#i am so overwhelmingly heartbroken by everything about him

[thenightisland]

So what if he's drowned a few people we all have bad days

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Different - A Pedrotober Drabble

Day Fifteen of Pedrotober: The Materialists Pedrotober Hosted by @norththelemon and @alyssamariag. View the full prompt list HERE and view my entire Pedrotober drabble catalog HERE.

Pairing: [I can't believe his name is] Randy x reader

Rating: I'm going to rate this one M. Heavy depictions of depression and heartbreak (romantic & friendship) are basically the focus here, so please read with caution if these themes may impact you.

Word Count: 1156

a/n: Since we haven't seen the film yet, I played heavily on the assumption that Randy is the heartbroken one when we reach the conclusion of The Materialists. Past Lives messed me up in the best way possible and I already am well aware that this film will do the same. As I meditated on my own experiences with heartbreak, this is what came to me. I pulled out my old journal, and some of the lines you see here are from very real, incredibly raw moments in my own life. Another you may just recognize, and I've included it because it made past me, and the present me that still dwells on the past, feel significantly less alone. I think I needed to write this for myself, but I hope it resonates with someone else, too. That's the only goal a writer ever has.

It feels different. This feels different.

Then again, everything feels different now.

The hotel bar you find yourself at is stereotypical. Lighting that gives the room a melancholy glow. Stools that are just far enough from the ground for you to swing your feet back and forth when you slide into one. A mirror behind amber bottles of liquid, perfect for reflecting the pitiful excuse of the person you've become. At least, according to them.

You motion to the bartender, but he's either purposefully ignoring you or is so invested in the woman a few seats down from where you now sit that you've actually become invisible. Though, in the grand scheme of things, that might be preferable.

"He won't hear you."

You hadn't particularly noticed the man one chair down from you, but you notice him now. His gaze is focused on the swirling liquid in the crystal tumbler he's holding, his voice rough and devoid of emotion. "He's been mooning over her for the better part of an hour."

A long sigh resonates through your body. "Just my luck, honestly."

"Mine too."

Overwhelmingly enthusiastic music, some kind of jazz, fills the silence between you, but when you get up to leave, resigning yourself to raiding the hotel room bar you remember seeing upstairs, he stops you with a hand on your arm. He's already out of his seat, moving down the counter to say something to the bartender. You watch the exchange, taking in the sour expression of the man behind the counter when he finally pulls himself away from the woman long enough to pour a glass of red wine.

It's in your hand a moment later.

"Thank you," you note quietly when he hands it to you before silently returning to his chair. "You didn't need to..."

The stranger shakes his head, "you look like you need it as much as I do."

He's right about that.

The stem of the wine glass is smooth under your fingers, and you gently turn it in circles against the wooden counter. "Well, thank you again..."

"Randy," he mutters, so softly you almost don't hear him.

"Randy?" your eyebrows raise. "You don't particularly look like a Randy," you continue after clearing your throat.

He shrugs. "It wasn't mine to pick."

You wait to see if he'll ask for your name in return, but he doesn't. When you offer it anyway, he only continues to stare at the glass in hs hands. The music changes - and doesn't change at the same time - to another overly ardent tune as you take a sip of wine, letting the liquid warm your throat.

"So, who broke your heart?" he asks, the question more direct than you would've expected based on the little he's offered in the way of conversation. "Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Partner?"

You shake your head to all of them, the emotion beginning to swell inside you, still too raw and close to the surface as the conversation speeds toward the one thing you came here to forget. You answer his question anyway. "Best friends, actually. Could've been worse."

"Probably hurts all the same, though."

It does.

The sound of the flirting couple nearby invades your conversation, the woman giggling loudly as she throws her head back, overreacting to something the bartender said.

"What about you?" you question, studying your wine.

"Fiance," he spits out the word like it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. "Left me for an old flame."

For the first time, you let yourself look at him. Really look at him. He looks like the kind of person who belongs in a hotel like this, extravagance radiating from his very being. Unlike you, the outsider who was only staying here because your friend - correction, your former friend - insisted that you stay at the best hotel in New York. At least you were the one with the room key and reservation. But there's also something about the way he's still considering the bourbon in his glass, about the tone of his voice, that makes you wonder if you're more alike than you are different.

"It kind of feels like the end of the world, you know?" His words thrust you back into the reality of the last 24 hours. Because you do know. And it does.

"I think for me it's more like a flood. Sudden and overwhelming."

He lets out a breath that you can tell he's been holding in for far too long. "Like you want to go home, even when you are home?"

"Or that feeling when everything you see only reminds you of them..."

"Because their memory is so imprisoned in your mind that you can never escape," he finishes for you. It causes something to break inside your chest.

"I can't even tell if I'm happy anymore." It's a whisper, but it's an honest statement. The utterance of the thought that's been lingering in the back of your mind. "Or if I am, it's usually only for a fleeting moment before the darkness steps in again."

Tears prickle at the edge of your view, one falling in a line across your cheek. He's quiet, and so are you, but you don't really hear anything anymore anyway, the world drowned out by the pain.

The air is punched out of your lungs as you press your eyes tightly shut. You know you're crying, and you're already beating yourself up for losing control in front of a stranger. But then he takes your hand in his. You look at him through the haze of your tears. "I shouldn't be this upset. I should be comforting you. I'm not the one who got broken up with."

"Friendships can cause heartbreak, too."

It's what you need to hear. The acknowledgment that what you're feeling is real. That you're allowed to be just as shattered by this as he is by whatever fractured him. That you aren't alone, not even in this moment when you're questioning everything and you wish more than anything that the chair you sit on would swallow you whole.

"How do you just forget the hurt and anger?"

He squeezes your hand. Once. Twice, and you grip it like it's the only thing still grounding you. "You don't. You can't."

Every emotion you've experienced comes boiling to the surface. Loss. Betrayal. Pain. Resentment. Deception. Regret. Shame. Weakness. Failure. The words swirl like a hurricane in your mind, like you're trying to navigate through the densest of fog.

"It feels like there isn't any moment past this one," you tell him, this stranger you sit with at the bar you shouldn't be at. The man you barely know who somehow knows you. You tell him because his heartbreak mirrors your own, and despite being different, despite your entire existence shifting in the moments leading up to your gravity coexisting with his, you're somehow the same.

He grips your hand tighter.

"There is."

[parkers-gal]

why pt. ii T.H.

wc: 1.7k

when you’re never truly over them

Tom had left for the press tour. After staying up all night crying and sobbing to the point of almost growing sick, he had left. He should've texted you, should've ran after you the minute you slammed the door on his face. 

To be honest, you weren't as heartbroken as you thought you would've been. The events leading up to this 'break-up' had pretty much prepared you for the worst. It was only a matter of time before the tension broke and somebody exploded; you had expected it, but you hadn't expected to break up with him. You also didn't expect him to actually leave for the press tour, but Tom was full of surprises. 

Now, in May, you were beginning to pack up your belongings into boxes. Tom hadn't made it easy though, because it was your house too. Everything you owned was a constant reminder of the person you used to be: happy and carefree, vulnerable and raw. Tom had destroyed that person, and all for a  few week's worth of partying with a jerk he knew from school. 

Each time you grew sad, you thought about everything that went wrong, and anger bubbled within you. You were stuck in this loop, lost on where to go next.

[Your Best friend] was helping you through the entire thing. And while she was completely supportive of your decision to move out, she also knew that you'd be better off with Tom. You had never been happier in your entire lifetime, and she knew your stubborn demeanor would only cause more destruction. 

She had called Tom the moment you stepped back into that house with a box. He picked up on the second ring, slightly confused as to why she would call him. 

"Hello?"

"Thomas," [your best friend] deadpanned. 

"What- uh.. what's up?"

"You need to keep fighting."

"Fighting?" Tom repeated, confusion lacing his voice.

"Fighting for you and Y/N," she had replied. "You can't give up, not now, after everything you've been through. You can't tell me it's not worth the effort."

Tom was silent for a minute. Not because he thought she was wrong, but because he wasn't sure how he could keep fighting when it seemed as though you had already given up. 

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Tom, you can't solve this problem from across the world. You need to be here, with her, for her." 

"She doesn't want me." 

"That's not true, and you know it. Cut the bullshit or you won't ever get her back." And with that, [your best friend] had hung up. 

Harrison was also supportive of the idea of getting you two back together; Tom was more of a mess than he would admit. He was knee deep in his own sorrow and pity. It seemed as though there was no motivation when you weren't there supporting him. 

While you weren't together, that didn't mean you stopped supporting him. Tom was an important part of your life, and you could never stop loving him. Despite what you said that night, you could never truly stop your affection for the brown-eyed-boy. 

"Y/N," [your best friend] spoke. It was week two of the move, and she was watching you pack. "C'mon, stop."

"What?" You replied, somewhat bitterly. 

"I know you don't want to leave this."

"This?" you said, hand gestures motioning to the room around you. "What is 'this'?" 

"This life, these people," she replied. "You still love hi-"

But she didn't get to finish her sentence, because the front door had just closed. Your brows furrowed in confusion, because neither Tom nor Harrison were due back for months; they were the only other people who had a key to the house. 

You were out of the bedroom in seconds, jogging down the stairs as [your best friend] followed you. When you reached the bottom, you froze, your jaw lightly open as you stared at who had just arrived. 

It was Tom, clad in grey sweats and a black tee shirt. Harrison was behind him, setting the luggage near the coat hanger as he looked to [your best friend], both of them simultaneously leaving the room. 

"Y/N," Tom had said after a few moments of silence.

You didn't reply, only looking up to his eyes before crossing your arms and looking at your feet shyly. Memories of a similar encounter had just flooded through your mind. Your first date, the first time you slept together, all of it similar in a fashion of shyness and awkwardness, but never tension. 

"I didn't think you'd actually move out." 

At this, you glanced up. "What else was I supposed to do? Stay here until you came back?"

He looked at you as if you were supposed to know the answer; know what he wanted, and you did.

"God, Tom. I don't need you, you know? I'm not completely, 100 percent dependent on you. I'm not a baby, and you can't honestly expect me to come running to you whenever I need help." 

"I never said you needed me," Tom defended.

"You didn't have to say it. We both knew it." 

"Bullshit, Y/N."

"Bullshit?" You interrupted.

"I've never once thought that." 

"Bullshit!" You repeated. 

"C'mon, you can't honestly say that I've thought of you that way," he said, his hand moving in a gesture. 

"Really?" You laughed sarcastically. 

"What?" Tom spoke harshly. "Is that hard to believe? I know you aren't dependent on anyone else, Y/N. Don't try to twist this." 

Your eyes were wide as you took in his words, more frustration bubbling up inside you. "Twist this?" You motioned between the two of you before your hands went up in defeat. "I didn't twist anything! I'm just trying to expose what you fucked up!" 

"What 'I fucked up'?" Tom repeated, his eyes rolling in disbelief. "There are two people in this relationship!"

"A relationship that failed because of one person!" You screamed finally. 

"And you're suggesting that was me?"

"Well it's not like I did anything!" You argued. "I broke this off because you were doing more harm then good!"

"It was just a phase!" Tom debated. 

"Being an asshole isn't a phase," You spat out. "It's developed, and you were with just the right people for it to show." 

"You're calling me a secretive asshole, now?" 

"Your words, Tom! Not mine," You yelled. "Did I fucking say that? Ever? I said you were an asshole!"

"Yeah, but you implied that I've always been an asshole!" 

"You shouldn't have been an asshole in the first place!" You replied, walking away from the front door and heading into the living room to fill the box that was sat near the couch. Tom followed in suit, wondering where Harrison and [your best friend] had gone, because he knew the yelling wasn't over, and it would echo throughout the house, regardless of where they were hiding. 

"Honestly, Tom," you started. "Did you only come back to start another argument?"

His face was deep in confusion, his eyes rolling once again. "I came back to fix us." 

" 'Us,' Tom? I've already told you: there is no us." 

"You know that's not true." 

At this, you were silent. A part of you longed to be back in his arms, but the sensible part of you knew he royally fucked up, and mending things between you two wouldn't be this easy. 

"Then what're you gonna do?" You asked after a moment. "Keep arguing? Keep screwing up?" You looked him in the eye with a harsh stare. "Or are you gonna grow up and take responsibility? 'M not your girl anymore." 

As your sentence ended, your voice grew quieter, the truth finally exposed. Both of you were varieties of broken and vulnerable, frustration and anger threatening to spill out in the form of endless salty tears. Both of you were slightly panting, breathing noises being the only contribution to noise in the entire house. 

Tom was a few feet away from you, his curls disheveled from when he was previously running his hands through them. When your last sentence finished, something in his eyes had snapped, and he was moving forward and closer to you, alarmingly fast.

And then, he was kissing you. Each of his hands were holding your face. He was slightly shaking, and that was when you realized he was crying. The kiss was deep and passionate and overwhelmingly emotional. He tasted just how you remembered: like cinnamon. His lips were warm and soft and enveloping, and the minute he made contact, you had melted into his touch. Tom was your greatest weakness, though you wish he didn't have such an affect on you. Tom had a soft spot for you and you only, and it never failed to swoon you and win you over. 

The kiss seemed to last for hours, and you weren't complaining. You had missed this. When it ended, Tom was still holding your face as your foreheads touched. Both of you were breathing even harder, but your arms  were around his neck now. He held you tight and lovingly, almost as if you would slip right through his fingers and out of his grasp like you had a few weeks ago. He was lightly sniffling, but the tears had stopped falling.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of Tom. You were almost nostalgic, and the idea of being his was what brought you out of your daze. 

Tom was staring at you now, looking down into your eyes and taking in your beauty. He didn't know how he could be so stupid and clumsy when it came to your love, and he promised himself he wouldn't ever make that mistake again. You were a powerful woman who knew what she deserved, and what Tom gave you wasn't it. You deserved love and affection and care and intimacy and warmth and commitment, things Tom was certain would come in the future.

After a considerably long moment of silence, Tom spoke. His voice was rough and raspy and deep, and he was whispering. His lips were barely touching yours; just ghosting over them, anticipation for what was to come next: words or action. For you, words came first. "I'm still in love with you." 

And then he kissed you again. 

[tinyboxxtink]

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 11*

Chapter 10

Chapter 12

Tag List

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@mrsrafaelbarba

Alright this one is kinda short but I needed a cliffhanger, and I need to get to fifteen now. Also, I had to write the ending of this in the car and it's difficult so I ended it where I did. Plus I love watching y'all squirm. SUFFER.

----------------------

Rafael hadn’t texted you back since you told him you didn’t care whether he believed you or not, maybe he had gotten the hint and decided to leave you alone. Why didn’t that make you feel any better? You knew what you had told Sonny was true; you couldn’t be in any kind of relationship with anyone but alcohol. 

You’d never admit it to Sonny since he was so proud of you lately, but the monster inside you may be present more than you let on. It wasn’t big things that set you off sometimes, sometimes it was just one bad grade on a test, or being lonely. 

You knew you needed to reach out to someone, anyone other than Sonny. Get some friends of your own, people you could talk to. But you were too ashamed of your problems and your life to ever approach anyone. Even when students in your class would ask you to go out with them after school, you’d always decline in fear of what you might do while you were out. You could keep yourself from having more than one drink on your own, but the social pressure of being around other people drinking made you just want to keep going. And you knew where that led. Where it always led. 

