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olderthannetfic · 3 years ago

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Ah, I do see your points, anon. I'm not going to post all your asks publicly because if you really feel that unsafe, it's probably best not to have a bigass chunk of your text for people to analyze and try to guess your identity from. I think one of the best points you made is about how close to home it hits when the non-fave is not only your fave but is similar to you in some way like demographic. You're not wrong for having those emotions. I do wonder if they make it hard to see how some other people feel similarly embattled on other axes.

TBH, I think one of the big problems here is that the large aggregate patterns you're talking about are racist, but most individual fics and fans are not really the problem. It's hard to know how to talk about this or who to tell to "fix" it when we're looking at free, hobbyist art.

A lot of people's tastes are certainly formed by shitty society, but once they're formed, they don't change fast if at all. Asking someone to rewrite their libido is a big ask, yet tumblr does it all the time as though it's as simple as snapping your fingers.

This leaves me with the sense that a lot of tumblr is... like... the political lesbians of porn fic or something: desire is not real, only choosing based on logic and politics. Or maybe people are so asexual that they just don't understand the lizard brain's "YES!" at some porn things and complete indifference to others?

I don't think it's great if great swaths of people feel like bottom!Nicky is super hot and top!Nicky fundamentally isn't, but I also don't think they can necessarily just turn it off like flipping a switch.

(If someone reading this doesn't like their current tastes and wants to attempt to alter them, I do think it's possible. What you should do is line up a large slate of media that prominently features characters of the ethnicity or whatever that you don't find hot/interesting. These should be leads whose emotional development drives the plot and is supposed to be central to the audience's enjoyment of the media. Watch/read/etc. this media all the time. All. The. Time. Try out many pieces because you won't like every character or every show, and we're looking for genuine enjoyment, not the fandom equivalent of a pity fuck. Spend enough time on this, and your unconscious sense of who's hot and interesting will eventually shift somewhat. This is a project you should expect to take a few years.)

But I digress.

The one tweet thing is a very toxic pattern. If TOG fandom is doing that, guys, please try to be more conscious of holding the actors of color to a higher standard (or the women or whomever). I know this often comes from a place of paying more attention to our own and wanting to set a good standard, but the effect is that minorities can't fuck up ever while white dudes get infinite passes.

Okay, on to the fic thing... Gotta say, my instant reaction to that description is "Ooh!"--as it would be for the same scenario with the characters reversed. (Ships who start out trying to kill each other are my favorite! x1000 if they're resurrecting style immortals and they literally do.) I can see how it would feel like slamming into a brick wall if you aren't kinky in just the right way and you didn't know it was coming though.

Part of why I react so strongly to a lot of discourse that runs along these lines is that I am a naturally extremely kinky person. It's not so much about what I do (which as a deeply lazy person in a long distance relationship is essentially nothing), but it's absolutely how I'm wired.

And I can tell you that my quotidian experience in fandom is sharing something I don't even realize is a big deal only to have someone I like, respect, and trust react in horror and tell me that it's triggering and awful and should not be allowed in fandom spaces because it makes "people" unsafe. It's such an instant, kneejerk reaction they don't even realize I was sharing it because it spoke to the very core of me. Lesson learned, friend. Lesson learned.

That sounds a bit off topic, I know, but bear with me: The point of that anecdote is that it's pretty common for me to get people trying to raise my awareness of things I have already thought deeply about while denying my essential humanity and not even realizing. As a kinky person who likes to make my fave the top (and generally a conflicted sadist), this constant request to explain and justify is exhausting.

I doubt most of the top!Joe fans have this precise problem simply because people who make their fave the top are much less common in fandom than people who make their fave the bottom, but I see a similar pattern with fans who are just fundamentally wired for rape fantasies (one of the most common fantasies that exists) vs. fans who just don't get rape fantasies at all. Or substitute your BDSM/kinky/messed up fantasy trope of choice. Covertly radical feminist attitudes towards kink and power are on the rise in fandom, and as a naturally kinky person, boy do I notice it!

I know that it feels like crucial activism to share these insights about why the ratio of top!Joe is hurtful, and the pain you feel is real. But it's also the case that it's a big ask to want people to listen. (Not me. Obviously, I routinely choose to engage with discourse. I mean overall.) The reason for that is that you're only seeing a fraction of what they do or who they are, and you don't know how many previous people they've listened to how many previous times. It's a very different situation from someone whose job is making some major TV series or movie or something. That person does, in my opinion, owe you some amount of listening.

Now, I'm not saying no top Joe fan was ever a jerk. I'll bet they were. There's a tendency to be rude and to publicly air your schadenfreude when you feel like everyone has been yelling at you. What I am saying is that a lot of the problem here boils down to conflicting needs, and that means there isn't a good solution. It's a situation where people are genuinely hurt, but I don't necessarily agree that other people have harmed them.

I like that you did an actual count of the explicit fics, btw. It's good to look at the real numbers. I see too little of that in these situations. My off the cuff reaction is that 2/3 to 1/3 is not a bad ratio at all compared to many fandoms, but yeah, it definitely shows a strong trend, and that can be painful. (I have a fandom where I think there's maybe like 1 bottom so-and-so fic in the entire zine era fandom. One. It's pretty extreme.)

I guess my thinking here overall is: What is the practical solution? What are we hoping to gain? What is reasonable to ask of people?

And it can't be "Well, if they would just listen..." That's just a sneaky way of saying "If you haven't done it my way, it's because you haven't listened to me yet."

So the question I would ask of people is this:

What does a non-racist fic where Joe tops look like?

What does a non-racist sex pollen, dubcon, or even noncon fic where Joe tops look like?

And if you say the latter is impossible... well... sadists exist everywhere in the world. So do doms. So do people who prefer to top in a purely physical sense. People with rape fantasies where they're the rapist exist (people who are not actually rapists, I mean). None of this is restricted to any one group. We can't categorically say fic like that about Joe is coming from a place of racism without denying the fundamental humanity of kinky MENA people who'd want to make Joe like themselves or like their ideal partner. (Yes, I agree this won't be the majority of fic writers writing top!Joe, but this is a place to start for figuring out what the better version would look like.)

IDK, maybe you're that kinkster yourself, but your asks gave me the vibe that you don't really get the drive towards those darker kinds of fics and what might be motivating it besides stereotypes and shittiness.

If we can answer these kinds of questions, we can better critique the way people write what they write without telling them all of their taste is bad and they should just stop writing. Even if we think the latter is true, it isn't going to get us anywhere. Figuring out how to make Joe more multidimensional in the fic they already want to write or finding very specific wording that should be avoided might actually work.

Beyond that, the actions I think are productive would be running prompt fests, exchanges, or other events for bottom!Joe or for top!Joe where he's the main character and the fics are required to be from his POV. Themed collections and recs lists are great. (I've seen a bit of this going around in TOG fandom in the past, and that's an excellent approach! Keep it up!) Positive actions tend to work better here. Make more of what you want. Promote what you want to see.

I don't mean this in some fluffy magical thinking way: you aren't going to change that ratio radically just by the power of positivity. But I've seen this kind of thing play out in many, many fandoms, and going after the people who write what you don't like, even in a well-intentioned effort to educate and even in a polite, kind way doesn't do much. A few people feel guilty. A few feel defensive. A lot ignore you. The overall fic doesn't change. It's not a good use of your limited time and energy.

I'm off to look up that fic to see what I think of it in practice, but I'm going to post this before tumblr manages to eat it.

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the-hopeless-haze · 3 years ago

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Oh, My Precious Whore

A/N: didn’t really think I’d ever be posting fic on here again… but I am tired and need a distraction so… have this as a treat

Pairing: Claire Underwood x f!reader, implied Duncan Shepherd x f!reader

CW: derogatory pet names, implied smut (will not occur in full until the next part)

Description: idk this is just pure filth bc there’s a severe lack of f!reader fic and… Robin Wright is hot af. Also had to throw in some Duncan in there bc I love Cody Fern

Maybe you should feel worse right now about what you’re doing, but you don’t.

You, at the very least, should feel scared. The Underwoods, or well, Underwood... she was a powerful woman and if you stepped a millimeter out of place your life was likely in danger. Or so they said. Your in-laws were wary of her, you know, but she was wary of them, too. You think. She’s a difficult woman to read.

The rumors concerning the crimes her late husband supposedly committed are lengthy and convoluted, but you suspect they hold some truth to them. Most rumors usually aren’t based totally in fiction. Her husband was truly a ruthless motherfucker. Claire... Claire doesn’t seem to be ruthless. Nor does she seem to be what you would describe as a motherfucker.

No, she’s a cold hearted bitch. A bitter, sociopathic cunt.

But you never wanted what was good for you.

