#i am fine btw it’s not too painful just super uncomfortable

[doki-doki-imagines]

hello! I am the person who requested that reader with a cat who likes the boys a lot if u remember that request.

may I request (if ur not uncomfortable with it) some period comfort with an afab!reader (they/them pls) just taking care and helping reader with their period? if it's not too much can u also include reader sleeping a lot and craving lots of food (typical ik) and how reader just gets mad rlly easily.

characters: bi-han, syzoth, shang tsung, kenshi, raiden and liu kang

thank u and have a good day :) (smiling through the pain)

author note: I'm super late, but I suppose it's better than never. Hope you'll like these! Link to the cat post

Kenshi Takahashi: -He…He can smell when you are on your period. -Actually Kenshi can even tell when it is coming so he is always ready with food when it finally comes. -He tries to keep your pelvis warm and treat you softly since your body gets sore way more easily. -Kenshi goes a bit insane when you're ovulating, so now he is more calm and soft. -He'll try to make your mean comments slide, but it is hard for him, so it's better not to exaggerate, or Kenshi will snap back.

Raiden: -Really sweet and understand your needs. -But Raiden won't be a sticky boyfriend. He has work to do and won't take a day off. -When he finally understands how this period works for you, he will be prepared for the next one. -Your fave food? Check. Warm beverages? Check. Cover and 3 different kinds of movies to match your current mood? Check. -When Raiden gets home tho he is all for you. He likes to put you in his arms and draw circles on your hand, waiting for you to fall asleep on his chest. -Mean words are nothing to him. A king of taking the hit and making it slide off him.

Liu Kang: -"You bastard! Couldn't you erase menstruation while creating this world?" You whine into his arms, cramps making you curl in his body.

"Would you rather lay eggs, dear one?" Liu Kang replies, with a smile on his face, forefinger lifting your chin up to make you look into his brilliant eyes.

"You are just a meanie." You snap back, pushing his face away from yours, making a laughter blossom in his throat. -He tries not to make you eat too much junk food, but he'll back off when you look at him with fury in your eyes. -His body is better than any cover.

Bi-Han: -I'm sorry, but he would be pretty cold. -He was raised in a way that even if you were dying, you should take care of yourself without the help of anybody, so at max, he'll send your way a doctor. -Bi-Han has to work A LOT on being a normal human. He really doesn't know how to work around normal feelings that are outside his field of work. -And the future grandmaster lessons he has been given as a kid never focused on helping his partner out. It is already much that he decided who to be with. -Bi-Han probably knows very little about how menstruation works, mostly because they taught him not to care about other people and just think about how to be the perfect Lin Kuei's leader. -First work on making him act as a decent human, then Bi-Han will even make you a special tea to make your cramps less painful. -And if you look particularly pitiful he may snuck junk food too…

Syzoth: -The first time he saw you losing blood, he panicked because "Why are you losing blood?!?!" -After you explain how things work, Syzoth will let out a breath of relief. -Surprisingly, he understands pretty well that losing blood is a pain, so he doesn't mind following your order like a butler. -Syzoth is gonna snuggle under the covers with you, btw. -Not used to you being mean tho, even if he understands you aren't fine, he still takes those words personally.

Shang Tsung: -Actually, he'd make a potion to make your cramps fade. -But he doesn't do anything for nothing…are you ready to try his next experiments? Maybe the potion isn't as safe as he says. -Shang Tsung satisfies your cravings, but don't nag too much, or he'll get annoyed. -Also, don't be mean, or he will snap back, then you'll start to cry, and actually Shang Tsung has a weakness: your tears. Then he'll have to try to make you stop, but sadly, another mean word slips…it's an endless cycle that makes him think just "Hope this will end soon."

[dracoxsworld]

hii could you do a soft!dom harry (yk like he has control but he’s not mean during sex, more like still caring and protective) x fem!reader smut where he maybe goes a bit too hard so reader uses the safeword (maybe make the safeword “red” I feel like it’s the most used for a safeword) and harry is like super worried and feels guilty cause the reader starts crying due to the pain and he apologizes a million times and gives her a cute fluffy aftercare and they end up cuddling (also you can do some kisses on the head or something I’m literally on my knees for head kisses) and falling asleep together? I feel like harry would act like that and be super cute and everything <3 thank you!! (I love your writing btw it’s soo good)

A/N: Hey! Awesome suggestion! I loved this request so I decided to write it, I saw your second submission, your English is perfectly fine! I understood everything. <3

Warnings: Rough sex obvi, use of safe word, soft!dom Harry, crying etc. 18+ please Stay safe bebs!

RED - Harry P. x Reader - Oneshot, Smut, 18+

You and Harry's sex life was anything but vanilla. Maybe he gave off vanilla vibes, but those vibes were misleading.

Harry was never rough, however he was very protective of you. Naturally, that came out during sex. He'd never hit you, call you names, etc. He'd just let you know you were his. He'd leave marks from hickeys, bite marks etc. He'd have your throat sore and raspy from yelling his name that would echo off of the castle walls.

One particular time, Harry was feeling more protective than usual. You noticed this as you were on his lap, he was very roughly gripping your thighs, there was a different look in those eyes, looking at you through his circular glasses. They were darker than before. Full of a different type of love, it was pure lust. Not the kind you had seen before; his sweat was dripping down his temple as he was grinding his hips against yours. This lust, was rougher, more needy. Maybe not even needy; it was full of greed for you.

Normally you'd be okay with this type of look, this energy he was giving off. But today was different; you just wanted love. The slow kind, with a sprinkle of protection.

You could smell his cologne. Passion fruit mixed with wood, he smelled like how Autumn felt. He was saying something to you, but you were so in your head by how uncomfortable you were.

"Come on, baby, speak to me." Harry had said. His hands were at the button of your shorts, you nodded, almost off of instinct. "I need words, doll." Harry breathed out, furrowing his brows at you.

"Yes," You whimpered. You wanted him, maybe even needed him. But not in this way, not roughly. Passionately.

He nodded and undid your shorts, ripping them off. The fabric quickly running down your legs made them feel like they were burning. You whined, Harry didn't seem to notice, his leg was inbetween yours, up against your heat. He roughly grinded it against you, it felt good, but it pained you more than anything. His hands snaked up to your hair and balled it up in his fist.

"Are you ready for me baby? You've been so good." He moaned out.

You were soaked, you again, felt great, but it was all too much.

"Harry-" You tried to say to grasp his attention.

"That's right, good girl." He praised.

This put a few butterflies in your stomach. However his grinding got rougher and rougher, before you knew it; his hands were gripping your wrists. This was too much, just before his hands reached your underwear, you said it.

"Red!"

Harry immediately jumped off of you. The previous look in his eyes had faded. He wiped the sweat dripping down the bridge of his nose.

"Doll?" Harry said softly.

You didn't want to cry, but you did. A lot. Harry immediately wrapped his arms around you and held you.

"Baby, what happened?!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm sorry," He added quickly, checking if he left any rough marks on you.

"I'm just hurting.." You sniffled out, bringing your hands to your face. Harry looked guilty, "I am so sorry baby, please forgive me." His hands gently grabbed yours, and brought them away from your face.

You looked into his green eyes, they were soft natured again, full of love. You gulped. "It's okay."

"No, it's not, I should've paid attention to any hints."

You looked up at him, your eyes were red from the burning tears. “Please don’t stop holding me.” You croaked out. Harry shook his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You and Harry just sat in silence, it wasn’t awkward; it was comforting. It’s what you both had needed. His fingers slowly and softly dragged up and down your arm, continuously. He seemed like he wanted to speak; but didn’t know what to say. He seemed too deep in his thoughts.

He finally did speak, eventually.

“Would you like me to draw you a bath?” He asked.

“Yes, that would be nice.” You answered in a hushed voice.

Harry got up and left you to start a nice warm bath. Once he got up you immediately missed his presence. You felt cold. You twiddled with your fingers as you waited, you didn’t want to leave the bed. You couldn’t.

“Love, bath is ready.” Harry finally announced, leaning against the doorway. You hummed, smiling a bit. Harry looked relieved to see you smile. “Would you like me to help you up?” He added, tilting his head at you. You quickly nodded, reaching your arms towards him. A goofy grin melted onto his face, and he walked towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up. You legs absentmindedly wrapped around him. You smushed your face into his shoulder, humming to yourself. You felt so comfortable, so safe once again.

“Can you get in the bath with me?” You asked, your voice muffled into his sweatshirt.

“Of course, only if you want me to be.”

“Please.”

You and Harry undressed, helping each other in a loving and caring way. Harry helped you put your hair up in a bun, he caressed your face with the back of his hand.

“You’re so precious to me, my flower.” He said softly. His eyes looked sad, he still felt mass amounts of guilt.

“Harry, I forgive you. I want you like that too; I just-“ You started, but paused to think. You had Harry’s full attention. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek, seemingly anxious about what you were going to say. You took a deep breath and continued. “I want you passionately.” You admitted. “I want you to make love to me slowly,”

“Do you not want it rough anymore?” Harry asked, grabbing your hand and holding it in his. “No, no!” You replied, resting your free hand on his cheek.

“I love that too, I just couldn’t have that energy tonight.”

Harry nodded, and gave you a comforting smile. “Well, the bath is going to get cold, Doll. Wanna get in?” He motioned towards the garden tub. You nodded joyfully and stepped into the warm water and mountain of bubbles. You sunk into the comforting and soothing water, and Harry followed. You sat between Harry’s legs, your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around you and held you close. Every now and then he’d plant kisses behind your ear, whispering how much he loved you; giving you a shoulder massage, planting kisses there, too.

Your eyelids were getting heavy. The water surrounded you like warm blanket, Harry’s kisses and caresses were also lulling you to sleep.

“Baby? Are you falling asleep?” Harry asked you quietly.

“Mmhm..” You hummed.

“Let’s get you into bed; flower.” Harry suggested, gently pushing you off of him, but still supporting your body weight. You whined, and Harry chuckled. “Doll, you can cuddle with me in our nice warm bed.” Harry offered. You opened your sleepy eyes and nodded at your boyfriend, who’s hair was a mess, his eyelids looked heavy. To be honest he looked exhausted, but he still had his loving smile. He always looked at you as if you were a famous and valuable artwork in a high-class museum.

You both lazily got out of the bathtub, Harry made it priority to wrap you. in a nice warm fluffy towel. You wrapped it around you like a blanket, and ran into the bedroom, sleepily giggling. “Baby! You’re naked!” Harry called out to you. You tossed yourself onto the bed, in only your towel. Harry had followed you into the bedroom, fully dressed in pajamas from clothes he had set out for himself prior to getting in the bath. He had yours he had picked out in his hand (were really just his boxers and a shirt of his).

“Can you dress me?” You ask him with your face covered by the towel.

“Anything for you, princess.” Harry sighed. Harry dressed you, still giving you kisses here and there; causing you to giggle from it tickling and getting goosebumps.

Harry got into bed with you and you immediately cuddles up next to him. You were taken care of; and was given the love you were craving. “I love you so much Y/N.” Harry said, spooning you. You snuggled in to him more, his arms wrapped tighter around to you. “I love you too, Harry.”

