasn’t the thing that shocked her. It was the look in her eyes. The eyes that were staring back at her were those of a stranger. It scared her to realize that if Jisoo hadn’t been there, she wouldn’t have stopped. She hadn’t just wanted to hurt him; she’d wanted to kill him. The sight of his blood had made her want to draw out more. Because, somewhere in her messed-up mind, the guy’s face had started to look like Lisa's father and like every other person in their small-minded town that had spent years judging and hating them.

She’d spent years biting her tongue back and allowing other people’s opinions to simply wash over her, but hearing him speak so callously of Lisa had made her lose control in a way she never had before. She washed the blood of her face before making her way to her room and sitting down on her bed, still in a daze after what had happened.

Seeing what she had done made her realize that maybe this anger had been a part of her for a lot longer than she had first thought. Maybe it had been buried deep inside her ever since she moved to a small town full of close minded, ignorant people, and it had slowly been growing little by little as she and Lisa were belittled and ignored year after year, treated like criminals and outcasts just because they had dared to love each other. Being made to feel like they had committed the biggest sin just for being themselves. Watching their friends leave them, one after another until they only had each other left. Maybe the anger was the result of all those years of hate and she hadn’t realized it before because she had always had Lisa there. Lisa who was so full of love and laughter that the anger had been kept buried deep down. And now that she was gone, it had come running to the surface, much stronger than ever before.

It truly scared her, knowing what she was capable of. She hated the person she had become. The person who didn’t care about anything or anyone and had a vicious streak. The person who liked to hurt people. But the worst thing was that she knew Lisa would have hated that person too.

The incident finally made her realize that she couldn’t go on living like this. She hated to admit it but she knew she needed help. She thought she could cope alone but she couldn’t. Not if she didn’t want to end up alone for the rest of her life. The realization made her start to cry and she buried her face in her hands as sobs wracked her body, washing away the numbness that had surrounded her for so long.

That was how Jisoo found her a few hours later when she entered Jennie’s room. She stood in the door for a few seconds, shocked at seeing her usually callous roommate crying her eyes out. She hadn’t known what to expect but it certainly hadn’t been this. She stared at her for a few seconds before rushing in, sitting down next to her on the bed and enveloping her shaking body in her arms. She stayed there and held her crying roommate until Jennie’s sobs finally came to a stop, aside from the occasional hiccup. Jennie sat up, breaking the embrace. She looked at Jisoo, embarrassed for her to have seen her in such a vulnerable position.

“What happened? Is he going to be okay?” she asked hesitantly, not sure she really wanted to know. Jisoo smiled reassuringly at her. “Don’t worry, he’s fine. He stopped breathing for a minute there and his face is definitely going to take some time to go back to how it looked but he’ll make a full recovery. I went to the hospital with him. And before you ask, you’re going to be fine too. I had a little talk with him once he woke up about how it would be a bad idea for him to go to the cops considering I could accuse him of sexual harassment considering his previous actions. Technically speaking, your actions were worse and would get you in bigger problems but he doesn’t need to know that.” She chuckled.

Jennie stared at her in disbelief. “I think you’re forgetting I’m a law student”, Jisoo clarified, mistaking her disbelief for being at how she managed to manipulate him into silence. Jennie shook her head. “Why would you do that. I mean, God knows I’ve been nothing but a bitch to you ever since we met. I thought you would have gone to the cops yourself.”

Jisoo smiled sadly at her. “I’m not stupid. I knew you’d been through something; I just didn’t know what. Hearing him talk about this Lisa girl. I’m just really sorry you had to go through that. Besides, I know you’re not a bad person. You’re just someone who’s had a lot of bad things happen to them.”

Jennie was still unconvinced. “Besides, who knows what he would have done to me. You saved me when you didn’t have to.” Jennie looked at the floor, not convinced she deserved such kindness from someone she had treated so badly. “I’m sorry. For being such a bad roommate. I’m going to try to do better from now on.”

Jisoo smiled and threw her arms around her, dragging her into a hug. It wasn’t long before she jumped up from the bed and made her way out the door, mumbling something about ice. She came back a few seconds later with two ice packs in her hand and sat back next to Jennie, taking her hands and putting them on top of her knuckles. “That’s definitely going to bruise”, she stated, her smile not leaving her face despite her bleak comment.

And Jennie couldn’t help but laugh as she remembered why Jisoo had reminded her so much of Lisa when she first met her. Except this time, instead of feeling angry, she felt closer, both to Jisoo and to Lisa.

Both girls spent the rest of the day looking up grief counselors near their area and Jisoo booked Jennie an appointment for the very next day once they found one.

-----------

The next morning, Jennie started regretting her decision but Jisoo refused to let her back out and dragged her all the way to the therapist’s office. She told her she would be waiting for her right outside before basically shoving her into the office. Jennie wasn’t at first sure that therapy was the right way to go but then she remembered the anger and hate that had pushed her to send someone to the hospital and the promise she had made to Jisoo about being better and decided to give it a try.

And she had. It hadn’t been easy but after months of constant therapy she had managed to make some progress. Whenever she felt the familiar anger thrumming beneath her skin, coming closer to the surface, she simply excused herself from the room and isolated herself before she could take her anger out on any innocent bystanders.

She started boxing and it became a great way to keep it in check, often spending hours in the gym taking her frustrations out on either her instructor or the punching bag. Meditating also became a great stress reliever. As time continued to go by, Jennie kept on finding different ways to cope and she slowly started getting back to who she was before. She opened up more to Jisoo and the two became really good friends. She introduced her to the rest of her friends and they quickly became Jennie’s friends. She started going out again and having fun, she met new people and started actually attending her classes and making plans for her future.

Her life, which had been close to hitting rock bottom, started looking up and for the first time in years, Jennie was actually happy. Nevertheless, no matter how much she laughed or hung out with her new friends. No matter whether she was having fun or was in the middle of class, the anger thrumming beneath her skin was always there, a constant companion. As much as her constant angry outburst had become a thing of the past, and as much as her friends and family believed she had completely recovered, the truth was, she had simply gotten better at controlling her anger instead of having it control her. The burning sensation of the anger rushing through her skin was a constant in her life. And it would always be.

[cilliankelly]

drown it all out || cillian & jude.

Discord thread featuring: cillian & @judetaylorhq

When: december 28th (late night)

Mentions: @robinscnfm

Description: after his conversation with ellie, cillian can’t stop thinking about his dad. he turns to jude for comfort. 

Trigger Warnings: gay slur, internalized homophobia, family trauma, injury mention(?)

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

cillian hadn’t thought about his dad in awhile. well, that wasn’t exactly true. he was always looming back there somewhere, clouding cillian’s thoughts and making him second guess himself. but the little voice had been getting smaller and smaller to the point where he couldn’t really hear it. but when ellie suggested he go to therapy, the little voice was impossible to ignore. cillian’s dad had always been very vocally against therapy, reminding everyone it was all a bunch of bullshit and a waste of time and money whenever it was recommended to him. and cillian had grown up feeling the same. and though he knew ellie was just trying to help him out, cillian felt a violent sort of anger overtake him at the suggestion. it had scared him, cillian having foolishly thought that he’d somehow managed to shake his dad for the time being. it was late, and jude was asleep, but cillian was still shaken and just really needed his best friend right now. cillian rolled over, wrapping an arm securely around jude’s middle and burying his face in his boyfriend’s neck. “jude...?” he hummed quietly, hopefully, his voice a little strained.

𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨��.

things suddenly seemed strained again and jude wasn't sure why, how or when things would go back to being fun and light between them again. not that ever had been for long ever since the first time they'd kissed. it was amazing how he could feel simultaneously the happiest he'd ever been and more miserable than ever. still, date night had been good, and after their nightly fuck jude had been content to pass out and sleep until morning. "mm..?" he hummed, still asleep as he pulled his arm around cillian, pulling him in closer, "you okay? is it your leg?" he mumbled, his eyes still closed heavily, "what's wrong, baby?"

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

cillian’s hold on jude tightened a little once he knew he was awake, glad that he was no longer alone with his thoughts. “can you just... hold me?” he asked, closing his eyes tightly and taking a breath as he tried to pull jude even closer to him. god, he was so pathetic and small and needy and weak and... get the fuck out of my house and never come back, you ungrateful faggot. cillian tore away from jude, sitting bolt upright in bed before crumbling in on himself, his head in his hands. “fuck,” he whispered under his breath, wrapping his arms tightly around himself.

𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫.

jude smiled and nodded, pulling cillian closer, nuzzling his face in cillian's neck and pressing a kiss against it, shifting so he could push his hand into cillian's pants before cillian was pulling away in a motion that woke jude up completely and he sat up, blinking in the dark a few times before he frowned, "what?" he questioned, "what did i do? is it your leg baby? talk to me." He spoke quietly, shifting closer, his hand rubbing cillian's thigh, "you okay? where does it hurt?"

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

cillian stiffened slightly when jude’s hand landed on his thigh, though he let out a breath and mentally reminded himself that this was fine, he was safe, and the touch was a comfort. he relaxed a little then, though his shoulders were still tight, and he tried to use jude as a sort of anchor to drag him down and out of his crowded headspace. “i thought... i thought it didn’t bother me, i thought...” cillian was trying to explain himself, assemble his words in some order that made sense, but he was having a difficult time doing so. he grabbed jude’s hand, lacing their fingers together and trying to remind himself again that he was safe, that this was good, that he was alright. it was something he’d done with his sister when she’d been upset or scared. he knew he wasn’t like his dad, knew he wasn’t as hateful and violent and bitter, but there were moments, when he’d say something aloud or a thought would run through his brain and he would realize with both a weird mixture of fear and misplaced satisfaction that he sounded just like his old man. “i’m not him,” he murmured, more so to himself than to jude, his eyes still shut as he gripped judes’s hand. “i’m not. i’m not i’m not i’m not.”

𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫.

jude stared at cillian, a little surprised, confused, "you..." he swallowed hard, "you're not okay with this?" he questioned, had the date been so bad that it had changed cillian's mind about all of this? about their relationship? jude sat, trying to process when cillian picked up his hand, only confusing him further. "baby, what's wrong, you're not who?" he questioned, but it didn't take a moment longer before he realized who cillian was talking about and he shifted closer, pulling cillian in and nodding, "no. you're not him." he assured cillian and kissed the top of his head, "you are my whole world. you're a good person, cil. and i love you so, so much."

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

cillian let jude pull him in, wrapping his arms around him and just breathing him in, trying to calm down. jude’s words were comforting, and though he wanted so desperately to believe them, cillian didn’t feel like a good person. what had ellie said... emotionally irresponsible? something like that. and cillian had tried to shrug it off like he always did, but it bothered him. he didn’t know why he always ran from things or shrugged them off. well, it was definitely easier to do things that way, pretending like he didn’t give a fuck about anyone or anything. but that wasn’t the truth. he actually cared a lot. and maybe, in that way at least, he really wasn’t like his dad at all. “i hate him,” he sighed, his breathing slowly becoming more even as he tried to match jude’s. and he wished with everything he had that  what he’d said was true.

𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫.

"i know." he whispered, holding cillian and leaning back, his hand moving to rub cillian's back for comfort and letting out a sigh, "what happened? did you see him?" he questioned, "did he contact you?" he added and pulling back to look down at cillian, meeting his eyes and frowning, "you don't have to see him anymore. we have our own life now, and you can be anyone you want to be. you have so much time to figure it all out, i'm gonna be right here beside you the whole time."

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

cillian felt kind of foolish getting so worked up about his dad when something as small as ellie suggesting he think about therapy had triggered it. his dad was just that deeply rooted in him that he couldn’t shake him, even over the smallest of things. for a dad who was never around, he was really overstaying his welcome. “no... no i didn’t see him, didn’t talk to him but i could...” he hesitated for a moment, feeling a little insane. “i could just hear him, you know?” he asked, uncertainly. cillian looked up at jude for the first time in a awhile and he felt overwhelmed by the sight of him, ducking him head again and burrowing into his side. “i don’t want to think about it. about him. but i just... i keep hearing him.”

𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫.

jude sighed and nodded, "i'm sorry babe." he whispered, rubbing his back again and watching cillian for a moment and trying to find something to say that would help him, but he knew that years of that sort of trauma meant there wasn't much he could do to fix things. still, he wanted to try. "then we have to replace his voice with something new. like mine when i tell you, you're a good person. and i love you. and that you can be more than you think, you can do anything."

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

cillian was quiet, though he nodded, slowly. it wasn’t going to be easy, that he knew, but if he could think about jude instead of his dad, could hear his voice reminding him that he was loved and that everything was okay... it wasn’t all that dissimilar from what cillian would try to do for his sister. there was still some uncertainty, some self doubt, but cillian thought that maybe, if jude said it enough times, it could be true. he knew it took more than that, that things didn’t just fix themselves, but for a moment, he let the thought comfort him. “i love you,” cillian sighed, looking up and pressing a kiss to jude’s jaw. “fuck, why are you so good to me?” cillian was certain that anyone else would have given up on him by now after everything he’d put jude through in just the last three months alone. but jude hadn’t.

𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫.

Jude smiled and nodded, "I am good to you because you love me. And you've always been there for me, and you're still here. Besides my gran, you are the single most constant thing in my life. And you are like...my rock. Unchanging, stubborn, and you make me laugh. And that is more than enough." He shrugged, "You know, plus you're dick is pretty good too." He teased and shifted into the bed, laying back, pulling Cillian with him, "We're gonna make it, okay? Just us, just like always. We'll get through it together."

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

even before he knew that he was in love with jude, cillian had always felt like jude was his person. the friend who would stick with him no matter what, his backup when he needed it. hell jude’s family was more of a family to cillian than his own had ever been. he hadn’t realized though, that jude felt the same way about him, that cillian had ever offered the same kind of stability and comfort that jude had offered him. cillian never felt that he was enough for anyone. but he was. he was enough for jude. and the realization made his face warm and his heart swell in his chest. and to know he wasn’t alone in this, not anymore... it was a giant weight off his shoulders. cillian let jude pull him back onto the bed, eagerly pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s neck before snuggling in close to his side and listening to him speak. “just you and me,” he agreed, a small smile forming on his lips. they were a unit, a team, an ‘us’ and a ‘we’. cillian never though that the idea would make him so happy. but he was. in spite of everything, he was really happy. “i love you,” he said, the words heavy with all of the feelings he was putting into them. “so. much.” he added, meeting jude’s eyes, squinting to see him in the dark. even blurry and up close he was hot. cillian leaned in and kissed him gently, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. it felt soft and delicate and not like them but something about it made cillian almost want to cry which, honestly kelly, when did you get this fucking soft. but it was also exactly what he needed and he sighed into the kiss, a wave of familiarity and relief crashing over him. cillian was safe. he was  loved. he was a good person. and he was home. and he was happy. he was really fucking happy. and that had everything to do with his favorite person in the entire world.

𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫.

jude grinned, "yeah, exactly baby. we can have whatever life we want." he promised, his voice gentle as he felt cillian start to relax again and rubbed his back a little while longer, "we got this. we're amazing." he added and chuckled softly, kissing cillian back, moaning against his lips gently, "i'm gonna make you really happy, you know that? like stupid happy, we're gonna be one of those stupid ass lame happy couples and not even boring." he teased, fully believing it. they already were happy in a lot of ways, if they coul only get past their own traumas, then they could really be that. happy, successful, thriving. somehow he'd make it happen. for both of them.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

“never boring,” cillian agreed, closing his eyes again as his breathing finally steadied, his heart rate returning to somewhere normal. “you already do, you know,” he said, a little sleepily, his hand coming to rest on jude’s chest. “you make me really happy.” through all of the ups, the downs, the confusion, and the uncertainty, cillian was still happier than he’d been in a long time. possibly happier than he’d ever been. and that was all because of jude. and cillian swore to himself then that he was going to be better. if not for himself then at least for jude. because he so desperately wanted them to be as happy as jude said they would be.

[1the-trash-can1]

~ Chapter 5 ~ Hit-and-Run ~

⚠Curse Word Warning⚠

----------Shoto's POV----------

I sat there and watched as Izuku's face turned unreadable. Even the expression beat my skills. But, even so, I could tell his heart shattered. The moon began coming up, leading me to believe it was past curfew. Father will be mad.

"So, y-you're b-breaking u-up with m-me?" Izuku's soft voice brought me back to reality, along with his red, puffy, tear-stained face.

"I-. Yes. I-I am, Izuku. I really am," I gently pull his hand into mine, "This is what's best for both of us. It'd turn into a one-sided relationship, and no one wants that." Izuku looks back up from the sand and stares at me.

"It's not the best for me. You'll only have your interest in heart about these kinds of things, so I understand. Even if being without you will ruin my heart, at least yours will be better." With tears streaming down his face, he pulls his hand from mine and begins to walk away from me, "I guess this is goodbye for good, Todoroki. I'll always love you."