Sometimes, you swear you love Duncan and you wish it was easier to convince yourself. He a good husband, all things considered. Perhaps a little too focused on work, but... he treats you well to make up for it. He is loyal to a fault, if anyone ever was. You met him through a friend, and though it makes you feel guilty you used him in a vain attempt to get closer to Annette.

But Annette didn’t swing your way, as she told you in not so many words. Or, rather, she said, “Just be a good pet and marry my son. You on his arm will do well for everyone all around. Your dalliances on the side are no one’s business as long as you keep them secret enough that not even Duncan finds out.”

So you agreed, and accepted his proposal you figured she no doubt hounded him into. It’s not so much that you don’t like men, you do, and Duncan is such an attractive man, and he’s a thorough lover... it’s just you suppose you have a preference for women. Older women. You used to joke in high school that you wanted to be a high-end escort for rich older women getting away from their CEO husbands for the weekend.

But your parents would have never approved of that plan. So you went to law school instead. Which was fine. You make decent money without Duncan, but with him you’re somewhat of a young, hot power couple. You’re not really interested in policy the way his family is - you just like ingratiating yourself amongst these people with influence. You get off on brushing shoulders with the powerful. Parties don’t mean much to you. Everyone is truly an evil son of a bitch, no matter what they say when the cameras are on. No one cares about progress, not unless it’s self-serving.

The first time you met Claire, you thought you might die. She barely gave Duncan a second glance but you? She stood and chatted with you about your latest case your firm had taken - how she knew about it among all the other things on her mind, you don’t know - but it was a pleasant conversation, all things considered. You know her and Annette used to be close. You wonder how much Claire does know about you.

You know you can’t trust her. At all.

But after that incident, Duncan grinned and shook his head. “Wouldn’t want to give credence to those rumors. She might have it out for you.”

“Rumors?” You asked, panicking already. Did he know?

“That Claire is a lesbian. It’s been floating around some circles, that that’s why she wasn’t truly upset at her husband’s death, that that’s why she’s pushing so hard for female rights. It’s interesting. It is the first time I met her, but having done so it wouldn’t entirely surprise me.”

You can tell. That woman probably isn’t a lesbian, or if she is, she’s very good at utilizing her charm to make it seem as though she’s not. If anything, you’d peg her as asexual. She uses sex as a weapon. Fair enough. You’ve seen even weaker women feel the need to use it.

You wonder if she’s ever had sex purely for herself and not for manipulation purposes.

You wonder if she could even do that. You reckon you don’t really care if you found out the hard way.

It’s a few weeks later that you receive a message stating the President required your audience. And you know you should tell Annette, or Duncan at the very least, but you don’t. You know you shouldn’t show up at all. But Annette said to keep your dalliances secret. So secret they will stay.

“How loyal are you to the Shepherds?” Claire asks when you arrive. Straight to the point. Good.

“As loyal as I have to appear,” you tell her.

Claire smiles a little. “Why did you marry Duncan? He doesn’t seem quite your type.”

“And what do you presume my type is?”

“Perhaps more feminine. Older.”

“Mm. And what is your type, Ms President?”

“Why did you marry him? Did Annette threaten to out you?” she repeats.

“Not in so many words,” you say.

“Hmm. Interesting. He has no idea, I presume?”

“Why did you call me here?” you ask, your anxiety getting the better of you.

“I need information on the Shepherds. And I believe I have something you’d want in return.”

Your head starts spinning, but no, spinning is an understatement. It’s fucking doing somersaults. You cannot believe what she’s proposing.

“You want to prostitute yourself to me for information?”

And Claire does the last thing you ever expected the bitch to do. She walks across the room and slaps you across the face. Hard enough to sting, but not as hard as you bet she could. You feel the cold metal of her wedding ring press against your cheek as she grabs your chin, her cold blue eyes piercing through to your soul. “Don’t you dare fucking accuse the president of the United States of debasement, and don’t ever assume you have the upper hand.”

“Claire—“

“Are we on first name basis, slut?” she asks, her hand slithering down to your throat. Holy shit, you think. This bitch might actually fucking kill me. You think you’d care more if this wasn’t possibly the hottest thing that ever happened to you. “I didn’t think so. Now. What are your loyalties? Who are you closest to?”

“Duncan, obviously. Annette lets her guard down around me because she likes that I think she’s hot, but she still doesn’t like me. Bill and I don’t get along.”

“Interesting. How much does Duncan know?”

“I know more than Duncan.”

“Really, now? Are you just saying that? Because if you don’t prove to be useful...”

“What? You’ll kill me?”

Claire laughs. “No, you’re much more fun to me alive. But tell me… do you know where Duncan came from?”

“I mean, I truly don’t know how Annette’s cunt could birth anything, given how much of a bitch she is, but…”

Claire smiles. “Yes. Much more fun alive. Duncan is not her child.”

“Well, that’s a relief I don’t have any chance of keeping the Shepherd bloodline alive,” you snicker. “Where did he come from, then?”

“I’ll tell you… in time. But you have to tell him, too. In front of Annette and Bill. I want them all to know.”

“They’ll skin me alive if they knew I was here.”

“Do you want to fuck me or not? These are my terms.”

“So that is why I’m here?”

She only smirks at you, the wrinkles around her blue eyes crinkling as she does. “Your attraction to me is far more interesting than... well, men are pigs, right? I’m sure you are well aware. But you, you look at me like you want to fuck me, sure, but you also know your place. You respect me, even if you try to talk back. Men don’t know any better.”

“Have you ever slept with a woman before?”

She only smiles. “Does it matter?”

“Just wanted to know if there was credence to the rumors.”

“Rumors? You’re quite bold. I’m the one with my hand...wrapped around your throat.”

“It’d be pretty messy for you if you killed me right now,” you retort, wincing and rubbing your legs together as she increases the pressure on your neck.

“You’ll learn not to talk back, whore. To think you’re a married woman...”

“Yeah? Did you hold your marriage sacrosanct?”

There’s that smile again. She’s beautiful, ethereal, but there’s something so inhumane about the way her lips move upward to smirk at you. Maybe you should learn to shut your mouth, but you always were a brat. Besides, it’s more fun this way.

“I did.”

“Liar,” you accuse, smirking at her as you do, and she lets go of your throat and before you can miss the feeling too much she slaps your face again, the right cheek this time, much harder than the first time. You let out a startled, strangled moan on impulse, stumbling back a little against the wall.

“Oh, did that hurt?” she coos at you condescendingly, fixing a piece of your hair that fell out of place as you stand back up, pressing your back flat against the wall for stability. Claire crosses her arms and stands directly in front of you.

“I can take it. I can take more than that,” you say boldly.

“Oh? What else do you like, slut?”

“You name it, I’m game.”

“Anything? Handcuffs? Whips? Knives?”

You nod at everything she comes up with. Jesus, you would let this woman carve out your heart if she wanted it.

“If I make you bleed?”

“Better.”

“Interesting. Does Duncan play these little games with you?”

You laugh. “No.”

“You only want a woman to do these things to you?”

“Precisely. Are you kinky, Madam President?”

“Whatever my partner requires... I make certain I provide.”

“But what do you want?”

“I’m a hard woman to please.”

“Oh. Is that the kind way of saying Frank wasn’t good in bed?” you ask, feigning sympathy. She only smirks again. “I’m surprised you didn’t slap me for that. He must have really been awful.”

“You think you could do better?”

“Women do everything better,” you laugh, earning perhaps the only genuine smile you’ve gotten from this woman the whole time. “That’s why I wanted to know if you’ve been with a woman...”

“No. But I’ve thought about it. Never had a woman as interested as you.”

“I find that very hard to believe. Maybe you just never noticed. What gave it away?” You’re aching for her to touch you again, give you anything, even pain, but she stands still in front of you.

“I can just tell. Besides, I was interested to meet you. You’re the Shepherd’s weak link. I knew Annette didn’t vet you carefully enough.”

“Are you saying me being gay is an issue?”

“Are you so naive to think it wouldn’t be, given the state of this country?” she retorts. “But that’s not all. I can tell you don’t like them. I could tell you were easy... on more than one account.”

You roll your eyes. “I fucking hate Bill. I mean it’s awful to say, he’s not doing well physically, but he’s just made life a living hell for me.”

“Why?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

“I don’t know. Maybe he hates gay people. Maybe he hates women. Both. Don’t know.”

“So everyone knows but Duncan? Funny how he’s kept out of all the good family secrets that concern him.”

You sigh. “See, sexuality’s a funny thing. I like Duncan. I do. And sometimes sex with him is good if not great. He’s a good partner. But I just prefer women.”

“Must be nice to have it figured out. Your generation did have it easier.”

You look at her questioningly. You never thought someone like her was human enough to struggle with such a thing, but perhaps that’s an unfair assessment.

Or she’s playing you.