[sprout-senior]

my personal headcanon for how monsters procreate in utmv/utdr: the babies just appear.

enough magic and intent from minimum two monsters will make a baby, it doesn’t matter what kind of intent etc(thinking of how PJ happened as a result of a battle between an alternate ink and error)

so there’s no incubation period. due to this, babies are that much more reliant on their parents for the first couple years of their life. basically proximity to their parents is vital to their physical and magical development; they CAN survive with only one parent’s presence, but it causes problems(i am yet again bringing up PJ and how they were raised primarily by ink for the first few years, don’t have a super solid physical form, and aren’t very powerful despite having two gods for parents. obviously my personal reasoning for this is not canon btw)

this period of necessary proximity to their parents does not HAVE to be the original monsters responsible for their creation. they can develop just fine with “surrogate” parents, given the magic bonds successfully. they CANNOT survive without consistent parents, for lack of better phrasing. if left alone or passed between caretakers too much over a long enough period of time, the baby will Fall Down and subsequently dust. fucked up i know but it’s my worldbuilding headcanon and i get to pick the rules

babies can bond with more than two parents! there isn’t a known maximum amount of parents, since no one has really tried to push the limits, but with several parents the baby will paradoxically take longer to develop their specific type of magic(their physical development is not stunted, but their personal magic takes longer because their soul has to “pick” between several different types of magic to base itself on)

once they’re around two, the baby’s magic type is “locked in”, so to speak. if there are several parents, it can take as long as three or four years in comparison. their power level is influenced by their parents, but not entirely dependent on them. some kids just have more of an affinity for magic, for no discernible reason.

part of what i really like about this headcanon is that gender and species are not factors in making a stable child! incest is still weird tho, i am not a fan of incest in any capacity. also, this means no monster has to deal with the absolute nightmare that is pregnancy. no morning sickness, extreme pain, risk of life, etc is involved. lucky bastards (obligatory “disclaimer this is not to discount the experience of anyone who has had good experiences with pregnancy and have things they really like about it. just bc i can’t personally empathize doesn’t mean i can’t understand that y’all’s experiences are vastly different than mine and you have a perspective informed by things i’ll never have the same level of knowledge and understanding of”)

uhhh that’s the main stuff, i think. literally the entire reason i came up with this idea is because i am just. deeply uncomfortable with mpreg and skelepreg. i don’t have any problem with people who DO like it, i just personally can’t deal. this will not affect my opinion of anybody, i need to make that abundantly clear.

in any case, any utmv/utdr monsters i make will have been born and developed this way. yes this applies to female mammal monsters, it applies to ALL monsters in my personal headcanon. maybe i don’t need to clarify that but whatever

if you like this idea, you’re more than welcome to adopt it! i think it’s an interesting piece of lore to incorporate in stories. i might even apply this to magic centered original works, unrelated to utmv/utdr, because i have become attached. i might not end up pursuing original stories, that’s not really what i’m interested in at this point in time, but i’ll always keep the option open.

if someone else has come up with an idea similar to this, that’s awesome! i promise i did not intentionally steal anyone’s idea, i am not currently aware of anything like it, so please extend some courtesy and understanding for me in the event that there’s a coincidence. i would request the same for if someone comes up with something similar AFTER this is posted, especially since i’m such a small creator without a whole lot of reach.

finally, if i’ve accidentally done something problematic here PLEASE tell me so i can fix it! i never want to cause harm with my work :)

if you’ve read this far, thanks! id love to hear your opinions and/or additions if you’ve got any!

[skellebonez]

I don't know if your ok with writing this, but could we have some Wukong and MK switched interaction from that au Winterpower98 posted recently? Mabye with 1 and 16

OOF I uh... I missed this all the way in the bottom of my drafts, this was sent VERY soon after @winterpower98 's Mentor Swap AU came about in... April... anon I am so sorry I HOPE YOU’RE STILL AROUND AND INTERESTED IN THIS. This isn’t set in episode 7 specifically, btw, I just wanted to use edited dialogue from it for fun.

Do not give me that look./I let you win.

Wukong already knew well what "eating dirt” felt like, but somehow it didn’t feel quite as painful when the one sending you face first into the ground was the super powerful Monkey King... who was your mentor.

“Better!” Xiaotian laughed out as he slammed into the ground, making Wukong’s body bounce back up by the force. “Much, much better! You’re really getting the hang of this, Wukong!”

“Ah-haa, course I am!” Wukong said with a smirk, puffing out his chest in pride. He absolutely did not hold himself back from rubbing the spot on his nose that yelled at him angrily from being smashed into the ground. Nope. “After all, I let you win.”

“Yeah, confidence, love that!” Xiaotian laughed, brushing off the dirt and dust from his student’s hair. “Now we can just take a break and see if... Uh... Your nose...”

“Huh?” Wukong tilted his head in confusion. Confusion that lasted until he felt something familiar running down his face. “Ooooh... oh shit. Yeah, uh, that. That’s happened before, I got it!”

Despite Wukong’s attempt at some comforting words, Xiaotian only seemed to grow more and more concerned and disturbed as blood continued to run down his student’s face.

"I BROKE MY STUDENT I AM A BAD MENTOR I AM SO SORRY!" Xiaotian rambled, reaching out and holding Wukong's face in his hands as he assessed the damage. "DO YOU NEED A HOSPITAL!?"

"MY NOSE IS BROKEN NOT MY EARDRUMS STOP SHOUTING AT ME!"

“I BROKE YOUR NOSE!?”

“STOP SCREAMING!”

“AAAAAAAAHH!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

~

Somehow, eventually Wukong managed to calm his teacher down just enough for Xiaotian to call his cloud and zip them off Mount Huaguo and back to the city faster than he had ever moved in his entire life. He was pretty sure they scared a couple birds half to death as they passed them.

The sight that anyone in the direct vicinity of them could see was certainly original.

One young man in a very colorful outfit, head tilted down and holding his nose with a cloth under it, sitting next to a man who was barefoot and looked incredibly uncomfortable. Both of them looked like they had certainly flown here as fast as possible, given their hair equally looked like it flew through a wind tunnel.

“...” Wukong looked over at his mentor for the third time in the 6 minutes they sat waiting.

“... Do not give me that look,” Xiaotian hissed, looking around him anxiously. “I didn’t exactly... think ahead before flying you here.”

“You’d stand out a lot less in your human disguise if you had shoes,” the student shot back, voice odd sounding with his nose pinched the way it was. “You... didn’t have to rush me here, like I said it’s happened before. I’d have been fine long enough for you to get some.”

“I don’t know if I own any,” Xiaotian admitted with a wince, glancing over himself. “I’m... sorry for breaking your nose.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wukong said with an awkward chuckle and a wince. “Trust me, ‘the monkey king accidentally sent me into the ground face first too hard’ is the coolest way I’ve broken my nose. Way cooler than ‘tripped over my own shoe laces and fell face first into a light pole’.”

“You fell into a light pole?” Xiaotian asked, unable to help his laugh from bubbling up.

“It was Bagle’s fault! He messed with my laces!”

~

When Wukong returned home late with a much more substantial than usual bandage and split on his nose than usual he had a very fun story to tell everyone.

Except he was the only one who found it fun.

But hey, who else could ever say they had a heart to heart conversation with the Monkey King in a hospital? No one, that’s who!

[jessiewre]

Day 18

Weds 22nd Jan

Woke up with no alarm required, bliss, and apart from the building site noise going on, it was super quiet.

I jest - well, there was building site noise - but it was actually fine, we’d gone to bed so early that we were ready to get up anyway.

The bed had the ever-present African dip in the middle so we decided that we’d utilise the 3 bed situation available to us and Phil volunteered to sleep in the single bed that night. I half-heartedly pretended to argue but we both knew the double bed had my name written all over it. Plus my body absolutely KILLED from the trek. I had obviously worked a lot harder than Phil as he weirdly experienced no pain at all. I was now the one walking like a 100 year old lady with piles.

We had a Spanish omelette breakfast, drank some coffees, made ZERO plans for the day, downloaded Netflix shows and basically did as little as possible

At one point Phil said

‘I like the purple of those flowers’

This was the most exciting thing that happened all morning.

Actually - something incredibly exciting did happen.

Phil asked reception about their laundry service and they said, unbelievably, there there was a FREE LAUNDRY SERVICE available. Tipping optional.

Oh.

My.

God.

We practically gave them every single item in our bags including some questionable health hazard items we’d worn on the trek and it was THE most satisfying feeling to know they would be cleaned. Hoorah! It gives you the feeling that the holiday is starting all over again with a nice fresh start.

But yeah, we did frik all this day.

Another exciting moment was when Phil burst into a round of 20 push ups at random.

Reminded me of when we first met and we were at this party and I turned around to see Phil doing different styles of push ups for a small audience and I thought Eurgh what a prick, better get rid pronto.

So anyway, cut back to 2020 - we had a little lunch of vegetable tacos and chips (we definitely should not have ordered one each) and then Phil suggested we go for a walk. 
I honestly could not be arsed as felt I’d done plenty already with all the sitting around an that, and also my legs REALLY ached - but sure, I obliged and we went for a walk.

It was good to leave the hotel and all that but ya know what who am I kidding, it was an bang average walk - apart from when we saw a little kid taking his goat for a walk. That bit was good. A few kids looked as us and just said ‘Give me money’ which I honestly found annoying as its just such a rude way to put it. Obviously I guess they are not aware of that and are just trying their luck, but children in Uganda didn’t say this to us so its not a phrase we’ve been hearing so far. Other children have said I’m hungry or Give me food, which had definitely resulted in a positive response more often than ‘Give me money’.

By the end of the walk, Phil was still so uncomfortable from all the lunch he’d eaten (I felt fine btw) that he needed to shower and nap immediately.

Once the sun had calmed down a bit, Phil woke up just as this Canadian guy started chatting to us as he was passing. He was alright like, not unpleasant, but like after 10 minutes we were ready for him to walk away from our tent and take his snoresville chat with him. He talked sooooo slowly. He was like the sloth from Zootopia (if you haven’t seen that film check it out). He didn’t seem to take this hint so Phil decided to go for another bloody run and leave me their with this guy - I couldn’t think of anything I was LESS likely to choose to do at that moment than go for a run, but I swear the Canadian made it tempting.

Thankfully, I was saved by the bell by Irish Dan and had a lovely chat with him.

I spotted Phil returning and sort of hobbling on jellylegs as he made his way to me across the gardens. Turns out while on the run, a local had started running in front of him in crocs like he was racing him. Don’t know how accurate Phil was but he tried to catch him up and totally couldn’t. Then decided he would get a boda boda back as he was too tired to continue.

I can’t pretend I wasn’t ever so slightly pleased, considering he was all excited to go for a run the day after a massive trek and I couldn’t even tie my own shoelaces.

Phil then spotted something in the garden next door and ushered me over. ALL our laundry was laid out on the grass like some sort of car boot clothing sale. The lovely lady who’d washed it had done this to get it all dry. As most of it was dry, we folded it up to save her the job and then when we saw her gave her a juicy tip which she was buzzin about.

We noticed the restaurant staff putting the chairs away so this meant a storm was coming. We had a lovely sheltered balcony so we sat there as it rolled in and enjoyed the satisfaction of sitting outside but staying dry in a rainstorm. Is there anything better.

The waiter from the restaurant ran over in the rain to give us menus which was super nice and we ordered our food without having to move. Bangin.

He even bought the starter over to our room, an absolute touch.

We’d moved inside the tent by this point as the thunder & lightening had gone slightly crazy and Phil had done a poo in his pants. So the banana crisps and dip came inside the tent.

Well, this was a massive mistake.

The problem was that the dip was not a dip, it was chunks of tomato and raw onion with garlic and lime - a sort of ceviche salsa. I was so hungry that I ate most of it despite by huge aversion to raw onion (Phil was flabbergasted and a little disgusted).

And basically it completely STANK the place out. We didn’t realise until we came back after dinner, but it was like a raw onion party in our room. It actually burnt your nose to breathe.

The dinner we ordered was two rwandan dishes and we enjoyed both of them despite there being tofu involved.

Then bedtime in our separate beds (no much better) at the ripe ol’ time of 9:30pm.

[channimagine]

Chanyeol x Reader

Hi guys! Here’s part 2 of my Chanyeol x Youtuber!au I made few weeks ago. Last time, Chanyeol was doing his girlfriend’s makeup, so what about doing the opposite? Hope you’ll like it :3

Btw, here’s part 1 ! Enjoy~

_______________________________________________________________________

You were checking your camera, cleared your throat and looked at your boyfriend.

“Are you ready, honey?” you asked, with a smile.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea…?”