You had kept the monster at bay for so long, it was exhausting most days. And now that you had fed it and let it loose, you were too tired to even try and reign it back in. So here you were, practically unable to move from being so sick from drinking fucking mouthwash rather than ride out your cravings. 

You looked up at the sky and began to pray for God to just take you right there and then, just so you would have to stop feeling like this. Not just physically ill, but completely devastated and heartbroken that the one time you had ever opened yourself to someone, opened yourself to love, the monster inside you killed it. Just like it killed everything. Now you just wanted it to kill you. You were just about to grab some pure rubbing alcohol from under your bathroom sink to drink, you knew it was lethal if you drank about a capful. You had it up to your lips when you heard a banging on your front door.

“Y/N! Y/N open this door!” 

Were you still that fucked up or was that actually Rafael banging on your door? No, it couldn’t be. Could it? You decided it was worth at least checking, if you had hallucinated it you could always come back to the bathroom. You forced yourself to stand up and hobbled towards your front door, still afraid to open it. If it really was him, you didn’t want him to see you like this. Your t-shirt was covered in bright green vomit stains, your hair was messy from puking, your hadn’t checked but you figured your face was probably disgusting. 

“...I’m not home!” The words came out before your sense kicked in to tell you that was literally the most idiotic thing you could say. Clearly he’d know you were fucked up now.

“I’m not kidding! I’ll break down this door, I swear to God,” His voice was angrier than you’d ever heard him. Well, that wasn’t saying much considering you hadn’t known him that long but still. 

“Uh...okay, just a second!” You called nervously, doing your best to quickly change your shirt and fix your hair. 

You grabbed a semi clean t-shirt laying on your couch and threw your hair up in a messy ponytail, wiping the dried vomit and drool from your face. You glanced in the mirror, you looked messy but just messy enough you were pretty sure you could pull off “I’m emotionally destroyed because of you” not “I’m totally trashed and fucked in the head because of you,” You tried walking as straight as you could to the door and softly opened it a bit, not letting him inside.

“Hey…” You gave him a sheepish smile. Wait, weren’t you supposed to be mad at him? Don’t act nice now just because you’re trying to act sober. 

“I mean...that’s a pretty lively looking corpse there, counselor,” You smirked. 

“...What?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Weren’t you the one who said you’d never be caught dead in Jersey?” You smirked harder. Damn, even when you were on the verge of dying you were smooth.

“Let me in,” Rafael said flatly. 

“Uh, no,” You said mockingly. 

“Let me in,” He repeated more sternly. 

“Do you have a warrant?” You asked with an amused smile. 

“Dammit Y/N don’t make me shove this door open,” 

“Oh okay so now you’re threatening to break into my apartment? Why don’t you yell that a little louder, maybe my neighbor will call the cops,” You yelled at him while gesturing down the hall. 

“...Please let me in?” His voice lowered, his eyes softened. You were a sucker for those eyes, no matter how mad or worried about appearances you were.

“...Fine,” You sighed and released your hold on the door and walked away quickly to sit on the couch. You didn’t want him to realize you couldn’t stand without holding onto something. 

“Fuck, I knew it…” He muttered as he glanced around your apartment, then focused on you.

“Knew what?” You crossed your arms, playing it cool. 

“You’re drunk right now, aren’t you?” He looked at you pitifully, not livid like he was a minute ago. 

“What?” You kept your composure. “Uh, I’m sorry Rafael, do you see any empty bottles here? Any FULL bottles for that matter?” You gestured around your apartment while acting offended he would even think that.

“My dad was an alcoholic, Y/N,” He said softly which made you angrier, why was he doing this? 

“Um okay, so that has to do with me why--?”

“Tell me right now if I smelled your breath that it wouldn’t be overwhelmingly ‘clean’,” He talked over you.

“....What?” You blinked, trying desperately to act oblivious. 

Fuck, why did he know that was a thing? Well, obviously he just said it. If you weren’t so angry or out of your mind right now, you’d feel absolutely terrible for being like this around him now that you knew he’d been through this before.

“So it’s a crime to have dental hygiene now?” You smarmed.

“Dammit Y/N I know what you’re doing!” Now he was getting angry again, he couldn’t stand that you weren’t taking this seriously. He couldn’t stand watching another person he cared about completely shit faced in front of him, acting as if he was the one in the wrong. 

“And what am I doing, Rafael?”

“Sonny might be naïve, but I know what it looks like when an alcoholic is hiding their drinking!” He accused you.

“God dammit…” you muttered. 

So many things were buzzing in your head at that moment. One you now felt ashamed that he was seeing you like this, two you were upset that he knew all your tricks, and finally you were somewhat happy and hopeful that he cared enough to come for you. 

“Did you have an actual reason for coming over here, or did Sonny just send you to lecture me because he’s tired of doing it?”

“...Can you drink some coffee or something?” 

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Why?” 

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” 

“What? Oh suddenly I must be out of my mind trashed because I’m mad at you? Guess what Barba, this is 100% snarky sober me,” You lied. 

“Mad at me?” He laughed. “Why in God’s name are you mad at me?!” 

“After the way you treated me--”

“The way I treated you?!” He cut you off angrily. “I treated you with nothing but caring and respect, Y/N. Even after you sat there in my apartment throwing a temper tantrum like a petulant drunken toddler!” 

“You--” You were livid at him calling you a toddler.

“Just because Sonny told you what I usually act like towards-- lovers, doesn’t make it true with you. Did I ever, ever act like you were some ‘conquest’?” He asked you.

“...No,” You bit your lip nervously.

“Did I ever make you feel cheap, or unwanted?”

“No…” You looked at the floor.

“Didn’t I tell you that you were different, that you meant something to me?”  He gave you a sad look, as if he was crushed that you didn't believe in him.

“But how do I know that wasn’t just a line?!” You protested.

“Because I’m here!” He gestured around your apartment. 

“And why are you here?” You pressed him.

“I don’t know!” He put his hands over his head.

“...That’s not an answer,”  You crossed your arms.

“It’s the only answer I can give you, Y/N,” He finally sat down next to you on the couch. 

You curled up your knees to your chest instinctively, still trying to hide your inebriation and the smell of your breath; even though you knew it was futile at this point.

“So, you come all the way here to bang on my door and yell at me, but you have no idea why?” You continued to be defensive, trying to keep him off your scent.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N? Huh?” He threw up his hands. 

“Do you want me to say it’s because I’m in love with you? Because for the first time in my life I found someone that I want to be with all the time, because you make me the happiest I’ve been in a long time, maybe ever?” 

“Uh no,” You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t ask you to lie,” 

“...I’m not lying,”  He looked at you very seriously, trying to take your hand.

“Yes, you are,” You shook your head and pulled away from him. “In fact I know exactly why you’re here,”

“....What is happening right now?” Rafael asked himself softly. He had just sat there and poured out his heart to you, and you were dismissing him completely. This is exactly why he should have just let you be.

“What’s happening, is that you-- you feel bad that you couldn’t... I don’t know, ‘deal’ with your Daddy issues," You air quoted Daddy, making him shift uncomfortably.

"That is so--" He tried denying it.

"True?" You gave him a look. "Let me guess, you couldn't 'save' him as a kid, right?"

"...That wasn't on me," He muttered, looking at the floor.

"You don't believe that," you scoffed. "I know you don't."

"And how do you know that?" He looked at you skeptically.

"Because I feel like I failed my parents, and they were the shittiest people on earth!" You exclaimed.

"How did you fail them? You weren't even--"

"By being born, Raff," You clarified.

"Carino, don't--"

"Look, my point is you've got this 'white knight syndrome', but you know what I learned? You can't save everyone, so you shouldn't even try,"

"That's a great philosophy," he scoffed. "So you don't even try?'

"Oh fuck off," You rolled your eyes. "I can't even save myself, let alone anyone else,"

"That's not true," he protested. "You saved me,"

"Oh my god," you made a fake gagging noise. "You're just saying that so it'll appease some kind of guilt,"

"I have zero to feel guilty about," he shook his head. For some reason that made you even angrier. 

"Alright well good! So you can leave,"  You pointed towards the door.

"No I'm not leaving, not until you acknowledge what I said," He crossed his arms.

"What? About you being in love with me?" You scoffed. "I told you that's a load of shit."

"And why do you say that?" He asked.

"For one, because you don't fall in love with someone just because they're good in bed," you gave him a look.

"That's not why--"

"And for two, nobody can be in love with a monster," You finished over him.

"You're not a monster--" he tried pulling you towards him but you stood up.

"Yes I am!" You screamed.

Well that was a bad idea. All of a sudden it was as if the chemicals from the mouthwash were sizzling around your insides. You doubled over in pain, the room was going dark. 

"Y/N? Oh my god, baby hold on--" he grabbed you and pulled you into his lap while he dialed 911.

"It's okay, you're okay...just...just hold on, please…" he pleaded with you while stoking your hair and kissing the top of your head, gripping you as if you were going to disappear if he let up.

That was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

[yan-twst]

Hello! May I request hc for the dorm leaders finding out that their female crush is only attracted to girls(female mc as a lesbian I stan-)? If you don't feel comfortable writing this then feel free to delete! I hope this was intresting ;-;

hell yeah lesbians rise up!!!! i included some of my own headcanons of how gay and lesbian stuff is in twst because i think it’s nice to have that there!

riddle rosehearts

riddle is immediately mortified- not because it turns out his crush is a lesbian, but because he’s now horrified all his “courting” may have come off as a bother or inappropriate. he’ll go beet red and apologize for that. he- he didn’t know! he didn’t mean to impose himself- argh!

is he heartbroken? a little. but he’s more worried that he may have come off as pushy. the queen of hearts may have been overbearing, but she never went out of her way to specifically bother anyone, and riddle feels the same way. he really really wants to make it clear he didn’t mean to bother her oh god-

once he calms down a bit, he’ll just, kinda... compose himself and apologize once more. if he had known, he’d probably not have made any advances (even though his “flirting” was more along the lines of inviting to unbirthday parties and sharing trey’s baking. it was nothing too invasive- hell, riddle’s crush wasn’t even aware he was flirting with her)

riddle will also bashfully ask if... well, even if he has no chance with her, he hopes that they can still remain friends. romantic or platonic feelings, he still really gets along with her- hell, everyone’s grown used to having her at the unbirthday parties, and trey already bakes extra for her every time.

he’ll take the title of being her friend with pride. riddle will quickly swallow down his heartbreak: this is something that has to be this way, and the fact that she likes girls simply means he’ll just be the best guy friend she possibly can have

leona kingscholar

leona “woman respecter” kingscholar takes the information well. he just kinda goes ‘oh’, nods, and takes a nap.

welp, there’s nothing to be done, so why get all sad and mopey? if the little herbivore likes girls, more power to her. welp, women are pretty and powerful. he understands why they like women. makes sense

leona is a bit sad, sure, but it’s only natural. he doesn’t dwell on it for long, though. if something can’t be changed, there’s no sense in thinking it over and over: he’s a man and his crush likes women, so that’s the end of that

despite it being so clear cut for him, he will take some time to talk everything out with her. he wants to make it clear: he was pursuing her romantically before, and he won’t anymore. he didn’t know she was a lesbian before, and now he knows

still, leona’s got a soft spot for the little herbivore. even though he might not be pursuing her anymore, it doesn’t change the fact he still feels like he’s gotta watch over her and help her. 

he’s just gonna be his usual grumpy self, really. he’ll still invite her over to practice magift, he’ll still tease them and call them “herbivore”. is he still in love? leona won’t ever mention it, really. does it matter? she’s his friend now, even if he calls her “annoying herbivore” whenever she wakes him up, and that’s pretty much all he could ask for

azul ashengrotto

fun fact did you know octopi have been seen displaying homosexual behaviours out in nature

which is to say, this isn’t anything new to azul. same-sex relationships are more common in his home than what he’s seen in the surface, but it’s not like lesbians are a new concept to him

oh don’t get it wrong he does cry when his darling tells him she’s not into men. he cries and then he lets her hug him until he stops. he then proceeds to be so mortified over it all he wishes he could go hide in his octopus pot

after apologizing for... that ordeal, azul will return to his usual composed self. it’s almost hard to tell he was a sniffling mess just a few minutes before if it weren’t for his puffy eyes

he composes himself quickly because, well... when he pictured himself getting turned down, it was always painful- old insecurities flaring, being told he wasn’t enough- but this was... not painful? it’s not as if he wasn’t good enough or something. his crush was just a lesbian! it’s not his fault, so it’s hard for him to feel sad over it

azul might even feel a bit bad for her. she’s... stuck in this all boy’s school, huh? the only girls here are probably the fae that control the weather... and the talking portraits...?

even though there’s really no girls for her to talk to, azul will still take on a protective attitude over her, giving the “if any girl breaks your heart tell me and the twins and we will avenge you” talk. azul doesn’t know why any girl would hurt her heart, because in his eyes she’s precious, but hey, he’s gotta protect his friend, right?

kalim al-asim

“wait you like women? oh me too!”

kalim takes it... so well. like, almost shockingly well? it’s like he processed the information in record speed, sorted out his own feelings immediately, and made peace with it all in a matter of seconds

kalim has many sisters around his age. one in ten people are gay. what i am getting at is kalim has lesbian sisters and so this revelation that his crush is lesbian doesn’t shake his world too much

he’ll admit it stings a little- love is a powerful thing, after all! but he thinks people who pursue others who are clearly not interested are scummy, and he’d never do anything like that

in his mind, it’s an easy ordeal. he trusts and likes her. she sees him as a close friend, and that’s the most he can be. so really, he should just be happy he’s as close to her as can be! he’s already at the top rung of being close to her, so he’s hit the goal, right?

kalim, god bless his heart, is that friend who will present his lesbian friends to any other lesbian friend he has. he has good intentions, but it might get a little tiring? and a bit overwhelming too when he brings up that he has sisters right around his age who are also into girls and suddenly he’s making plans for a big mixer party and oh god jamil please help and put a stop to this before it gets out of control please help he’s already planning a menu-

vil schoenheit

ooooh so she’s a lesbian ooooooh ok that makes sense. that makes sense. 

vil is like “oh! of course my incredible efforts into my appearance and into our friendship and in wooing her weren’t working. she is just not into men”

he’s almost surprised at how getting turned down like this just... didn’t bruise his ego at all. his efforts weren’t useless, he wasn’t doing things wrong, it simply couldn’t work! honestly, vil would have been more hurt if he’d put all this effort and his crush had been straight and still turned him down

hmm, so she’s into girls... then being here, in an academy full of men (who are, in vil’s opinion, horribly unrefined and ungraceful) must be rough.

just because he’s no longer trying to pursue a relationship with her does not mean that he’ll stop inviting her over for skincare or for trying on clothes. absolutely not. the fact vil even was attracted to her in the first place is because he saw her as someone with potential and that has not changed

he will immediately position himself as a big brother / best friend. just because he’s her friend doesn’t mean he’s gonna let her slack, though! he’s still gonna be checking she follows the skincare routine he set up for her, and that she’s eating and sleeping well- as much as he says it’s because he “wants to make her potential shine” or whatever, it’s just... overwhelmingly clear he just cares about her as a friend

idia shroud

out of all the ways he imagined getting turned down this has to be the one that he had NOT pictured and at the same time, it’s kinda the best one? crush was a lesbian so it wouldn’t work out, 10/10 turn down, didn’t make him go into a self deprecating vortex

once again, it’s the age old relief of “yes, i got turned down by my crush, but it wasn’t my fault, because it turned out she was a lesbian”. idia had ran so many scenarios of being turned down, of his crush being disgusted at him, that it all being resolved into her not liking men at all is... almost relieving?

and you know what. he gets it. when he sees his figurines and posters of his favourite idols and anime girls it’s like well duh of course she likes girls because girls are cute? 

he’s gonna have her rate his waifu tierlist. what? it’s not- it’s not weird, is it?! he’s just trying to bond, and- urgh, he kinda wants to know what her opinion on his waifus is. because his waifus are cute girls and she likes girls so ?? it makes sense? right? (idia might cry if she says his waifus aren’t That Good)

this whole ordeal might also result in the almost hilarious scenario in which ortho just straight up goes “Hey niichan, what is a lesbian?”

learning that his closest friend likes girls opens pandora’s box, the box being idia making his friend review every anime girl and gacha or visual novel girl that HE likes

malleus draconia

did you know reptiles are also quite gay? there’s even a species of lizard that’s just, entirely female. dragons are reptiles.

malleus, bless his heart, is not good at reading people. his crush will need to be Direct. trying to use metaphors like “I swing the other way”, or “I play for the other team” do nothing but further confuse him- when his crush finally cracks down and just goes “what I’m trying to say is I’m a lesbian” he finally, finally, understands what this is all about

malleus just... nods in understanding

he feels a little sad- it does sting, a bit, to know things can’t work out, but he’s also... happy. if she told him, that means she trusts him, right? 

malleus is happy enough to just have A Friend in general, even if he’d never admit he’s usually lonely. most people tend to run from him or be so intimidated they shiver when they hear his name. and yet, against all odds, he’s found a friend who likes being by his side, someone who didn’t know all the baggage that comes with his name. he’d be a fool to tear down that friendship just because he’s learnt it’ll stay platonic

also, as mentioned before, it’s not like homosexuality is some sort of taboo or odd subject. it’s actually quite common amongst the fae, especially those in Malleus’ kingdom. although he does say he can’t introduce her to any cute fae girls. he.... is not friends with any. (he just doesn’t have a lot of friends in general, but he refuses to say that because he... doesn’t want to sound “mopey”, lile lilia says he is)

[shugokairifatewin]

So I'm watching the Walking Dead. And I have a lot of feelings after Season 7, Ep 1. If you don't want spoilers, don't continue reading.