Still. She’d have to be quite a good player - not that you should underestimate her skill - to talk about something as personal as her struggles with sexuality. Straight people just don’t get it. Would she really be this easily well versed if it was a game?

“There’s still a long ways to go,” you say.

“I intend to rectify that.”

“Of course you do.”

Her eyes narrow at you and she tilts her head. “Do you think I should be doing better?”

“Yeah. Come out, for starters.”

“Says the woman in a sham marriage.”

“It’s not a sham. I love Duncan,” you protest.

“Then why are you here, selling out his family just for a chance to fuck me? You’re not much better than I am.”

“I don’t think I’ve told you anything yet. Besides. It’s not his real family… as you say.”

“No. You haven’t told me anything I didn’t already know. But I haven’t fucked you yet either, have I?”

“Touché.”

“Come over here,” she beckons, leaning against the desk and once again it strikes you where you are - the fucking Oval Office. Are you seriously going to have sex in the Oval Office? Conservatives would be disgusted by this (although it wouldn’t be the first time this office was defiled). “Don’t look so scared now. You can’t back out at this point.”

You nod, trying not to look as nervous as you feel and walk the few steps over to her, your legs inches from hers. God, you’re practically dying from the anticipation alone.

“Does Duncan ever tell you how beautiful you are?” She asks. You’re absolutely shellshocked. There’s no trace of sarcasm in her voice.

“Sometimes,” you murmur.

“Just like men to not appreciate what they have.”

“Mm. Frank didn’t appreciate you, Claire? Didn’t make you feel good? I would. If you were my wife I’d make you come every fucking day,” you say, and boldly you decide to punctuate that statement by pressing your lips to hers.

Mistake. Or maybe not, you don’t know.

Her hands tangle in your hair and you feel her stand up, press against you firmly before backing you into the desk, pushing you onto it until your back is flat on the wood, and she’s hovering over you, her lips ghosting yours.

“I’m a hard woman to please,” she reiterates and you realize she never fucking lost her breath while you feel like the wind was knocked out of you. “I’m ambivalent about attention in general. But look at you, whore. You crave it, don’t you? Just want someone to tell you that you’re a good girl... oh, look at you squeeze your thighs together. Are you wet for me, slut?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” You ask, spreading your legs slightly for her.

She shakes her head, her straight platinum locks shifting as she does so, brushing against your face. “See? You’re not a good girl. You’re a dirty filthy whore and you just don’t know when to shut that whore mouth or close your fucking legs.”

You stay silent - you’re not sure what to do now. Do you antagonize her, push her further, see if it will rile her up again? Or do you try and kiss her again?

Claire has other ideas. “Beg,” she hisses in your ear. “Get down on your knees and beg for me.”

—- and I am evil and ending it there! Plz let me know if I should continue this!

#claire underwood #Claire Underwood x reader #duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd x you #Claire Underwood x you #duncan shepherd x reader #house of cards #hoc #wlw smut #wlw fic #robin wright

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bi-rising · 4 years ago

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I'm a bi woman in a relationship with a bisexual man who I intend to stay with however I've never been in a relationship with a woman, I always feel like there's something missing, I'm aware this is probably just internalised biphobia but I don't know what to do about it

alright, so this seems to have several layers to it, so i’m going to try to address a few!

first of all, the most important thing i would advise you to do is talk to your partner. it’s easy to be in online spaces like tumblr and twitter and believe that any failings in a relationship are because of gender or sexual orientation. that may be your first reaction, even--to see your relationship and go “well it’s not exactly what i want so it must be because i’ve never been with women” and sure! that could be the case. but there are so many areas of your life that a relationship effects.

if you do intend to stay with him, you love him, etc etc, perhaps take a look at your relationship. talk to him about it. tell him that you’re feeling unsure, that you think something isn’t quite right. maybe you had a fight you never resolved; maybe you’re feeling insecure about something and need some comfort and just don’t know how to recognize or express that to him. always always always default to communication first in a relationship. you could very well end up fixing something you didn’t know was wrong and therefore get rid of that “missing” feeling. plus! because he’s bisexual too, i’m sure he’ll have a great understanding of what you’re going through!

secondly, i talked about this ask with some of my friends to try to know how best to respond to help you. one of them mentioned that it might be helpful to look into lesbian resources (i’m sorry, i don’t have any of those, or i would link them for you), as that “missing” feeling sometimes pops up for lesbians that have dated men. don’t take this as me telling you that you aren’t bi! that’s definitely not what i’m saying, and you know yourself better than anyone else. but it might be helpful to look into it to see how others with SGA have handled their situations and experiences.

lastly, if it is the case of internalized biphobia, then i completely understand. i’ve only ever been in one relationship--a long distance, six month stint with another girl. we’ve still never had the chance to meet in person, though we are still good friends even though we’re exes now. between that and the fact that i’ve never been with guys either, i know that lack of experience can be extremely tough to deal with. it makes you feel like you don’t actually know--like somehow, you’re tricking yourself as well as everyone you’ve come out to. but i want you to know that this is not the case. your lack of experience does NOT make you any less bi. your lack of experience means absolutely nothing in terms of your orientation. and this goes for every orientation. lesbian but never been with a girl? still lesbian. gay but never been with a guy? still gay. so bisexual, but only been with one sex? yep, you’re still bisexual.

here are a few resources i do have to help you out if it is internalized biphobia. note that most of these do contain the q slur, so please proceed with caution!

Internalized biphobia is making dating seem impossible

Staying Seen: Being Bi in Relationships with Straight People

6 Ways to Deal with Internalized Biphobia

5 Ways to Get Rid of Internalized Biphobia (youtube video)

i hope these will help you!! and i wish you the best of luck with your relationship!

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littlemisskookie · 5 years ago

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Loveless: Chapter 5

Loveless: Index Ship: Reader | OT7 Description: Spy/Men in Black!AU | You worked at an institution that dealt with aliens- aliens that were the fictional creatures we were told were from fairy tales. The job entailed love only for it, and nothing else. That’d all change when a mission goes wrong. Warnings: Smut!! Finally!, Sub/Dom Themes, Choking, Hair Pulling, Rough Sex, Oral, Fingering, Spanking, Pussy Spanking, Slapping, Dirty Talk, Sir!Kink, Degrading Names, Intercourse, Comedy Word Count: 5,652

"Dang, now I wish that I was the one who waited in the car."

"Taehyung did, too, you idiot. You don't see him getting laid, now do you?"

"Guys I'm right here."

You opened your eyes, blinking as you tried to get used to the light. You were faintly aware of the body you were pressed against you, your form hugging Namjoon's, who was still in a deep sleep, soft snores escaping his parted lips. Surrounding your bed were six men.

Your vision cleared, seeing a few of them scruffed up, with bandages or wounds, but nevertheless alive.

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, jumping from Namjoon's side to hug the men, wrapping your arms around each as you cradled their faces and examined their wounds, a rush of relief and happiness filling you. "I'm so glad you're ok! I was so worried and I tried to convince Agent B and V to go back because I didn't want to abandon you and I didn't know if you were alive and I- fuck, I'm just really relieved."

You wrapped your arms tightly around Jungkook at that moment, turning back to examine his face. "How's the leg?" you question, your thumb brushing over his busted lip. It wasn't much, just a bit of a cut, and he's had worse, but you couldn't help but fret.

Jungkook simply chuckled. "Good as new. Jin snuck me into one of the medical centers and got it taken care of."

You should've figured. Bullets were nothing for someone as brilliant as Jin, and you had no doubt he'd be able to fix all the scrapes and cuts you eight had gotten once you settle in.

Namjoon coughed from behind you, seemingly awake from when you had gotten up. "Er, Y/N, I'm sorry to tell you this but I think you ought to get back into the covers."

"What?" You look down, realizing you're still in the panties and shirt you had slept in the night before. You hadn't thought of it last night, simply grabbing clothes that were prepared in the drawers, and you didn't even think of it when you went to Namjoon's room or talked to Taehyung, seeing as it was dark and everyone was too tired to realize.

You dive back under the covers, your face red, slowly realizing what the conversation earlier was about. "Uh, that wasn't what it looked like. Nothing happened last night."

"Sure about that? I know Agent B here can be quite the perv when he feels like it," Hoseok comments, hitting Namjoon lightly on the shoulder.

Namjoon scowls, red-faced as well. "Uh-huh, sure. Seriously, she just couldn't sleep last night, so-"

"You kept her occupied?" Jimin snickered.

"Helped tire her out?" Jungkook joined in.

"No, trust me, nothing happened. I know from my mission with Agent B in Columbia that he doesn't exactly know how to keep quiet," Taehyung assures everyone.

"As if you were any better in Australia!"

"Look, I had a crush on Ariel when I was younger. What else was I supposed to do when I was face to face with a mermaid? Not fulfill my fifth-grade fantasies?"