'Todoroki...'

~~~~~Time Skip~~~~~

Reaching the front step of home, I hesitantly reach for the handle, only for it to open.

"Shouto Todoroki. It's far past curfew." My father's voice echoes in the silence of the night, "What were you doing out so late."

"I was at the beach doing extra training. I lost track of time and got here too late." I tell a half-truth. I was at the beach, just not training.

"Never, go against curfew again." He points to the stairs.

'No dinner this time, huh'

----------Izuku's POV----------

I look back one last time, "I guess this is goodbye for good, Todoroki. I'll always love you." As his name rolls off my tongue, it feels unnatural, almost.

I'm used to him being Sho. It's a habit I'll try to break. I look up and stop dead in my tracks,

"M-mom?"

----------Denki's POV----------

_____Flash__Back_____

"D-dad. Could you help me?" I ask timidly, this is one of the few times my dad actually is sober. So, I'll embrace it.

"Yes?" My dad speaks with a heavy sigh.

"It's Calc, math isn't my strong suit. I haven't exactly gotten caught up from the week I've missed."

"Yeah, c'mere" For the first time in a while, we had a genuine conversation.

"How's soccer?" My dad questions.

"Oh! Well, I made varsity, it's rare for a Freshmen to make it so I was really excited. They are considering me for the captain spot!" I exclaim.

"Well, those are quite the achievements. I'll have to come by and see one of your games, ey?" My dad throws me a bright smile.

"Yeah, definitely!" I flash him one back, but he quickly becomes a smug smirk.

"Any girls?" His smirk never falters. But, I, on the other hand, is nervous as heck. I'm gay. Maybe I should come out now, while he's sober.

"U-um, dad, actually I don't... like g-girls." His face falls mad and a fist is slammed on the table, with enough force to break it.

"I will not have a gay faggot as a fucking son. Pull your shit together. You. Don't. Like. Boys." He breathes out a heavy sigh. "Now go to your bedroom and don't come out. I'll wake you up tomorrow, but for now, upstairs is where you'll be staying. Got that?" His glare says million unspoken words. All of which shouldn't be spoken.

"Yes, sir." I nod my head and walk up the steps. Towards my room. My dad's heavy footsteps follow once my door is shut. But I begin to calm down. Because one thing I know about my dad is,

'He'll get drunk, and forget about it anyway'

_____Present_____

"Denks?" I hear my cousin call out to me, also walking in on me attempting to cover my bruises.

"Uhm. Give me a sec Addie. I'll be right out." I attempt to reason her not to walk in. But, before I could say anymore, my father walks in, with my diary.

"So, 'Denks', why, the hell, is 'I'm gay' written all over the pages. Didn't even have to be written straight. Just mentions of previous crushes on guys. Even better, senior guys." He punches me square in the nose, the look on Addie's face after it cracked was terrifying.

'Poor little girl... she must be so scared'

I look back up to see his smile, but no laugh is given as usual. So, I talk back, aware of the consequences.

"Well, as you said, 'I won't have a gay faggot as a son.' So I'll go. You'll never have to see me again. Y'know what? I'll take Addison with me." I take a slight breath and look over at my little cousin. "Because I'm more worried about her than me." Finishing my point I look up at my dad's face.

His eyes are aimed toward his shoes, and his small smile has faded, and been replaced with a tiny frown only the keenest of the eye could see. We stand for what feels like forever before I storm back out of the bathroom. Ignoring the growing pains in my face and back from the night before.

While on my way I grab Addison as well, picking up my phone in hopes that one of my friends will offer me a place to stay for now...

'Katsuki'

----------Hanta's POV----------

"Izu? What ya doin' in Musutafu." I ask Izuku as we both walk along the sidewalk.

"My dad dragged me out here, forcefully. I'm currently lost, I have nowhere to go, and at this point, no one to go to." He states sadly.

"Well I'll always be here, and hey, if you need to couch jump, I got first to call!" I nudge him in the shoulder as he chuckles, but it fades his face turns serious.

"Hanta. I'm worried. It's my mom, and I think my dad caught up too her." His face is distraught. It fills me with worry as well,

'Was this a hit-and-run?’

|| Word Count || ~~ 1018 ||

[morkhan]

Will Byers is Gay: The Evidence So Far

With the release of Stranger Things 3, there has been a lot of discussion kicked up about the character of Will Byers and his sexuality (or lack thereof). I've seen a lot of takes about what "it's not my fault you don't like girls" was intended to mean, many of which seem to take it in isolation, so I wanted to make a post putting it into what I think is its proper context; not an isolated incident, but the latest carriage in veritable train of queer themed language and imagery that has followed Will Byers since episode one of season one, and before that. You ready? Alright, let's go.

Season Zero: the Montauk Files

Before Stranger Things became Stranger Things, it was called Montauk. Like many would-be show makers, the Duffer Bros put together a "show bible" describing the premise, setting, tone, and characters of the show they intended to make. Like many shows, a lot of these ideas changed or were lost on their way to the screen, but it's always worth looking into their original concepts. Here is their description of Will Byers in the Montauk show bible:

Obviously, the major whammy there is in the first line "sexual identity issues." But there are some other interesting notes, like his "colorful clothes" that you might want to keep a lookout for on your next rewatch. Now, onto...

Season 1

The thing to pay attention to regarding Will in season 1 is in the language used to refer to him when he is not present (which he isn't for most of the season).

Episode 1: the subject of bullying comes up right away in the conversation between Joyce and Hopper. "The kids, they're mean. They laugh at him, laugh at his clothes, call him names." "What's wrong with his clothes?" "I don't know!" This harkens back to the Montauk show bible, but it's arguable, since it's never made clear what about his clothes draws ire.

She also mentions that he is "sensitive," "not like most," and that his dad said he was "queer" and called him a "fag." Hopper asks "is he?" to which she replies "He's missing is what he is!"

Episode 3: Troy says he's not missing, he's dead. "Probably killed by some other queer."

Episode 4: Troy, again "Will's in fairyland, flying around with all the other little fairies, all happy and gay."

Sensitive, queer, fag, fairy, and gay are all used to describe Will in season 1, but perhaps more notable is the fact that they aren't used to describe anyone else. If the show were truly period accurate, let's be real; the whole party would've been called queers on a pretty regular basis, because "queer" doubled as a generic insult back then. But in season 1, these words are only ever used in relation to Will, with one exception; in episode 6, Steve says to Will's brother, "I used to think you were queer." So it's not even an active accusation in that moment; it's used in the negative.

Hell, Troy walked up to Lucas mockingly proposing to Mike and proclaiming his love for him, and he still didn't call them queers. That language is reserved for Will.

Now granted, most of these are used as insults by characters who don't like Will, but still; as a writer, if you want your audience to remember something, repetition is an excellent way to embed it in their minds. There's a reason for the specificity of language surrounding Will, and a reason that language keeps coming up over and over and over again.

Season 2

Season 2 retires much of the homophobic language used to insult Will, replacing it with "Zombie Boy." The only homophobic language used in season 2 is the word "faggot," used by Billy's father to refer to Billy, who expresses a clear interest in women (and an arguable interest in one particular man, but that's the subject of another post).

Still, there is an arguable bit of queer theming in Will's conversation with Jonathan regarding the benefits of being a "freak" and how normal people never accomplish anything. Jonathan even invokes bisexual icon David Bowie to make Will feel better about his "freakishness."

The clearest piece of queer theming for Will in season 2 comes in episode 8, in this beautiful speech from Joyce to Possessed Will:

"When you turned eight, I gave you that huge box of crayons, do you remember that? It was 120 colors. And all your friends got you Star Wars toys, but all you wanted to do was draw with all your new colors. And you drew this big spaceship, but it wasn't from a movie. It was YOUR spaceship; a RAINBOW Ship, that's what you called it. And you, you must have used every color in the box. I took that with me to Melvald's, and I put it up. I told everyone who came in, 'My son drew this.' And you were so embarrassed, but I was so proud. I was so, so proud."

This is one of the most powerful memories of her son that Joyce has, an image so strong and distinct that she uses it to invoke his true identity against the monster that is slowly subsuming him. She notes very specifically that it's not something he copied, but something that came entirely from Will himself, an image that she felt represented him so perfectly that she took it with her to work and proudly touted it as his to everyone she knew. The Rainbow Ship is Joyce's picture of her son's very heart, and surely I don't need to explain to you how powerful a piece of queer imagery the rainbow is.

Some subtextual stuff; in episode 9, when the girl asks Will to dance, he stammers "I... I don't..." and only goes to dance with her when Mike literally pushes him towards her.

During the final montage, the scene cuts to different characters in time with appropriate lines from the song: "every move you make" cuts to Mike and El (as he is teaching her to dance), "every vow you break" cuts to Nancy dancing with Dustin (as she technically cheated on Steve with Jonathan), "I'll be watching you" cuts to Lucas dancing with Max (as she has playfully called him 'stalker' all season). What line cuts to Will? "Every smile you fake," specifically on the word fake, while Will dances with a girl wearing this expression:

That is not a real smile, that is not a comfortable boy, and that is not an accident; Noah Schnapp is one of the best actors in the entire show, and of the young boys, he is the one the Duffers trust most to do dramatic heavy lifting.

Do you want it to be a little more explicit? Okay, here is that scene in the script:

I mean, that pretty much speaks for itself. It's less explicit in the actual show, but it's still there, you know?

Season 3

And now, the biggest and most explicit thing to date; The Scene. I mean, you could discuss the obvious subtext in the simple fact that Will is the only male main character who has yet to find a girlfriend or express any interest in girls whatsoever, but that pales in comparison to The Scene.

The setup for The Scene is pretty simple; after declaring "a day free of girls" in order to get his friends to run the D&D campaign he's probably spent a significant amount of time creating, his friends have blown him off to continue bemoaning their girl troubles, so Will has decided to leave. Mike, realizing too late that he has genuinely upset his friend, chases after him to try and get him to come back.

A back-and-forth argument ensues, where Will accuses Mike of ruining the party and abandoning his friends in favor of girls, and Mike, in the heat of the moment, responds with "It's not my fault you don't like girls!" After which, everything stops. There is a full second of silence, and a close up on Noah Schnapp's face so you can take in his reaction.