“Come on babe, you’ve already said yes…”

“I know I’m sorry. I’m a little stressed…”

You took his face on your hands and kissed the tip of his nose, smiling.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to worry about anything, I’ll do my best~” Your boyfriend smiled and kissed your nose back.

“Oh well, I’m not scared of that I know you’ll do good but you know… Doing makeup on a guy… People might think it’s weird…”

“Chanyeol…”

“I mean, I don’t want anyone to attack you on social medias…”

“You know I don’t care about them, and you shouldn’t too! We’re having fun and won’t let anyone say anything bad about this, okay? So, let’s enjoy our little moment okay~”

“Hmm alright…” he smiled.

“And don’t worry, you’ll look good!”

“Well I’m already a beauty, you know.”

“Please stop. Okay, ready…” you turned the camera on. “Hi guys, welcome back to my channel! Today, because you guys were like 1556854 to ask another video with my boyfriend Chanyeol… here he is.” 

Chanyeol raised his hand with a shy smile and looked at the camera and then you.

“Yup. It’s me, ya boy…”

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

“Alright!! I don’t know if you guys remember, but last time Chanyeol was there, he did my makeup for the first time in his life. So, this time, we decided I’ll do his makeup, for the first time! How do you feel about this, honey?”

“Well… Stressed. Does it hurt?”

“What?”

“All those… pencils and brushes on your face…” Chaneyol was speaking slowly, and touching his skin, looking concerned. You laughed and caressed his cheek.

“Aw don’t worry honey I’m not gonna hurt you…”

“I have faith in you, so please don’t destroy me, okay?”

You both laughed a little.

“Okay I’ll do my best! Are you ready to look like a king?”

“Yup!”

“Okay so…” you were searching for some things all around the table, in front of you. “I’m going for a soft look okay?”

“Alright…”

“Good. Put that on your skin, I have to find my blinder, I think I’ve lost it…” you gave a little tube to Chanyeol. He considered it for a moment and opened it carefully.

“What is this…?”

“A primer, honey.”

“A primer? For what?” Chanyeol squeezed the tube a little bit and put some primer on his finger. “Where should I put it?”

“On your face Channie. It prepares your skin and stuff like that- Ah I’ve found my blinder!”

Chanyeol was shyly applying primer on his cheek, confused. You giggled a little and put some more on his forehead, nose and eyes.

“Okay that’s better~ Let’s start with the eyes… I’m going to use brownish, reddish colors for this look. All the products are listed on the description down bellow, by the way!”

“It’s going to be so painful…”

“No, I’m gentle, don’t worry!” you kissed his cheek and gave him a sweet smile. “All right, first, I’m going to start with a light base, so the color will pop-up when I’ll apply it… Close your eyes.”

Chanyeol closed his eyes and you started applying the light base on his eyelid, trying to be as gentle as possible.

“Am I hurting you?” you asked.

“Hmm no. I have to say it’s a little uncomfortable, but that’s fine.”

“Cool~ Now, I’m going to apply this brownish color. Pretty right? And then this reddish.”

You showed it to your boyfriend and then to the camera. He smiled, looking at the pretty colors and closed his eyes again.

“How did you lean all of this…?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“To to apply makeup and stuff.”

“I guess I learned all by myself. I learned thanks to tutorials on the internet!”

“Hmm I see. It’s impressive…”

You smiled, trying to stay focused on what you were doing.

“Thanks, Channie you’re cute. But you know, it’s the same thing for you: you learned to play the guitar all by yourself.”

“Yeah it’s true.”

“All right! I’m done here! Have a look.” You gave him a little mirror, smiling. “Tell me what you think.”

Chanyeol look at himself in the mirror with a smile, feeling great about his look.

“Wow. I… I look good.”

“Of course, you do, idiot. Alright, let me but some glitters, now. This has to GLOW.”

“Hey, I don’t want to be like a disco ball, Y/N.”

“You won’t, don’t worry. I’m a professional~”

“Oh well.”

You put some glitters on his eyes, proudly looked at your master piece and then started working on the foundation.

“Okay let’s take this shade…”

“Isn’t it a little too light for me?”

“No I think it will be perfect with contouring.”

“… okay??”

Chanyeol watched you carefully putting some foundation on a beauty blinder and applying it on his face, by softly patting his skin.

“Am I hurting you, honey?”

“Not at all. It’s quite relaxing, to be honest.”

“Okay good! It’s nearly finished. I just have to lighten some zones or make others darker… and we’ll be good!”

“Waw it’s really hard and long…”

“It’s because I want you to look like a real king!”

“You’re cute Y/N.”

You smiled and kissed the top of his nose.

“Alright. Next step: contouring.”

“…”

“It’s okay, it’s basically the same thing but with other colors.”

“Oh nice.”

“You really like that blinder, right?”

“It feels soft on the face!!”

“Yeah I guess…” 

You took your brushes with a little smile on your face and started contouring his face. Your boyfriend took a look at the mirror next him, and raised an eyebrow.

“…why do I look like I have some paint on my face, right now?”

“It’s because makeup is an art and you’re my canvas~” you winked.

“…did you just flirt with me?”

“It was too much, right?”

“That was pretty funny.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be funny!!”

Chanyeol laughed and kissed your hand as an apology.

“Alright you giant, let me finish this.”

“Yes please~”

You quickly finished what you had to do to make a beautiful skin for your boyfriend and started working on the eyebrows.

“Okay don’t move. … I SAID DON’T MOVE.”

“I’m sorry, it tickles!!”

“How??”

“How can I know?”

“…”

“…”

“You have pretty eyebrows, to be honest.”

“Thank you princess.”

“You’re welcome, honey.”

You finished and took your eye-shadow pallet once again. Chanyeol looked at you with concerned eyes.

“Again? You said you were done with the eyes!”

“No, I need to work on your under-eyes and… eye liner.”

“…No please.”

“I’m sorry but you knew it was going to happen sooner or later.”

“Can’t you skip this step?”

“Are you kidding me this is the most important thing! Alright, take a deep breath don’t move a single finger, okay?”

“I don’t want to die.”

“You’ll die if you move, Chanyeol so stay focused!”

Chanyeol did as you said and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. You took your liner pencil and started drawing a thin line on his eyelid. When you were too close to his lashes, your boyfriend made a little sound, to make you understand how uncomfortable he was.

“I’m almost finished, don’t worry.”

“Hmm…”

“Okay! I’m done!”

“Finally!”

“Now, let’s do the other one.”

“NO.”

After a moment of negotiation, you were finally able to do the other eye. You was faster with this one than the other, because Chanyeol was holding his breath a little too much, and you were scared he might die.

“Ta-dah!”

“Oh my god finally.”

“You look beautiful, honey.”

“Thanks, but please, don’t touch my eye with that pencil of the devil ever again.”

“Alright~ Look at your gorgeous self in the mirror now! …and please don’t cry, you’re going to ruin my master piece.”

“You’re so heartless…” 

He took the mirror, pouting and then saw his reflect in it. He blinked and looked closer. 

“Wow. I’m probably going to fall in love with myself, I look so damn cute.”

“Well, you’re welcome??”

“You’ve done a pretty good job, here! Thanks baby!”

“Hmm…”

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel like something is missing.”

“Really?”

“…do you want to get cuter?”

“…are you really asking??”

“Okay don’t move!!”

You left the room, leaving Chanyeol alone in front of the camera, admiring himself.

“Not gonna lie, I look pretty gorgeous.” He looked at the camera, and moved his eyebrows, making a flirty smirk. “Hello ladies and gentlemen, here’s your handsome boi Park Chanyeol, please don’t fall in love with me…”

“What are you saying, Chanyeol…”

“Nothing babe~”

“Okay, I got you some fake eyelashes and some brushes to make fake freckles! What do you think?”

“Is it going to make me look cuter?”

“Definitely.”

“What are you waiting for, then?”

You took the fake eyelashes and put some special glue on it. Chanyeol looked at you, confused.

“…what the fuck is that?”

“Glue.”

“…are you really going to put that on my eyes?” he asking, pointing at the glue with his finger.

“Yup. It’s safe don’t worry!”

“It doesn’t look safe at all!”

“Stop complaining and come here, you crybaby. I’m doing this everyday.”

You put the two eyelashes on and looked at him, with a smile. 

“… You look amazing.”

“It’s heavy…”

“Yeah but you look cuter!”

“Right…”

“Now, the freckles.”

“Please tell me this is not going to be painful.”

“Nah you’re gonna love it, I’m using my beauty blender.”

“YES.”

You smiled and took several brown pencils and made little dots on his upper-cheeks and his nose. Then you took your blinder and toned down the little dots.

“Waw this looks super cute.” You said.

“I AM super cute.”

“Please don’t speak, I need concentration.”

“Hehe~”

“And…here we are~ You’re now the cut- WAIT no you’re not.”

“Why?”

“I forgot about the lips, wait.”  

“Oh right.”

You took your favorite liquid lipstick and applied it on your boyfriend’s lips, and then admired your masterpiece, finally completed.

“All right! Now you’re officially the cutest boy in the entire galaxy~”

“Please give me the mirror!!” he took it and smiled to himself. “Wah you’re right I look pretty cute~ Thank you Y/N you did an amazing job~”

“Hehe you’re welcome!” you smiled to you boyfriend, and he came closer to the camera.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen, it’s me again, you’re boi. Now my transformation is finally completed, and I’m the prettiest boi alive… Once again, if you fall in love with me, I’m not responsible…~”

“Are you done, yet?”

You boyfriend laughed a little, as a reply. After a moment, you finally said goodbye to the camera and tuned it off.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Please, can you teach me how to do those freckles? And the liner is pretty cool too… And how do you apply foundation properly??”

You proudly smiled at him and took his face in your hands. You gave him a soft kiss on the forehead and smiled.

“I will!”

“Thank you, Y/N, you’re the best!”

_______________________________________________________________________

It’s finally done!! I’m not gonna lie, this made me want to do my boyfriend’s makeup but UH he’ll probably cry at every step.

Hope you guys liked anyway (tell me if you did :3) it and if you have suggestions, please tell me, my ask box is fully open! :3

[dramatoonreviews-blog]

Movie Review : The Fault In Our Stars

Genres - Romance, Tragedy

Year - 2014

Language – English

RATING 5/10

Summary -

A girl named Hazel, who has cancer, met and fell in love with a boy named Augustus, who also has cancer.

(BTW, I know I wrote summary but that is literally the plot of the movie)

Reasons to watch it -

When I first decided to watch this in 2014, it was for a few reasons:-

I loved the book

It was so hyped that it was impossible not watch it

I am a fan of anything and everything romance.

Main guy looked really hot and I have a thing for tall guys

And because I’m a masochist (Not really), I have a thing for tragedies.

When I decided to watch in 2018, it was for a few reasons:-

I, still, loved the book

I watched another romance recently that made me feel nostalgic enough to watch this again

Movie – Good or Bad -

That is a very interesting question, with many different facets to it. Sounds pretentious. The whole movie sounds like it.

(2014) First time, I watched this, I loved it. I really did. I was a purely unadulterated YA (young adult)-loving obsessive fangirl. I would bug my friends with quotes from the movie. I would bug them into reading the book and, then, watching the movie. (Bug / Beg - No difference in my books). And as far as I was concerned, this was an excellent piece of cinema. Needless to say, I wasn't unbiased and I was too easily influenced by hype.

(2018) Since becoming older and more mature and, you know, enli, when I watch this now, I feel supremely uncomfortable.

My Internal Dialogues - "Dear God, was I really obsessed with this movie??!! What was wrong with me??!!".

"Fangirling.....fangirling was the only reason" My wise 2018 self responds to my easily influenced 2014 self *being enlightened*

To quote the movie - The thing about PAIN is that it demands to be felt!!! And in the case of this movie, it truly does!!!!!

To be fair, it's not a terrible movie. I was just so obsessed with this, back then, I'm just surprised I don't feel as much as I did back then. The beauty of this situation is that it opens my eyes to the other wonderful moments in this film, put in new perspective, that I more or less ignored before.