"You jacked off to The Little Mermaid when you were ten?" Yoongi questioned.

"Actually now that I think about it, it was Ursala. But I didn't come across any squid ladies in Australia," Taehyung corrected himself. "And no, I didn't jack off to a Disney movie!"

"And all this time I thought Jimin was the one with the tentacle fetish," you whisper to yourself.

"I do not have a tentacle fetish!" Jimin fired back.

"I saw the anime girl body pillow, Jimin. I know you watched tentacle porn."

"Everyone's watched it! It's just one of those things you look at out of curiosity. Kind of like 'Why do people get turned on by this?' the same way you wonder how someone finds feet or pissing sexy. It was a one-time thing and I didn't get a boner from it. Also, you keep Jabami Yumeko out of this!"

"Literally everyone in Kakegurui is gay, idiot," you say, rolling your eyes. "She even wears the lesbian ring."

"What's a lesbian ring?" Jungkook asked.

"If a woman wears a ring on her thumb she's gay."

"I don't think her wearing a thumb ring makes her a lesbian," Jimin cut in.

"Yeah it does, look it up!" You huff, shaking your head. "The whole point of that show is gambling lesbians."

"Man, you guys are weebs," Hoseok grumbles under his breath.

"Whatever, she's hot, ok?" Jimin rolled his eyes.

"You're just saying that because of that one scene where she acts like a cat," Taehyung cuts in.

"Dear god, not you too." Hoseok facepalms.

"That scene was pretty hot. Not that I'm a furry or anything," you admit.

"GUYS!"

Everyone turns to Yoongi, his gaze burning as he glares at everyone. He pulls out a thick stack of paper, tossing it onto the bed. "If everyone here is done talking about the newest 'waifu' or whatever it is you losers call it, I think it'd be best to discuss what we've brought back from the agency. More accurately, stolen."

You pick up the first piece of paper, furrowing your brows. "Yoongi, what are these?"

"Your medical records. AKA test results."

It was a weird sight, seeing eight people sitting on the ground, surrounding a coffee table, paperwork covering every inch of surface area. One might think it was a college study group. But no, each letter contributed to describing the torture and pain you went through during the experimentations, detailing your DNA and comparing past records. It described everything from the new strains caused by whatever had been injected into you to the consistency of your discharge. You had to give it to the EAA bastards- they were thorough.

You were in the middle of wondering when they held a ruler up to your vagina to measure it in centimeters when Namjoon cuts in. "At least we can confirm what had happened that night. It appears here that Jashwi injected her own DNA into Y/N."

"Like her own venom or something? Did she infect her like a vampire?" Jungkook pondered. "Like Twilight?"

"I don't think so." Hoseok shook his head, glowering down at the paper in his hand. "If that were the case she'd be fully changed into one of them. She's still human, but it does appear that she's slowly changing. Or at least a part of her is. Kind of like combining if that makes sense?"

"Is that why she doesn't seem to be getting any better?" Jin held up a particular document, though you didn't bother trying to strain your eyes to read the tiny print from a distance. "According to these, they tried to revert her and cure her with anything they had. She didn't seem to benefit from any nutriment, from food to medicine."

"Maybe it's because they're looking at it from a human perspective," Yoongi wondered aloud. "You said before she was changing, or at least a part of her has. What if what changed, or at least one of the things, was what she fed on?"

"Well, she doesn't seem to feed on food. So the bright side at least is that we have more rations for ourselves," Jin shrugged.

You socked him in the arm. "Gee, that's one way to look at it, asshole."

"What? We've got to be optimistic!"

"We have to remember everything Jashwi told us about her people. About the Anancites," Namjoon hums. "Does anyone remember any information that might be useful?"

"She's a scientist who used to rule her planet apparently. And her boyband was called a rapture," Taehyung offered. "Oh, and they shared a telepathic bond. Apparently."

"They're able to manipulate elements and have powers. Jashwi possessed the power of water, so if you're going to get any superpowers, Y/N, it'll probably be that." Jimin smiled at the thought. "Hey, you'll be like an avatar!"

"I don't think I have the strength in me to even walk down the block, much less bend water," you tell him truthfully.

"Anything on feeding?" Namjoon questioned.

"She said it was mutually beneficial for both parties. So I doubt it'd be anything like cannibalism or sucking blood. We can rule vampire out," Hoseok offered.

"What if we look through the documents and see if they list any similarities between the newly injected DNA and a species we're familiar with?" you questioned.

"Brilliant!" Namjoon fished through some of them, but it turned out to be Taehyung who found the right sheet of paper.

Taehyung analyzed the information, taking it in as he tried to decipher it. He was an engineer, not a biologist by any means. "Ok, I think this is it. I'll look for what's the most similar. She's definitely not a mermaid, but if she is able to bend water that would be close enough, in my opinion."

"Negative towards any ghosts. That includes poltergeists, ghouls, and banshees. Same for anything of the fairy clans. Rules out gnomes, pixies, elves, dwarves, and whatever tiny freaks you can think of," Jungkook continued, leaning over to examine the paper from behind Taehyung's shoulder.

"Skip to what seems closest, why don't you?" Yoongi inquired.

"Closest seems to be the succubi and incubi. Sirens are close as well." Taehyung's brow furrowed. "But the Anancites didn't look anything like those..."

"I think you've got to look at what seems similar. What do they all share in common?" Hoseok asked.

Silence consumed the room. Everyone thought the same thing, but no one wanted to say it.

"Sex," you say. "It's obvious. The succubi and incubi feed off of sexual energy and having sex with humans. Sirens sing to sailors about love and sex to draw them to kill themselves."

"But none of those species benefit the other when they're feeding." Namjoon wore a puzzled look on his face, as though trying to wrap his head around the idea. "The sex demons feed off the humans and take their energy from them, and sirens eat the dead bodies of the sailors who jumped overboard."

"That's why the Anancite DNA isn't completely similar, perhaps. There are small differences. Besides, sex typically, or at least should be, beneficial for both parties," you offered.

"Wait let me get this straight," Jimin said, pausing. "You're trying to say that instead of feeding off of food or blood, there's a possibility you feed off of... sex?"

Your face turned red. "I mean, this is a whole new species, Agent P. We're lucky it's even something that is... obtainable. Besides, I never said that, but it's a possibility. And a high one, at that. You never know until you try."

There's another moment of silence. At that moment you wanted to die.

"So... one of us will have to have sex with you, is that it?" Hoseok questioned.

"Don't say it like it's going to be a burden!" you snap.

"I don't know, you're pretty bony right now. You'll probably poke one of us in the eye," Yoongi chuckled.

"I'm not going to elbow anyone doing doggy style, you absolute twat," you fired back.

"Wait, so we're seriously going to do this?" Jungkook questioned, his eyes wide as he looked about the room.

"I mean no one's running a train on her or anything. Not yet," Jimin joked. "But from the looks of it... yeah. I doubt we'll just be able to walk out and get her a guy. It'll have to be one of us."

"Why don't we ask her then?" Taehyung looked over to you, and at that moment you realized you had to answer.

"Oh, ok, so... Fuck, it's weird with all of you staring at me!" You made eye contact with each man, their gazes pinned on you. "Look, to put it lightly I wouldn't mind it being anyone. I like all of you equally, as friends and... in an attractive way. I'm not opposed to anyone, so..." You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you buried your face in your hands, embarrassed by your confession.

"Alright... That's good to know," Namjoon said, coughing awkwardly.

"Alright? Dude she said she wanted all of us to nail her!" Jimin whisper joked.

"Not at the same time, idiot!" You tossed some papers over to him but were unable to stay mad at him for long, despite his ribbing.

"You sure that wouldn't be weird for you or anything? Like, sleeping with a coworker?" Jungkook questioned.

"Former coworker. And no, I slept with Jimin," you answered.

"You too?" Taehyung offered a hand, and you high fived him.

"Wait, what the fuck?" Jin questioned, eyes bugging out of his head. "You both slept with Jimin?"

"Technically three," Yoongi offered, raising his hand slightly.

"Wait, who here has slept with Jimin?" Hoseok questioned, having you, Taehyung, and Yoongi raise your hands.

"Guys, can we not reveal my sexual exploits?" Jimin whined, face beet red.

"You deserve it, asshole," you tease, sticking your tongue out.

"Where'd you do it?" Taehyung asked, his eyes glimmering with questions.

"Office, over the desk. You?"

"I was drunk so it was behind the bar. Not bad, though."

"Nice," you offered, nodding as you turned to Yoongi. "And you, Agent Dick?"

"Uh, I don't kiss and tell," Yoongi grunts.

"Thank you!" Jimin lets out a rush of relief, a sigh escaping his lips as he prayed for you and Taehyung to quit oversharing.

"Sure thing, bottom," Yoongi responded.