There is a lot to unpack here. Now, acting is up to interpretation to a degree, but to me, that expression conveys two primary emotions; shock, and betrayal. That face says "how could you?" Because here's the thing; regardless of what Mike does or doesn't know about Will's sexuality, Mike knows for a fact that Will has been called a queer all his life by everyone from his school bullies to his own fucking dirtbag father. By invoking even the specter of that, Mike has crossed a fucking line, and he knows it. And we know he knows it, because he immediately backtracks and tries to mitigate the damage. But it's too late. The damage has been done.

I also think there is a tinge of fear in that image. Just a moment of soul raking panic that pretty much every closeted queer person knows intimately. It's very brief. But I think it's there, if you look.

This scene sends Will into an emotional tailspin that culminates in him tearing down the literal last bastion of his childhood in a fit of sorrow and rage. His innocence has been destroyed. He cannot regain what he has lost, and he can never go back to the way things were before. This is the emotional climax of his arc for season three. It's a powerful one-- shame it comes in the third of eight episodes, but that's neither here nor there.

And that's pretty much it for now. Any one of these things taken in isolation could be very easily dismissed, but here's the thing; they aren't isolated incidents. They are part of a clear and consistent pattern, one that goes all the way back to the show's inception, before even one minute of footage was filmed. And this pattern points to one very obvious conclusion; the Duffer Brothers have always intended, and continue to intend, for Will Byers to be gay.

Now, for the obvious question; why haven't they made it explicit yet?

The answer is as unfortunate as it is obvious; I don't know.

It's entirely possible that there is some external force that the Duffers have to answer to that is preventing them from actively pursuing this particular storyline. This happens all the time in Hollywood, and it could be anything from Netflix to Noah Schnapp's parents to Noah Schnapp himself just being uncomfortable with it. Many are the creators who dream Big Gay Dreams only to run into the horrors of our Forced Hetero Reality. If the Duffers ultimately submit to these pressures, I hope you won't be too hard on them. This shit is harder than you think to get to the screen sometimes.

But it's also possible that they just aren't ready for it yet. That they have been saving this for a future storyline, that they just want their characters (and the actors) to get a little older before they pursue this particular storyline explicitly, but they've been busily laying groundwork for it so that anyone paying attention will know it's coming.

I don't know. Only time will tell for sure.

For now, I can tell you this; I see a great deal of evidence that the Duffers still intend for Will to be gay, and precisely zero that they have changed their minds.

I hope that holds true.

[violetnuisance]

A Spark

The Pure Attract The Toxic - Chapter 2

a/n: I-I finally did it. Things start to get explicit in this one. Here’s the link if you’d rather read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20988461/chapters/49910162

I dunno if my “read more” is working on mobile, but let’s pray

[[MORE]]

Travis could feel his pulse pounding in his ears as his hands tightened their grip around the strap of his messenger bag. Despite the dread filling his lungs, his eyes narrowed on his target. The mane of frizzy brown hair towered over the other students who sat at their respective tables eating lunch, making it easy to spot Larry from a mile away. The blond marched onwards, forgoing his own lunch. His stomach had been in turmoil all day, too nervous to digest anything. It wasn't until brown eyes snapped up to meet his that Travis paused for a second, losing his bravery.

Larry’s eyes narrowed as they caught Travis’s, and the blond swallowed. The look of intense displeasure crossing the brunet’s face was a stark contrast to the chaotic energy he exuded just the day prior. As Larry looked away from Travis for a second and excused himself from his lunch table, the blond could all but feel the annoyance radiating from the other. He continued to stand still, waiting for his death sentence as Larry approached him. The taller male’s hands were dug in his pockets and shoulders hunched as he glared down Travis.

“Come on,” Larry barked out as he grabbed Travis’s arm. The blond stumbled backwards, balance briefly knocked, causing Larry to only tighten his grip. “Without making a fucking scene.”

“You’re the one dragging me out of the cafeteria,” Travis huffed, letting him be pulled through the double doors and back out into the hallway. Larry’s bruising grip on him only lessened when the brunet scanned the area and found no wandering students.

“I wouldn’t have to drag you anywhere if you’d just stay away from me and my friends,” Larry retaliated. Travis felt his face redden as his temper rose. He jerked his arm completely out of the other’s hand, earning a huff from the metalhead.

“If I recall correctly, you were the one following me around yesterday,” the blond seethed. Larry’s gaze darkened and a snarky laugh pushed its way up his throat. Travis felt his temper drop to be replaced by fear as the taller male took a step towards him. Mouth suddenly feeling too dry, Travis took a step back.

“Don’t get so full of yourself,” Larry chastised, voice dropping to a low growl. The deep octave made the hair on the back of Travis’s neck stand up. “Just because I wanted to toy with you yesterday doesn’t mean we’re buddies or that I want you anywhere near my friends.”

Travis’s mouth worked for a second, trying to push words out, but his brain failed to find a snappy comeback quick enough. Larry rolled his eyes as the awkward silence grew between them until the blond wished it would have the mercy to suffocate him. He found himself staring dumbly at the taller male’s chest, feeling akin to a toddler who had just gotten chastised. No, he never would’ve considered him and Larry friends, but he didn't think it’d be quite this difficult to get the other’s acquaintanceship at least.

“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” Travis chose to say. Larry crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight to a side, obviously not believing the admission. “I was just going to invite you to a church service.”

“Why in the absolute fuck would I want to go to your church?” As if they were in a comic or animated show, Travis swore he could see Larry’s eyes visibly twitching, ready to deck the blond.Travis felt himself become hyper aware of how his hands clutched his messenger bag strap for dear life once more, too used to getting his lights knocked out by others to process that Larry didn’t have any true intentions of hitting him.

“I mean, I was just thinking-“

“Whatever you were thinking, you were wrong,” Larry deadpanned, eyes narrowing. Travis’s own eyes dropped down to stare at Larry’s shoes. He really wished he could call upon his usual venom, but he felt stupefied. Everything moved a bit too slow for him to process it fast enough to put on a facade. “And from now on, only talk to me when I approach you.”

Travis didn’t utter a word as he watched Larry walk away, long hair bouncing with every angry stomp.

/ / /

The lackluster interaction between them had left Travis feeling disgruntled. He never envisioned that he’d be able to conquer the wild beast that was Larry Johnson in his first rodeo, but he had been hopeful to at least make a millimeter of headway. Instead, the stony brown eyes of the other had shot him down on sight, refusing Travis before he even had the chance to open his mouth. Despite the blond’s overwhelming negativity with the situation, he realized that maybe not everything had crumbled to ashes like it appeared when he made his way to his trusty bicycle after the final bell had rung.

Mirroring the day before, Larry stood against the chain link fence by his bike. This time, the brunet held a lit cigarette between his lips, and Travis watched as the smoke billowed against the “No Smoking!” sign attached to the fence. He did his best to swallow the anxiety that Larry was just there to scold him more and held his chin up as he approached his own bike, determined to let the metalhead know that he had absolutely no control over him.

“Hey angel,” Larry cooed, taking the cigarette from his mouth. “Seems like you have a little more ‘pep in your step’ now.”

Just like that, Travis could feel his temporary control snatched from him by a mere pet name. A wolfish grin covered Larry’s lips as the brunet averted his gaze to let out a low chuckle while Travis stood in front of him, frozen. “What’d you call me?”

“Angel,” Larry answered, pushing himself off of the fence. Travis took a step back as Larry became a step closer to him. “I can call you something else if you’d like. Kitten rolls off the tongue easily, but maybe you’d prefer baby boy?”

“I’d prefer my name.” The words came through Travis’s gritted teeth. As soon as his surprise at the name had dissipated, his stomach had done a weird flip flop, but then utter annoyance took place. The male in front of him had no place to be referring to him so fondly, how one should refer to their girlfriend, not another boy-

“Earth to Travis, yoo-hoo!” The cigarette was back in Larry’s mouth, and the taller male had leaned in closer to Travis, waving a hand in front of his face. From this new, much closer, proximity the blond was overwhelmed by the reek of the nicotine. One again, he took a step back, this time quickly looking over his shoulder. It just sank in that Larry could get them both in trouble for smoking on school premises. “What were you fantasizing about so hard that you didn’t even offer me a nod when I said that I’d go to your stupid church?”

“Wait,” Travis’s head whipped back to Larry, “You’ll go?” The blond couldn’t keep the excitement and eagerness out of his voice. If he could just get Larry to go to service, he was sure it’d change the brunet for the better and maybe help cease some of the feelings going through Travis’s own mind when he caught himself staring at Larry.

“I’ll go to one meeting,”Larry corrected, holding up a single finger. Travis would take what he could get.

“That’s great-“

“But only if you let me drive you to my place tonight,” Larry interrupted, smile broadening as Travis’s own shrank. That wasn’t so great.

“Why?” It seemed that Larry’s grin only continued to grow, his insufferable tooth gap making an appearance now. The brunet drew his eyebrows together and shrugged his shoulders as if to exaggerate how “hard” he was thinking about the answer to Travis’s question.

“I dunno, thought we could have a little bonding experience before I show up at the Phelps Ministry, y’know?” Travis didn’t know. He didn’t know why they needed to bond before the Wednesday night service. Larry rested his hand on Travis’s shoulder, and the blond felt like he was being smothered. He swore his knees started to buckle when the bastard started to rub slow circles into his skin with his thumb.

“What about my bike? I can’t leave it here, didn’t bring my chain today,” Travis got out, thanking God for the excuse.

“Let’s throw’er into the back of my pickup truck. I have some cords that I can tie her down with if you want to be sure she’s safe,” Larry assured, a glint in his eyes that made Travis feel cold. The blond hugged his arms to his chest, heaved in a breath of air, and slowly sighed before nodding.

“If there’s a single scratch on the bike from the bed of your pickup truck, you’re dead faggot,” Travis snapped, surprising them both at the sudden shift in tone. Larry snorted, shaking his head.

“There you are. There’s the Travis I know and love to hate,” Larry deadpanned. The brunet’s own sweet facade fell at Travis’s words, and he jutted a thumb in the direction of his truck. “Go ahead and get in while I grab the bike.”

/ / /

Travis sat stiff, as if the tiniest movement from him would make the vehicle’s alarm go off, as he waited for Larry to tie his bicycle down. The truck was the kind that only had a row of front seats, no back ones. At the moment, Travis would’ve killed to have been able to sit in the back, farther away from the gremlin of a brunet.

“Alright,” Larry began as he swung himself into the driver’s seat. The whole truck heaved to the side under the offending weight, and the blond was duly reminded of how much the other had bulked up since freshman year. “Next stop: casa de Larry.”