Reason for My Reaction (2018) -

Story - The story.......the story is, quite literally, a boy and girl in love, who happens to have cancer. They don't really do anything new in the romance department or the tragedy department. Which if fine. U don't really need to do something new for it to be a good story. So, bottom line, the story was good.

Dialogues - Now, here is where I had a serious problem with this movie. I get that there are some teenagers who are more mature than others. But these 2 talk like they're 90 years old or just plain pretentious. To be fair, they talk the same way the characters talk in the books. But this is where the acting review comes in.

Acting - Shailene Woodley is wonderful at emoting. She just keeps getting better at it as movies and TV-shows go by. Like I said, she keeps getting better. This is not her best work. I mean, she was amazing. However, there were a few areas where I was cringing from her dialogue delivery. But not nearly as much as I was getting goosebumps from how terrible Ansel Elgort was. When it was flirty dialogues, he came off as a smirking know-it-all super-pretentious jock. When it was heart-breaking dialogues, he came off as an actor acting. Nowhere did he come across as Augustus Waters. The one thing he had in common with him was that he was handsome. He is, picturesquely, Augustus Waters. But that's it. He could never manage to lift Augustus Waters of the pages of the book. I would like to give special mention to Nat Wolff. He was brilliant as a supporting character, Isaac. At times, his pain and rage about his helplessness, was so on point that I wished he was Augustus Waters.

Direction - The director, Josh Boone, did justice to the book, how much ever he could. Moments that should have been captured were perfectly captured.

Music - There needs to be a special mention for the soundtrack and background music. This brought tears to my eyes. Like I said, the director did the best he could, especially with the last scene of this movie, with the background song, was so heart-breakingly perfect, even Ansel Elgort couldn't screw it up.

Is it worth watching?

Honestly, for a one time watch, sure. Actually, just to see Nat Wolff, a few Shailene Woodley moments, and with particular emphasis on the last scene of the movie, that was beautiful in 2014 and 2018, it's good enough. But fair warning -

If you have read the book, then prepare to be disappointed.

If you haven't, then prepare to be left feeling like you have a bad after-taste in your mouth.

[not-poignant]

You won't disclose personal stuff but it's okay if we ask like, for advice and stuff right? Do you have any resource materials on trauma? The generic material I find just...miss the mark. Same but for overstimulation (from like gentleness, painless experiences make me uncomfortable af) and being touch starved. Is it, like a thing I can learn about? It is very distressing in my everyday life and before reading your stuff it was just plain awkward. I thought I was just being stupid. Thanks, Love.

Always fine with people asking for advice with the standard caveats that I’m just one noodle floating around in a world of a lot of other noodles and I definitely don’t have my personal life or anything sorted out and I’m no substitute for therapy / counsellors etc. :D And I am not a therapist whee.

As for resources, tbh, I haven’t found a great deal. I’ve read a lot of books on trauma over the years (and I own a lot) and there’s two I’d tentatively recommend to folks with trauma. They are:

The Body Remembers by Babette Rothschild, which is fantastic. Looks at a cross-section of trauma (i.e. war vets / rape victims / but also people who have been bitten by dogs and can’t handle dogs, so it’s not like idk... discriminating between types of trauma - because some books do this).

The reason I like this book is because it looks at body-trapped and body-centred trauma, and also looks at the ways in which bodies can process trauma and how we can even release it potentially through the body, and bypass cognitive thought. Potential downsides are that it’s not really written for clients, it’s written for practicioners, so you’ll be looking at a lot of therapist-centred advice, but there are also really helpful case studies and so on. Additionally, while it suggests exercises a client can try, most of those exercises are intended to be used in conjunction with a therapist in a trusted safe space. It’s pretty possible to extract some of those exercises into your personal life though, but I’d suggest being cautious with it, because a lot of trauma healing tends to come from developing a trusting relationship with someone else and knowing you won’t get hurt in the process.

The other is The Trauma Spectrum by Robert Scaer. This is an academic book by a neurologist turned psychologist, who became fascinated with untreatable or resistant pain disorders that seemed to develop after trauma, especially heart-related and joint-related disorders after car accidents, where - as a neurologist - he could find no tangible reason for the pain even though the pain was real. Through study, he became fascinated with body-based trauma. This book is essentially a long academic exploration of the physiological nature of trauma.

I love this personally, because I find nothing more validating than very long academic articles saying exactly why trauma fucks you up, and what chemicals are behind that, and what that does to the body etc. Downsides include that this is more aimed at therapists again, and not clients, and is pretty dense in its language. But upsides include exploration into new ways of looking at trauma (not just cognitive behavioural therapy) and is particularly useful for people who have body-based expressions of anxiety or trauma that resist treatment (like ongoing pain that can’t be diagnosed, fibromyalgia when it’s linked to trauma, digestion issues, vertigo etc.)

There’s no websites I’ve ever used for support that have actually been supportive, and there is almost nothing out there for touch-starved people. I have never seen a single thing about people who’ve had problems with gentleness (which I can too, btw, so I feel you there, it’s shitty as fuck). That’s partly because ‘touch-starved’ - while a physiological, real thing, is something where fandom tends to be ahead of the curve re: psychology. In that sense, you’re more likely to find transformative ideas for how to potentially heal from touch-starvation / touch-phobias etc. via fanfiction that deals specifically with those subjects.

I spent a while with a pretty severe touch phobia (while still needing and wanting touch), so I spent a long time craving and trying to track down resources to help me with this. Maybe some things have come out in the past four years, but I am sorry to tell you that there’s pretty much nothing out there specifically on this subject (or at least, there wasn’t). There’s probably individual case studies around, but there’s no like...there’s nothing really very satisfactory. I’ve done way more to heal my issues with this stuff via writing fanfiction than through resources (and that’s the same for trauma, tbh).

I mean you can find plenty of articles on why being touch-starved is bad for you, and you’ll hear those like...repeated stories of monkeys who die of starvation and malnutrition without touch and so on. Or babies who languish without touch. But in terms of ‘when you’re a touch-starved adult and what you can do about it’ resources, things are thin on the ground. You may wish to look into cuddle parties, which are generally non-sexual cuddle parties with a heavy emphasis on consent, designed to allow people access to hugs etc. in a safe environment.

I do think there’s more news articles about touch-starvation and its pervasiveness in contemporary culture, and how this links to sex practices and so on but they’re written as feature article pieces and not as useful things that can be done to help with the subject.

Basically there was no book or website that specifically helped me with touch-starvation, or even trauma. Most trauma writing tends to be aimed at war vets because that’s where the funding is. A lot of trauma writing is still pretty ‘oldschool’ in that it is cognitive behavioural therapy focused (talk focused) or alternatively is a psychologist trying to ‘brand’ a new type of therapy and so is super ‘use this amazing new!thing to Fix Your Trauma (TM)’ and then isn’t realistic about the fact that most people tend to need a multi-modality approach to helping themselves with trauma.

I’d suggest perhaps going to a local library or something and looking through their resources on trauma books, and getting yourself - if you don’t already have it - a good grounding in the different types of therapies used for helping with trauma, and also then a good idea of how diverse different case studies and techniques can be. From there, it’s sometimes necessary to develop different methods that work for you. But it’s a pretty intense process, not to mention the fact that a lot of these books will conveniently never mention issues to do with touch, except for perhaps: ‘X patient had problems with having sex but then after applying X amount of therapy sessions started having sex again satisfactorily.’ Or whatever.

It’s not really helpful for us, right?

I wish I had better news and better recommendations. There are probably trauma tumblrs which are more up-to-date with resources coming out, but I stopped actively looking a few years ago because I just got really exhausted with that sense of ‘oh yes I know about trauma and the parasympathetic and sympathetic nervous systems but what can I do about it’ and tbh writing what I’ve written (and reading similar things) has been way more useful for me personally.

I guess as a final thing, I’d say it’s worth sitting down and asking yourself what you want to resolve, and what you want that to look like. I.e. whether it looks like friendships with non-sexual physical intimacy like hugging, and so on. You probably have some images in your head of things you crave but can’t have right now. Things you miss that you could have, or things you’ve never had that you come back to over and over again.

Breaking that down into ‘if I could get this thing, what form would it come in, and what is my ideal and what would be acceptable on the way to that ideal (knowing that ideals are generally not realistic etc. but a good thing to aim for)’ might help you narrow down what sort of research, books and communities you need to look into. It also might help you see what sort of steps you could take to achieve those things. Sometimes with touch and sensory issues, it starts with visualising getting the thing, imagining it being satisfying instead of triggery (and making notes of what that looks like so you know your boundaries and limits for real life), and just starting to role-model to yourself that it can be safe in your mind.

It may also be worth looking into books that explore touch issues with people who are on the autism spectrum and/or have sensory processing disorders, because more research has been done there with more techniques suggested, and sometimes trauma symptoms can parallel and therefore like, where trauma psychology hasn’t caught up yet, there can be places elsewhere that might help (for example, it was realising I had Asperger’s and learning that people with Asperger’s often prefer firm touch over very soft gentle touch, that I actually made a pretty big leap forward with my own touch phobia in terms of what I needed to ask from people - this might not be the same for you, obviously, but you might be more likely to find resources written by people with sensory processing disorders or issues, than within the trauma community itself. Trauma psychology is sometimes really like...hyperfocused on one thing (minimising flashbacks) over like...other things that are super necessary).

I apologise that this wasn’t more useful! A lack of resources is in part why I’ve had PTSD since 1997, and why I’m not on top of this stuff yet (also stubbornness, I’m very stubborn lol). So I know it can be distressing, and how much it can like...erode resources and just eat away at a capacity for personal contentment and so on. There’s a real disconnect between ‘usefulness of resources’ and ‘applications to actual people living actual lives’ and I think in part it is because trauma is Hard and Complicated and also that a lot of resources are super post-war focused again, because funding issues. :/

[rininwaterloo]

Breastfeeding (tmi)

I was not prepared for how difficult it would be! 

First off, it doesn’t come naturally. It’s a new skill that one has to learn, much like riding a bike. Instead of falling over and getting scrapes and bruises, your little one screams and bursts your eardrums and breaks your heart because she knows how to suck, but you don’t know how to position the nipple properly for her to latch on. During the first few days, I could only get her to latch when a nurse or lactation consultant was there to show me how. To be honest, some of the nurses seem to take Chloe’s head and just JAM IT onto my boob. I was terrified it would suffocate her, but babies are able to get their noses really close to the boob and still breathe (amazing!), and if they’re uncomfortable, trust me, they will let you know. And it honestly did make me feel like a failure of a mum. Why couldn’t I feed my own baby? During her first 24 hours, trying to get her to latch by myself was so stressful, I just gave up and instead fed her colostrum using a wee plastic spoon. But she was gaining weight fine, and I was able to satiate her hunger this way. (First few days is what they call ‘liquid gold’, colostrum, your milk comes in a few days later).

Second, while we were both getting the hang of breastfeeding, it was extremely painful, tender and sore. Lansinoh’s lanolin cream/ointment is a godsend. Now that she’s a bit older, we have no trouble latching on but she likes to clamp down with her gummy toothless gums to show how hungry she was, or pull back painfully because she’s either tired or fussy or goodness knows what else. The cream is a must before hopping into the shower! 

Third, the ‘letdown’ is a tingly feeling (or in my case, daggers and like my boobs are on the brink of exploding) when your boobs release milk. Like your body’s way of saying ‘this batch of milk is ready and good to go’! It usually happens about a minute into feeding, but it happens at random times when my hyper active boobs are ready to be emptied. Release milk is the most PG way of saying your nipples leak milk, whether or not there is bubba’s mouth there feeding or not. When my milk first came in, I woke up and my t-shirt was completely soaked. I was so shocked and like WTF is going on?!? So anyways, yay for having a good milk supply but nay for having a tad too much. Because of hyperlactation, my letdown is super forceful and hurts like a bitch. It’s so forceful, I can, and have, squirt(ed) milk a considerable distance. I have gotten milk all over my child, the couch, the bed, blankets, the floor, just.. yeah. Baby girl almost always chokes when the letdown happens as she’s feeding and she unlatches to cough and splutter. :( But yeah, I am extremely grateful that I am able to exclusively breastfeed!