"He was a bottom for you?" you and Taehyung questioned in unison, shocked.

"Ok, enough about Jimin whoring himself out to everyone in the agency," Hoseok interrupted. "Aren't we supposed to talk about... er... Y/N?"

It was silent again.

"Alright, I'm going to go to my room for a bit because I think this is a decision you guys should make on your own. I have a feeling it'll be even weirder if I'm here, and I know I won't be able to make the decision. Seriously, though, I'm completely cool with whoever, so surprise me or whatever. It's not weird unless we make it weird, right? I'll let you guys decide amongst yourselves. Surprise me!"

You departed, leaving the boys to themselves.

"So... I guess we should ask first if anyone doesn't want to..." Namjoon trailed off.

"Sleep with Y/N?" Yoongi offered bluntly.

"Er- yeah," Namjoon coughed awkwardly. There was no show of hands, and he only sighed. "Guess that doesn't make anything easier. Figured."

"Wouldn't the logical choice be Jimin if they already had sex?" Hoseok questioned. "They already had sex, that would make her more comfortable with it, wouldn't it?"

"Things got a little awkward afterward," Jimin admitted. "We survived, of course, but... Well, my concern is if everyone would be alright with the prospect of something like that? It'd be weird, wouldn't it? A group and two of them are screwing. Seven guys and one girl."

"I think it's a bit too soon to propose a gangbang," Jin admitted. "Besides, I'd like to think most of us will be able to handle ourselves. We're adult men."

"But what if feelings get hurt?" Jimin questioned.

There was a moment of silence.

Taehyung could feel a few eyes on him in particular. He glowered, staring back. "As though any of you are any better. We're all here for a reason, so don't be hypocrites. Besides, I could separate my feelings from helping. There's no guarantee."

"No one said anything about that," Jungkook said, embarrassed. "And we know. We'd all have to separate our feelings. It'd be unfair to Agent Q otherwise."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"What about you, Namjoon?" Jin questioned. "You've known her longest."

Namjoon blushed, his ears turning a bright red. "W-W-Well, I mean, I... Well, what about you? You've been flirting with her and telling her you wanted to nail her for years."

"I'm not denying it," Jin said, raising his hands in defense. "And I'm not going to say no if it's me, either."

"But?" Yoongi inquired.

"But I think there's a few in this group who would... I don't know, be more deserving? That sounds wrong, but you know what I mean. She's not a prize, and we shouldn't attach our own reasons or feelings to this, but there are better options I guess."

"What do you mean by that?" Yoongi pressed on, narrowing his eyes.

Jin sighed, giving up at trying to figure out his words. "I don't know... Wait, why do you want to do this anyway? You bicker with her all the time. You act like you hate her anyway."

"I clearly don't hate her if I'm here. Besides, as much of a dumbass as she can act once or twice, I'm attracted. It's purely biological," Yoongi shrugged.

"Alright, it definitely can't be you," Hoseok said, shaking his head.

Yoongi shrugged again, uncaring. "I'm alright with whatever, same as Agent C. The difference is that I don't think anyone has more right to this 'opportunity' as some of you might think of it to be. The fact is we all are attracted to her and I'm not going to call anyone out but everyone here has feelings or something strong enough to have brought them here in the first place. We'd want to sleep with her regardless. It's only a coincidence this could help. I do think we have to try to separate our feelings, however. Jungkook was right- it's not fair to Y/N. You heard her- she can't pick between any of us. I don't think even sex will change that. We can't pretend like we just want her as a piece of meat either since we all care about her. We aren't dimwitted enough to believe that lie, and neither is she. So we'll take what we can get and keep going along. The most important thing though will be to act civil, regardless of who it is."

"Yoongi's right," Namjoon nodded. "About all of that. No one is more or less deserving. The important thing is to do this without feelings and act civil. Like it's all just business."

Jungkook raised his hand, earning a sigh from Namjoon. Once he had the attention, he coughed, clearing his throat. "We still need to decide who it is, though."

Hoseok sighed, "We're well aware."

"So why don't we just... not pick?"

"What do you mean?" Taehyung questioned, furrowing his brows.

Jungkook pulled out a stack of cards, pulling them out of the box to shuffle them. "Does everyone here know how to play Speed?"

"I've gotta admit, I'm a little surprised you're the one they chose."

Hoseok shrugged, closing the door behind him with his foot. "You won't like the method we used. Trust me when I say it wasn't a vote."

"Oh?" You quirked a brow, interested. "How'd you guys decide?"

"We played cards."

"Let me guess- Agent Z?"

"How'd you know?" Hoseok questioned, truly impressed.

You simply shrugged, "Lucky guess, I suppose."

"I like the robe, by the way," Hoseok said, pointing to the fluffy white robe you adorned. He felt his ears get pink, knowing that you were more than likely wearing nothing underneath.

"Thank you! Provided by the hotel instead of the CIA, though they've got an old lady outfit stored inside the fake plant in the bathroom, so there's that. I'm sure if I spend a bit more time I'll be able to find at least five more prepared disguises. And just so you know I completely intend on stealing all the shit I can in this hotel before we have to skip ahead to the next one."

He nodded understandingly but was only half listening to what you were saying. Typically he was a very good listener, but he was still trying to process what was happening. The fact it was him of all people. Jin had been flirting with you since the beginning of time. You knew Namjoon first, and you had already slept with Jimin. Taehyung had basically been in love with you since the two of you met. Sure, Hoseok was very attracted to you, (and more) but he wasn't familiar with the act of screwing a colleague. He had determined long ago that wouldn't happen between the two of you, yet here he was.

"Sit here," you say, patting the spot next to you on the bed. Hoseok does so, nervous but compliant. You squint your eyes, your hand coming up to hold his face as you analyzed him. He suspected you would kiss him, but instead, you keep staring at him, as though searching.

"What're you doing?" he questioned, confused.

"Reading you."

"What, like a psychic?"

"No, it's just..." You paused, licking your lips before flitting your eyes back to his. "Hoseok, you can do anything you want to me tonight."

He froze. That was not what he was expecting.

"I'm giving you full control," you continue, taking one of his hands in your own before bringing it to the back of your head. He lets his hand rest on the back of your neck for a moment. "I want you to be in charge. I'll do whatever you say, and you can do whatever you want. No restrictions."

"Didn't think you'd be into this kinky stuff," he said nervously, heat rising to his cheeks.

"Didn't think you'd be, either," you say. Before he can analyze or read into your words, your lips are pressed against his. His lids flutter closed, your lips bruising against his with a certain amount of ferocity. He feels himself getting into a rhythm, his hand slowly snaking up your hair. You keen at his touch, moaning into his mouth when he makes a tight fist, yanking at your hair.

His eyes bug out, and he lets go. "Shit, sorry, I-"

"Do it again," you say, returning his hand to your scalp.

"W-What?"

"I meant it when I said I wanted you to take control," you tell him, staring him dead in the eye to show how serious you were.

"Yeah, but I don't want to hurt you, and I respect you and-"

"I know that A. I do. It's because you respect me that I want you to take control. I want you to dominate me. To hurt me," you inform him, sighing at the sight of him frozen at your words. You take a deep breath to explain yourself. "Have you ever felt as though you weren't in control? Like many of the choices in your life weren't really made by you, but for you? Like you're sort of just following others' whims?"

"Yeah," Hoseok admitted, thinking back to his mistakes. His parents dying. Stumbling upon a secret agency. Having his childhood ripped out from under him as he was trained not to feel, but to kill. "I have."

"So wouldn't it feel good to exert a bit of control over one aspect of your life? Even if it's just for a few minutes? Even if it's just over sex?"

What you were saying made sense. "What about you, though?"

You smiled, as though expecting the question. "For me, I put the control in someone else's hands. They get to have the control and I won't have to deal with it. I put myself in the hands of someone I trust."

"You trust me that much?"

"I do," you confirm, a coy smile on your lips. "I meant it when I said you could do whatever you wanted to me. I'll do whatever you say. I want you to take control. To dominate me. To hurt me."

"Fuck, you're a masochist," he hissed, finally getting a firm grip on your hair and tugging it back, making you arch into his touch as you hissed in pain.

"Only if you're a sadist," you responded, your lips returning to his in a searing hiss.

He groaned, flipping over to roll on top of you, continuing to kiss you as he pressed his body against yours. It was messy, a clash of teeth and tongue, and he keened at the feeling of you following his movements, letting him control the movements.

He had sex with women before but never before were they so blunt and open about what they wanted. Typically they just assumed he'd know or communicate small things. He'd have to guess he was doing something right, listening to what little they'd give him.

But you... it was as though those few seconds that were spent staring at him, reading him, were put to good use. It was as though you had read what carnal desires he had suppressed deep down, and unleashing it.