Glenn's death was so painfully, violently, gut wrenching that I don't know if I can watch another episode of this show. It's not just a character who the entire fandom loves, literally just dying because it's the apocalypse and shit's hitting the fan and we expect that we won't all make it. We knew that going in, it's about the end of the world, everyone will probably eventually die. Even our favorites. Hell we've already lost some favorites.

This is beyond that. Glenn was so fucking kind. He was so determined to keep his humanity and protect the people he loved and cared about, even when humanity seemed to fail everywhere else. He fought so hard to stay human and to see the best in people when the world was bringing out the worst in them. And he was so sweet to Maggie; he protected her and the others so fiercely. His determination to find Maggie every time they got separated and in turn her complete and total faith that they would be reunited or that he was still alive when all hope seemed lost was literally the light in some of the darkest parts of this show.

So when I say that I was so heartbroken I couldn't even breathe the second Neagan's bat swung at him, I am not exaggerating. This wasn't just killing off a beloved character. This was taking someone who was repeatedly stabbed in the back but still managed to find the good in those people, someone who had had the hope that one day he could start a family even at the end of the world, and *violently* so violently beating him to death while his murderer mocks him in front of his entire family as they watch in muted, terrified horror.

And I feel so overwhelmingly hopeless even just thinking about how the others will go on without him, especially in the wake of everything else that happened in the episode.

My heart hurts more than I'd like to admit over a fictional character. So here I am, trying desperately to find some reason to keep watching this show when I can't get the image of Glenn's distorted, bashed in head and his attempt at a final goodbye to his wife out of my head.

He deserved better. And I hope Neagan suffers for it.

[legoshi-plz]

Cynic (Legoshi x Reader)

Legoshi x Canine! Reader

Warning: NSFW (+18), minor mention of Rape/ Sexual Assault

Summary: Maybe you and a certain Grey Wolf are more alike than you thought.

A/N: So I decided to change up these requests just a little so that I could combine them ! I hope you guys like it! These started off as Headcanons but i got a little carried away lol also Characters are all over 18 in this fic

/////////////

You weren’t exactly what people would call a ‘happy’ animal.

Okay that was an understatement, you could be downright depressing at times. It’s not like you actually meant to be such a downer, you just considered yourself a realist and being a Carnivore in today’s society was the farthest thing from a ‘happy’ existence.

People profiled Carnivores wherever they went, always quick to see your kind as natural aggressors and when they weren’t clutching their purses ready to call animal control on you all for just being alive, they were quick to go over the top to prove they saw “all animals equally”, which usually was just a ploy for ‘progressive points’.

Being a Domesticated Dog, you recognized your privilege was a double edged sword in one of the worst ways possible. You had Herbivores constantly in your face telling you “You’re one of the good ones” while other Carnivores mostly saw dogs as ‘sellouts’ who were willing to whore themselves out (socially and in... other ways) for even the slightest scrap of attention. It was infuriating just living in such a society and you constantly felt on the verge of snapping but if you did, you’d just prove to be everything they already thought you were.

So needless to say, you kept to yourself. You just couldn’t bring yourself to put on the false pretense of cheerfulness that domesticated animals were expected to uphold so you tried to keep to yourself. No one understood you nor did they try. They were too caught up in their own charades and you were beyond the point of explaining how screwed up this world was. They knew, they didn’t care.

You were convinced you would spend your entire high school career in the shadows, not making an impression (good or bad) on anyone or anything and for a while it seemed that way. Until your final year.

For the most part, keeping to yourself gave you a lot of time to observe others, rarely were you the one technically being ‘observed’. Which is why you couldn’t understand why a certain Grey Wolf couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

He was painfully obvious, his awkward attempts to hide his little obsession whenever his eyes met yours was almost comical.

You chalked it all up to him probably being another sick fuck with a fetish for submissive animals. It was more common than most people like to address and Domesticated female dogs were the leading demographic of rape/ sexual assault victims from wolves. It was mainly the close proximity of their biology that made it so hard for wolves to control themselves (if you could say they had any control to begin with.) They preyed on smaller dogs because in comparison to them it was the closest they could get to defiling a Herbivore without the internalized shame and disgust. Also female Carnivores were often not believed when it came to these crimes because they were perceived as stronger/ more aggressive and should have been able to defend themselves. Yet another flaw in this fucked up animal judicial system.

You decided to ignore the Wolf and hope he just moved on. There weren’t many dogs at Cherryton but there were a few others who would probably be more than happy to tame the beast that lie within him. Or between his legs.

But weeks turned into months and his interest in you failed to cease. You decided to confront him. You decided to do so after class once the rest of the class filed out. He usually drug his feet so it wouldn’t be hard to catch him. Best case scenario, he was embarrassed about getting caught and promised to stop. Worst case scenario, he can’t control himself and takes you right then and there. You were apathetic either way, there were worst things out there than fucking a Wolf right?

You approached his desk as he was scrambling to shove his things into his shoulder bag, the rest of the class had long filed out by now.

“H-Hi,” he said looking up at you, his ears tilted downwards.

“You got a problem with me or something?” You can tell by the way his ears tugged down even further that your voice came off a little harsh but that was just the way you were.

“W-Why would I have a problem with you, YLN-san?” He was avoiding your cold stare. He was a Grey Wolf for crying out loud, what was wrong with him? Wolves were a lot of things but skittish wasn’t one of them.

“Drop the formalities. You stare me down day in and day out but now you’re afraid to look me in the eye? What are you playing at?” Okay maybe you did sound a little harsh but you didn’t believe in skipping around the topic.

“I just... noticed we were kind of... the same, y’know....” he grimaced. You left out a dry laugh. He knew nothing about you but he thought the two of you were the same? This definitely had to be some sort of ploy. He wanted something from you and sooner or later you’d find out what that something was.

But that later never came. He began to explain himself, explain how he was pretty bleak too and that he couldn’t help but notice that someone else seemed just as paused in life as he was. At first you thought he was just churning out bullshit but the more you sat and listened to him, the more you hung around him, you began to see the undeniable similarities between you two.

He would express the struggles he faced with his own existence as a Wolf, how he felt like he could never truly be himself, or even know what being himself actually meant because he was so busy trying to make people unafraid of him. It was like you had met your other half. He understood what had been gnawing at you from inside for years now because he was going through the exact same thing. And so the two of you became fast friends, nearly inseparable from one another.

You tried to deny it but you were slowly becoming more and more infatuated with the Grey Wolf every day. Legoshi was so kind and reserved at times but you found those traits all the more endearing. He showed such vast wisdom and maturity despite his own social awkwardness and you found yourself overwhelmingly comfortable in his presence. Comfortable and safe, his naturally huge physique and protective instincts which should give you every right to fear him actually proving to do just the opposite.

Speaking of Physique, you had to admit that Legoshi was undeniably attractive. Tall, beautiful coat, all lean muscle, a thick healthy tail you had found yourself drooling over near-constantly. He was any Canine’s kryptonite and you couldn’t believe you hadn’t noticed it before now. Maybe it was just because you were so enamoured by his mind that your attraction to him physically was inevitable. Either way, you found yourself daydreaming about mounting him more times than you’d like to admit.

You thought that perhaps what you felt for Legoshi might be mutual until you found out he used to date a tiny Herbivore . And not just any Herbivore, a rabbit. The daintiest of them all. So he was just another sick psychopath with a fixation on innocence. You were heartbroken to say the least. What probably hurt the most was that you were no where near his type if Rabbits were his thing. You never stood a chance. But then again that wasn’t a surprise. You were nothing special prior to meeting Legoshi so why would yo expect anything to be different now.

That being said, it didn’t make you want Legoshi any less physically. You might not be his ideal mate but you knew there was still a part of him in there that had a desire for sexual release, a desire that Canine felt especially compelled to with other Canine, and you were going to capitalize off of that.

You found him in his usual spot in the art department after dark. He was always the last to leave.

“Y/N! Where’ve you been? H-have you been avoiding me?” He asked his tail tucked between his legs. You hadn’t seen him in about four days and giving the nearly inseparable friendship the two of you had over the past few months, it was out of character.

“I was,” you said bluntly. His ears lowered immediately.

“O-oh... did I do something wrong?”

“Yes,”

“... what was-”

“You fuck rabbits, Legoshi.” You saw his fur visibly stand on end and his eyes turn wide as saucers.

“Y/N I-”

“Look I’m just gonna cut to the chase,” you deadpanned, stepping forward, “I wanna have sex with you.”

“You WHAT?!”

“I’m attracted to you Legoshi. I might not be your type but I am small and I can make you feel good.” You didn’t wait for his response as you dropped to you knees in front of him.

“Y/N wait please,” he was tense all over but you were already unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. Surprisingly, he went commando.

You pulled him out of his pants to see his knot was already beginning to swell at your touch and he was painfully hard. You licked your hand and began to stroke his impressive length. Guess it was true what they say, the thicker the tail, the thicker the-

“Y/N please just give me a second!” Legoshi asked cupping your face between both his large hands. You craned your neck up to meet his gaze but continued to pump his aching cock.

“Just relax, Legoshi. It’s okay if you have to pretend I’m a rabbit, I don’t really care. I know I’m not much to look at anyway,” you said, wrapping your mouth around his angry tip that was currently streaming out pre-cum. You moaned at the flavor as Legoshi shuddered above you.

“Y/N please stop, this can’t happen like this, okay.” He said slightly more forcefully as he pulled you off of him and began to tuck himself into his pants, his cock straining against the fabric defiantly creating an enormous bulge.

“Really? That unattracted to me, huh? Well, I guess it is what it is,” you said in your usually monotone voice while standing up and brushing off your skirt. You turned, about to make your exit when Legoshi grabbed your arm.

“Wait, Y/N, look I didn’t- it’s not that- I just-” Legoshi was flustered and looked as if he was ready to pass out at any moment.

“Spit it out, Wolf boy,” you said , trying to hide the fact that your feelings were pretty hurt.

“I just- I like you Y/N, really I do but-”

“You just don’t like me in that way. I heard you loud any clear. It’s whatever, Legoshi. Don’t stress it,” you said attempting to shrug out of his grip.

“Hold on, can we talk about this?!”

“There’s nothing to talk about, I wanted to have sex and you don’t.”

“I- I do w- of course I want to have sex with you, Y/N. I like you, a lot. You’re actually all I’ve been able to think about for a long time. But you’re so.... so.... indifferent towards even the slightest romantic implications, I didn’t think I had a shot in Hell...” he sighed.

“If you like me then why’d you stop me?” You asked evenly. You weren’t about to get your hopes up, that just wasn’t your style.

“Because I like you. If there’s even a chance you feel how I do then I wanna do this right. Ask you out properly, ask you to be my girlfriend, ask if I can kiss you, y’know the right steps before...”

“I suck your dick?” You offered, a small smirk playing at your lips. His still very much present hard-on twitched visibly at its mention.

“God, Y/N,” Legoshi groaned attempting to cover himself. You fought back the urge to giggle at his shyness despite the fact he was in your mouth less than two minutes ago.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I want to do it. Don’t you want me to?” You bit your lip in what you hoped was a seductive way.

“So fucking bad,” Legoshi groaned again unable to avert his eyes. You took this as an opportunity to step forward once more.

“Then why don’t we let this one slide, huh? And then we can do things your way?” You whispered palming him through his pants. He unconsciously began to grind lightly against your hand.

“Y/N, I’m in.... Male mode.... if we start, I might not be able to stop,” Legoshi voice was straining from trying to keep his own pleasure at bay. You dropped back down to your knees, once again pulling him out.

“Then don’t. Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to ride you, Legoshi? Let’s allow this one free-pass then you can start all the courting processes you want,” you said before taking him into your mouth. Legoshi felt his eyes roll back into his head as he thrust softly into your warm, wet throat.

“W-Wait, one more thing” he moaned, once again taking away what was quickly becoming your new favorite treat.

You were about to protest when he kneeled down to your level, again cupping your face in both his hands in order to place the sweetest kiss imaginable on your lips. He rested his forehead against yours for a moment, before pulling away to see you with the dopiest grin on your face.

Yeah, you were definitely going to be the death of him.