Lansinoh nursing pads are the best btw! This is not sponsored in any shape or form, but I wish it was. I have already gone through hundreds of nursing pads and invested in reusable bamboo nursing pads (they’re alright, but bulky af and make my boobs like they were minecrafted (can I use it as a verb like that?)

[monsieur-darling-blog]

The Taylor Swift Break Up Playlist

I remember the feelings stronger than the words that were said. Isn’t that how a breakup always goes? At twenty-nine, I’ve had my fair share of those. My first was when I was twenty-one. I threw a cellphone at my soon-to-be-ex’s head and told him I hoped he die. When I was twenty-six, I had another, more gut-wrenching than the first, where my boyfriend called to tell me he didn’t want to be with me any longer. He decided to dissolve our romance at his dentist’s office and couldn’t wait for me to get to my apartment and tell me in person. And then there were those relationships that just fizzled into nothingness, where no one got hurt or responded to a “Where do you want to get dinner?” text. But my most recent, which occurred less than twenty-four-hours ago, has left me in an emotional state I’ve never faced until now. I’ve been blindsided.

I met him as most people do: online. I swiped right because he was cute and mentioned that he liked red wine and Taylor Swift in his profile (I know, I’m fucking pathetic). I messaged him within the hour of our matching and asked him what his favorite song from each of Taylor’s albums is. He responded within another hour with his answer and asked for my own. I reviewed his picks carefully; after all, this was a potential mate. I should’ve noticed the negative signs radiating off my cellphone screen when he announced that his favorite song from Reputation was “So It Goes”. But I didn’t. Instead, I sent him mine. Just like that, our relationship progressed from online sexting to real, “see-you-in-a-bar” dates.

Our first date started on bad footing. The bar we planned to meet at was hosting a private event. So we walked awkwardly through the brownstone-lined streets of Boerum Hill, in search of a beer for me and vodka for him (he had an “allergy” to beer, another major red flag). We tried to make small talk. He decided to take me to some low-lit hipster bar, who’s name I can no longer recall. While we sat, we talked about our families and found conversation in our similarities: we were both one of six children, the only full-blooded from of our father’s, and lived in New England. The majority of my friends in New York hail from the West, so I haven’t been able to relate to someone about what it was like growing up in an quaint, Hallmark-card town until that moment. I admit, I was interested to learn more about him. We left the bar and meandered to another, where I proceeded to feel the tingle in my fingers and realized I was tipping off the edge of buzzed and into drunker territories. I can’t recall anything we spoke about at that place but I know that I was becoming intensely attracted to his sheer masculinity. He was tall, hairy, and had blue eyes and a husky voice. I wanted to bring him home that night just to see what he was working with. Instead, a took a Lyft and left him behind with nothing but a kiss to remember me by.

But, miraculously (by today’s dating standards, anyway), he texted me the next day. And then I texted him the day after that. And so on and so forth until we had been on multiple dates, all with mundane similarities. Dark bars: check. Getting drunk because we’re too awkward to have “real” conversation: check. Talking about nothing until we both forgot what the other had said: check. The only thing I can recall from this time period happened after I drunkenly stumbled out of a bathroom and took my seat beside him. We drank martinis after chugging a carafe of wine at dinner. I asked him about his corporate holiday party, which he had idiotically invited me to earlier that week. He said it was an enjoyable experience but mentioned that I had missed out. Then we had a true open-discussion, probably our first. I mentioned that it would be weird for someone he had just started hanging out with to be at his work party. He told me, “Well, I would’ve introduced you as my boyfriend” and shrugged, as though it were nothing.

That’s all it took for me to put things into high gear. He mentioned boyfriends and I was thought things were going to be serious. I don’t know why, I guess I’m crazy. He left that week for Christmas in Connecticut but we continued to text the entire time, mostly about mundane things like working from home and drinking with your family. Meanwhile, I was digging out little things he was saying, romanticizing these bullshit lines he was feeding me, such as, “Morning! Hope your days starting off alright with work. You make cranky look good btw”/“Wow this wasn’t what I expected but I love it and you’re adorable”/“Wow just making me more excited to see you soon good job” blah blah blah trash.

When he came back to New York, we made lunch plans. I trekked in a downpour to meet him in Tribeca at some shitty, overpriced Mexican restaurant so he could eat the majority of my meal and we could, once again, have timid conversation face to face. I asked him about coming to my apartment, or vice versa, something that we still hadn’t done, which I thought was super weird since we’d seen each other so regularly. If I’m your “boyfriend” to your coworkers, shouldn’t I at least see where you live? When I mentioned that I wanted him to come watch a movie, he tensed up and deflected from the question. It wasn’t until later in the day, after I escaped him and ran to the nearest bar to take a Fireball shot on my own, I got the nerve to mention that my feelings were kind of hurt. I asked him if he was into me. He said, “Yes I definitely am. Feel the same way?” Which I responded, “Yes, duh!”

Him:“Good! Mind if I ask why the random question?”

Me: “I kinda got the vibe when I brought up you coming to my apt that you weren’t really down.”

Him: “I’ll be honest I just got a bit nervous about it because i want to and I know we talked about it before and going to each other’s places etc but I did and do and will but in an effort to try and play it cool at fear of saying something dub I came off as uninterested and I’m sorry I made you feel that way :) like I said I’m very interested in you.”

Me: “Well no worries I don’t think anything you say is dumb”

^^^^ PROBABLY THE DUMBEST THING I COULD SAY ^^^^

Me (cont.): “And I def don’t want to put pressure on you, but I just wanted to make sure you’re into me like I am into you.”

Him: “You’re not putting pressure and if anything I appreciate you asking to make sure, I would do the same thing. Can definitely say we’re into each other because I know I’m really into you. Hence the movie hangs this weekend and whatever happens to our NYE”

Me: “Lame ass Emojis… okay! Thank you for saying that. I can’t wait for NYE with you.”

Him: “Of course and neither can I honestly it’ll be fun and very cute.”

Cut to Saturday night. He came over so we could watch “A Simple Favor.” We watched in near silence, but once the movie eventually ended, we moved to my bedroom and took our clothes off. I knew he was a top (because, like a real class act, he put it in his tinder bio) and normally so am I. I thought the wine would help prepare me to bottom, but I noticed it was wearing off and I flat out told him that I wasn’t drunk enough to fuck. I, being the gentleman that I am, said that I respected him and all that shit that I didn’t actually think just so I wouldn’t have to deal with the repercussion of having something shoved inside me, and the painful morning it would bring. Thankfully, he let it slide and we just grouped each other. I don’t know if it was because we were naked on my bed, but I definitely became more uninhibited and we discussed our New Year’s Eve plans. I mentioned that I would call him my boyfriend to my friends and he smiled and said okay. I wanted to be in something real, something validated, a relationship, and as a twenty-nine-year-old I feel one hundred percent okay with wanting something serious. He decided not to sleep over because I had to get up at 7:30 in the morning. Another red flag, maybe? At this point, I think I just chose to ignore them.

Then it was the big New Year’s Eve night. It was raining again, but that didn’t dim my shine. On the contrary, I was wearing the most ridiculous sequined blazer that I scored over Christmas, along with a pair of sparkly Jimmy Choo’s. I looked like I stepped off the low brow version of a Balmain runway. Earlier that day, we discussed Taylor’s new Netflix special. We couldn’t wait for the night to commence. I was excited to be out and about with my new man, proudly showing him off to everyone, like an extension of my blinged out accessorizing. He looked good, for the most part. In a turtleneck and blazer he whipped up the grossest martini I’ve ever consumed (waaaaay too heavy on the vermouth) but like the perfect fucking “boyfriend” I swallowed that shit down and said it was fine. He threw on a yellow glittery hat that I should’ve thought looked stupid but instead decided was cute. We stepped out into the night and landed at one of my best friend’s apartments, only two blocks away.

I consciously decided to introduce him by name to everyone, rather than “boyfriend” because I felt weird about it. But as the hour ticked by, and I tossed back more Bud Light’s, I once again felt lowered in my inhibitions. A friend of a friend pointed to him while I was grabbing another drink from the refrigerator and said, “Who’s that guy in the yellow hat?” And then I tried it out, probably from jealousy, but also because I really wanted to claim him as mine. I said, “That’s my boyfriend. Do you want to me him?” Not realizing that I was probably weirding the guy out. When I brought him over, they exchanged formalities, and the friend of a friend immediately left for another party, probably because I embarrassed him. My bad.

“My boyfriend” wanted to go to his sister's New Year party to watch the ball drop. I felt ridiculously uncomfortable meeting his family this early on, but it was something he wanted to do, so I decided to bite my tongue and say that I was fine with it. It was very low-key, a group of people either my age or a little older, around a cheese plate. I tried my hardest to be social and polite, engaging these people in the stories about their lives, telling me things that I would probably forget about come morning time.

And after the ball dropped (on a delay) and I got my New Year’s Kiss, we proceeded to yet another party, this time with his friend’s rather than relatives. We stood beside each other the entire time, snapping pics, talking to the other guests, holding hands, ringing in the New Year. I was happy to be around him and excited for all the good things that were coming in 2019, potentially with him. I passed out in his bed and when I woke up, I harassed him while he continued to nod off, cuddling him, trying to squeeze him so tightly that he could physically feel how happy I was to be there. He giggled, got me Advil, kissed me, and things felt good. We walked to a cafe for bagels and while we sat at the window, I saw his face change. He wasn’t smiling anymore. It was like something had dawned on him and I immediately became worried. My own hangover started to kick back in, so I told myself I was being paranoid. I walked to Atlantic Avenue, took the train home, and took two huge bong rips. When I resurfaced from my self-inflicted coma, hours later, everything had changed.

For three days, I felt super paranoid. I couldn’t shake the feeling, no matter how much I smoked or how much wine I drank. He stopped texting me good morning. He seemed uninterested in how my day was going or what my plans were. Something was off and I went to my two best friends for advice. They both said I needed to take a step back and breathe: everything was fine. I tried that. We made plans for Saturday night. We’d hang out at one of our apartments. He didn’t seem all that interested in though, so I said we would hang only if he wanted to. He told me it’d “be good” to see me which I overanalyzed, took as something that he didn’t actually want to do, and started to feel like things were falling apart. But then on Friday, I caved and texted him. I told him that I hoped he was having a good day. He reciprocated in the way he used to. He was animated. He punctuated everything with an exclamation mark for crying out loud! He asked me if I wanted to meet him for a drink. We’d check out Ward III in Tribeca after we finished working. I was elated. I even told one of my friends that I was no longer worried, everything was fine, he wanted to hang out again. Whew.

So at 7:00 I walked down West Broadway until I finally hit Reade Street. I knew the route well, it’s right near one of my train stops. I waited for him outside for nearly fifteen minutes, listening to SZA, wishing I had a cigarette. When he finally showed up, he kissed me. We walked into the bar and he ordered drinks. That’s when things started to become a blur. He was aggressive, terse in his words, and I called him out on it. His teeth were dark: he had drank wine at work before he came to meet me. I asked him if everything was okay. He said they were. I mentioned our plans for the next day and he said, “Well, we’ll see what mood I’m in.” I started to get irritated so I asked, “Well do you even want to hang out?”