You moved your hands to touch him, but he slapped your hands away, pinning your wrists above your head. "Don't touch me," he growled. A bit of panic spread over him, unused to talking to you, one of his closest friends, in that manner.

Instead, you looked at him in a lustful manner, your eyes glazed as you nodded obediently. "Yes, sir."

Fuck, he felt his dick twitch at that.

He let go of your wrists, and true to your word, you kept them in place. He straddled your hips, slowly undoing the knot on your robe and opening it. He sucked in a breath, seeing you fully naked. The number of times he had jerked off to the thought of you like this, naked beneath him, was stupendously high. He couldn't believe that all of his darkest fantasies were coming true. You, so submissive, so unlike yourself, ready for him to do whatever he wished with you.

"You're beautiful," he whispered beneath his breath, slowly spreading your legs wider as he shuffled between them. You were wet already.

"Didn't take you as the mushy type."

You yelped, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as he swatted your mound, the sound of the harsh slap echoing throughout the room. You attempted to close your legs together, but he kept them spread open with his own, giving you another punishing slap.

"Would you rather I call you a dirty slut?" he questioned between gritted teeth.

From the way you bit your lip, letting the tender flesh roll from between your teeth, he took it as a yes.

He gave you one more firm smack before he started rubbing his hand up and down your folds, gathering your wetness. He hummed, pleased, letting your engorged clit slide between his fingers as he continued to tease you. "I think you like me spanking your pretty pussy. Calling you a slut."

You nodded eagerly, hips bucking up for a bit more friction in contrast to his light touch.

"You'll take what I give you," Hoseok growled, his other hand coming to your lower stomach to pin you down as he inserted a finger, pumping it into you. As expected you gasped, trying to buck your hips again, only to have Hoseok keep you pinned to the bed. "Understood, slut?"

You failed to answer, moaning as he inserted another finger, scissoring you.

Hoseok glared at you, the hand on your stomach reaching up to your throat, squeezing lightly as a warning. "I believe I asked you a question. I expect an answer."

You hummed, and he could feel the vibrations against the palm of his hand. "Yes, sir," you said, compliant once again. "I'll take what you give me."

"Good girl," he said, letting go of your throat. He went down, laying on his stomach as he hitched your thighs over his shoulders, pulling you closer to him. He maintained eye contact with you, his lips making contact with your bud. You gasped at the feeling, eyes rolling back at his movements as his tongue ran through your folds. "Eyes on me," he reminded you, nails digging into your thighs.

He continued, tasting every drop you had to offer, amazed with how good you tasted. Your heels dug into his upper back, trying to draw him impossibly closer. He enjoyed seeing you like this, trying to maintain eye contact despite how you yearned to toss your head back and let your eyes roll to the back of your head. You let out wanton moans with every swipe of his tongue, mewls escaping your lips as he sucked harshly on your clit.

He removed one of his arms from under your legs, inserting two fingers inside of you once more, making a come hither movement. The stimulation of your g-spot with the feeling of his mouth on your clit was becoming too much. Your hands reached down, curling into his hair as you tugged at his scalp similarly to how he did yours.

"Fuck, I'm go-gonna-"

Suddenly it all stopped, Hoseok pulling back from between your legs, watching as your orgasm was ripped from you, dying with each second he didn't spend buried in your head. He watched how desperate you seemed, staring him in the eyes as he licked his fingers of your arousal, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Helplessness was a good look on you, he had to admit. It made his cock twitch in his pants, seeing you like this, knowing it was all because of him.

"I told you before: you take what I give you." He's quicker than you can process, flipping you over on your hands and knees as he gathers your hair in a ponytail, cranking it back as his hands give bruising slaps to both cheeks. "And I also believe I told you not to touch me."

"I'm sorry, sir!" you wailed, the battery continuing as he made sure to redden each cheek, the spanks raining down on you. You were sure you wouldn't be able to even sit down properly tomorrow, each seat you take a reminder of his reprimand. "I won't do it again sir! Fuck, fuck, I'm sorry!"

"I know you are," he said in a soothing voice, rubbing soothing circles in the places where he did the most damage, his voice soft. He gently rolls you over, wiping away some of the tears that had come along with your punishment. "You took it very well. You're such a good girl for me, aren't you?"

"S-Sir, please," you sniffed, enjoying the feeling of his thumb wiping away the tears as you tried to compose yourself.

"What is it?"

"I want you to fuck me."

"Anything for you." He was quick to pull his pants off, with his boxers following closely after. You spread your legs invitingly, a sound of impatience escaping your lips as he teased you, running the head of his cock along your folds. Finally, he slides in, both of you letting out a moan of pleasure. He could feel every ridge of you as you squeezed tightly around him, and you focused on the pleasurable burn of him sliding into you for the first time.

"You're so big," you cooed, your lids fluttering. It had admittedly been a while since you slept with anyone. Partially because of business and partially because of the fact you were kept in a fucking lab.

Hoseok begins to pump himself into you, his grip tight on your thighs as he fucked you with earnest. You wrapped your legs around him, your heels pressing into him as though to drive him deeper into him. He was already impossibly deep, kissing your cervix with every push. It was when he began to stimulate the bundle of nerves that you were really becoming undone.

"Fuck, Hoseok, Hoseok, Hoseok!"

"That's right, scream my name," he grunted, drilling deeper into you. He reached behind, his hand sliding behind your head to yank at your hair once more, a knowing smirk gracing his features as you let out a familiar hiss of pleasure. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be my little slut?"

"Yes, sir, fuck!" You were becoming depraved, mouth gaping open as your eyes rolled back. "Harder, please."

Your wish was his command, and before long his hips slammed into your own, no doubt with a bruising force. Hoseok's hand wrapped around your pretty little throat, squeezing harder than before, restricting airflow.

"Are you gonna cum for me?" he questioned, his other hand toying with your clit as he maintained his pace, brutally abusing your g-spot. It came up to give you a slap across the cheek, his cock twitching inside of you at the sight of you letting him. "Are you gonna cream all over me and get nice and messy for me?"

You nodded eagerly, thighs shaking around him as you tilted your head back, back arching with grace as you came. Hoseok fucked you through it, letting go of your throat. The influx of oxygen only increased the pleasure, the orgasm having been built up from being denied before.

Hoseok now chased his own high, using your body as a toy as he felt himself nearing climax. You simply stared at him with that hazy look in your eye, letting him use you, true to your word.

Let go, Hoseok.

He felt himself spill into you, his breath heavy as he drained himself into you. You took all of it, eyes trained on him as he collapsed beside you.

He looked over to you, his fingertips brushing over your neck. "Damn, you're definitely going to have marks in the morning."

You shrugged. "Let them know I like choking. Who doesn't? I'm pretty sure it's in with the college kids nowadays. Besides, if you think that's bad, you should see what you did to my ass. I won't be able to sit for a week."

"Sorry, was that too much?"

"Not at all," you cooed, toying with the strands of his hair. "It felt good to let go, didn't it?"

"Yeah, it did."

"I'm going to pee, and I suggest you do too. Then round two."

"Yeah... Wait already?"

261 notes · View notes

rising-generations · 5 years ago

Text

Iris. [SDRA2 Sannohashi Oneshot]

read on ao3 here if you please

plot:

and i don't want the world to see me 'cause i don't think that they'd understand when everything's made to be broken i just want you to know who i am.

syobai hashimoto has to fix the biggest mistake he's ever made in his life. mikado sannoji has to deal with what syobai leaves behind when he runs away. it was never supposed to go this far.

syobai-focused sannohashi, set in the "nuclear" AU. more explained inside. featuring trans!mikado and sora/syobai friendship. tw for mentions of suicide attempt in the beginning.

notes:

So to make a long story short, this series takes place after a huge nuclear war decimated half of the human population and fucked up a lot of shit with the environment and people's bodies. Everybody knows shit's fucked. The SDRA2 kids exist in the same universe as the rest of the canon Ultimates, and everyone's around the same age (THH and NDRV3 kids are about 22, SDR2 kids are 23, SDRA2 kids are around 20-21). So everyone's an adult. Don't come for my throat. Don't like it, don't leave a nasty comment, thanks! Bad and stinky comments will be placed inside the bee oven to atone for their sins.

It's not often that Syobai admits this, but this time, he's absolutely, completely, royally, fucked up. Badly. And normally he doesn't care, but this time is so very different. Sitting at a table in a nearly-empty diner at half-past noon is not where he thought he was gonna end up today, but here he is, with his head in his hands, staring down at his phone's lock screen, counting the minutes since Sora sent her "omw" text.

This diner serves whiskey. A lot of places serve liquor now, have since the war tore the world apart and left millions of traumatized people to deal with the aftermath, many of them turning to alcohol to cope. Syobai has been drinking since the ripe old age of ten, so that's not new to him, and the whiskey they have here is strong, and it's tempting.