“You live in an apartment, not an actual house. Wouldn’t it be ‘piso de Larry?’” Travis asked the question half because he was an ass and half because he had a Spanish exam next week. Larry shook his head and turned the key in the ignition. As the engine roared to life, Travis felt himself cave in even more.

“Maybe if my mom was from Spain or some shit. We never use that form,” Larry gritted, eyes no longer focused on Travis as he tried to maneuver the truck around an assortment of sloppy student parking jobs. In the silence, Travis noted that Larry no longer had his cigarette, must’ve stubbed it out before climbing in. He was thankful for that, not really wanting to be trapped in a small space with the obnoxious smell of a cig. The odor was already present enough on Larry’s clothes. “So why, exactly, am I going to your church? And don’t bullshit me Phelps. I know there has to be more of a reason than it being a good experience.”

“I dunno Larry. Why am I being abducted to your apartment? There has to be a better reason than bonding,” Travis echoed back, his sarcasm slowly but surely firing up again. Larry’s glare whipped towards him, frown pressed into his face before he let out a dry chuckle.

“Like I told you, it’s just bonding. I wanna get to see the big, bad Travis Phelps in a new light,” Larry replied. His eyes darted back to the road to make sure they weren’t going to crash before he looked back at Travis, gaze traveling up and down his body. The Christian felt like he was being undressed.

“What if I don’t want to ‘bond’ with you?” Travis sneered. Larry couldn’t help the smile that broke out across his face, and Travis couldn’t help but cross his arms back over his chest, trying not to completely ruin his front. They both knew Travis would be putty in Larry’s hands.

A touch against his neck made him snap his attention back to Larry. The brunet’s own eyes flit back and forth from the road to Travis as his free hand traced patterns on the side of the blond’s neck. The shorter male roughly swallowed, disconcerted by the weird yet soft interaction. “Don’t worry angel, we’ll only do whatever you want to,” Larry purred, fingers dipping down to trace the base of Travis’s neck before lightly tugging at his sweater’s neckline. “But something tells me that you’re going to want to do a lot.”

Just as the gentle touches started, they stopped, leaving Travis alight. He tried to blame his longing for the caresses on the lack of positive physical affection in his own household, but that debate came up short in his own mind. He didn’t have to mull over the reason for long however because Larry’s hand suddenly rested on his thigh. Travis looked to the other, to see what game he was playing, but the metalhead was focused on the road, signaling their conversation was over for now. At first, the hand didn’t bother Travis too terribly much. He grew accustomed to its weight and warmth, could almost pretend it wasn’t there. However, when Larry started driving on back roads and subconsciously squeezing the boy under him at every dip in the road, the blond began to mind the hand very much. He knew the other, for once, wasn’t trying to get a rouse from Travis, but this might’ve been the best show Travis put on for him yet.

While Larry’s hand was resting on top his outer thigh, his fingers were curled against his inner. And while the placement was nowhere near his crotch, it still made Travis’s head spin. Right now, he was sat up stiff and straight, legs almost completely shut together. If he actually relaxed, slouched a bit, and let his legs spread to a more comfortable position, the hand would surely rest a lot higher on him. Travis wasn’t a fan of how much the idea excited him, but another part of him certainly was. The Christian could’ve screamed bloody murder when he realized he was starting to sport a hard on from just having a hand on his thigh, Larry’s hand no less. Instead, he looked out the passenger seats window and steeled himself, trying to calm down.

However, as fate would have it, the bastard beside him started to rub circles against him, fingertips curving all too pleasantly against Travis’s leg through his shorts. The blond knew in the back of his mind that it simply wasn’t normal for even a less disciplined man than himself to get hard from a hand on their leg, but Travis felt like he was positively burning. He looked like he was burning too. In the window, he could see his faint reflection, and a vicious blush dusted his features.

“Only about fifteen minutes away from the apartment complex,” Larry stated, casting a glance over to Travis. His eyebrows immediately furrowed at the sight. “Jesus, do you have a fever? My mom just got over the flu, can't be bringing any more illnesses into the house.”

“No! No, I’m fine,” Travis replied, words tumbling out quick. He ripped his gaze from the window to face Larry, offering a nerve stricken smile. Larry stared at him intently, eyes searching his face before they suddenly dropped down to his crotch.

“Oh my god,” Larry began, grip on Travis’s leg tightening.

“Fuck you,” Travis spat, jerking his leg away from Larry. His whole body shifted from the brunet, legs clamped together, but it was still easy to notice the tent in his pants.

“Apparently you really want to,” the brunet mused. His hand hovered in the air, as if he wanted to pry the other’s legs apart and see how much damage he had done, but he thought better of it. His thumbs drummed against the steering well as he grabbed it with both hands.

“Only in your wet dreams, Johnson,” Travis growled, and Larry really wanted to go into a hysteria of laughing. Only the blondie sat beside him would deny his attraction while there was a raging boner in his lap. Instead, he slowed the truck as he pulled off to the side of the road. He never cut the engine, just let it purr gently as the vehicle came to a halt. The change in pace startled Travis, and he felt his heart start to race. At this point, he didn’t know if it was from anxiety or anticipation. “What are you doing? Why are we stopped?”

Larry shifted in his seat to fully face Travis now that he wasn’t driving. The coy smirk that seemed to be ever present on his face broadened as he once again looked Travis up and down. The Christian could feel the blood rushing in his ears as Larry bit at his own finger for a second, seeming to decide something in his head. “Say Travis, have you ever heard of road head?”

[prorevenge]

Touchdown.

As I recall this story, I’m aware that some of the comments said by the perpetrators below will seem a bit straw-man in their delivery, but keep in mind that this was in an area considered very extremist.

So, this took place back in high school. This was 8 years ago in the Midwest. I’m 25 now, and While I don’t cherish all that lead to this, I do fondly remember its conclusion.

When I was in 11th grade, I went to a school that had a really heavy emphasis on School Spirit. And honestly, that part was great. It didn’t just focus on sports and other clubs like it, but also celebrated AV, Debate, Dance, etc. We had a pretty good football team and My boyfriend at the time was a first string running back. I wasn’t on the cheerleading squad, but I often helped with choreography for them, Dance and Flag teams. Mostly because I didn’t want the stigma of being the only boy on the cheerleading squad.

I wasn’t often bullied myself. I mean, there was the occasional slur tossed at me in the hall by your run-of-the-mill homophobes. But as far as anything extreme went, it didn’t happen to me. I figured it was mostly due to the fact that I was pretty important to 3 school squads.

However, my boyfriend, when he finally came out and started dating me, did not get the same treatment from everyone. Maybe it was because he was supposed to be Masculine, tough guy, football star but things got a lot tougher for him really quick.

His family and close friends were pretty cool with it all, but school was a different story.

His teammates were the first to turn their backs on him. Treating him like dirt where a week before he was their ‘best friend.’ Obviously not all of them were like this, but enough of them were and they outshined the good players who didn’t mind.

He seemed to take most of it in stride, as he knew what he was getting into when he came out. He told me a little name calling wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle and ‘if being honest with them changed their attitudes so much, then they never really were his friends.’

However, this is @prorevenge. Things never really stop there.

Apparently, this change in attitude didn’t just stop at his teammates. His coach wasn’t a big fan of having a ‘fairy boy’ on his team, and began pushing my boyfriend to the absolute limit.

He had to do twice as much work as everyone else for no good reason. And then, he’d get benched for ‘slacking off’ during practice. This was clearly taking its toll on him and it was hard for me to sit by. I wanted to confront them, and to figure out how his personal life had any connection with his ability to play. But, I was 5’8”. The shortest guy on the team was 5’11”. They were 20 in total. I was 1, maybe more than that if I could convince some friends to back me up. They lifted weights, ate steel and shat bullets. I was a dancer, ate normally and shat healthily. The point is, I wouldn’t have stood a chance in a confrontation with these guys. So, for the moment, I let it go and made the most of BFs time with me.

However, one day, he showed up to my practice, bruised and sporting a swollen eye. Aka, a very frequent black eye. He sits next to me and before I can even ask what’s wrong, he cries for what was the only time I ever saw him crack. I was furious and asked him to tell me what the actual fuck happened and told me something that still makes me queasy to this day.

Apparently it was weight room training day for the team. That room with all the weights and treadmills and such. And as usual, my boyfriend was told to run twice as much and lift twice as much as everyone else. Apparently Coach was having a shit day and decided to push him the hardest he’d ever been pushed. He couldn’t take it and passed out temporarily when he stopped. He said he was only out for a few seconds (thank god.) but when he came to, his coach was looking down on him both physically and metaphorically. He apparently told him that he wasn’t even fit to be on the team if he couldn’t even run without passing out like a ‘sissy’.

Then my boyfriend told me he shared a look with the other team members and left the room. And then several other members started taking turns wailing on him, kicking him and spitting on him. It didn’t go on for long before a few of the good teammates got them to cut it out and he finally managed to get out of the weight room and find me.

I consoled him, but I felt my blood burn from the rage I felt. I know people bullshit all the time about ‘blacking out’ and going all primal on a bitch, but I felt that feeling. Like all reason was gonna flood out of my brain and I was gonna find a bat and crack knees. But my boyfriend practically pleaded with me to not say anything. He said he didn’t want it to get worse, and picking a fight wouldn’t make it better. So I sucked it up but felt the wheels in my head start turning. Something needed to be done.

I couldn’t let this go on. So I started thinking and I figured out a way to get these bastards. To pin them with all of their shit and get some justice for my boyfriend.

I had quite a few friends all across the school. Cheerleading, Dance, Flag and, most importantly, AV Club (Since they recorded most performances for Dance and Show Choir.)

I got a few of my cheerleader friends in on my scheme and convinced our coach to let us practice near the team that day. It was almost playoff season so it wasn’t a hard push. Furthermore, I asked if my AV club friend, Ciara, could record our routines so we could review them so I could see if anyone needed work. She was a really chill coach and said yes to that too. Obviously we hoped to catch these guys on film, and use it as evidence against them... and hope something came of it. Honestly, it wasn’t the best plan but it was what I came up with.