He smiled and said, “No.” My stomach dropped. My intuition was confirmed. He didn’t want to see me. I asked him why. He said, “I brought you here to talk about that. I don’t think I’m ready to be in a relationship.” I asked him why again. I can’t remember how many times I asked him why. He gave me the same stupid excuses of the men who get scared of commitment. He felt things were getting too intense. I mentioned that he was the one that brought up exclusivity to begin with. He said he wasn’t. I reminded him of the time he brought up us being boyfriends. He said that he didn’t know what else to say. I asked him why he didn’t just tell me before New Years, before I had told people that we were together, before I made myself look like a fucking idiot. His response was that he couldn’t do it when I brought it up on my own because we were both naked in my bed. “What was I supposed to do? Put my pants on and leave?” Yes. That’s exactly what you should’ve done. It would’ve been less awkward then telling me in a packed bar, where people were looking at us, seeing me flail my arms in exasperation, trying to get him to tell me the truth, trying to cling to any feelings he might still have for me. I asked if there was another person. He said no, but I don’t believe him. I asked him what had changed in three days. He kept saying his own feelings. I desperately asked if he wanted to hang out again. He said that he bought me a beer and we could still hang out as friends tonight. I got angry, chugged the beer he bought me, snatched my backpack from the floor, and ran out of the bar, towards the train and tried to remember everything he had said, but it appeared that my sudden heartbreak had clouded all the terrible words he had said. I couldn’t believe what had transpired. I felt like I wasted so much time (really only a month), thinking things were going so well because he couldn’t be a decent person and be honest with me from the get-go. I couldn’t believe that he was laughing at me, making me sound like everything was in my head, even though I knew it wasn’t.

I know he had feelings for me. That was obvious. But I couldn’t believe how cruel he had become in those fifteen minutes. It was like he switched personalities, Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde style. I was incapable of really listening to what he was saying, instead choosing to hear the things that he wasn’t. He said it was all on him. I knew it was actually all because of me. I got home, turned on all the lights in my apartment, and threw on a movie. I waited until my roommates came home before I told them the story of what happened, why I was already drunk from a giant bottle of Malbec. They listened to me, like all loyal people do, and said all the things good friends say: that he was just an idiot, that I dodged a bullet, that they could tell we were both getting ahead of ourselves. I was still sad, though. But when my roommate grabbed my face with his hands and smacked me, lightly, across the face, telling me to “Take a walk and write about it,” I knew that I had two options. I could revel in sadness over another failed attempt at romance. Or I could get my shit together and take the last month for what it was: another feeble attempt at dating in New York.

The next morning, I got out of bed. Sadness still lingered in my body but it was replaced by something stronger. I felt angry and stupid. Time and time again, I tell myself not to get attached too easy. Whenever I start something new, I try not to over analyze anything. With him, I did good. I made progress compared to my other, more all-consuming romances. I didn’t mention him or our “relationship” to anyone until the week leading up to New Years. I let it be something fun and personal with no expectation. But I took his kinder words to heart and that’s where the confusion began. I went for a walk this morning. I searched on my Spotify account for a specific album. It was Taylor Swift’s “Red.” I hit play on “State of Grace” and started walking down the sidewalk. My initial decision was to go to the Co-Op in my neighborhood and get groceries. Instead, I walked past it. I walked to the park. I walked past the park to Park Slope. I walked past Park Slope to Atlantic-Barclays, where I turned towards the East and knew he was probably laying around, hoping he was thinking about me, realizing he probably wasn’t. I walked further. I ended up walking for five miles, all the way to my train’s first stop in Brooklyn. I listened to “Red” in it’s entirety, then switched to “1989″ and listened to all of that, and then most of “Reputation” and tried to garner truth from Taylor’s words. I was annoyed that he ruined one of my favorite artists for me. Now, whenever I’d hear one of her songs, I’d think of him. But I also let the sadness envelope me. I needed to feel these things in order to make real progress towards discovering things about myself I didn’t want to confront: my neediness, my desire to be in something with substance, the comfort of feeling a warm body beside my own, all in all my motivation to find love in a place I’m starting to think doesn’t exist.

I waited for the Q to take me back home where I could compile my thoughts and write this essay. I don’t know if the things I’ve learned about myself from him will stick. The small wound in my gut is still too fresh. So what I can take from this short-lived fling are the fuzzy memories of prospect. Now, I’m stuck thinking about the way the electricity between people can ignite and implode. I hope that I will feel the spark again, with someone better, more mature, and that the feeling will stay.

[awellboiledicicle]

I had a Fallout 4 dream last night.

I was the sole survivor, as I usually am when i dream about being in that game, but I had appearantly been signed up for... some form of testing.  To keep my family fed.  Because Nate, my Nate, was injured in a battle up around Anchorage. Not the battle of Anchorage, not something big that would have gotten a medal-- though the purple heart sat on the dresser-- but a smaller one involving personnel carriers and stealth battalians and a strain of the plague that the government swore he’d been cleared of. He still coughed at night and I tried to ignore the same sort of coughing coming from Shaun, even though the doctors said he was fine. Nate couldn’t work, though, and even if he could-- there was nowhere to work.  My job at the law firm was secretarial and barely necessary-- my degree got me there by the skin of my teeth, but everything from bread to house payments was expensive. Even with his pay and oh lord was everything up in price from either inflation or scarcity. The rations and... pre-war was a mess. But the testing, the letter was detailed: a company commissioned by the military was going to need civilian test subjects for a series of tests and volunteers would be paid well. I was chosen because of my medical history and my name being in the military files. I should have smelled something off there, but we were desperate; even cutting out all the chems we’d been using to keep ourselves together wasn’t making ends meet enough for Shaun and we knew it. So i went.

They didn’t do too much, I thought, past making me very durable.  In the way that Wolverine is very durable or Deadpool is particularly persistent about healing. I was never willing to test if i was on that sort of level, but that was the idea of it. Sunlight made it better-- nothing they did to me lasted to the end of the day, and bones never broke. And i came home with enough money to feed everyone. I only told Nate i had found a second job, and he took to being more of a Mr. Mom than usual-- though i think he was saddened i refused to say what it was.  I think he may have died under the impression i was being unfaithful. I had that thought a lot.

By the time we went into the vault, I was probably horrifying internally. We had started on what would fit in the “Ghoulish” and “Rad Resistant” perk stack-- radiation absorption and use. I felt sick a good deal of the time at first, and then processed it. The day the bombs dropped i wondered if it was because the enemy had found out we’d gotten far enough in our research that vulnerability could be treated out.  “The Enemy”. It was silly, then, to imagine there were sides to the Great War. There were just bombs and humanity. Death and the poor creatures trying not to die. But i had been raised in a hailstorm of propaganda and demanded devotion to the American Way and i had been devoting my body and health to improving.. well, i assumed my research would go to our soldiers. People like my Nate.  Silly. We ran to the vault, and i swear I almost outpaced them. I almost left them behind-- if only because of fear and adrenaline covering my awareness. I hung back and made sure they were there and then i swear I almost steam rolled a man in full power armor. I didn’t care, we needed in. We got in, but i was determined and i was scared and we needed to move.  The clouds were brighter than they taught us they’d be in school. The wind was hotter too. I could smell burning atmosphere.  My eyes burned with the image of a mushroom cloud all the way inside the vault. The cloud stayed as we changed and got into the chambers. It outlined Nate and Shaun as the doors froze over. It faded only because of the decades passed in near darkness, frozen, before I saw Kellog kill my husband and take my child. I punched the door and left a dent.  The last light of it was gone as i eventually slumped to the floor.

Things were very awkward in the commonwealth for me.  I was mostly angry.  I went wandering from Sanctuary, found Dogmeat and took the killed molerats to the Abernathy’s farm and traded them for a place to stay and felt their pain for their lost daughter. I figured the station was on the way to Concord, and i was still fantastically angry some bald motherfucker stole my child and killed my husband, so ok. So, I killed the raiders. With a knife.  I heard shots echoing from Concord as i was walking the road back, and Dogmeat barked, so I went that way and saw more raiders. I only noticed the laser after I had stabbed them all. Well, all i could find.  I only half heard Preston telling me to get the musket, i was already heading inside. I... was very angry for a while. Very angry.  By the time i reached them, i was covered in blood and tired, but wondering if they were ok. They were understandably worried. I calmed their fears with molerat steaks. Dogmeat helped more than the food.

I got them to Sanctuary eventually, setting up trade with the Abernathy’s and getting things settled. The only problem was i tended to get very vigorously upset when my past was brought up.  Mama Murphey was standing outside my house in Sanctuary and started doing her sight talk and i lit it on fire with the flare gun and yelled for her to stop. I patently refused to be known.  Preston understood, i think, to the point of me being uncomfortable. There was evidence of people living there and having been killed in a stand off, so he and the others put it down to Mama Murphey pressing me about being a survivor of this.  I did help them rebuild and there was a good community, i just.. needed my space. So i ended up slowly making a whole new house on the burned foundation of my old one. Just, adding and adding and adding. No one bothering me as i wandered.  I took to scrapping in the area and selling said things to Carla as she came by, but eventually there were too many people. So i took to looking around.

I ended up-- there was a gap in the dream-- being hired by someone from Bunker Hill to go through the ruins and find niche old world shit. Because collectors like old shit and i had appearantly, an eye for it. My collecting was also bankrolling the minute men coming back because i was making Preston do it-- i told him if i had to, i would tell someone to get fucked at least 5 times because i have the patience of a radstag and that isn’t a leader thing-- but i was paying for the guns and ammo.  So my job was crawling around boston. So i went looking for someone to go around with me and I ended up in goodneighbor and that one guy, What’shisfuck, tried to extort me and i just. Stared at him before trying to walk past because i had shit to do and he tried to fight me and i punched him in the dick. Like, literally just, right to the dick.  And it killed him. I just stood there till Hancock came up and i just.  “You know, usually i have to stab people.” “Same, actually. Damn.”

So, aside that.

I get me my merc, aka Maccreedy because that’s who you need obviously when you’re going to be climbing things. The guy who can’t climb for shit. But like, because i tended to have these rather explosive “DON’T” reactions or otherwise i did reckless shit because i literally would survive it he got so pissed at me so much. Like we got along, and he liked working for me because i’d give him guns and money and made sure he was ok, i just did stupid shit.

Like “do not rush tHE SUPER MUTANTS-- BOSS FF NO” “THAT IS A BEHEMOTH” Or it’d be like 3am and we’re ass deep in ghoul infested ruins and i’ll just suggest we sleep in one area that’s only accessible by a tiny ledge that we got to through teamwork and a prayer and like OK IT’S TECHNICALLY SAFE but he’s not gonna do it. bc he’s him, but he’s not shared shit with me bc i don’t share shit with him. So its “i’m not sleeping in ghoul hell” “idk its got carpet and a pillow” “no” “safe tho” “no”

Well till we’d been working together about like 6 months and he started getting REALLY fidgety after getting letters at Daisy’s in Goodneighbor and like, we’d already dealt with the Gunners. Gunners was a cut an dry business discussion of ‘these guys are dicks lets kill them’.  Then we’re sitting in the Third Rail’s back room, thinking on the next buildings to go over and he’s like “So, btw” “what” “I have a.. i didn’t tell you but i have a kid” “you have a WHAT? WHERE” “In the Capitol Wasteland.” That whole convo but a lot more intense because i got about 4 inches from this man like ‘explain’ and then hugged the life out of him. Immediately. And got my shit together and told him to do the same so we could get going and he was surprised i was so hype and i went “yes? Child, in danger. let’s go”

It got fuzzy after doing his mission but like...... the only companion aside Codsworth to know my story in this dream was Mac because after we got Duncan the cure, Mac made the comment about bringing him North to one of the settlements up here since I was running them, i just didn’t talk to people personally. And i did so very well, i just wasn’t people focused. And I got really emotional at him and started crying and he asked what was wrong and i said i couldn’t be trusted to keep a kid safe and he asked what i meant and i like told him everything and like his whole response was “Damn”.