[cinematicnomad]

How you feeling today? Heartbroken, shocked, hurt, emotional, sad... or is it just me? 😭😭💔

Ooo also I wanted to ask after today’s episode of 9-1-1, have your thoughts changed on Buddie possibly being canon? 👀✨

i mean i have been in a constant cycle of “if not buddie, WHY” and “i have been burned before, Do Not Tease Me Like This” since joining this fandom so last night was no exception. they DEFINITELY fed us good content and didn’t skimp on buck’s reaction at all. the fact that the episode literally ended on them staring, unblinking, at each other in basically dEAD SILENCE until eddie went unconscious has just. totally fucking killed me??? 

i don’t know what to make of all this. again, like, YES everything that’s happened makes me go “it would make SO MUCH SENSE” re:buddie but at the same time...i have witnessed shit like this before and i try to keep low expectations. 

last night’s episode was great! SO JAM-PACKED of content. i will say i wish there had been a bit more table setting for maddie’s potential-PPD storyline before last night’s episode (like i feel like they did a great job doing the table setting for the bathena conflict throughout the back half of the season). i know they had a shorter season, and i do really love how they brought it into this episode, but i wish there had just been like. a HINT of her struggling more in parenthood or some throw away comment made in first responders (the only 2 eps she’s really been in since jee-yun’s birth). 

the hen stuff was *chefs kiss* phenomenal, and i am still so stunned that we’ve only had toni for s4? how have we survived so long without her?? i love her and she BETTER stay around. the writers did a great job telling such an important and powerful storyline and really depicting how racism (and sexism and classism) is overwhelmingly prevalent (practically intrinsic to) the american health care system and really highlighting how important it is that people like hen and chimney are out there in the industry advocating for patients of color and for shitty doctors like the one in the ep to be called out on their dangerous fucking actions and for medical students to be given the education necessary so that they don’t continue to perpetuate a racist system and to have the training and tools needed so that they can treat all of their patients equally. 

the carla stuff was great—after all the drama that went down in the fandom a few weeks ago i wasn’t sure what to expect from this scene and i was really dreading it. but they really highlighted how out of place ana is with eddie and how she seems most at ease with chris (i did appreciate that she finally called him eddie). loved carla’s comment to eddie about following his own heart, and ryan is the king of micro expressions for the face journey he went through while looking at chris and ana over the double cakes. the writers still don’t know how to give ana a personality other than ~*nice*~ but at least that feels like The Point now—i’m still hoping for a breakup in the finale, but at least now it feels like the writing is on the wall for this relationship no matter what so i’m not worried about it being forced as endgame. 

[sagesilentfire]

I'm looking for a trans sensitivity reader (for Marcie) and possibly a poc sensitivity reader (for the monsters vs mewmans plot), so if you're available, please tell me, and we'll figure something out.

Forgive my inability to draw humans, please.

I know this is a big departure from my usual content, so I'd like to make sure you know that watching SVTFOE is not necessary to enjoy this AU, as everything needed to understand the plot is explained in-story. In fact, I'd love to have someone who's never even heard of a svftoe to read it so I can make sure it makes its own logical sense.

Anyways... 

(putting this under a read more for your scrolling purposes)

Hi. I'm Sage, and I would like to talk about a show I really liked. The past tense being the operative, as it used to be good, but...

I started watching SVTFOE after watching the great Steven Universe, which meant I had high expectations for it. And it met those expectations! From the beginning I was hooked. It was a good show. But as the seasons went on, it started to... rot.

Now, something to know about me is that I do not invest myself wisely. I love the things I love deeply and with passion. I get attached easily, and I love to theorize about the things I love. So I was heartbroken when SVTFOE ended the way it did, with none of my questions answered.

And when my theories were better than canon, well, that meant I had a new project: a complete rewrite of Star vs. the Forces of Evil. This AU will start similar to canon, but gradually diverge from it until it's something completely new. It will also have five separate "seasons".

So here's my AU: Star and Marcie and The Forces Of Evil (aka samatfoe). This AU will tear apart the scraps of lore that we got from SVTFOE and expand on it and make new lore, all narrated by my lovely OC, Sílthéy. And I promise I will get to as much as possible. If you're worried, check the titles of all of the chapters, which will hopefully reassure you that, yes, I will get to everything (or at least everything I've thought of ;)).

Dramatis Personae:

Star: Star will mostly stay the same in the first few seasons, but I'll try to have her actually grow and mature while staying a good person in the later seasons. She'll also be a bit more fire-aligned, because I wanted to be able to tell my Star and the canon Star apart easily. (She also doesn't get those wings until Mewberty.)

Marcie: is a trans girl. The entire second "episode" will be about her being trans. And I will, again, try to not have her act like a jerk in later seasons. She also won't be an adult trapped in a teenager's body, as that was waaay too weird for me. Instead she won't age in the Neverzone, period, and there will be an episode dedicated to her re-adjusting to Earth and discussing what the whole "spent a decade and a half in eight minutes" thing means for her. And, of course, she'll be more involved with the Mewni plot, as she will be interested in learning the lore behind Mewni from the beginning and push Star to find out more about Mewni.

Ludo: Ludo's story will not effectively end with the Battle for Mewni. He will get a redemption arc, with all the pitfalls and trip-ups that come with that. And all of his flaws and issues will be brought up, now just forgiving him for everything he did because he had bad parents. And Dennis will continue to be a cinnamon roll. Some things never change.

Buff Frog/Yvgeny: will not change. He is good lad.

Toffee: This is the big one. Where to start, and how to start it without spoiling everything I have planned? Well, let me tell you this: Toffee is getting a complete overhaul. For one thing, I now made them agender for various complicated reasons that will be revealed in-story, eventually. And for another thing, they will get an actual backstory and personality! Isn't that a novel idea! And they will not die abruptly and nonsensically in Battle for Mewni, so don't worry about that.

Jackie: Oh, Jackie. You poor dear. Jackie will not be delegated to the role of "one-time love interest who just skateboards out of the plot". First of all, Marcie will only have a squish (a platonic crush) on her, because I don't trust my aro/ace self with the weird things people in romantic love do to get together, but I do know what it's like to desperately want to be friends with someone. Secondly, while she will be out of the spotlight in later seasons, it'll be because she's on an exchange trip to France, not because we're abandoning her character and her world for no good reason.

Janna: never changes. Pretty sure she's the one constant of the multiverse.

Tom: will have his redemption arc earlier in the story so I can use him for things, but other than that will not change much.

Moon: First of all, she will not betray everything her daughter stands for by siding with Mina this time. There are plenty of other ways Mina could rise to power, so there's no need to ruin her character by making her do a stupid, illogical thing that even a five-year-old would see was stupid. I mean, she's still going to be kind of racist, but she's well-established to be level-headed and even a little clever, so she will not do something that would so obviously blow up in her face. Secondly, she will be a bad ruler, hence why Mewni is a total mess, but she will learn and become better and help Star's efforts to improve Mewni.

Glossaryck: is... changing. He won't "lose" his sanity for season three, but he will also not be in a totally heroic role. It's a complicated thing and a bit of a spoiler, so I'll leave it at that. Also, he's a dragon now Because Reasons (no, seriously, I have a reason for it. It's also a spoiler).

River: River will be goofy, like usual, but he won't be plot-destroyingly stupid. I'll try my best to not make you question why he's even king while still making him a foil to Moon. It's the tightrope I must walk.

Angie and Raphael: Will not completely disappear from the plot in later seasons, but will instead be like a second family to Star and will be a refuge when her overbearing Butterfly side gets too much.

Kelly: Will not be involved in a stupid romantic subplot with Marcie. Sorry. Other than that, Kelly will remain pretty much the same, aside from now being tiny, because that's just how she came out in my art. She's pretty cool.

Miss Heinous: Will not be Meteora this time around. I disliked how Heinous hurt so many people and was a horrible person, but as soon as her Tragic Backstory™ was revealed, all that pain and suffering she caused was ignored in favor of making her Super Duper Tragic™. So I'm separating the characters. Don't worry, though, she'll get the backstory and character arc she deserves.

Saint Olga: Saint Olga will be the main motivator for Miss Heinous's actions, as she is desperate to please the robot. Other than that, Saint Olga won't actually get much character. She's a bad guy, pure and simple.

Meteora: will not turn into a baby. She will deal with the consequences of her actions like a mature, responsible sixteen-year-old. But because she's sixteen, things won't be too harsh when she does snap. She'll still have her mother and father to help her and guide her.

Eclipsa: Regarding Eclipsa's design, I tried to make her fat, but... I don't know if it translates well in my art. I'm just not that good at art yet. But aside from that, making her cheekmarks dark gray (spades are a black card, not a red card! That bugged me so unreasonably much), and giving her as much of a connection to Toffee as the show implied, I'm not changing much about her. She was one of the good characters.

Globgor: Will have fought against mewmans in the past, but not have eaten them (what were the writers thinking?! Making your metaphorical poc eat people is... not good). And it will be more of a case of Star and Eclipsa knowing he is good and should be released from the crystal, but the general mewman populace not accepting it, until Cornonation, where he proves he's a good guy.

Shinjai: Is a new character I am thrilled to introduce to you all! She came from me thinking that for someone who supposedly wants to end mewman-monster racism, Star sure doesn't have any monster friends (Buff Frog doesn't count. He's an adult, and they don't really hang out so much). So here's Shinjai! She's a septarian, and is introduced instead of Princess Smooshy in Sleep Spells. She's a very minor minor monster noble, and her family has about as much political power as your average worm on a sidewalk after it rains, but all noble monsters must go to Saint Olga's Reform School for Wayward Royalty, so she runs away and gets help from Star and Marcie. She's mostly made to replace Pony Head: she's spunky and... uh, actually she's nothing like Pony Head. She's also unafraid of asking difficult questions and knows more about the plot than she lets on.

Rasticore: is very different from his canon counterpart: he only allies with Heinous and Saint Olga to keep an eye on them for ~someone~, and thoroughly dislikes them, despite agreeing to their mission. He also can regenerate as quickly as Toffee, he just chooses not to for ~reasons~. He also has a mysterious partner, but we all know it's – *gets clubbed over the head by Síthéy*

Mina: Making fun of mental illnesses isn't funny kids. Therefore, Mina is the only neurotypical member of the cast. She does boring neurotypical things like... I dunno, cleaning? And she's still a threat: bigotry and hatred are not exclusive to people with mental illnesses, after all.

Lilacia: Now, Lilacia Pegasus, the horse formerly known as Pony Head, will... exist. She won't be as overwhelmingly annoying, hopefully, as she is in canon. And to make sure she feels consequences for her actions, there will be a subplot in season two about her and Star growing apart as Star grows and leaves Lilacia's annoying party girl antics behind. Lilacia will have to realize that her immature actions are making Star leave her behind, and she'll have to grow as a person because of it.

Then there's a mysterious character who is very mysterious and does mysterious things and has a mysterious personality and is generally mysterious... mysterious. She'll be introduced in the second season and will be as mysterious as promised, I swear.

And finally, of course, it will be narrated by Sílthéy. She will tell this story, and her part in it, for all to hear. Or read? It's a bit of a strange medium, storytelling on paper. Or on a screen, whatever.

Now, of course, by now you must be wondering: What about the shipping? The shipping's the most important part, right? Well, here is my answer: There will be no ship wars. There will be no love dodecahedrons. There will be no cheating, no lies, no throwing other characters under the bus for stupid romantic drama. Why? BECAUSE STAR AND MARCIE ARE BOTH ARO/ACE. Suck on that, Starco! I am the last person to trust romantic drama with, so all of the romantic relationships in this bandwagon will be established, healthy relationships that have decades of chosen love and appreciation for one another behind them. And past!Tomstar and brief, schoolchild-crush-esque Star/Oskar but that doesn't count.

So, I believe that about wraps things up for this post. I'll start posting chapters soon, and will post two chapters every other week, and I'll release the descriptions of them two weeks before I post them. If you have any questions, please ask them! I want to work on my drawing skills, so I might even draw something for them!

Description for next episodes:

Star's Birthday: Star is a young, wild princess who is about to receive her family's most precious heirlooms.

Trouble in Diazland: Star is put under the care of the Diaz family, but can't quite seem to connect with their son, Marco.

And, finally, I have thank yous! These are mostly people I watched but haven't really interacted with yet, so if you get tagged know that you don't know me, I just followed you for svtfoe content. And for, you know, your personality.

Thanks to ankle-beez for being hilarious and reminding me why I made this AU when you relentlessly drag svtfoe. Thank you to @full-moon-phoenix, @dappercritter, and the lizard squad for my regular dose of Toffee. Thank you morningmark and @jess-the-vampire for keeping me invested in svtfoe as a whole. Thanks to svtfoe-critical and @twinklecupcake for good ideas. Thank you to TBlofeld on AO3 for your amazing AU, Monsters, Mewmans, Magic, that, while we took things and ran in completely opposite directions, still inspired me to complete mine. And thank you to Blue Order, whose deeply hilarious and deeply accurate video "How Star Vs the Forces of Evil Fell From Grace" inspired me to create this story in the first place. And, of course, thank you to whoever on the svtfoe wiki writes down the transcripts to every episode. You've helped me so much. I admit that I didn't follow all of your guys' advice, but you did help me get here, every one of you. So thank you.

[nonstoplover]

everglow ~ Luke Hemmings (song drabble)

my masterlist │my song drabbles

song used as inspiration: coldplay ~ everglow

words: 2.1K

approximate reading time: about 10 mins

warnings: mentions of death, cancer

a/n: i just love this song. ever since it came out i’ve been in love with it. but i was too much of an immature child to actually realise it was such a sad song *smh* until i a couple months back had an idea to make it an imagine and started analysing the lyrics. sorry it became so sad. hope you still enjoy it. love ya xx

"...Oh they say people come, say people go, this particular diamond was extra special And though you might be gone and the world may not know, still I see you celestial..."

"You have to move on sooner or later, Luke," Michael pats him in the back as he passes him in the kitchen on his way to the fridge. "That's what-"

"I know!" Luke exclaims back furiously. "I know, 'that's what she'd want'. Everybody tells me daily."

"Then why can't you see the truth in it?"

"Because it's nonsense. No one can really know what she'd want or not want, because she's gone!"

The tears gather in Luke's eyes and he turns his head away from his bandmate. He's slowly getting sick of hearing this sentence almost every day.

(y/n) would want you to move on.

But what if he just can't? It's not like flipping a switch inside him. He loves her, and nothing would or could change that. And why the rush? She passed away only three months ago, why can't he mourn properly - as he himself wishes to do so?

"...Like a lion you ran, a goddess you rolled Like an eagle you circled, in perfect purple..."

He doesn't even notice the tears rolling down his cheeks until Calum's worried face appears in front of him, kneeling on the tiles. "Hey, you alright?"

Luke takes a shaky breath in, trying to shake the sadness away again, but it seems stronger and as a sob escapes his lungs, he wordlessly shakes his head, falling on his knees in front of his friend. Calum puts his arms around him, hoping to give the poor boy some much needed comfort as he cries in his embrace.

"You can tell me - tell us - about it, you know that, right?" Luke hears Cal's quiet mumble, and he blinks rapidly to push the tears away.

Leaning back, he raises his hands to wipe the wet lines off his face with his shirtsleeves as he sniffles loudly, nodding his head.

Calum stands up, grabbing him by the arms and pulling him up before making his way to the living room, pushing Luke in front of him, not letting go until they're both sitting on the couch. Michael follows them suit and drops on Luke's other side while Ashton gets seated in the armchair opposing them.

"...So how come things move on, how come cars don't slow When it feels like the end of my world? When I should, but I can't let you go?..."

They wait patiently for their heartbroken friend to speak, and after a couple minutes it eventually happens, the words bursting out Luke with the barrier that kept them in for the past months finally out of the picture.

"I just can't understand how the world could go on like nothing had happened when she, the engine that made my world turn, is gone."

It sounds so simple, so logical, and the other three friends share a look, wondering what they could answer to such a confession that would ease Luke's pain. Soon it turns out they don't have to say a thing as he continues. And maybe it's better to just let him say everything he wants out loud, anyway.

"I can still feel her. Constantly. Her warmth, her light wherever I go and whatever I do," he places a palm on his chest. "It fills my entire chest."

"...But when I'm cold, cold, when I'm cold, cold, there's a light that you give me when I'm in shadow There's a feeling within me, an everglow..."

"We had so many plans," and for the first time in the past couple minutes, Luke's voice finally gives in and cracks. "So many places to visit, so many memories to make."