It's so, so tempting. But if he does that, it won't end very well for him; first of all, Sora would likely -- definitely -- beat his ass into next week if she shows up and finds him drunk. Second, in the state he's currently in emotionally, if he gets drunk, all he's going to do is remember things, and when he remembers things, he ends up waking up on the bathroom floor at 3 AM in a puddle of his own tears with a bottle of pain pills in his hand.

So Syobai won't drink. Not today, anyway. But God damn, does he really want to smoke.

As soon as he starts to get up to go outside (the diner has a no smoking policy, which he thinks is stupid considering the fact that nuclear warfare has done shit to the air they don't even know about yet, but he's not willing to get kicked out and risk a beating by Sora yet again), the universe interferes with his life once more. Sora steps in through the door of the diner.

Well there goes that plan.

She spots him fairly quickly and strides over to the booth in the back corner, sliding into the seat like nothing's changed. Syobai remembers when they'd used to skip class every Wednesday and go down to the diner down the street from Hope's Peak, the one that served all the crazy Western food, and dare each other to eat the craziest shit on the menu as fast as they could without puking or choking. Sora, of course, would win every time, and "claim her victory for all of the lesbians out there."

It's enough to make him smile a little bit. The diner was abandoned when the war started, but they still hang out there sometimes.

"So, you wanna tell me what's wrong with you?"

Sora's voice breaks through his thoughts, and Syobai lifts his head to look at her. She's got her chin in her hand, and her elbow propped on the table.

"Elbows on the table? Not very lady-like," Syobai jokes. With her free hand, Sora flips him off, and he snickers. "I'm kidding, geez. Who says there's anything wrong with me?"

Sora points at the complimentary basket of chips the diner serves with every customer. "There's food on the table, and you haven't eaten it all yet to spite me. Now, I asked you nicely. Don't make me come over there."

Well. Looks like he can't stall his explanation anymore.

He lets out a long, heavy, slow sigh, and laces his fingers together in front of him on the table. Syobai turns his grey-eyed gaze down towards the surface of the table, before forcing himself to look up and meet Sora's eyes.

"I need your help," he says simply. "I fucked up."

"You do that a lot. Elaborate."

"I fucked up really, really bad." Syobai pauses. "With Mikado."

Sora tilts her head. "Last time I asked, you told me the two of you were "just sleeping together casually." Did you lie to me, Syobai?"

Syobai swallows heavily. He can hear his heart beating in his ears.

"Mikado is pregnant," he finally says. The words actually leaving his lips feel like the final blow in a fight, and he's just lost. "With my children."

"... oh." Sora blinks a few times. "So this was an accident, I take it? Whatever happened to high school Syobai Hashimoto who carried five different types of condoms in his wallet at all times just in case he met a hot guy walking home from school?"

"Hey, in my defense, I usually still have condoms." Yes, they're a bit harder to find nowadays, as is almost everything, but up until now, he's always managed to have one on hand for when the two of them start feeling frisky (which tends to happen at least once a day). "To answer your question, though, what happened is Setsuka decided to get hitched."

"The party," Sora gasps, remembering suddenly. "Oh, my God. So you two did fuck in the bathroom! Emma owes me five thousand yen."

"Yes, we did do that," Syobai mumbles. It's not totally his fault, he thinks. It's not like Mikado wasn't grinding on him half the night, begging him to fuck him as hard as he could against the wall. It's no doubt the best sex he's ever had in his life.

And, of course, it's the one time they fuck without a condom and without pulling out. Not that that's guaranteed to help anything, but hey, it might have? Maybe it's just wishful thinking on Syobai's part.

"So what's the problem?" Sora continues. "Does he not want the babies?"

Syobai looks away. "I, uh. I don't know."

Sora's eyes narrow dangerously. "You didn't talk to him about it?"

Syobai gives a dry laugh. "Well, ya see, that's where the whole "I fucked up really bad" bit comes in."

"What'd you do." This isn't spoken as a question, somehow, as Sora's voice deepens. She's already pissed off, great, and Syobai has a feeling she won't be any happier when he tells this part of the story.

"Um." Syobai swallows again, more nervous this time. "I... I ran off."

Silence. "Excuse me?" Sora says. "You wanna run that by me again?"

Syobai still isn't meeting her eyes. He recalls exactly how the exchange went, just about two hours ago now.

"I'm pregnant."

The world stops turning.

Mikado's holding his hands over his stomach, gloved fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt so tightly his hands shake. Syobai, on the other hand, just. Stands there. Staring at Mikado, completely speechless.

Before he knows it, his body is reacting all on its own. Syobai opens his mouth, trying to form an intelligent response, but all that comes out is two words he'll regret deeply:

"I can't."

Before Mikado reacts to that, Syobai yanks the front door open and takes off down the street, running and running and running until he can't, falling to his knees behind the 7-11 -- how the hell did he get there, it's a mile from the house -- choking and coughing before he inevitably pukes from the strain of running so far, so fast.

This all goes through his head in the span of about two seconds. "I just stood there like an idiot," Syobai finally says. "I -- I said I can't and then I ran." His hand curls into a fist. "I ran like the dumb fucking coward I am." He brings his fist down on the table as hard as he can. Sora doesn't jump, instead staring at him evenly. "Go ahead and say it. I know you want to."

"You're right for once. What the hell is wrong with you?" Sora snaps. "I know that taking responsibility for your numerous fuck-ups is completely foreign to you, and usually you get away with it with no consequences because that's just how it is when you deal with people you don't care about and criminals, and hey, I can let it go when it's some nameless Yakuza dude who got assassinated with a gun you sold someone 'cause I don't care either," she begins. "But then, you turn around and do this shit? To Mikado? To someone we all know, and yeah, he might be a rat, but he doesn't deserve to be left high and dry and pregnant and scared because you --" And here she points at him, Syobai flinching as every word cuts deeper, "-- are a fucking coward. You're God damn right you screwed up."

"I was scared," Syobai says, his weak attempt at a protest surprising even himself.

"You were scared?" Sora laughs, and it's bitter. "That's funny. It's funny that you were scared. How do you think Mikado feels right now? Alone, facing the possibility of having to raise more than one child by himself after the man he's spent half of high school madly in love with, and the man he's been sleeping with for the past six months, ran away when he told him he'd gotten him pregnant?"

There's really nothing he can say to that. Syobai sighs shakily. "I wasn't just scared because he's pregnant," he finally says. "I was scared because..."

He shuts his eyes.

"Because I love him. I love him, so much that it hurts, and I may as well have just stabbed him right in the chest."

"And you're not used to that," Sora says. "You're not used to caring for anyone except yourself. But as long as you kept telling yourself it was just for fun, and there were no feelings involved, you could shrug it off. Maybe a part of you thought Mikado felt the same way, like it was just a game. Then he started to make your world wider, you started to get comfortable with it, and you got scared. Then he came to you, and told you that it wasn't just him anymore, and you panicked. You couldn't handle it. But instead of staying there and talking to him about it like an adult, you were just cryptic, and then you ran away."

Syobai opens his eyes and looks over at Sora. He somehow looks even older than he usually does. "Yeah. Yeah, you got me there." He swallows, heavily, and his mouth tastes like copper from how hard he's been chewing on his inner lip. "It was just supposed to be for fun. It was never supposed to be serious."

"Yeah, well, tough shit," Sora shrugs. "Mikado's pregnant. You're gonna be a dad. You could run all the way to America and it wouldn't change a thing. The only difference is, Mikado has to live with what you gave him forever. You've got two choices: you can drag your sorry ass home and show Mikado you're sorry, or you can keep running away. But, I'll have you know..." And here, Sora's voice darkens, and she looks more dangerous now than she ever did before even with a gun in her hands, "If you leave him like that? And if you ever run away from him like that again? And dare to show your face in Japan again? I will personally hunt you down and make you beg for me to kill you. Understand?"

"... yeah. I understand," Syobai replies. He runs a hand through his hair while Sora takes a couple of breaths to calm herself down. "I don't want to leave him. But I don't think I'm ready to be a father. Or much of anything, really." He looks down at his hands, rough and calloused and forever stained with the blood of so many that only he can see. "What if I can't love them?"

"If you love Mikado as much as you say you do, you'll fall in love with those babies way before they're ever born," Sora tells him. "Listen. This world's gone to shit. It's gonna be hard to raise a family like this. That's why Yoruko and I are waiting. But it's a little too late for you to do that, so all you can do is suck it up and do everything you can to make sure they never have to be a part of what we were."

Sora's words seal Syobai's decision.

---

He tries calling Mikado to tell him he's coming home for an hour, and gets absolutely no response. A part of Syobai is worried, desperately hoping Mikado didn't do something stupid and end up hurting himself, and wants to get home as soon as he can, but...

The other part of him feels like if he just shows up at home with no warning, it'll only make the situation that much worse.