But like to everyone else in the Commonwealth i was this rather badass community planner/scavver that got into things and stabbed stuff because they were REALLY HARD TO KILL, but to Mac i was friendly neighborhood mom that was just really afraid someone would give me responsibility over someone i might let get hurt.

it was an interesting dream

[starlitsea]

So I did a liveblog for Star Trek: Enterprise 4x17 Bound since that’s a thing I’ve been doing and, to NO ONE’S surprise, did a ridiculously long Trip x T’Pol analysis of the final scene. So, yes, I still love them a ridiculous amount. Cutting to spare you all. But if any of you like TnT, feel free to read! (Ilovethem.)

Ahahaha, dragons. Now, is T'Pol making a joke or not?

Don’t go aboard his ship, Archer! Oh good, you’ve learned your lesson.

Shit, spoke too soon.

At least he’s going with some MACOs and Malcolm.

Kelby is so maaaaad.

Trip is like: Why so mad, bro?

Kelby is PISSED.

T'Pol’s thinking I told you so but doesn’t say anything. Just offers to help out with the engine and Trip doesn’t hesitate because he knows she’s good at what she does. Total confidence here.

But she has to ask him about the “daydreams.” “They would involve me.” Just go for broke there, girl.

That pleased as pie smirk on his face. LOL. “You’re wondering if I’ve been having any daydreams about you?”

The face that could curdle milk at having to admit it. LOL. “Essentially.”

“Well, let me think.” Pretends to think. T'Pol’s hanging on his reply. “Noooo, nothing comes to mind.”

She’s just annoyed now. She’s sure she’s not just fantasizing about Trip because she’s missing him, but there’s ALWAYS THE CHANCE THAT SHE IS. “Forget I mentioned it.”

“Have you been having daydreams about me?” Like a dog with a bone, he cannot let this go. LOL. He is so pleased.

T'Pol: “It’s not important.” A non answer if I and Trip ever heard one.

“You gonna tell me what this is about?” We all know that he is LYING so he does also want to know what’s up with her line of questioning. But the fact that he’s not really concerned about the daydreams probably means that he does, in fact, daydream about her ALL THE TIME. OMG TRIP.

“No.”

Welp, that killed his good mood right quick.

Dude, this Orion has a needle stuck through his face.

Welp, here come the dancing girls.

Jonathan and Malcolm, behave yourselves!

Archer, wipe that smirk off your face.

Please, let’s punch the Orion man in the face.

T'Pol wants to know what the catch is. Also, she’s wants to know why he is talking to her if he doesn’t want her advice and has also agreed to this whole mining enterprise (does he even have authority for this?).

Archer: Well, I might have done a thing.

T'Pol (just resigned, so resigned): What have you done, Captain?

Malcolm is talking all the ladies around the ship. Good self-control bisexual Malcolm.

T'Pol: The Orion women’s presence is becoming disruptive.

Archer: Yeaahhhhh, boy. Um.

T'Pol: Please let’s deal with this issue. Also they think they’re your slaves and slavery is a no-no.

Malcolm and Travis: Let’s put ourselves in as much pain as possible to stop being hormonal idjits.

Travis: We picked up some Deltans with engine trouble once when I was 15 and I had a sexual awakening that I repressed by weight training.

Orion woman busy seducing Kelby.

Hoshi: I have a headache.

Hoshi and Phlox’s friendship is so underrated.

Yikes, when the doctor needs a doctor.

Trip: That’s probably the issue … WTF are you doing flirting in engineering?! Please do your job and don’t give away secrets to aliens?

Kelby: I hate you, Dad! I do what I want.

Trip: Get out of engineering. You’re grounded!

Archer: Slavery is wrong and bad. You’re not my property.

Archer, you are so weak.

T'Pol with the cockblocking LOL. Orrrrr not.

T'Pol: Why did it take you so long to get to the Bridge? Are you OK?

Archer: Use phase cannons and destroy this other ship.

T'Pol: Let’s not. They will go away.

Archer: Malcolm, blow them up!

Malcolm: Not gonna blow up this random ship.

Archer: I’m gonna blow them up anyway!

Never mind, they left.

Kelby, OMG, just bitching about Trip. So much resentment. So whipped.

Trip is like: WTF, the engine made a weird noise. KELBY, WTF ARE YOU DOING?

Fist fight!

Kelby, you know why everyone thinks Trip is better than you? This. This right here.

Kelby is ranting. Archer is about to choke a bitch.

Trip is so confused by why everyone is acting bonkers.

Phlox is just stimulating himself to stay awake.

Trip and T'Pol are totally unaffected. Trip is so confused.

The Orion women are just chilling in the decon chamber. Archer is so messed up.

Orion women: Your intimidation game is weak.

Archer: I KNOW!

Orion women: These are not the droids you’re looking for.

T'Pol: You’re super weak-minded, aren’t you?

Archer: Go help Trip.

T'Pol: UGH, OKAY. (Yes, seeing the man you love while being at odds sucks, T'Pol. Just make up with him.)

Yay, Trip and T'Pol working together.

Random crew members brawling. Trip: STOP IT! That’s THREE times in the last hour. Glad I’m not totally off my rocker like everyone else. BTW, T'Pol, why am I immune?

T'pol spills the beans about the shared psychic bond.

Trip is all like, “We didn’t MATE.” (What we had was a night of passionate lovemaking, not rutting like animals.)

T'Pol: Uh huh. (Yeah, Vulcans mate for life. Didn’t think it would happen with a human. Surprised me too. Deal with it.)

Trip: So those daydreams. That I was totally lying about having. (So daydreamS. Plural.)

T'Pol’s A-HA, you were lying to me, moment.

But Trip is still confuzzled. If we’re bonded, then I’m immune, and you’re making me immune?

T'Pol: Uh-huh.

Trip: I don’t know whether to be relieved or … really worried. (Yeah, now you and T'Pol are joined at the hip, so to speak.)

That’s right, say the Orions, we’re totally attacking you.

More power to the thrusters! TnT on the case.

Yup, you are being towed.

That’s right, the men are the slaves.

The way TnT see exactly the same thing at the same time and know what to do. That doesn’t require a psychic bond. That’s just all them.

They’re so good at what they do.

The Orion women are out and about. They should have set a lock that only Trip or T'Pol had the code to release. Everyone is messed up.

Hoshi: You’re stupid. Don’t do it!

Archer: Malcolm, arrest T'Pol!

Malcolm: Okay.

Trip just shoots everybody. LOL. I forgot about this part and can’t stop laughing.

Ahaha, they’re trying to seduce Trip and failing so hard. THIS I remember. LOL.

“Save it. Archer is in charge of the ship.” Trip looks at T'Pol and tries to suppress the thought, ‘And T'Pol is in charge of me.’ In Trip’s mind, there’s no woman that can go up against T'Pol and win, lbr.

Archer: Well done, you two. You saved the ship, YET AGAIN.

Look, T'Pol is making a joke. I still think the dragon thing in the beginning was a joke that fell flat. But everyone picked up on the joke this time.

Trip is smiling so hard. He is so happy at her joke. She makes another one and he is basically over the moon. This cutie.

Archer’s all: You must be picking up Trip’s bad habits.

T'Pol looks so affronted because it’s TRUE. Trip can’t stop laughing. This is the best thing he’s ever heard.

Trip: “I guess we proved it again.” (It’s so good that he’s initiating the conversation!)

T'Pol: “Proved what?” (Trying not to seem too overly invested in what he has to say.)

Trip: “That you and I make a hell of a team.” (C'mon, you know that’s what I was talking about. We’re perfect together!)

T'Pol: “We do seem to work well together.” (Trying to agree smoothly.)

Trip: “Even more, now that we’re in each other’s heads.” (So yeah, about that psychic bond thing … You were saying we’re soulmates?)

T'Pol’s little inhalation as that hits her and she doesn’t know how to deal. Yeah, he’s her soulmate and he’s LEAVING. Why did he finally decide to be so nice?! OMG, feelings, NO, BAD, MUST REPRESS. She’s trying desperately to address it. “You’re returning to Columbia?”

Trip going all, Yup, I’m in high demand. Everyone wants me desperately. LOLOL.

T'Pol responding with, But stuff’s still broken HERE! Where I am! You know, in my general proximity and stuff! Look at her trying to tell him not to leave without saying it.

Trip’s not buying it. Kelby can handle it. (Look at the skeptical look T'Pol makes RIGHT as he says that.) He’s decent when he’s not trying to blow up the ship so your protests are falling on deaf ears, Commander.

Yeah, Kelby is OK but we all know he’s not as good as you-

Trip is just done now. So done. So so so so done. No more games. “Why don’t you just say it?”

T'Pol’s face is amazing. She knows what he’s driving at but she doesn’t want to admit it to him. She also doesn’t want to admit it to herself. “Say what?”

“That you want me to come back.” The way he says it … he needs to hear her say it. It’s not a plea. It’s not a demand. It’s not a request. It’s just a fact. He just needs to hear it from her.

T'Pol’s so uncomfortable and she’s doubling down. “I believe I did.”

Trip’s face as he looks away and knows he’s not gonna get what he needs. He can’t even listen to her bullshit right now. The disappointment is palpable. Nothing’s changed.

T'Pol knows this isn’t going to work but her defenses are up. It’s her pride that’s driving her now. How can she back down and admit the truth? “I believe your presence here would be extremely beneficial to our operations.”

Connor Trinneer’s acting in this scene is so good. Like, damn. Watch his face go from that, I can’t believe the bullshit I am hearing right now expression, to the cold, hard, 1000% done: No.

She makes this hurt face in response.

But Trip’s voice softens just a little bit and he gives her one more chance, because, dammit, he loves this woman more than life itself and he wants to make this thing work. She’s stubborn, and prideful, and dense, and stubborn, and reactive, and jealous, and did he mention stubborn as a mule? All WAY more emotions than he ever would have thought to ascribe to a Vulcan, but there we go. That’s T'Pol. And she’s developing a sense of humor. And she’s damn fine at helping him in engineering and smart as a whip and she always has his back and is his best friend and the one he can talk to about grief and loss in a way that he just can’t with Jonathan. And she just fascinates and surprises him. Everything about her is a constant puzzle that he wants to spend the rest of his life solving. They could be so good together if ever their timing was right and one of them wasn’t dead or married or in denial or what have you. But he just needs her to give him this. He needs her to let her guard down and tell him, so he asks, his voice gentling just that little imperceptible bit, but he knows her ears can hear it: “That you want me back.”

She slumps. Her whole body slumps, and she lets out a simmering breath. She’s seething a little bit because he’s putting her on the spot and she feels like he just wants to get one up on her. She knows that this is a point that they can’t turn back from. If she actually admits that she misses him, that she needs him, they will actually have to do something with this thing between them. She can’t hide behind excuses anymore. And so she says, steely and a little huffily, her eyes quivering, her lips pressed together repressively: “I don’t know what you mean.”

The way he looks away and the gravelly soft way the words come out.  “Well, my mistake.” This is a DEVASTATED man trying to hold his shit together. This is worse than when she took him home to meet mother and then married another man in front of him.

Then the soft and oh so gentle way he finishes with: “See you around.” This is his goodbye to her. He supposes this is all those four years amounted to in the end. A mistake. Have a good life, T'Pol. I hope you’re happy.

And this, this is the face of a woman who knows that she’s screwed up. Like, not a little bit. A MONUMENTAL screw up. The little furrow between her brows. She’s struggling with herself right now, but she finally wins over herself. Can she really let him go like this? Can she really let him go at all? What do you think?

“Wait, Trip!”

And the speed with which his head whips around like he has been hoping against hope to hear those words. The carefully neutral expression on his face that still can’t hide a hint of hopefulness, because he knows he’s got her now. She wouldn’t call out his name otherwise.

She takes a breath to prepare herself. Then: “I want you to come back.”

He takes it in, nodding a little, feeling a tad bit cocky, but there’s not enough in the way she says it to be what he needs. He could read so much into it, but he doesn’t want to do that to himself. He doesn’t want to keep hoping when there’s no hope. To keep deluding himself by thinking she will ever want him the way that he wants her. But even so, he can’t stop himself from hanging onto those words as a lifeline. He’s so in love with her that he’s drowning in his feelings and he is grabbing on hard. But he can’t let her get the upper hand now or everything will just revert back to the way it was. So he doesn’t quite meet her eyes and acts as aloof and cocksure as he can. “And I’ll think about it.” Then he turns to go.