Visions flash inside his mind, visions of (y/n) and random pieces of their life together - from when he first asked her out, when they had just started dating four years ago, when they moved in together, when he went to the jeweller to choose the most perfect ring only a year back, before they found out she had pancreatic cancer.

He remembers the day when he once visited her in the hospital and decided to cheer her up by eventually proposing as if it was only yesterday. She looked so fragile, so pale, her beautiful (y/e/c) eyes cloudy. It was a sudden decision, and he moved to carry it out without a second thought, kneeling on the cold hospital floor and pulling the small, velvety ring box out of his jacket's pocket. Oh, how much he blessed himself in that moment for carrying it with himself every day to her, waiting for the perfect timing to show her the jewel.

(y/n) frowned, not having a single clue about what was going on before he opened the box and spoke the words as casually as if he was only asking about the weather. Will you marry me? A soft giggle left her body immediately, one that was so quiet that it just broke Luke's heart again. He was used to her hearty, boisterous laughs, not a giggle resembling the noise a butterfly makes when it flutters its wings. But at least she giggled. That's success.

Are you crazy? She asked with an adoring smile playing on her lips as she glanced down at him from the tower of pillows. No, I wanna marry you, he answered with a serious face. And from then on, planning their wedding - one that they both knew would never actually happen - was part of the routine they had every time Luke visited her. Which was every day - well, except a couple when he had unmissable band duties, but even then he made sure somebody went to her.

"...But the changing of winds and the way waters flow Life is short as the falling of snow and now I'm gonna miss you, I know..."

A bitter, dark chuckle leaves his lips, his eyes cold and emotionless as he stares at the floor in front of his feet. "I can't put the ring away. It still lies on my bedside table," he admits.

His bandmates share another look, only turning back to him when he stands abruptly, leaving the room. "I need a paper tissue," he announces just before he disappears in the doorway.

Rummaging through the bathroom shelf Luke tries his hardest not to look at (y/n)'s part - where she kept all her finery equipments, and where he still keeps all of them - as he pushes everything aside to find a new package of tissues. There has to be at least a couple unopened ones left, his mother bought him an enormous amount just a week or two ago. He couldn't finish them all.

He frowns, pausing for a moment to think back to how many times he actually needed a tissue in the past couple days, then with a shrug he stands back up, moving to the bedroom instead. At least in his bag, or in the bedside table's drawer, there has to be a goddamn tissue.

Just as he thought, there lays a couple fresh ones, and he sighs, pulling them out and sticking them in his sweatpants' pocket except one he unfolds to dry his eyes and blow his nose. When he's finished, Luke makes his way back towards the living room with a new thought forming in his head.

"...But when I'm cold, cold in water rolled, salt And I know that you're with me in the way you will show..."

As he gets closer to the room though, his bandmates' voices enter his ears and when his name pops up, he comes to a halt, freezing in spot on the corridor.

"I don't know, man, Luke's beyond recognition by now," he hears Ashton speak.

Am I?

And would you blame me if I was?

After half of my heart, half of me has been ripped out of me?

"What I think is that he should try to write songs," Calum continues. "That's what he's good at, and maybe it'd help him write his feelings out."

Write songs?

"That's a great idea, but I don't know how you could suggest that to him without immediately making him think that you just want a couple new hits," adds Michael.

That's right...

With a shake of his head Luke moves again and enters the room, pretending that he heard nothing from the ongoing conversation that comes to an abrupt stop when they notice his figure.

"I think I'll head out for a walk now," Luke announces, nodding towards the front door. "I'm sorry for cutting this short, 't was nice seeing you."

The other three immediately stand, their heads moving in understanding nods, but before any of them could say a word out loud, Luke's already halfway out of the door.

"...And you're with me wherever I go 'cause you give me this feeling, this everglow What I wouldn't give for just a moment to hold, because I live for this feeling, this everglow..."

He doesn't come for the next one and a half hour, wandering around in his neighbourhood subconsciously. He pays no attention to his surroundings, where he goes or who is around him, he just walks, buried deep within the world of his thoughts as he walks, his hands stuck in his jacket's pocket.

The idea of writing his feelings out that he’s heard Calum propose back in his house comes back again and again to his mind. Maybe it actually would be a great idea. Maybe it would help deal with these awful, undescribable feelings he never should've experience - at least not so soon.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Today marks day 183 since (y/n) died and here I am with 62 finished songs. This is the last one," Luke speaks to his phone set on his desk, front camera opened and rolling.

His guitar lays in his lap and his fingers effortlessly move to the needed position. He plays the first chords, letting the sound gently fill the room as his eyes stay trained on the small, creased notebook that sits between his phone and himself on the wooden surface.

Soon he starts singing, his voice quiet and overwhelmingly emotional, but he just can't help it. Somewhere during the song he looks at the hand that's wrapped around the guitar's neck to make sure he plays the following chords perfectly - not like he would play them wrong anyway, but it makes him feel calmer when he looks - and when he does, he could swear that from the corner of his eyes he sees (y/n) standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a proud, loving glaze in her eyes.

It encourages him to keep going. He can feel her support hang in the air and fill the room up. She wants to let him know - wherever she is at the moment - that she'll support him no matter what.

No matter what he does, what he thinks, who he's with. She just wants what's best for him. It's like he could actually hear her voice say the words. Let me go. You'd want the same for me if it was the other way around.

And he knows she's right. If he was the one that died, he'd want her to move on and leave him and his memory in the past so she could live a happy life with someone else, because she deserved to have all the experience and memories they wanted to make together, even if it's with another person.

And this thought is enough for him to slowly make peace with the outrageous turn his life has taken, and suddenly he knows that even though she'll always be a part of him and will always have a piece of his heart, he will be able to grow to let the grief - and her - go.

"...So if you love someone, you should let them know Oh, the light that you left me will everglow..."

.::the end::.

my masterlist

[queermediastudies]

Carol, Romance and Lack of Inclusion

A US trailer for the film.

Carol, a film based on the book The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith, starring Rooney Mara and Cate Blanchett, came out in 2015 and attained great critical success. Nominated for 6 Oscars, 5 golden Globes, and 9 BAFTA film awards. It also won two awards in the Cannes film festival, best actress (Rooney Mara), and the Queer Palm award, due to its being “The first time a love story between two women was treated with the respect and significance of any other mainstream cinematic romance.” (IMDB). It is, refreshingly, explicitly queer, avoiding much of the LGBTQ+ audience’s need to undertake a “queer reading” (Doty, 1993) of yet another heterosexual film. The storyline, acting and production of this film are all extremely well done; however, it has several problematic factors such as its lack of LGBTQ+ cast members in its lead roles, lack of racially diverse casting, and marketing that hid the film’s queer storyline.

The movie tells the love story of two women living in the 1950s. Therese, played by Rooney Mara, is a department store clerk in New York City. While at work, she runs into a customer, Carol, played by Cate Blanchett, with whom she has an unexpected connection. The two women gradually begin a romantic relationship. Carol’s soon to be ex-husband, Harge (played by Kyle Chandler), complicates things by attempting to stop her contact with their daughter due to the “immorality” of her relationship with Therese. Unable to see her daughter, Carol takes Therese on a road trip, where they fall deeper in love. On their road trip, they discover that Harge has hired someone to follow them and collect evidence of Carol’s “immoral behavior.” After Harge’s discovery, Carol leaves Therese a letter with her best friend Abby (Played by Sarah Paulson) in which she ends their relationship. Heartbroken, Therese returns to New York  and begins a new chapter of her life in which she embraces her lesbianism. After deciding that living a life free from Harge’s shaming of her sexuality is more important to her than having full custody of her daughter, Carol leaves him for good and calls Therese. The movie ends with their long, lingering eye contact across a restaurant, implying that they end up together.

A silly (but informative) video that summarizes and comments on the movie.

This movie tells a beautiful, if complicated, love story between two women set in the 1950s. It does not fall for many of the storyline pitfalls that many other lesbian films do, such as an unhappy ending due to homophobia, or sex or love scenes directed for the male gaze. In fact, the film was intentionally directed as if seen through the eyes of 1950s underground female photographers.

A Vanity Fair interview with Cate Blanchett in which she discusses the film’s directing style.

It is “unabashedly romantic” (Blanchett, 2016) and urges the audience to fall in love with Carol along with Therese. It also does not follow a rule of “gay and lesbian representation: no sexual interaction.” (Dow, 2001), but includes it in such a way that it contributes to the story without adding gratuity or oversexualization of either character. There is a great deal complexity to the two characters, and their love story is not the only thing happening in the film, which feels refreshing because “mainstream Hollywood films that deal with actual gay and lesbian lives and issues are extremely rare.” (Bernshoff and Griffin, 2004). They are not one-dimensional characters, they face outside pressures, such as Therese learning what she wants, not only in a partner, but in her professional life as she works to become a professional photographer. Carol’s struggle to separate from her husband is one of her character’s key driving factors, and it is complicated greatly by her social standing.

Therese’s character is relatively lower class, she works in a department store and her apartment is small and dingy. Carol on the other hand is an older, unhappily married woman whose family (or at least her husband’s family) is extremely well off. The social structures we see surrounding the two women are very different, and we see how they affect the two women in different ways. Although she works hard to make it in the world, Therese’s social circles are much more accepting of her queer identity, and it is almost as if there is nothing to lose for her. However, for Carol there is everything to lose. Her daughter, Rindy, is the light of her life, but when she leaves Harge for a woman, he punishes her by forcing her to keep away from their daughter. Throughout the movie we see Harge’s vicious and determined homophobia and its direct negative effects on Carol, but unlike in other films, it does not destroy her will to love who she wants.

Despite the movie’s overall beautiful representation of a romantic relationship, there are several issues with the film. The book it is based off of was written by a Queer woman and the storyline of the film is blatantly queer, however neither of the starring Actresses in the movie are queer. This is a missed opportunity in terms of the film’s casting, particularly for the film’s queer audience and for the queer actresses who likely auditioned and were denied one of their few opportunities to play a queer character in a mainstream movie. Both Blanchett and Mara are fantastic actresses, however, this does not take away the fact that queer women could have been cast into the film’s starring roles. There were queer actresses in the film, namely Sarah Paulson, playing Carol’s friend Abby, and Carrie Brownstein, who played a woman Therese flirts with at a party, but their roles were relatively minor. Based on this, it can easily be said that the movie’s production is “merely satisfying demands for inclusion without actually challenging the larger structural and systemic labor issues.” (Martin, 2018).

One of the film’s US promotional posters.

In addition to its lack of inclusion of queer cast members, this movie is overwhelmingly white. Very, very few people of color were cast in this film, and the only characters who were played by people of color were playing the roles of domestic staff. This film could easily have provided more opportunities for actors of color, but it chose not to. For a movie whose storyline and direction are so openly inclusive and somewhat groundbreaking, this lack of diversity in casting is disappointing. Both Carol and Therese were complex characters, but as with many other movies and tv shows about queer people they do not represent much intersectionality. They are both white, cisgender, able-bodied lesbian women, and the only aspect of identity that the film deals with is sexuality. Carol also avoids many of the issues of gender discrimination that were present in the 1950s that could easily have made its’ storyline and character development more nuanced. It can be seen as almost the opposite of the Oscar winning film Moonlight (2016), which is entirely made up of complex, intersectional characters. Despite its inclusivity to sexuality, it turns a blind eye to aspects of identity such as race and disability that likely play an important role in the lives of many of its viewers. As well as this, despite its’ openly queer trailer, the posters for the film deliberately displayed the two main characters as facing different directions and looking away from each other. This could have been an intentional choice to convince less accepting heterosexual moviegoers to watch the film, and it also implies that the film’s homosexual content should be hidden.

The first time I saw this film, I was 16, and just beginning to think about my sexuality as something other than straight. I voraciously consumed tv and movies about Lesbian and Bisexual women, hoping to find something I related to and felt included in. Carol, and its rich and beautifully stylized cinematography, was one of the few movies that made me feel heard and understood and felt like home to me. 

A scene where we see how Therese views Carol.

Unlike other movies I had seen, such as Blue is the Warmest Color, this movie made me feel like it was made for me. I was able to relate to the romance and feel like I wasn’t alone in feeling the way I did about, likely because I am able to relate to the two characters in the film, particularly Therese. Like most other movies about queer women, this movie is directed at young, white, able-bodied, cisgender, middle-class queer women, of which I am one. It did not challenge my identity or the way I saw the world. Despite its many obvious flaws, to me the most important aspect of this movie was how it displayed the growing relationship between Therese and Carol in a way that felt relatable and evoked deep feelings that made me relive the intense and beautiful experiences of first love. 

References

Bernshoff, Harry and Griffin, Sean (2004). “Introduction,” in Queer Cinema: The Film Reader, 1-15.

Carol. (2020). Retrieved October 29, 2020, from https://www.imdb.com/title/tt2402927/awards?ref_=tt_awd

Doty, Alexander. (1993) “There’s Something Queer Here” in Making Things Perfectly Queer, 1-16.

Dow, Bonnie (2001). “Ellen, Television, and the Politics of Gay and Lesbian Visibility.” Critical Studies in Media Communication 18(2), 123-140.

Martin, Alfred L. Jr (2018). “Pose(r): Ryan Murphy, Trans and Queer of Color Labor, and the Politics of Representation.” LA Review of Books.

[average-jor]

damaged.

i’m in such a dark place right now. i don’t know where it came from. i don’t know why. i am so scared, actually, of how intense of a feeling this is. i feel like a burden to those around me because of my anxiety and depression. i feel like i’m always bringing my husband down. i feel like just overwhelmed by a weight in myself and i don’t know what it is but i can’t fucking breathe. i can’t think. i can’t scream. i cry, i fully break down. multiple times a day. at home, when i’m driving, in a grocery store bathroom.. everywhere. i literally am at such a loss. i’ve been so strong my whole life. holding myself up, picking myself up, doing everything i can to make sure i’m okay. but i’m not okay. no matter what great things are happening around me, in my life, directly affecting me, i just can’t feel it. i can’t feeeel anything. except this dark heavy cloud of shit hovering over me ready to drop bombs of insecurity, lies, intrusive thoughts, and an overall sense of unease. 

i haven’t been eating. not on purpose. i want to eat. i’m so hungry all the time. plus i’m a diabetic. but i can’t. i physically can’t do it. i’ll order something or make something or buy something that sounds so fucking good. i’ll take 2 bites and even those i have to force myself to eat. there’s a disconnect somewhere between the food and my mouth or something idk. i just know i want to but i can’t. there’s a wall i never see coming, swooping in and shutting me off completely to the things that are going to help me feel good. be good. 

i keep trying to tell myself it’s just stress about money, but it’s not. we’re actually doing so much better in our finances. which i want to feel relieved about but i don’t feel it. i feel like i’m losing myself just when my life is really about to get better. i keep telling the fucked up abused hurt heartbroken little girl inside me to just hang on a little longer. she’s losing her grip though. i can feel it. i’m barely hanging on. 

i have a therapist. but right now, she’s on vacation. i genuinely feel like i can’t talk to anyone about this. my bff is going through some really personal shit with her marriage right now, so i don’t feel like i can burden her with this. my other really close friend is the girl i mentioned in a previous post who ended our friendship for a while, and i feel like she’s going to end up worrying about me and its going to affect her mental health, like last time, and then i’ll lose her as a friend again. i tell her sometimes some stuff that’s going on. but i’m not really all that honest about it because i don’t feel like i can be. my husband. my amazing husband is the only true lifeline i feel like i have sometimes but how is that fair to him?? he’s on a business trip, trying to focus on working hard so we can pay our bills and not be where we were a month ago. he doesn’t have time for this shit and i don’t want to burden him with my garbage and bring him down or cause him to be anxious from states away where he can’t help. my family is great, but i’ve never been able to fully let myself be a part of it. they were my foster parents at a time. i met them when i was 16. i’m 32 and they still consider me to be their daughter. their daughters consider me to be their sister. i consider all of them to be my family. but i’m terrified that if i say something or do something they disagree with a lot or something, that they’ll leave. i’ll never not think that someone is going to leave me. i’ll never not think that i’m not worth it to people to stick around. 

i feel like i have no one. i feel like i am no one. i feel unimportant, i feel like a ball and chain around the ankles of those i love. i feel so incredibly overwhelmingly and heartbreakingly LOST. i don’t want to kill myself. but i do want this pain to stop. and i’m trying so hard to make that happen. i just don’t know how. 