When we got to the field that day, I began running through the steps of a routine we came up with while our plan was put into motion.

And it was a nightmare for me. I heard the coach and saw his treatment first hand. Screaming at my boyfriend to work harder, run faster. And his teammates heckled and pushed him around in their all-to-subtle ways. ‘Accidentally’ throwing passes at his head. Shoulder checking him when they lined up for Defensive Drills.

But I knew I couldn’t say anything yet. He’d be upset if I stepped in and the tormenting wouldn’t get better. So I bit my lip and endured.

I was beginning to think we weren’t going to get anything. If we showed our principal or administration what we’d seen, the Coach or the players could just spin it as harmless heckling and ‘seeing the potential in him’ as an excuse to push him harder.

But luck finally got on our side, and another pass came flying towards BF and hit him square in his black eye.

I flinched when I saw it. He fell to his knees and cried out. I ran over to check on him and see if he was okay. He said he was fine but I could see his ‘good’ shining with tears. It clearly hurt a lot. I heard them laughing. The coach chuckling and those assholes who hurt him in the first place.

I just couldn’t hold my tongue anymore. I wasn’t known for shouting or cussing but I turned, my nastiest snarl on my face and screamed “What the actual fuck is wrong with your asses?”

The football twats started ‘Oooh’ing at us and the coach shook his head. “What? Does he need his boyfriend to fight his battles now?” He said.

I told him that he and his stupid team was the reason he was hurt in the first place. This didn’t deter him. I don’t remember his exact words, but he said something to the effect of “You should be happy I’m even letting this faggot on my team.” And told me that he’d speak with the coach about my position with the Other teams. Get me kicked off so I had nothing.

I looked back at Ciara. Thank God she had the wherewithal to bring her camera closer to watch him. I stood up, taking BFs hand and leaving the field, middle finger raised as I left. When I finally met up with Ciara, she told me she got the whole thing. I still wasn’t happy, but I was relieved we finally had something on these bastards. She told me she’d have a friend get it ready and we’d go to the Principal that week.

We went to her a couple of days later with our evidence and she was almost as furious as I was. She informed us that she was almost ready to call my boyfriend into the office to ban him from the team because his grades had slipped drastically over the past few months. From honor roll to Cs and Ds. Now she knew the reason. She called in the Coach and had us stick by to corroborate our story. When she asked the question, he did exactly what I thought he would do. He spun it like it was some ‘great potential’ he saw in my boyfriend, but that if it was costing him his grades, he’d inform him that he’d need to get them up or be barred.

I almost grinned like a Cheshire Cat when she turned her monitor around and showed him the footage of him insulting and threatening me and my boyfriend. He was stunned silent, and I was on Cloud 9 with a grin only the fucking sun could hope to match. She asked us to go to class for the day and we did, and awaited the fallout.

And oh my God was it sweet. First and foremost, BF was offered a chance to complete his missing work, no penalties. His grades got back to their previous state. But the best part was the Coach’s immediate firing for ‘Blatent Discrimination and Encouraging violence on a student.’ He wasn’t a teacher so finding a replacement wasn’t difficult. The Principal sent out emails to various schools and the Superintendent of our district and explained the situation. No way was he getting any more jobs in this area.

Furthermore, the jerks who actually committed the act faced not only suspension, but also were kicked off of the team. Most of them had to spend their Senior Year watching Sophomores and Second String players win their playoff game. They didn’t win the Championship but they did make it into the top 10.

But most importantly, my boyfriend was able to resume a relatively normal life.

We broke up after high school. I moved across country for School and he went to our State College. But we maintain a healthy friendship to this day. We try to talk at least twice a year. And we saw each other at our 5 year reunion. He’s happily married to a new guy and I’m in a great relationship and we all hit it off.

I never knew what happened to those guys or the Coach after High School. But I like to think that losing out on what they did may have taught them a lesson. And if not... well may God have mercy on their hateful asses. I certainly won’t.

(source) story by (/u/Kayden_Pauser)

[lysung]

Wabi-sabi (part 1)

Genre: angst, fluff (in the upcoming chapters :))

Pairing: Minsung (Jisung + Minho)

Words: 2,750

Summary: Wabi-sabi means imperfect or incomplete beauty. This is a central concept in Japanese aesthetics, which comes from Buddhist teachings on the transient nature of life. A pot with uneven edges is more beautiful than a perfectly smooth one, because it reminds us that life is not perfect.

Han Jisung and Lee Minho are two average high schoolers who have differences in common; two of them are being from the other high schoolers are being a part from the LGBT community and too thoughtful in an unhealthy way, besides many other things society would see as "flaws". After accidentally knowing each other through Twitter, they eventually became best friends but both of them still had colorless and monotone lives outside internet, until that, someday, one of them is about to get beaten up for being LGBT and the other one defends a random guy from getting beaten up by one of his best friends.

Warnings: bullying, homophobia, depressive thoughts

A/N: hello! i'm alexis and this is my first au :) i know this blog is supposed to be a fluff imagines blog, but i've been feeling like writing some ansgt lately. i hope y'all don't mind it ^^ i've worked hard on this since it's my arts homework as well, so i didn't have all the time to write this, but i did write it on my pace and, honestly, im still a bit unconfident about this one. if this gets a great reaction, i will definitely continue this asap ❤️ i hope you enjoy and please leave a heart and/or reblog, it would help me a lot and make my day 💕

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Legend says that, as soon as you’re born, you get a red string tied to your finger, connecting you to someone you’re destined to meet, regardless of time, place or circumstance. The string may stretch or tangle but it will never break.

Han Jisung always found the Universe majestic but crazy at the same time. Isn’t it weird how everything happen as it wills? Or, maybe, would it be They? Who is in control of the universe, if there’s someone with such power? Would they be God? But who is God, actually? Is there someone above God? — This kind of thought dominated the teenager’s mind every once in a while and, when it did, it would always keep him up at night. The thought of living his own life but, actually, being controlled by a divine existence, would scare him sometimes.

But, the thing is: the Universe, be it "it" or "they", never did anything out of the blue. Everything happens for a reason; whether if we trip or fall, cry out of pain or laughter, fake or genuinely smile, nothing happens “just because”. And we live to grow up as individuals and learn each and every lesson “it” has to teach us, even the small and silly ones.

Laid down on his bed, Jisung, who strongly believed in such legends, turned off his phone and stared at his dark-ish room’s ceiling, slightly bright thanks to the street lights outside.

These thoughts were, once again, haunting him. All he could do was wonder 3 things: What is he supposed to learn? Why? And, specially, who is going to help him?

These thoughts were soon replaced by self depreciative ones as soon as he looked through the window and noticed the sun rising. He would soon have to be up to get ready for another monotone day of school. He turned around, his back facing the windows, closed his eyes and, one more time, tried to fall asleep. But, as time passed, his thoughts wouldn’t go away; neither his usual philosophical thoughts or the self depreciative ones. There were hundreds of voices screaming in his head – some were calling him, some sounded mad, you would be afraid if you could hear them too. And when he least expected, his alarm ranged, meaning not only it was time for him to get ready for school, but also that he lost another fight to his strong mind.

Later that morning, during class change, he noticed 3 of his seniors in the other side of the corridor. Changbin, Hyunjin and Felix were staring at him and laughing out loud; he tried to ignore them and got his material for Math class. Walking to his classroom carefully, trying his best to avoid them, but they eventually came to him and Changbin pinned him to the nearest locker.

"Where are you trying to go, you shameless fag?" Changbin, their "leader", said to his face in provocation.

"Leave me alone, Changbin. Mind your own busin-" The younger tried to say and break free from his strong grip, but failed and was cutted out by Changbin.

"What are you gonna do? Are you gonna run away? Huh?" The oldest said, the provocation never leaving his tone.

Jisung was speechless. The small anxious boy didn't know what to do — should he fight back? Say something mean to them? Run away? He was totally alone and lost; there was nothing he could do.

"What is going on in here?" A high-pitched voice echoed through the, now, empty corridor, and, right next to them was the school's principal, looking pissed off as usual.

"Oh, nothing, Mrs. Kang! I was just... just... asking him how he'll go back home after school, so that I would know if I should take him home or not, hehe! I love this guy, Mrs. Kang. You have no idea how much I lo-"

"Detention. The 4 of you. And, Mr Seo, I'll let you go this time but, if you ever try to lie to me again, it's detention for a whole week. No buts." Mrs. Kang said and left, cutting Changbin's excuse off and getting a sigh from each of them in response.

"Listen up." To turn back to Jisung was the first thing Changbin did as soon as Mrs. Kang left. "I will get you and teach you how to behave like a real man, annoying faggot. Wait for it." Changbin threatened again, looking deep in Jisung's eyes and left. He watched their figures get smaller as they walked through the long corridor, fear and regret as evident in his eyes than never. Changbin had something in his eyes that made Jisung even more confused and lost.

As soon as the group had finally disappeared, Jisung bursted to the school's restroom without looking back, not being able to hold back the tears. Poor boy wouldn't make it to Math today and he was very aware of it.

This was just a tiny bit of Jisung's daily life, but it always shattered his heart in a billion pieces. He wondered, how can people be this heartless? Why are people like this to people like him, who were just born "different"? What's so wrong in being different? In being yourself? In loving someone, not minding their gender identity? What did Jisung do to deserve to live in such a inhumane society?

What did people like him did for the universe to punish them like this? What did they do to deserve such pain?

Jisung eventually lost his hope on society and hated his mind even more for being so cruel to him. All these voices calling him out, calling him names and saying stupid things would never shut up. How great would it be if he had somewhere to scream freely, without fearing to be heard...

As he walked through a dark path in life, it only seemed to get darker. He tried his best to run away, but something was stronger than him, pulling him further into the endless darkness, regardless of how much he fighted back, until he couldn't fight anymore. That's when he gave up.