(Also, BTW) this light fixture looks like a heart? AHAHAHA.)

And T'Pol, T'Pol, T'Pol. I’m just shaking my head here. She CAN’T FUCKING HANDLE IT. She can’t. She just forced herself to admit that she wants Trip to come back and he’s JUST GOING TO THINK ABOUT IT? There is a definite element of panic going on here. She can’t lose him. She CAN’T.  And she’s also a little appalled. He STILL might walk away from her?! And then she just throws logic out the damned airlock. (Well, not quite. I’m pretty sure her brain weighed the pros and cons of losing Trip and went OH HELL NO, DO WHAT YOU GOTTA DO, GIRL.)

“TRIP!” She goes after him and he turns with a long suffering look and sigh, STILL UNABLE TO MEET HER EYES. OMG, Trip, you know that if you really look at her you will cave IMMEDIATELY, but TOO BAD, SON, T'Pol is DONE playing around. He clearly thinks that she is going to do some more talking at him, but, uh, no, that puzzle that is always surprising you? Here she goes.

She full on GRABS HIS FACE so he can’t get away and kisses him, caressing his neck (she does it to the non-injured side of his face too, very logical). And he LEANS IN and kisses her back. Fuck aloofness, that has never been his style. He’s not a Vulcan.

And here it is, his confirmation. She does want him. She needs him. Dare he dream, that she loves him too? But yes, T'Pol has given him the upper hand for once and he is going to milk this for everything it’s worth. BTW, his lips are pressed together and he’s licking them. The taste of her kiss. He is so smugly enjoying this, ahahaha. And then the thing he does with his thumb, tracing his bottom lip. Tracing the feel on her mouth on his, LOL, boy, T'Pol finds that so distractingly sexy and you know it.

And then he drops the bombshell with the air of a man making a confession. And look at how he looks at her with so much love as he says it. “Three days ago I told Captain Hernandez that I wanted to transfer back to Enterprise.” So really, HE WAS READY TO GIVE UP, BUT SOME PART OF HIM COULDN’T THROW AWAY THEIR RELATIONSHIP. HE WAS READY TO STAY BY HER SIDE AND BE HER COWORKER EVEN IF SHE DIDN’T LOVE HIM BECAUSE HE JUST COULDN’T STAY AWAY. THAT’S HOW FUCKING MUCH HE LOVES HER. Like, don’t get me wrong, he cares about the ship, and Jonathan, and Malcolm, Hoshi, Travis, Phlox, and even dumbass Kelby too, but he LEFT BECAUSE OF HER. She is LITERALLY the reason that he left because he could not keep his shit together around her. But he realized that being apart from her was EVEN WORSE than being platonic friends and fearing for her safety all the time. Like how much worse is it to be daydreaming and worrying about her when he’s NOT THERE TO MAKE SURE SHE’S OKAY?! And probably some part of him was thinking that they DID end up together in an alternate timeline, so she doesn’t HATE him. He knows that she cares about him on some level. He just doesn’t know how much or if she does reciprocate his feelings and he can’t make her love him. She either does or she doesn’t. But him? He’s gone.

But also, this means he totally was flat out lying to Kelby about his position, UNLESS he was going to come back any way he could, even if that meant not as the Chief Engineer. Damn, Trip, you do love her.

T'Pol’s FACE. Like WTF, TUCKER, YOU LITTLE SHIT. The deadpan way she says, “Three days ago” kills me EVERY TIME.

And Trip is just playing with her now. But he is looking her RIGHT IN THE EYES. “I realized this is where I was meant to be. And that this, um,” gestures back and forth between them, “thing between us? Inn’t that big of a deal.” He is playing this off so casually. The EXACT WAY THAT T'POL WANTED TO. But she failed. Like, they BOTH saw how HARD she failed to keep her cool. It is known.

And she has to give it to him, because now her pride is reasserting itself. Part of her is also sort of impressed by him. Equal parts impressed and infuriated probably. But tempered by overriding relief that he’s STAYING. All tamped down with Vulcan repression, though since this is T'Pol, it does leak through. “Agreed.”

His face as he looks her in the eyes is no longer that cold, bitter, reserved face he’s had on since coming back. It’s the old Trip face. The face of the man who loves her, the man she loves. A man secure in his position in her life and who knows that they have just overcome a VERY BIG HURDLE. This was the turning point and they are past it now. Now, they are in uncharted territory, but he is very much looking forward to the journey.

“Guess we got a lot of work to do.” He says it so cheerfully. He’s not talking about the ship repairs. He’s not talking about their duties. He is talking about “this thing between us.” This is a work in progress. This is something that is going to take a lot of time and work and effort. But they are a “hell of a team” and they are going to prove it again and again and again. They’re “in each other’s heads” and they’re a part of each other’s lives in a way that no one else can touch.

And T'Pol takes a moment to take it in. Really take it in. And understand his words and the meaning behind them. And Jolene is so good here. She goes from contemplative to a ‘that doesn’t sound bad at all’ face that I LOVE. And she’s not mad anymore. She’s okay with it. She’s looking forward to it.

And I’m sorry not sorry that this went from a quick liveblog to some goddamned wordy analysis of how much I love these idiots, BUT I CAN’T HELP MYSELF.

This is my OTP that got screwed over by the creators in such a way that I thought nothing else could ever be as bad again (then IchiRuki happened). But it has a happier ending in that EVERYONE WENT: The FINALE IS BULLSHIT. So the novel sequels are actually just a GIANT FIX IT 'FIC and I love that EVEN the publisher just noped the fuck out on the ending.

[babygirlgiles]

personal life rant below the cut, I guess. tw: abuse, trauma

Wow, I just??? Have so many??? Things??? Going on???

Like I’m actually sitting in bed with Chopin nocturnes on the bluetooth speaker on the brink of tears because my life has been the perfect shitstorm of everything all at once. And it would be fine?? If it wasn’t??? For my mother???

For context, in the next ten days I have four papers and three job applications due. Normally, that would be stressful and I’d be beyond burnt out by the end but yeah, it’d be manageable, I did basically the same thing earlier in the semester so I’m not too concerned. I cut my family out of my life completely about a month ago but let’s be real I probably hadn’t talked to anyone in my family for about a month before that. It’s been hard but tbh at the same time it’s bizarrely easy to bury my guilt prob because the joy and relief at not having to interact with people who abused me throughout my whole childhood, who actually had no business raising not just me but multiple children (not just bc shitty abusive people but??? poverty??? like abject poverty that).

(Let’s not all forget my therapist said last session that she was able to get in contact with the three different trauma therapy programs that rejected me and they all said it was because I was actually too traumatized. Like that shit is embedded too deep for any kind of short term program, no matter how intensive. Literally what kinda fuckin PTSD have you gotta give someone to where a program run by some place called The Victims of Crime Association is like nah)

ANYWAY. My mom used my school email (my whole ass school email that she probably had from years ago but whatever) to email me and be like “Why are you cutting me out of your life? Can you at least give me an explanation? Don’t you at least owe me that?” And like??? No. I don’t owe you anything. And I moved on.

But that night (Sunday) I had fucking rough nightmares and I mean I woke up screaming and then cried for a while and just decided to stay up until my alarm. Just reliving the actual physical pain of being beat up constantly, plus the constant fear and instability like... even writing this right now my breath got short and I feel anxious. And my dream brother said that things had only gotten worse since I’d left and that my father had broken his jaw-- which, like, I am guilt-ridden now.

Also I thought I was going to die at work today like I thought my heart was going to give out from the sheer horribleness of it all. Okay, so I’m in a one-on-one with my boss (I hate this person with an actual fiery passion, btw, and have for a while so that’s nothing new).They don’t know details but they know that I’m involved in some kind of situation that involves me being under school and police protection. For example, any information about me is on lock down. Like, a fellow student or even a professor can’t look up my school email and if they were to, for example, call the Registrar and ask, I’m immediately alerted.

Because of the actual literal protection I am under from the actual, literal government, my case manager here suggested “hey, maybe having a Facebook isn’t the best idea?” and it makes sense bc even though I never use it, even if I like accidentally check-in somewhere yeah that’s fuel to the fire. So I did what the school administration did and deleted my Facebook. So flash forward actual, literal WEEKS and I ask my boss a question. “Check the Facebook,” they say, with Facebook clearly open on their desktop (mind you this is the same boss who was two hours late to a meeting yesterday that was ultimately rescheduled to today that they were 45 minutes late to AGAIN). I say I no longer have Facebook. This does not come up again for actual WEEKS.

Flash forward weeks AGAIN. Today in my one-on-one this boss tells me I should really make a new Facebook so I can do work with it. I explain (for the 100000th time) that I cannot bc LITERAL POLICE PROTECTION. They tell me to use a fake name and use the work logo for the profile picture and like, yeah, sure, guess I could. I tell this boss that it would actually make me so uncomfortable though because, even though I know it’s safe, it would really fuck with my paranoia.

But this self proclaimed radical queer tells me that it’s an unfair distribution of labor if I don’t spend the 3 minutes making my own Facebook events and that I should then give it a try. Because fuck my peace of mind I guess. Anyway, later in the meeting they say that we should come together as a staff to help me the event I just created and organized (not with any of the space reservations or people coordinating mind you, but with the DECORATING) because it would be a fair way to distribute the labor. But it’s too much to ask for someone to make two Facebook events for me so I can keep the small thread of my sanity? I have never understood true anger until that moment. But whatever, I guess.

So yeah, I’ve felt on edge basically since. Here are a multitude of examples:

Had more nightmares last night and this morning when I was walking down the hall to the bathroom I was so scared I actually had to remind myself that I was safe over and over.

Bad OCD habits cropping back up (oh my fucking god if only I could tell you how dirty my hands have felt for absolutely 0 reason the past few days). 

Been snippy and irritable to people around me. I got drunk for the first time in... months the other night.

When a girl said something stupid in class today (and it was actually asinine, she said that white flight was “a return to community values” like okay, sweaty) I couldn’t stop myself from actively grimacing and I don’t normally have this much of an issue not being an ass.

When someone said “have a good day to me this morning”, I wanted to snap back for no good reason (when I looked a little further into this thought I turned up “I don’t deserve happiness” as the reason which is wild like classic 2011 Elliot bullshit.

But let’s be real. Okay, sure, maybe these are some small examples of little fuck ups triggered by weird circumstances but normally this shit doesn’t affect me at all. I go days without thinking about it lately, especially not having contact with these people. It’s just been the perfect shit storm of shitty papers plus shitty job plus shitty mother.

I think on the whole though I’m really happy. Like, I’ve been able to recover from a lot and create a full and meaningful life for myself. I take care of myself in a multitude of ways. I’m just gonna list some here so I can like finish this 20 page venting essay no one will read and then feel better.

I go to the gym and then exercise in healthy ways

And then after exercising in non-maladaptive ways, I eat meals to replenish

I go to sleep at a reasonable hour every night so I can go to the gym and then have a good day

I light all the candles in my room so it smells good. I also keep my room tidy because it makes me feel good

I listen to soothing music

I am studying a subject that I love and having thoughtful conversations with my professors and fellow students on the material and honestly it’s the best

I work with two researchers and not only do I #makemoney, I get to look into super interesting stuff

Also I’m loved by my friends and adults in my life so that’s pretty lit

Top surgery is basically right around the corner

So it my name/gender marker change

T is going great!!

I shower everyday which may seem like a small thing but that’s some #NewYearNewElliot shit

I take my meds (what a concept)

I don’t drink myself into a coma four nights a week anymore like wow??? Sobriety???

I’m going to finish with a degree I want, surrounded by people who love me, very soon and that’s 10/10

Anyway, this will pass and it’ll be fine so yeah.