[mageicalwishes]

Crying In My Prom Dress - Chapter 5

Read on AO3: here

Read the previous chapter (on Tumblr): here

Summary: The Leaver’s Ball marks the end of the school year. The end of their time at Watford. Baz has a confession to make before it’s too late. But, will he ever pluck up the courage to tell Simon how he feels?

Inspired by the song “Prom Dress” by Mxmtoon.

Chapter: 5/7

Words: 4,025

Baz

This is undoubtedly a new low. I’m sitting, crying on the floor of the school’s bathroom stall. I am such a disgrace. I spelled the stall clean prior to sitting down (obviously), but I will still be needing at least an hour in the shower later - It’s a particularly grim place to have chosen to have my little breakdown. I don’t often cry, in fact I pride myself in my near unfaltering ability to suppress any emotion above purely neutral. However, tonight everything finally got the better of me. Everything simply got to be too much.

I guess that, faced with the reality of leaving Watford, I just feel overwhelmingly disappointed. Everyone else has been talking about how amazing their time here has been, but I can’t say I feel the same. Of course, there are some positives - Academically I excelled (and I genuinely enjoyed learning here), Dev and Niall have always been there for me, and most of the teachers were lovely. And, of course, there is Snow. But, on balance, it just feels as though I’m ending on a low. Watford was the place that my mother was murdered, the place I became what I am - So, I never expected to adore it. But, I at least expected to look back on my time here as being an overall positive. Unfortunately, it just hasn’t been. I wasn’t leaving Watford with a wealth of lifelong friends (my outwardly cold demeanour ensured that few really got close enough to become more than a casual acquaintance). I wasn’t leaving Watford with the love of my life in my arms (I’ll never get the chance to tell Snow now, he’s still wrapped up with Wellbelove). I wasn’t leaving Watford feeling as though I'd made my Father proud (he didn’t really react much at all when I told him I finished top of the year). I suppose I just expected more. Looking back on my time here - I have far too many regrets. What if I had told Snow how I feel? What if I had allowed more people to really get to know me? What if I hadn’t pushed so many people away? I just feel bitter. It seems everybody got their happy ending - Everybody, but me. They were all dancing about with their lovers or friends, and I was standing there talking to the bloody Magic Words teacher. Pathetic. All in all, it was a pretty miserable excuse for a final farewell party.

Simon

When I shuffle into the bathroom the sound immediately hits me - Sniffling. Somebody is definitely crying. Baz is crying. Merlin, he really must be upset - I’ve never seen Baz cry. I’ve rarely even seen him crack a smile.

“Baz? Is that you?” I ask, hesitantly.

“Crowley, Snow. You seriously can’t let me out of your sight for more than five minutes, can you? Am I not allowed even a moment of privacy? You are frustratingly persistent in your endeavour to become the most annoying Mage to ever live,” he croaks. His words are clearly supposed to be his usual brand of biting, but the cracking of his voice softens the blow significantly.

“What’s wrong? Whatever it is you can tell me. I promise I won’t tell anybody else."

“It is none of your concern, Snow. Go back to your ball”

“It is my concern. Just … Let me in. I want to talk to you. If you don’t, I’ll have to try and spell the door open. You probably don’t want that ... There is a fairly high chance that might backfire," I continue, unbothered by his attempts to turn me away.

“Merlin. Fine,” he sighs. “But breathe a word of this to anybody, including Bunce, and I will not hesitate to murder you. And, I can assure you I will not afford you the mercy of a quick death.”

I laugh then, and I hear the quiet click of the lock. I push the door open lightly, and plop myself down on the floor beside him, locking the door behind myself. He’s hugging his legs against his chest, and has his chin rested on top of his knees. He’s hanging his head forward, clearly trying to hide his face behind his sheet of black hair. I’ve never seen Baz look anything less than perfect (even now he looks frustratingly put together for a bloke who is sat crying on the floor of a bathroom). But, he looks smaller now than I’ve ever seen him. Fragile, almost. My heart constricts at the sight of him. I sort of want to hug him - I definitely shouldn’t though, he’d probably snap my neck if I tried.

“Are you okay?” I whisper.

“Yes, Snow. As you can see, I’m positively ecstatic,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Sorry. That was a bit of a stupid question, I know. Just … Just tell me whats wrong”

He looks over at me then. His cheeks are glistening where he’s been crying, and his nose is slightly flushed. The urge to hug him swells up within me, again.

“I tried to tell you it was none of your concern, Snow. But, you’re so bloody headstrong, you’d probably end up blowing us both up trying to unlock the door,” he scoffs.

“Probably,” I mumble. “If you’re not going to tell me, I’ll just have to keep guessing until I get it right. I can always tell when you’re lying, so I’ll know when I get it.”

He raises a disbelieving eyebrow at me.  “Go on then, Snow. Dazzle me.”

“Did your date not show up? Is that why you were late? Were you waiting for someone?”

“No, Snow. I didn’t have a date. Try again.” he says, his voice unnaturally flat. At least, I’m pretty sure he’s stopped crying now (his voice isn’t as shaky anymore) - That's good.

“Why not? Loads of girls fancy you, I’m sure you could’ve found a date easily,” I ask.

“Well, I’m afraid the feeling is not reciprocated. And, nobody really likes me, Snow. I’m not you, remember. I doubt everyone is as willing to go with me as you think. Besides, the person I wanted to go with already has a date. I’m not so insecure I need to take somebody I have no real interest in.”

“Oh,” I say, dumbfounded, Baz never gives this much about himself away. “Well, I like you. Loads of other people do too - I’m certain. Penny always says you’re smart. So, I’m sure somebody would’ve wanted to go with you. But, I understand that's not what you want. My point still stands though. But, Does - I mean, does the person you wanted to go with know that you did? They might not really like whoever they ended up going with … They may have wanted to go with you too. Maybe they were just waiting for you to ask?”

“No. I can assure you they are very happy with their date. They wouldn’t have wanted to go with me.”

I sigh. He can be so stubborn sometimes. He can’t know for sure if he never even tried. “Okay,” I concede. “Well … Did Miss Posibelf say something that upset you?”

That earns me another eyebrow raise. “Spying on me again, Snow?,” he says, smirking. I don’t respond. He pauses then, his eyes scanning across my face as if he was trying to figure something out. “Look. I know you think you always have to be the hero, but you don’t. You don’t have to do this. Just - Just go have fun with Wellbelove - She’ll be waiting for you. Despite what you may think, I really don’t want to ruin your perfect last night together. You’ve established I’m not in here plotting, so you can go now. Everything is fine, Snow.”

I frown. “No. Everything isn’t fine," I argue. You’re clearly not fine. You don’t have to pretend you are - Because I can tell you’re not. And, I’m not just here because I think I have to be. I’m not a hero. I’m here because I want to be. I wanted to make sure you were okay." I huff, finished with my rant. "Oh -  And, uh ... me and Agatha broke up. So you don’t have to worry about her waiting for me - She isn’t. Her and Penny are dancing together.”

He looks over at me, his mouth hanging open slightly. “What? Why? You two seemed perfectly fine when I left," he stumbles.

“Uh … Well, she said that I was paying more attention to you than I was to her. Apparently I do that a lot. I said I was going to the bathroom and she knew I was only going because I saw you leave - So she dumped me,” I explain, awkwardly. He’s definitely going to laugh at me. I know it. Dumped because I’m obsessed with him - It's pretty bloody embarrassing. But, I’m not actually obsessed with him - Only Agatha and Penny think that (Well, once Dev said I was too, but he was probably just trying to wind me up). But, to my surprise, he doesn’t.

“Oh,” he murmurs “Me. It’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not angry at you,” I say in rush.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone sincere.

“Yeah. Honest, I’m fine. I’ve known for a while she was probably going to break up with me again. And, I thought I loved her and everything - But, I don’t think I do. I mean I definitely don’t feel heartbroken, or whatever. More sort of … relieved? I don’t know. I’m not sad though. I didn’t even cry - Not because I didn’t let myself either, I just didn’t need to. So yeah, I’m fine. We’ve not really been a proper boyfriend and girlfriend for ages. She said she didn’t love me, and, well, I’m beginning to suspect I didn’t love her either. So, it’s all good. It’s probably better for the both of us. She didn’t seem upset either. I mean, she seemed happier dancing with Penny than she has with me the entire night, anyway. I’m good. And, just to be clear, it’s not your fault. Even if it was … I’m glad it’s over. Don’t tell anyone I said that though - I don’t want to accidentally upset Agatha, or something. I just … I guess she wasn’t my destiny, after all,” I ramble. I don’t really know why I told Baz everything in so much detail. I mean, I haven’t even told Penny yet (Although, Agatha probably has), so I don’t know why I told him. He’s staring at me, blankly. He keeps opening and closing his mouth like he’s trying to figure out what to say (he looks a little bit like a fish, it’s kind of funny).  “Sorry. I just … You know - I sort of butted in on your private moment. And, I’ve been asking you to tell me personal stuff. So - You know, I thought I should at least do the same. I’m not a hypocrite, you know,” I explain.

“It’s okay, Snow. You don’t have to - I mean, it’s fine. Don’t apologise. I just - I’m just surprised”

“Oh,” I chuckle. “You looked like you were malfunctioning. I thought I’d finally broken you.”

He laughs back, cracking his first proper smile of the evening. I like seeing him smile. “Hush, you. I’ve seen you trying to do Magical Words homework, that is what malfunctioning looks like,” he teases.

We sit in silence for a moment, our soft breathing the only sound filling the stall. His is slower than mine. Then he speaks, his voice barely a whisper. “Look, Snow. I’ll tell you. Just - Just don’t tell anybody.”

“I won’t. I promise. We can do that oath spell if you don’t believe me.”

“We don’t need the spell. I believe you,” he says, taking a deep breath. “I was upset because … Because, Watford didn't turn out to be all I had hoped it would be. I guess, I just feel disappointed. There are so many regrets, so many what-ifs - And, now it’s all over. No time left to fix anything, no time to make amends - I just have to accept things as they are. And, the Ball … it just made me feel worse. I was under the impression that the person I wanted to be with already had a date they were very happy with. And, Dev and Niall were busy with their dates. So I just felt a bit … Alone. It just overwhelmed me,” he says, nervously wringing his hands together in his lap.

“Oh. I’m sorry. You still have a few hours at Watford, I’m sure you could fix something if you wanted. But, I’m sorry it wasn’t what you had hoped. You came top of the year though, that’s great. You should be proud of that. And … Well, I don’t have a date. You could dance with me if you’d like. That way you won’t be alone.”

“Dance. With you. In front of everybody,” he scoffs.

“Yeah. Why not? Come on - It’ll be fun. Seven years together - I reckon I at least owe you a dance”

“Hmmm” he mumbles, clearly unconvinced.

I jump up, holding my hand out to him. “Come on. It’ll be fun, trust me. You’ve trained me up to be a proper little dancer - I’d hate for all your hard work to go to waste.”

He snickers. “Hardly, Snow. Despite my best efforts, your footwork is truly appalling,” he teases, reaching up and sliding his hand into mine, allowing me to pull him up off of the floor.

Victory.

————————————————————————————

Baz

Simon Snow still can’t dance. He has stepped on my shoes at least twelve times, but I don’t even mind. I’m so far gone for him. We’re holding each other close, moving together slowly. People are staring (obviously, they all know us to be mortal enemies), but I can’t find it in myself to care. I’ve got far more important things on my mind. I’m holding him, and he’s holding me. He’s laced our fingers together tightly, our palms pressed firmly together - His hand is so warm in mine. He’s so close to me like this, and he’s beaming up at me. I’m the reason behind his smile - It’s exhilarating. He’s chatting away happily, telling me about some football tournament he set up with some lads on the beach last summer. It’s perfect. If I let myself, it’s easy to pretend that this is something more than it really is - That we’re something more than we really are. Snow was right - This is fun.

————————————————————————————

Much to my dismay, the DJ seems to have resorted to playing exclusively upbeat, pop songs (meaning there is now no excuse to hold Snow). However, Snow has not stopped dancing - If you can class what he’s currently doing as dancing, that is. He’s madly hopping up and down on the spot, flailing his arms around like a lunatic. If Snow is bad at slow dancing, he is positively abysmal at regular dancing. I’m not complaining though, in spite of his terrible dance moves, he is a sight to behold. His curls are mad now, going in every sort of direction. And, his cheeks have flushed a frankly distracting pink, with the exertion of it all. He's stunning.

“Do you want to go and get a drink? I think I might pass out if I don’t - I’m boiling!" he asks.

“Sure,” I say, nodding my head. He smiles up at me, reaching out towards me, and intertwining our hands once more. He turns then, pulling me in the direction of the drinks table. He weaves us through the dense crowd,  refusing to drop my hand until we reach our destination. We must’ve looked slightly strange, but I couldn’t care less. Everyone else is irrelevant right now. Snow held my hand, without the excuse of dancing together. He held it because he wanted to - Granted, most likely not for the reason I would like, but I’ll take what I can get. And this - This is more than I could have ever hoped for.

We sit beside each other on the floor at the edge of the hall, while Snow finishes his drinks - He got three whole pint glasses of lemonade. Honestly, that boy is ridiculous. We don’t talk much (since he’s busy guzzling down his lemonade) , but it’s nice. Every now and then, he’d look over and smile at me slightly - It made my heart melt. I’d gladly sit on this rock-hard floor all day if it meant that he’d smile at me like that.

“We should go and find Penny when I’m done,” he says, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his blazer. Even that uncouth habit couldn't put me off of him now. “Just, I haven’t really spoken to her since we arrived. You okay with that? We can stay just you and me if you’d prefer.”

Of course, I’d rather stay just us two, but I can’t tell him that. I’m already walking on dangerous territory (I’ve allowed myself to take far too many liberties this evening) - If I was that honest, he would certainly suspect something was up. “Certainly, Snow. That's fine by me,” I mumble.

————————————————————————————

When we reach Bunce, she’s got her eyebrows raised and a smug, knowing smile plastered across her face. How irritating. Snow grabbed my hand on the way over - And, she has definitely noticed. I drop his hand quickly, as if burnt. He pouts up at me, clearly confused. I understand why, I’ve let him hold my hand all evening - Everyone around us has already seen, but Bunce seeing is entirely different. Bunce is aware of my real feelings towards Snow. Doing that in front of her … It’s humiliating. Simon just shrugs at me, and jogs forwards, scooping Bunce up into a huge hug.