After two hours spent locked in the bathroom, including some time to calm down a little bit and reduce the swelling in his eyes at least a little bit, he finally left the restroom and safely got his stuff and went to his classroom, lowering his head to hide his swollen eyes.

And this is how Jisung spent the rest of his time at school: hiding himself from everyone, specially his eyes. No one should see his eyes, or else he would be bombarded with questions and feel even worse with people pretenting to be concerned.

When he was finally back home, his safe place, the first things he's done was locking himself in his room and throwing himself on his bed. It was a way too long day for Jisung and all he wanted was to sleep forever.

Hence he couldn't sleep, he unlocked his phone and tried to look for a calm and soothing song to sleep when he received a message from one of his favorite people ever: Lee Minho, a friend he knew through Twitter. They were like best friends; sending memes, using matching icons, tagging each other in random "love yourself" tweets and even writing sweet things to the other, just to remind them that they are loved and appreciated. It was the kind of friendship people either envy or ship. They would never stop talking to each other and Jisung would never find the exact words that can express all his gratitute for having such an amazing person in his life.

"hey, how was school today? did those dumbasses disturb you again?" Minho asked him in the most "Minho" way as always. Jisung's heart always skipped a beat whenever he would receive a message from him - he's one of the few people who actually worry about him and he loved this feeling.

"it actually sucked as always, but there's not much I can do about it anyways. and yeah, they did, that's why :(" Jisung replied, trying hard not to remind of what happened earlier.

"wait right there bub, i'll brb i will get some tickets to go to your city and kick some asses to mars" Jisung smiled at his reply. Ever since they talked for the first time, Minho's personality amazed Jisung. They were completely opposites, and that was the fun part - their differences made everything perfect.

Minho was, unfortunately, the only person Jisung told about Changbin and his "crew". He just couldn't gather the courage to tell anyone but him, blind by scenarios of his family's possible reactions.

"you're so weird" "i love you so much" Jisung replied and smiled as wide as he could. This kind of reply between them would be pretty common. Now, the question is: is it really a joke or not? Did they mean it, or not? They never even thought about saying this, but it obviously made both of their hearts best crazily fast.

"now that's a lie because i love you more" and tons of heart emojis and memes were shared.

They were each other's happiness, home, a safe place. It was incredible how each message would melt both their hearts. Happiness was endless whenever they would talk. "If only universe could make us live near...", Jisung said to himself. He just wanted to hold tight this bright light that had been brightening up the path Jisung was going through.

"hey, I didn't go to school today so i kept on reading about random facts and found out about a japanese legend that says that two people who are destined to meet are connected by a string tied to their hands and i thought of you" "you said you really like legends like this, so i was wondering if you knew about this one..." Jisung's cheeks began to hurt for smiling for so long. Minho makes him feel so loved, which is a feeling he's still not used to, but he wish he could feel all this in person.

"you're so adorable :( and yes i do know this one, it's one of my favorites!" "i wonder who's on the other side of my string..."

"if you're not gonna be on the other side of my red string then what's the point."

"i love you. i wish i could say this in person."

"i love you too bub and that's fine. some day this will happen, okay? we can and will make it happen. promise?"

"promise."

(...)

It was time for another monotone day at school. He would always know what was going to happen because it's been like this for a while now: he goes to school, sleeps in class, is bullyied, sometimes sleeps a bit longer and then, go back home. It's like he's stuck in a viscious loop - in the end of the day, he would always come back home with a sad expression in his face but he couldn't change this.

At school, waiting for biology class to begin, Jisung decides to try talking to someone. If he wants to stop avoiding people, he should be able to have short conversations with anyone. While talking to this girl who sits beside him about a test they would have later that day, a group of boys sat next to him and started to talk in a much higher tone. Jisung couldn't see their faces before they sat, but it was, surely, Changbin as his crew. Soon they started "talking" about gays and how they are ridiculous. Nice. What a beautiful place with sympathetic people, yay. Poor boy could barely focus in class because of all the noise they were making.

As his class ended and he was about to get his materials for his upcoming biology class, the same group of boys pinned Jisung just like the day before. He was shaking; it was happening one more time and he still didn't know what to do. Shaking under his breath, he didn't say or do anything. He wouldn't dare.

"Hello fairy, we're back." This was enough for Jisung to want to disappear. No, not these feelings again...

"H-hey... b-b-back for w-what?" Jisung asked, stuttering, in deep hopes it wasn't about what he thought.

"I told you we we would teach you how to be a real man, didn't I? And we'll do it now. You'll thank us later when you finally understand what being normal is." Changbin said, clearly trying to scare Jisung even more but, unfortunately, he couldn't get anymore scared. He could barely move or speak. He definitely gave up when he saw Changbin's fist in the air, getting ready to punch him, but another yell from the other side was calling for Changbin this time. His attention was divided between Jisung and the mysterious guy.

"What are you even trying to do?" The guy asked, trying to separate Jisung from them.

"N-no, it's not like that, I swear-"

"What is this supposed to be, then? I saw what I saw, and heard what I heard. So, you're gonna teach him how to 'act like a real man'? Because of what, he's gay?"

"Minho, what are you doing?" Changbin tried to reach him and grab his arms, just like how they would do when they were children, but, this time, Minho wasn't feeling like it. He completely understood what was going on and something must be done about it. He wasn't going to keep anything to himself in such moment, even if the one he's confronting is one of his best friends.

"First of all, he is a man. He's not 'less manly' than you, just because he like boys. Love is normal. Don't you even dare try to say it is not normal, or a sin, or whatever excuse you want to give." Minho kept on yelling and pushing Changbin and his other friends. It did hurt him inside, but he wouldn't stop. "You believe in God, right? Well, God wants you to respect His children as who they are. Also, stop acting as if 'gay cure' exist. You think beating a gay up will 'cure' him, huh? Well, this is not and will never be the right option, Changbin. He's done nothing wrong and there's nothing to be cured. You are the one who should learn to be a man. I thought you had finally understood me when we had that talk, maybe you really weren't paying attention at all, apparently. I can't with all this. You have absolutely 0 respect for people who aren't like you, and I won't stand this anymore. I can't do this. You will never change." At this point, there was a crowd watching Minho, their jaw dropped. He really thouched each of them deeply. Jisung could feel the pain and suffering in his voice. All he wanted to do was to hug him, if it means it would make Minho feel better, even if just for a while. He thought he is so brave for standing up for someone like Changbin because of a stupid dude he didn't even know. This is insane.

Maybe you can still have hope on this society, after all.

[justanultrastressedwriter]

Aw Hell No - Ch III

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TW: Internalized homophobia, Homophobic slurs, Vomit, Food mention, Swearing, Anxiety. Let me know if I should tag anything else.

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*~ Men’s Bathroom ~*

Once Daniel entered the bathroom, he shut the door behind him and locked it. He scanned the stalls, feeling relieved to find them all empty. He fell against the closest wall and collapsed against it. He buried his head in his knees, letting the sobs overtake him. 

‘Holy fuck, this can’t be happening. Not to me. What have I done to fucking deserve this?’ Daniel’s mind raced, trying to find an explanation. He felt as if there were rubber bands around his lungs, preventing them from fully expanding and taking normal breaths. His heart racing as if he had just sprinted the Boston Marathon. 

Of the seven billion people in the world, Connor fucking Smith of all people had to be his soulmate, the person who had been torturing him for over a decade. And on top of that, of fucking course, Connor just had to notice his fucking scars. Although, Daniel could appreciate the irony of it. Connor Smith was almost as bad as Daniel’s homophobic drunk of a father that had spent all of Daniel’s adolescence trying to “cure” Daniel of his “problem”.

As if being gay was a disease that could be cured - especially with drunken abuses, attempts at CBT using cigarette burns, and even being forced to watch pornography in some efforts to teach him how to be straight. And as much and as hard as Daniel tried to be straight, he physically couldn’t. It just wasn’t in the cards for Daniel, but he would’ve given anything and everything if that meant he could have been born normal instead of a faggot.

Just even thinking the word, Daniel felt his stomach shift as if he were about to throw up. He hated that word, it reminded him of the worst about himself. How he was different, how he was disgusting, how he was an abomination. He knew how wrong it was to be gay - how sinful and disgusting it was. He shouldn’t exist. 

Daniel pulled at his hair, trying to stop the downward spiral his brain was going on before he drove himself insane or puked. But despite his best efforts, his stomach still turned and shifted. He scrambled into one of the stalls and stuck his head in the toilet, toast, coffee, and eggs that he had had for breakfast making a disgusting reappearance.

Once Daniel’s stomach was done puking, he flushed the toilet and sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He would have sat there longer, fighting with his stomach that was on the verge of dry heaving, but he heard the bell for class ringing and realized that he needed to put his emotions on hold and get to class. Daniel had a perfect attendance record and zero tardies, he wasn’t going to ruin that just because of his emotions. He stood up and straightened his shirt, dusting it and his pants off. He exited the bathroom and made his way to his second period English class. 

Daniel was really excited about this class. It was taught by his favorite teacher, it was an Advanced Honors class which meant that none of his usual tormentors would be in the class, and it was one of the few classes he had with Charlie. It was going to be epically awesome, he hoped.

Daniel reached the door of his English class and saw Charlie grinning at the sight of him. He rolled his eyes at how easily excited his best friend got over the simplest of things and took the seat next to her. 

She waggled her eyebrows, playfully. “So, Grumpy Gills, how was your first period?”

Daniel groaned and rolled his eyes again, “Don’t remind me, but what happened during class isn’t what’s important. Something happened after class that we need to talk about. It’s important. We need to talk after this class.”

At Daniel’s words and tone, all of the humor and joy left Charlie’s blue eyes and were replaced with worry and concern. “Why? What happened? If any of those homophobic assholes hurt you, we need to go to the cops and get their asses arrested.”