“Hey Pen, How has your night been? Where did Agatha go?” He asks. Oh. Right. Wellbelove. I had sort of forgotten about her.

“Pretty good, thanks. Aggie went to go and dance with Keris and Trixie. I don’t think she’ll come back,” she answers.

Thank God. I’m not sure whether I could tolerate an evening of Snow and Wellbelove sharing wistful gazes at one another. Although, Snow says he wasn't particularly bothered by their breakup, and I believe him (he never has been a good liar). So, perhaps it wouldn't have been like that at all. Still, her being here would’ve been a bit too awkward for my liking - Given that, technically, I’m the reason they broke up. Somehow, I doubt Wellbelove would’ve appreciated my presence there.

We all start dancing again then. Bunce really isn’t much better than Snow. It’s frankly embarrassing how rhythm-less the two of them are, but dancing with them is far superior to standing on the edge of the hall alone. Bunce slowly shimmies herself over so she is standing beside me, then.  She taps on my side, and gestures for me to bring my head down so that she can whisper something in my ear. I oblige, reluctantly (Whatever Bunce has to say, I doubt it’s anything I want to hear).

“I see you listened to my advice, Basilton. What exactly did you tell him?,” she asks, her tone teasing.

Oh. She thinks I told him. Well, I suppose that is understandable, given that Snow has been clinging onto my hands at every available opportunity - We must’ve looked like a couple. Just the thought of that makes me giddy. Me and Snow … A couple. I should be so lucky!

“No, Bunce, you’ve got it wrong. I haven’t told him anything. So please, Keep your trap shut . Unless you’d rather me cast a Cat Got Your Tongue on you - That can be arranged, if need be,” I threaten.

She pulls away from me, an unamused frown adorning her face. “Calm down. I’ve told you already, your secret is safe with me. Sorry, I just assumed … with the hand holding,” she says, her voice trailing off towards the end.

I grimace. Bunce talking about it makes me feel horrendously uncomfortable. I know she saw (obviously), but talking about it - That’s different.

She sighs at me, then. “Seriously? Just - Just tell him. Tonight, Basilton. It’s your last chance, Please don’t waste it - You’ll regret it if you do. There is obviously something going on between the two of you. I just want you both to figure it out.”

I give her a curt nod, unsure of what to say. She rolls her eyes, clearly fed up with trying to convince me. I look over at Snow, he’s still blissfully flopping about the dance-floor, a bright grin spread across his face. He’s the brightest thing in the room. He’s shining. Frustratingly, Bunce is right - I know she is. I have to tell him . And, I will - Tonight. Maybe not until we get back to our room, though. That is not a conversation I want anybody to overhear.

With my decision made, I straighten my back and walk back over to Snow, taking my place at his side.

————————————————————————————

The rest of the night passed in a blur. Me and Snow danced together until the DJ announced that the night was officially over (Bunce had already left by that point). It had undoubtedly been the best night of my life so far. I felt alive - Really, truly, wholly alive. And it was all Snow’s doing.

Now, we’re sitting side-by-side on the steps of the White Chapel. It’s freezing out here, and I’m so close to him that I can feel his body trembling against mine. Every cell in my body is screaming for me to reach out and wrap my arms around him (not that I could really heat him up) - But, I dare not. I’m not entirely sure what we’re supposed to be doing here - Snow just sat himself down on the floor without any explanation, patting the floor beside him in an invitation for me to join. Of course, I didn’t protest. For whatever reason, Snow wanted to spend more time with me - I certainly wasn’t going to turn him down.

“Hey, Baz,” he says, turning to face me. “Were you planning on going to the after-party?”

“Uh. No, Snow. To be perfectly honest with you, I wasn’t aware there was one,” I explain.

“Oh. Well, Keris is hosting one. Everybody is invited. And, she only lives like a fifteen minute walk away. And, I - Um, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? It’s not supposed to be starting until one thirty, so we have time to go and change and everything. But, we could go together? If you wanted.” He’s nervous, I can tell - He’s refusing to meet my eyes, staring intently down at his lap instead.

“With you?” I ask, disbelieving.

“Uh yeah. That’s what I meant. Un - Unless there is somebody else you’d rather go with?”

“No,” I say, far too quickly. My heart is pounding. I need to calm down. “No. There is nobody else. I want to go with you.”

“Wicked” he says, smiling at me, his dimple popping obscenely. Looking at him like this is like staring directly into the sun - It burns. He’s so beautiful it hurts. I dart my gaze down, suddenly sheepish. He’s everything I want. I love him - As absurd as it is, I really do. I love him more than anything. I have to tell him. And it has to be tonight.

He reaches out and rests his hand on top of mine, and I feel my heart surge within my chest . “Come on then,” he whispers. “Let’s go and get ready.”

[no-i-didnt-notice-im-short]

Red Petals

Thank you so much! I hope you like this ❤ 

I hope I didn’t lose my touch. I am breaking this into two parts because it was kinda long :)

Ao3, Part 2

Landing safely, in one piece, on Earth was the biggest relief to the Paladins and their companions. They have been travelling for about 2 months, if their devices were correct, and it was starting to show with how exhausted everyone was. Stress was catching up to them, some more than the others – namely Lance and Allura.

Lance felt for Allura, losing her home again as well the news of more Alteans, not only alive, but tortured and harvested for Lotor’s own personal gain. Romelle’s full story left Allura in tears and the others heartbroken with guilt for believing the Galran Prince’s lies.

The ex-Blue Paladin stood at the shore overlooking the ocean after literal hours of begging Allura for Cuba to be their safe haven for a few days as he missed his large family immensely. The sunset left a red-ish hue on the water, adding to the moment’s perfection. The true heat coming from the pure earthen sun and the air mixed with salt and Lance knew he was home.

After dark, he trekked back to his home where he left the others to be attended to by his parents as they set up the extra rooms and couches for sleep space. His mother shocked him with the news that most of his siblings moved out while he was gone. His older siblings, their spouses and their kids all got homes on the same street to grow their families, leaving his parents and the twins. The old bedrooms now occupied by the ex-ship residents.

He suggested anyone sleep with him in his room on the couch he had in the corner if they want but they all collectively agreed that Lance should enjoy his room at his house, alone. Everyone knew how intense his homesickness became the last year in space, not even close to being matched by Hunk’s as the Yellow Paladin made peace with being away from his mothers a long time ago.

His father and Hunk were having a conversation in the garage, something about their car and fixing something, Lance never really payed attention to this kind of stuff. Shiro and his mother were talking old recipes, apparently his mother always wanted to learn the Japanese cuisine and Shiro had mentioned that he had some memorized and was willing to share with his mother.

Only some though! My mother loved secrecy about her magic soups Shiro had joked at one point.

Lance learned that Shiro’s father died in a pilot error when he was 15, which ultimately killed his mother from heartbreak not long after, leaving Shiro in the foster system in his sophomore year of high school where he met Keith. He kept her recipes memorized to remember her in food in times of need.

He turned his gaze to Keith sitting on the couch with a cup of green tea in his hands. Tension wrinkles smoothed on his face with the domesticity shown to him, something he suspected the ex- Red Paladin hadn’t seen in a while. His hair was tied in a bun and his armour exchanged with a hoodie from Lance’s older siblings stash of clothes left here and some sweat pants. He looked absolutely serene. The Cuban didn’t want to blink as to not miss a single second of… this.

He thought of the last time they truly talked and what it had caused him. The pain of suppressed coughs and hidden bloody tissues that serve as a reminder stacked in his pant pocket.

They had estimated two more days to reach Earth and everyone was super excited and nervous at the same time. They sat around a make shift fire, something they are now becoming experts in making and destroying in a matter of seconds in case of other inhabitants on the planet.

Food was distributed all around proceeded with soft chatter of what they missed the most about Earth and what to expect. Romelle listened to everyone; her eyes sparkled with wonder at everything anyone mentioned, especially at Pidge’s description of Pizza.

Pidge sat next to Hunk with his arm around her shoulders, Shiro and Allura were basically spooning in front of everyone while Coran glared at them with the disappointed father look. It wasn’t as to what it meant more like no-PDA-no-matter-how-platonic-it-actually-was. Krolia and Romelle sat next to each other with Cosmo between them completely relaxed and sleeping with both women scratching behind his ears.

Lance was too aware of Keith sitting next to him, their shoulders slightly touching, heart beating too fast to be healthy at this point and Lance was shocked as to how Keith didn’t hear it yet. He tried to normalise his breathing while thinking of a specific turning point for Keith to have this kind of reaction on Lance. When no one memory popped up, he settled on the fact that Keith always did this, he just pushed it to the back of his mind to not think about it too much.

“I personally just miss my family.” Lance said with a fond smile not really looking at anything in particular. “My brothers and sisters. Dios! Mama’s food!!”

“How many siblings do you have?!” Keith blurted, slight feint redness covering his cheeks. Lance filed it under the aftereffects of the heat on the planet.

“What Keith meant was you always talk about a big family, you can’t possibly have that many siblings.” Allura laughed.

“I do!” Lance beamed at the chance to talk about his family. “I have three older brothers and two older sisters! That also means that I have nephews and nieces. Who knows how many more I have now after leaving for this long… I also have twins younger than me, we were so close…”

Lance saw Keith and Shiro share a pointed look; he was probably bringing the mood down with that last comment. He tried not to but it was this constant fear that he was missing too much of his family’s life. He was gone too long.

“I’m sure your family would enjoy the chance to talk to you about what you missed, people sometimes like to talk about themselves and their accomplishments.” Keith smiled at lance but the words played too much in his mind. Was this what Keith thought of when he spoke about his family? That he liked to talk about himself too much?

He felt a cough tickling his throat but he suppressed it and pushed it away.

“Yeah… Probably.” He didn’t speak much after that the whole night but that didn’t stop him from paying too much attention to every single word that Keith said, every breath he took and every sound he made.

Lance took a deep breath, feeling overwhelmingly breathless. There was this crushing pressure on his chest that won’t go away no matter how hard he tried. Tiny pricks on the inside of his throat that just begs for release.

He stood up too fast and ran to the nearest clearing away from the others. He doubled over in a coughing fit that he was sure was going to result with losing a lung. The Cuban felt an actual velvety feeling clawing its way up his throat making its presence known. After a few more tries he finally succeeded in extracting it to see a red… petal.

It was like he was drenched by ice bucket, the shock vibrating his every nerve. He didn’t need a doctor to tell him what he had, he already knew; Hanahaki’s Disease. He actually had Hanahaki’s Disease. Lance knew he felt too much but not to the extent where he might actually die.

He brought his hand to his mouth as his thoughts were cut off by another fit, this time when he removed his hand it was coloured crimson.

He didn’t remember much after seeing red. Only that he ended up in his Lion and just laid there for hours looking at the ceiling thinking of a way to tell Keith about his feelings for him, but the more he thought about it the more it seemed like a farfetched dream. He knew Keith didn’t take him into high regards from the way he talked to him, not that it stopped Lance from falling for him… hard.

He tried distracting his mind by sitting next to the twins on the floor while they played with his Bayard. Seeing them both as old as 17 was heart-breaking for him; solidifying how long he was gone. Five years… Five long years. Marco’s hair was long reaching his shoulders, highlighted with blue streaks, though tied in a bun at the moment. He was the one who gave Keith the hair tie because Veronica’s was a pixie cut.

He almost didn’t recognise his younger sister when he first arrived due to how drastic her change was. Her usual long brown curls exchanged with a pixie cut with a shaved side that had two carefully drawn parallel lines in the middle. It was beyond beautiful in his eyes and he was never as in awe with her as he was the minute he walked into the house. She also apparently came out while he was gone.

They were alike yet so different, the Sierro Twins.

“So what you are saying is that you saved our bother’s ass too many times?” Vero looked at Keith, a twinkle in her eyes. “Man, I am going to have blackmail material to last a lifetime.”

“How do you open this? Is it heat registered? Does it have to do with DNA?” Marco was moving his Bayard in all directions pushing every single button-looking edge. “But if it was DNA then it should open to me, right! I am his brother.”

Keith smiled at her reaction and looked at Marco. “No, you are supposed to be a Paladin to actually open it. Besides, you are not identical to Lance so even if it was with DNA, it wouldn’t open with you.”

Lance felt a pang at Vero’s comment. Keith doesn’t think of you as competent. His brain added. And you want to tell him of your feelings? You can’t stop the inevitable.

“Well we are a team and we all saved each other’s asses” Keith giggled. “But yes Lance wound up in the healing pods way more than anyone else.”

The twins laughed at that. “Dude you have to tell me about every single time.” “Yeah, all the stories! We want to know everything about Lance in space.”

“Well, it was quite an experience.”

“Yeah I bet it was.”

Lance smiled at the interaction trying to hide the hurt. He knew he was a pain in Keith’s ass, but not that much. Did Keith hate hanging out with him that much?

Of course he did. A voice supplied. Why else would he leave the only people he knew in space the moment you showed him how much of a burden you really are?

He didn’t quite catch what the twins said to Keith but the laugh it got from him was enough to knock the wind out of Lance… literally. The previous pricks came back with vengeance and it was harder to breath by the second.

He wasn’t aware of the fact that he was hyperventilating until he felt a soothing hand rubbing his back. It helped but not as much as he wanted. He looked up and found Keith’s face too close to his lung’s liking and he coughed even more. Concerned violet eyes searching his face for answers he couldn’t give, not ever.

“That’s it. Deep breaths”

He followed Keith’s orders until his breathing soothed, not back to normal, but still slightly better. He sat straight with his back leaning on the couch for a sense of stability. He slowly opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. Keith was kneeling infront of him with a worried expression.

“What was that?” Keith’s voice was uncharacteristically low and gentle. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you have a panic attack before.”

Panic attack? Is that what he thought this was? Good.

“Just thought of something…” Lance replied, playing to the idea. He had had his fair share of panic attacks in his life and knew what they felt like. “I couldn’t stop.”

“Yeah… I get it.”

“I have to go.” Lance made to stand up but hand held him firmly to the ground preventing him.

“You won’t be okay for a while after that attack. Stay here and I’ll get you some water.”

After making sure Lance wasn’t going anywhere, he made his way to the kitchen. In the meantime, Lance thought about how utterly dead he was. Every action Keith seemed to make made whatever this thing was worse. He loved the Texan too much that if the disease didn’t kill him, Keith not reciprocating his feelings will (aka. Rejection) which ultimately was what the disease made sure of.

Keith returned not too long after with a glass of water and Hunk trailing behind him.

“Heard you just had a panic attack, Man you didn’t have one of those in months.”

“Months?” Keith exclaimed.

“Yeah. Lance and I met on the couch waiting to go to the counsellor for our anxiety. Remember, Lance?” Hunk smiled at Lance.

“How could I forget?! You asked me to be your friend that day.”

“Yupp! Best decision ever!”

“Aww buddy! You are the best.”

Keith raised his arms up to bring the attention to himself.

“Not that this isn’t the cutest shit I’ve seen, but why did you think both of you living together at Garrison was a good idea considering you both had anxiety?!”

“Hunk thought that since we both have it, it would do us good to look after each other if not after ourselves. I took care of him and he took care of me.”

“I never knew you had anxiety.” Keith turned to Lance. The Cuban’s eyes focused on the floor. Talking about his anxiety wasn’t something he wanted to open up about to the one person he is trying to supress his feelings from.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

“I’m pretty sure I got the gist of it.” Keith rolled his eyes and smiled. Lance chest tightened at the sight. “I’m going to go see Shiro, you’ll be okay?”

“I’m not invisible, you know.” Hunk sighed. “I’ve been taking care of his ass for years.”

“You know what I mean.” Keith said, walking out of the room back to the kitchen. Hunk looked at Lance, raising a brown eyebrow.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Lance sighed. Hunk was the last person he was trying to hide anything from. Mainly because he knew it was fruitless. “I… I think I have…” He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms trying to conjure the right words for this situation.

“Take your time, buddy.” The Samoan boy sat next to Lance at the couch and rubbed his back. It was always a calming gesture he would use when he saw the other stressed while trying read something. It wasn’t that he could read, it was because after a long day his eyes became blurry and he stops comprehending any word written on the paper he was supposed to learn.

Instead of saying it, he dug up the red petal from his pocket and held it up to Hunk. He hoped he would understand what it meant without having to explain.

Hunk was quiet for a few minutes, the gears in his brains almost audible. A sharp intake of breath and a low “No…” and Lance figured out he understood.

“You are sure its Keith?”

“You know I am.” He didn’t know what more to say. He had had a crush on his back at Garrison, but that was all that it was. A stupid, silly crush. It wasn’t a fatal disease that put an expiry date on his life.

“Tell him.”

“No.”

“Why? You could die, Lance. You understand that right?”

“Because… I just can’t okay.”

He got up and made to leave when a hand held his wrist.

“I can’t lose you. Keep that in mind.” And with that, he let go of Lance.

Walking up the stairs was much more of an effort that he would admit. He was completely breathless by the time he reached the top, his lungs feeling like sand paper and his head like it was going to explode. He bent down trying to calm his breathing before finishing his trip to his room.

“You sound like you are dying.” The hoarse sound of Pidge came of one of the twins’ rooms. “If anyone asks, I didn’t give you whatever bug you caught from me.”

“I don’t have a bug.”

“Well at least a bug is curable. What the hell is wrong with your lungs then?” she approached his and rubbed his back gently to ease his breathing. This seems to be the running theme with everyone who saw him.

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“And I am a forty-five year old French woman.”

“You could be with that sass you know.”

“Yeah yeah. Just tell me what’s wrong.” She creased her eyebrows in a way that said I am worried and you better tell me before I probe you myself and find out.

He stood up and walked to his room away from her… probing eyes. Leaving her with a quick “Don’t worry about lil ol’ me pidgey!” and locked his door.

When Keith walked into the kitchen for the second time that day, Shiro was sitting on the counter with a notebook and a pen and the concentration of a military man getting his debriefing.

“And then you add seven tablespoons of coco powder to the mixture. Now you remember what I told you before?”

“Yeah… you mix the dry ingredients first then add the liquid ones.”

“Good.��

He smiled but it quickly fell when he remembered why he was here.

“I really hate to disturb this wonderful episode of… I don’t know a Food Network show or something but Mrs. Sierro I was wondering if I could ask you a question.”

“Anything, my boy.” She smiled at him though he could tell a hint of concern was in her tone. She must’ve read his face well.

“I just found out Lance used to have anxiety… did he take medication for it?”

“Why did something happen?” The pot she was stirring was quickly placed on the counter. While she was taking off her apron, she muttered in quick Spanish and the words “Lance” and “Hunk” came in clear to Keith a few times.

“Nothing serious happened, Mrs. Sierro.” He tried to calm her down. “He just had a small panic attack and I called Hunk and he calmed down. They mentioned how they met at the counsellor’s office and that’s how I found out he had anxiety.”

“I never knew he had anxiety.” Shiro sound so tired and defeated. He imagined how bad he must feel not knowing that two if his crew… friends used to go to a councillor for actual mental illnesses.

“He used to.” Lance’s mother sighed. “After he was diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety, he was prescribed medications for them. He finished his anti-depressants dose before going off to Garrison but he still had the anxiety ones. The doctor said he might always need them.”

Shock and horror reflected on the Black Paladins. Their happy, lively Lance used to take anti-depressants and they never knew. They never even guessed he could be remotely that sad, not to the extent that he would be diagnosed with clinical depression. Keith knew how hard and bad he had to fight for recovery.

“His medication is in his room at the top shelf. If you think he needs them, that’s where they are.”

Keith thanked her and left. He could faintly hear Mrs. Sierro and Shiro talking about Lance and his past. He wanted to know more about Lance but he already felt bad for not asking the boy personally about all of this. He needed to be ready if something was to happen and to take precautions for the future. Maybe if they take his medications they could refill it later.

The thought of anything making the said boy feel anything remotely negative left a sour taste in Keith’s mouth. His happy image was etched in his memory, an image he would love to preserve and keep it as real as possible. He would go to the ends of the world for his team’s happiness. For Lance’s happiness. This whole thing made him see Lance in a different light.

[justsomekpopstuff]

NCT Reaction: Their S/O is  feeling insecure

Requested by anon

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

A/N: I know that you asked specifically for their s/o feeling insecure about their weight, but i decided to generalize it a bit. Hope that’s okay! Also, if anyone reading this feels insecure or down, know that you are beautiful any way that you are. Just because you don’t feel it doesn’t mean that someone else who loves you doesn’t. If you need someone to talk to, you could always message me! I’m always happy to talk.

Taeil: Be prepared to be smothered in affection. We already know that he loves giving hugs to everyone, so this would be his gut reaction to hearing about this. He would latch on to you silently for a decent amount of time before you would have to peel yourself out of his arms. This would be his go to after everything. Any time he would see you start to feel insecure or unsure of yourself, out come the hugs. He is a man of few words, but you would always feel safe and loved in his arms, and the insecurity would slowly fade away.

Johnny: Everyone knows he’s more easy-going, and a bit more light-hearted about life, but this is one thing that he would take very seriously. He is very compassionate, so he would hurt a lot knowing that you don’t love yourself as much as he loves you. He would do his best to remind you every single day that he loves you no matter what. And even if you do want to try and lose/gain weight, he will make sure that you do it in a safe way and take every precaution he can so you can feel more comfortable, if you wanted to.

Taeyong: He is another one that would be heartbroken over hearing something like this. He cares deeply for the people around him, and hearing this would make him feel like he failed you in some way. He would feel like he hadn’t done his best to make you happy and tell you you were loved. You would definitely have to take some time to comfort him, and you can bet that he is going to do even more for you to provide for you and make sure that you feel better. He would do as much as he could for you without question.

Yuta: His first reaction would be something to the effect of “im sorry...what?” because he honestly wouldn’t believe you at first. As soon as he realizes that you are being serious, his usually cheesy, smiley demeanor would be out the window. He would go very quiet, but he would be planning in his head how to make sure you never felt this way again. Over the next coming days, you will see a different side of Yuta - one that’s more overwhelmingly genuine and sweet. He would be determined to never have you feel that way again.

Doyoung: Similarly to all the others, he would be absolutely heartbroken. He would love everything about you so he really wouldn’t get how you could hate anything about yourself. He would instantly snap into action and start to have you talk out your insecurities, since he knows that sometimes talking it out helps relieve some of the fear. Once you did, he would be similar to Johnny and would help you in your process, making sure that you were being healthy. He would be your biggest cheerleader and would always make sure you felt loved.

Kun: He would be crushed to hear that you were insecure. He would make it a personal mission to make you smile somehow. He would bring you in close and do his best to comfort you. He would kiss your temples and whisper something to the affect of “I can do magic, so I am going to make all this fear of yours disappear”. The comment would definitely make you giggle a bit, and his heart would feel better knowing that he started to break down your insecurity. He would be a bit more flirtatious in the hopes that it could make you feel better.

Ten: He’s another one that I see being more angry at himself than at you when you told him that you weren’t feeling great about yourself. He would ask you what specifically you felt insecure about, and would have you list them off. Once you did, he would leave little kisses all over those areas and he would tell them what he loves about them. This would definitely become a nightly ritual with the two of you. Even if he wasn’t there, he would still call you no matter what time, and would go through the whole process as usual.

Jaehyun: He’d be very similar to Ten and Taeyong in that he’d blame himself for you feeling this way. He would feel like he hadn’t really proven to you that he genuinely cared about you no matter what. He would immediately take you into his arms and continue to tell you how beautiful you are to him. He would have you try to list out things that you liked about yourself as much as he could to try and get you to start changing your thinking. If you didn’t think he could get softer and more supportive, just you wait.

Sicheng: To be honest, he wouldn’t really be sure what to do in this situation at first. He isn’t really one to use words, but in this situation, he would suck it up and would verbally list out all the things that he loves about you. He would do his best to make you feel more comfortable, and would subtly be more affectionate towards you in the coming days. He’d silently do his best to make sure you were taking care of yourself if you were trying to lose/gain weight. It wouldn’t be noticeable at first, but his efforts would definitely show.

Jungwoo: When he discovered you were feeling like this, his soft heart would absolutely be crushed. He is very soft spoken, so I can imagine that he would bring you close and whisper that he loves you in your ear, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. He’d be like many of the others in that he would be more attentive over the next while. He would do his best to make you feel loved and comfortable, increasing his skinship little by little. He would squish his cheeks on yours and give you more soft forehead kisses to let you know he loved you.

Lucas: Everyone makes him out to be a huge greasy flirt, but the reality is that he’s just a tol softie. This would be one of those moments that this would really be obvious. He would do his best not to show it, but he would clearly be upset that you did not love yourself as much as he loved you. He would bring you close to his chest, not planning to let go at all any time soon. He would definitely shed a tear or two but would deny it. There is no doubt that you would hear endless compliments and words of affection from him every moment he spent with you.

Mark: He, like a few of the others, would be very confused. He stares at you all the time with the most intense heart eyes. How could you not see how wonderful he thought you were. He would secretly write a little freestyle rap for you, even going so far as to write it down and decorate it as a little note for you to keep. Whenever you started to feel insecure, he would make sure that you had the note with you to remind you that he loved you. Plus, he would never turn down the chance to perform it for you if you wanted.

[katsjoyful]

On the battlefields of great wars many young healthy people may get only a small cut in one of their main arteries or veins. It's not a matter of some heinous infection, nor deadly disease. There's no mangling of limbs, no catastrophic event that we would imagine. There's only one small cut and you'll see their life flow out with every drop of blood that pours forth from that small and non-infected wound. THE LOSS OF BLOOD IS THEIR LOSS OF LIFE. Such is our Father's Answer to me this morning. MANY allow the Life of God to ebb away, without a thought of coming to The Redeemer for true Cleansing! I cry and grieve in real heartbrokenness over the MANY who DAILY fall away, leaving HIS side! Part of me became overwhelmingly bewildered. It's astonishing! Precious people. Blood Bought people. A people who have known the Glory of The Holy One! Jesus Answered, "From that time many of His disciples went back, and walked with Him no more." -John 6:66 IT IS THE SAME THIS DAY! The Precious BLOOD of Jesus Christ is NOT applied upon the hearts of His own people! His Life's Blood, is considered to be a "TOO HARD OF A SAYING!" They leave HIMSELF because they believe LIES about our constant NEED for His Blood to be active in our lives! THEY LEAVE HIM BECAUSE THEY NO LONGER RECOGNIZE THE VITALITY OF HIS BLOOD! -JESUS SAYS SO! IT IS THIS SIMPLE! I've gone before Him day by day. Still bewildered, and feeling my own spirit reeling under this perplexity, I ask Jesus again, "How can this thing be?" He took me into His Spirit, within the Veil of The Eternal Spiritual World. "What do you see My daughter?" I see precious lambs and little, young sheep. They're feeding upon green pastures and growing fast. "What do you see My daughter?" I see the leaves have turned brown now. The grass too. I don't see any water anywhere. "What do you see My daughter?" I see You Lord Jesus! I see You with Your Arms opened wide! I see tears in Your Eyes Lord Jesus! I see multitudes and multiple-multitudes running in the wrong direction away from You! Why don't they see You? They all look so famished. They look like skulls and bones! I looked again through my physical eyes this time. They still looked like sweet, fattened sheep and lambs. I looked up at Jesus. With the eyes of my heart again, and again, they looked dying carcasses! Jesus Answered me. "Have I not chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil? I continue to have a remnant people of My twelve tribes. Of those, there are betrayers. Many souls follow those who have betrayed Me for filthy lucre and ill-gotten gains. Many people that I have invested much in, weary themselves because they desire to follow Judases and follow the crowds. Instead of coming closer and restoring the broken Fellowship between US, they use the Gifts that I entrusted to them for their own pursuits. LIFE IS IN THE BLOOD! To inquire of Me and to keep coming to Me, they would see the blood that I haven't cleansed. Instead, they run to and fro. They run looking for a Word. They run away from Me looking for another. They busy themselves exhaustively looking where I Am not! TELL THEM, LIFE IS IN THE BLOOD! Within each individual life, Restoration can come in a split second of time! Having Fellowship with our Heavenly Father is EVERYTHING! To inquire of Me, to come to Me, and to keep coming unto Me, I would wash them and every barrier of broken Fellowship can be Restored!" It is this simple My daughter! One by one, each had a SPECIFIC WOUND. It's like a cut to a major blood vessel. Each precious life EXCHANGED something or someone else, to fill those voids of where personal Fellowship with God is lacking. It's Fellowship that only comes through contriteness and through My Blood for the Remission of sins." In many, many lives, God's own people are experiencing confrontations where holy miracles and Kingdom Norms should manifest. Instead, devils remain within the tortured and possess souls. The sickly wax worse. The unredeemed pass by and move on to other spiritualities. God said, "My people EXCUSE these Divine Appointments has happenstance. The cisterns that they draw from hold no Living Waters. LIFE IS IN THE BLOOD! The RANSOMED are by The BLOOD!" God Said that for ALL GENERATIONS It must be remembered that Newness of Life comes only through precious shed Blood! The Mark of THE BLOOD is why Jesus died! Only a life that identifies with being IN CHRIST, UPON HIS CROSS, CARRYING HIS PRECIOUS BLOOD UPON THEIR HEARTS, is IN The Light! Being in The Light, is in Fellowship with The Father. We must apply His Blood to the doors of our hearts. It's FULLY OPENHEARTEDNESS that seeks His Precious Blood to be WELCOMED! It's not some sinless-perfectionism, whereby scoffers of His Blood mock against His Truth! It's WHOLEHEARTEDNESS that is complete in His Sight, That's keeping HIS PRECIOUS BLOOD OF THE CROSS ALIVE IN WORSHIP IN OUR HEARTS! THAT rightful focus is on earth, "as It is in Heaven!" His Blood, is our LIFE! His own Spirit is that "Perfection" that He Speaks of! It's His Spirit AND Blood AND Word- WHOLEHEARTEDLY REVERENCED IN TRUTH! MOST of His own people EXCUSE AWAY His Blood! They presume that they were Cleansed once, and that's enough! They assume that precious like Faith means some confidence that His Blood is Speaking over them, just because they believe that God exists. If our lives are right within our Father's Sight, we have Fellowship with Himself! His Own Spirit Bearing Witness within our Spirit, and His Holy Voice Communing within us, is HIS EVIDENCE that His Blood Covering us! The only Thing that saves us is The Blood of The Lamb! We must learn to live under His Covering and to not go out from It! For our life depends on staying hidden in the center of His perfect holy will for our lives. "TELL THEM! LIFE IS IN THE BLOOD!"