“No, Charlie. It wasn’t anything like that. We can’t talk about it right now - not with all of these people around.” Daniel said, his voice a desperate whisper. He looked at his best friend with pleading eyes. “Can we talk after class in private? It’s important.”

Charlie nodded, her face filled with confusion and concern, but before she could question him any further the bell rang, signaling the start of class. Daniel turned his attention to the front of the classroom, hoping to focus his thoughts on his teacher who was going over the syllabus and curriculum for the year.

It wasn’t working, not in the slightest. Daniel crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the desk, hoping that his T-shirt and flannel would be enough to cover the glow that he knew was seeping from his chest, because Connor Smith and their problem were at the front and center of his thoughts.

He tried to imagine the two of them hanging out together as friends or even boyfriends. The two of them sharing jokes, laughing together, and enjoying their time with each other. Daniel tried to imagine Connor holding his hand as they walked down the street without a care in the world. He tried to imagine the two of them going on dates, stealing sweet kisses under the moon and starlight. He tried to imagine them going to the movies and sitting in the back row to make out where they thought no one could see them like normal teenagers. 

Daniel hated to admit that he liked what he imagined. He saw himself happy and in love, but he knew that it would never happen for him; especially with Connor. Daniel was too broken and damaged for a happy ending. He knew that he always had. He also knew that Connor would kill himself before admitting that Daniel was his soulmate and that there was a chance he might be anything other than straight. Especially while they lived in this town where the homophobia and intolerance were so ingrained into both the town and its citizens. Especially Connor himself.

Daniel had to stop himself from letting his inner conflict be reflected on his face - the entire class didn’t need to know that his attentions weren’t focused on their teacher. He scrunched his nose, frowned, and blinked a few times to try and redirect his train of thought. 

Now that he was finally able to focus on his teacher, of course, Charlie would have chosen that moment to demand his attention by tugging on Daniel’s shirt sleeve. He pulled his eyebrows together and looked at the redhead, his eyes narrowed with confusion. 

Charlie rolled her eyes and pointed at the window with her thumb. Daniel, still confused, followed Charlie’s gesture and saw Connor waving at him from outside with a shy smile.

Now, even more confused, Daniel looked to the front of the room and raised his hand. “Excuse me, Mr. Ryan?”

“Yes, Daniel?” Mr. Ryan asked, kindly. 

“May I please be excused to use the restroom?” Daniel asked and Mr. Ryan nodded with a smile. Daniel nodded his thanks and left the classroom to find out what Connor wanted.

[snowflakeprompts]

Biadore prompt - hand holding because that shit is adorable 💜

I don’t know if this is actually what you wanted, but I hope you like it!

It wasn’t as if they’d never watched a movie together before. Why did this feel so different? From the moment he stepped inside Roy’s apartment, Danny knew that this wasn’t going to be like their other movie nights. He just had no idea how or why.

“Hi!” Roy greeted him enthusiastically as he showed up, but unlike the other times he came over, the older man neither hugged him nor kissed his cheek. Danny frowned a bit, but quickly replaced the frown with a huge smile. They hadn’t seen each other in ages, it was probably just awkwardness. “Pizza is on the counter, take a slice if you want one.”

Danny nodded, still smiling, but suddenly there were two dogs jumping around his feet, and he grinned as he bent down to say hi to them as well.

“Hi Sammy, hi Dede! Oh, aren’t you just the cutest, is your daddy treating you okay?” he talked to them, putting on a baby voice. “Because if not, you can stay with uncle Danny, yes you can, yes you can.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’ve missed my dogs more than me?” Roy chuckled, and Danny looked up to look at him.

“Because it’s true! I mean, look at the beauties! Then look at you,” he grinned, picking up Sammy and petting him. Danny loved Roy’s dogs, he really did, at times probably more than he loved his best friend even. Mostly because they weren’t moody, and they were always happy to see him. Roy, however, he never really knew how excited he would be to see him.

There had been a time when Danny was sure that the two of them were going to end up a couple. Of course, everyone noticed it. But once people started asking questions, Roy backed off. Danny took the hint, he backed off as well, and they just lived on as best friends. It was never going to be them. No matter how much Danny wanted to.

“Okay, you said pizza, where is it?” Danny put Sammy down on the ground, standing back up.

“I said it was on the counter, you faggot,” Roy rolled his eyes. “I’m getting wine and finding a movie.”

Danny smiled. Of course there was wine. That was almost tradition by then. He walked to Roy’s kitchen, grabbed three slices of pizza and a plate, then walked back to the living room. He wasn’t surprised to see that Roy had chosen a pretty boring movie, but decided not to comment on it. As long as he got to spend time with the older man, he supposed he was happy.

Once the movie started, they sat further apart than usual. Roy was on one side of the couch, Danny on the other. It was unlike them, and the air between them felt tense. Almost like you could cut it with a knife.

Danny accepted it for the first thirty minutes of the movie, he did, but then he had to know. Had he done something wrong? Did Roy not want him there? Roy was the one who had invited him over, but he seemed so distant.

Clearing his throat, he moved closer to Roy, leaning against him. He could feel Roy tense up, and he bit his lip in doubt. What was going on? That was when he noticed Roy’s arm, slowly moving from where it was resting on Roy’s thigh and over to Danny’s. Danny swallowed, then moved his own hand to take Roy’s.

The older of the two kept staring at the movie, but he did intertwine their fingers. Danny took a deep breath, and just as he was about to speak up, Roy had turned to look at him.

“Roy-” “Danny-”

Danny closed his mouth, then let Roy continue.

“I’m in love with you,” he said, looking into Danny’s eyes. “I’m so in love with you, and I can’t pretend that I’m not. Not anymore.”

“Then don’t,” Danny whispered, leaning closer to close the gap between them.

[tryingtobts]

Was It Worth It?- Memory 11

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x M!reader Trigger warning: Angst, cursing from reader, JK getting told off Was it worth it? Intro Memories: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 Present Fates: 1 2 3 Memory Eleven - It Took Me By Surprise

I felt like I was going crazy. (Y/n) wasn’t the same anymore. The more I tried to apologize, the more (Y/n) got mad at me. But something also bothered me, I noticed bruises have started to show all around his body and more whispers about (Y/n) kept circling around. At the time, I refused to believe that Nari kept spreading rumors about (Y/n) because she wanted my attention all to herself which was devoted to (Y/n) and trying to get him back. One day, (Y/n) snapped at me for trying to apologize for the 53rd time. I saw him down the hall, walking and he sported a new bruise on his cheek. I sped walk towards him and asked if he was alright. As always he shrugged me off and told me to leave him alone. I grabbed his wrist and spun him around.

“I’m sorry! Please forgive me! I didn’t mean to hurt you! What more do you want from me? It’s been two months!” I begged him.

A cold gaze met my desperate one but instead of ignoring me like usual he scratched his head in frustration, “God! It’s too late, Jungkook! You fucked up! And I literally heard you at lunch last week for fucks sakes! You let your friends bag on me in front of everyone! They said I was a nobody, and that you shouldn’t love someone like me and you agreed! Also, you kissing Nari at the party is something that’s easily forgivable! Two months isn’t even enough for me to forgive you! Do you really expect me to forgive you like the other times? This isn’t something like you canceling dates last minute! You cheated on our anniversary and lied that you were sick! Did you even know I can’t walk down the hall without hearing people calling me names, faggot, whore, hell! People even call me a slut! You want to know why? It’s cause of that angel of yours! Spreading rumors and lies about me!” He yelled causing eyes to look in our direction.

I gulped at the attention, I sputtered in defence of who I thought was my friend, “S-She didn’t! She wouldn’t! You don’t know anything about her! Maybe it was someone else! May-Maybe it was you!”

(Y/n) looked at me in disbelief and exclaimed, “Excuse me!”

I spat out the rumors I heard, lacing my voice with the frustration from trying so hard to win him back and anger of the accusation against Nari, “You heard me! Maybe if you weren’t such an attention whore none of this would happen! Maybe you deserve whatever happened to you!”

(Y/n) looked down and for the first time in two months his voice wavered in sadness, “... ha, at least I know how you truly felt about me and this loveless situation Jungkook.”

I don’t know what possessed me to say words that will always be at the top of the my list of regrets, “Yea! I used you! Is that what you want to hear? That I think you’re nothing but a gay attention whore, who does nothing but drag me down with you!”

He laughed a joyless laugh, “To think, I loved you. No, that’s wrong. I do love you but the you who I love isn’t here anymore.” He put a hand in his pocket and took a ring out, our ring, and dropped it on the ground.

My chest hurt at the sight and he looked at me with empty eyes for a second and turned around to walk away, ‘I made a mistake. Stop. Don’t leave! I’m sorry.’ Everything I thought to stop him but no words came out. Not the words I wanted to come out.

“Where are you going?” My voice cracked.

(Y/n) paused as if he was waiting for me to say something to redeem myself. So I continued.

My voice wavered and the words came out against my will, “You lied to me. Y-You said you would be by my side forever! You said you loved me! You promised! We’re best friends! You said I was your closest and most cherished-“

A loud slap rung out as (Y/n) had turned and slapped me. I looked into his eyes and saw something that looked familiar- no that’s not it, it wasn’t love like the first time he confessed or any of our happy memories together. No, He looked at me like I was a monster, he hated what I had become and he hates me with all of his beautiful heart that had turned black because of me.

He pulled me by my collar, I’ve never been scared of (Y/n) like I was then, he whispered to me with his voice full of venom, “Listen here Jeon Jungkook, you don’t have any right to blame me for you cheating and our relationship failing. Get your head out of your ass. I kept my promise. I stayed by your side no matter what it cost me! I sacrificed so much for you! So don’t you dare blame me for leaving you when I promised the boy from grade school to never leave his side because I kept that promise even when he died 2 years ago!” His voice grew louder with each sentence. (Y/n) growled at me before he threw me down to the floor and stormed away.

I stared at his retreating form and suddenly the everlasting denial that enveloped me was finally replaced by the realization of the truth. Tears started to form and before I knew it, I started to sob like I was a kid again, not caring at the pitiful eyes and worried glances of those who passed me by. Screaming, pulling my hair, thinking ‘I’m an idiot.’ Over and over. I wanted him to come back so I kept screaming and crying for him to come back. To comfort me like he used to every time I cried. But he didn’t and I realized I could have salvaged if I had just listened. I could have - No. I ruined everything from the start, I couldn’t fix us then because of my stupidity and I can’t now because of impossibility.