So he calls, and calls, and calls, and gets sent to voicemail over and over, until finally, there's an answer.

"Fucking Syobai Hashimoto," a voice that is decidedly not Mikado's comes through the speaker. "I ought to skin you alive and wear you like a fur coat. How dare you."

Syobai sighs and frowns, rubs a hand over his face. "Hello, Nikei."

"Don't you hello, Nikei me!" The furious man spits over the phone. "Ever since Mikado told me you two were a thing, I've been looking for a reason to shoot you and make Why Syobai Hashimoto's Death Should be Celebrated as a National Holiday an article on the front page news for a month straight! Now I finally get a reason and I can't even do it because Mikado wants his kids to know their scumbag father!"

Syobai pauses. "... he wants me to come back?"

"I want you to come back, too," Nikei starts to say. "So I can beat you to death with a baseball bat." It sounds like he wants to say more, but then Syobai hears a very quiet, muffled voice in the background. It has to be Mikado. He strains to hear, but it's no use, because the phone doesn't pick up exactly what he's saying. A few seconds later, though, he hears Nikei give a heavy sigh.

"Alright, fine. Mikado wants to hear you out, so I won't be here when you get back, sadly," Nikei mutters. "But I can be there in ten minutes tops if he calls me back, and I'd love to see you try to outrun my bullets."

"Point taken." Syobai closes his eyes and lets out a slow breath. "Tell him to leave the door unlocked. I'm coming home."

---

It takes a little under an hour for Syobai to get home. He has to walk all the way there, after all, and he's already tired, but he pushes through. By the time he makes it to the driveway, it feels like his legs are about to fall off.

Then he gets to the front door, puts his hand on the doorknob, and hesitates. It's like all of the exhaustion evaporates, replaced by pure adrenaline and the urge to turn around and start running again.

No. He's made up his mind. Syobai closes his eyes, the mental image of Mikado laughing brightly in his arms appearing to him with no trouble at all, without him even needing to think about it.

God. All the things he would do to make that smile come back to Mikado's face. All the things he would do to forget the look of heartbreak he saw for just a split second when they were standing in the living room.

He turns the doorknob and walks inside the empty living room. His feet land in the same place they were, and he lets the door close behind him as he takes a few shallow breaths. The nagging little voice in the back of his head says you should've ended this a long time ago, Hashimoto. You always knew you'd never be man enough for him, to protect him, to care for him. You're just a coward.

Syobai ignores it, pushes through the pain and walks over to the door of the bedroom he and Mikado have been sharing. Technically, it's Syobai's room, because this is his house, but his sheets smell like Mikado, and it's his and Mikado's clothes on the floor in that room, and there's a picture of both of them hanging on the wall.

Syobai bites his lip so hard he tastes blood, then knocks three times on the door. He contemplates saying something to announce his presence, but finds it better to keep his mouth shut for right now.

At least, until the door opens up, and it's Mikado standing before him, with no mask, his face clearly streaked and stained with tears. Syobai forces himself to look at his face, look him in the eyes, because Mikado deserves that, at least. He deserves so much more than what Syobai's given him.

Neither of them really knows what to say at first. Then Syobai takes a shuddering, shallow breath.

"I'm sorry, for what I said," Syobai finally says. "I said "I can't." That was a lie. I - I can, I just... didn't want to face it."

"I really hope you didn't come all the way here just to say I'm sorry and expect me to forgive you," Mikado says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Syobai shakes his head. "I'm not asking you to forgive me right now," he murmurs. "I just want you to hear me out. Then you can do whatever you want. I swear. Please."

Mikado bites his lip and looks down at the floor, contemplating. "Fine. But I'm not doing this for you."

"That's okay." Syobai closes his eyes for a moment, then looks back evenly at Mikado as he slowly gets to his knees, now looking up at him. Mikado doesn't hide the look of shock on his face as Syobai starts talking.

"Listen. I'm not gonna make excuses. I'm a coward, and I'm a fool. I broke your heart. When things go beyond my intentions, I try to own up to them. Today I ran away instead." He swallows heavily, watches as Mikado shuts his eyes tight. "I - until you told me this morning, I was a man with nothing to lose. Nobody but myself. Then I went from that, to having everything to lose in two words. All my life, I never cared about what happened to anybody but myself. I didn't give a shit. And now..." He looks at Mikado's stomach, where he's resting one of his gloved hands, as though he isn't even thinking about it.

"I realized no matter how far I ran, or for how long, I'd never be able to forget that. I couldn't change it. I can't go back in time and stop what happened." Syobai sighs. Mikado's hands tremble. "The more I thought about it, the more I realized: I don't want to stop what happened. I don't want these kids to not exist."

"Then why did you run away? Why'd you leave me?" Mikado chokes out.

There's no turning back now. Syobai looks at Mikado right in the eyes, grey meeting pale brown, Syobai finally ready to say the words that could make or break him.

"Because I love you, Mikado Sannoji," Syobai says, clearly, sincerely, the only words that have ever come from his mouth with complete purity. "I love you, and it's real and it's raw and it scares the living hell out of me, because I didn't think I could until you walked into my life." He reaches out, fully ready for Mikado to push him away. Instead, he's pleasantly surprised when his cold hands are wrapped in Mikado's warm ones. He hasn't looked away from him, not for a moment, watching as more tears spill down Mikado's face despite him trying to fight them. "I got through life by putting up paywalls, literally, and I knew no person in their right mind would ever wanna get past them." He gives a little laugh. "I didn't count on you, coming in and blowing holes through them."

"Hey, I only blew a hole in a wall once, and that was an accident," Mikado laughs and cries at the same time, his body trembling. By now, Syobai's shaking too, but he's still fighting his own tears.

"Well, you sure got rid of mine," Syobai says. He lifts one of his hands to his lips and kisses his knuckles. "To be honest, I'm still scared. I don't know what I'm doing, not with you, not with the kids we made, not with my life, but I do know one thing: I wanna figure it out with you, and nobody else."

His voice cracks. Syobai swallows heavily, one last ditch-effort attempt at holding back his emotions.

"Will you let me stay here, right here, by your side?" Syobai asks, voice strained. "Will you let me become the man you deserve?" He sniffs, his last words coming in a quiet sob:

"Will you let me be a father?"

Mikado nods, squeezes Syobai's hands, his decision made as soon as he sees the tears -- so very real, undeniable evidence of Syobai bearing his soul to Mikado for the first time -- coming down his face like rain.

"Yeah. Yes, let's do it," Mikado whispers. "Oh, my God. We're gonna be fathers."

Syobai leans forward a little, rests his head against Mikado's belly, presses their still interlocked hands against the small, barely-noticeable swell, evidence that their children are safe, growing, and healthy. He doesn't say a word. He doesn't need to, as he rolls up the bottom of Mikado's shirt and kisses his skin, so gently he's afraid he imagined it at first.

Syobai Hashimoto doesn't so much fall in love with Mikado Sannoji; instead, rather, he stumbles into it, clumsy and foolish and with no grace at all. But he falls in love with their little ones in a split second, a moment in time he'll never forget.

#danganronpa #dangan ronpa #sdra2 #super danganronpa another 2 #super dangan ronpa another 2 #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #mine #fic: iris #sannohashi #mikado sannoji #syobai hashimoto

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lightsandlostbells · 6 years ago

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Druck season 2, episode 7 reaction

Goddamn, Druck. I’ve been dragging my ass with the rest of the S2 reactions because honestly, the content is pretty rough and rewatching it requires a certain amount of emotional fortitude, lol.

Anyway, here’s me putting myself through S2 hell so I can catch up to recap S3 hell!

Episode 7

Clip 1 - Interesting choice of entertainment

As I mentioned in the last reaction, I thought we might start with Mia calling off their relationship, as if last night was her way of saying goodbye to Alex, getting in just a little more time together because she did as Kiki asked. But obviously that wasn’t the case, because Mia and Alex are very much still in bed together.

They are sitting up and watching a movie on a laptop. In the movie, a woman kisses another woman. We cut away to Alex and Mia sitting there stiffly, sneaking glances at each other, as we hear the scene get sexy, with zippers unzipped, lots of panting and wet smacking sounds. Both of them clearly getting turned on by this video. Alex shifts and I think he covers his lap a little more, lol. He shifts closer to her and “subtly” puts his hand out for the taking. I love that Mia notices and smirks a little but doesn’t seem to take his hand.

This whole part of the scene was so weirdly true to life, lmao, if you’ve ever ended up watching a film that was more explicit than expected with someone. I had a friend who ended up watching Y Tu Mamá También on like a first or second date, neither of them knowing what the movie was about, and it was apparently very awkward.

Finally he turns off the film and kisses her. She leans away eventually and starts asking him about the scene - whether he was turned on by her or the scene. He’s like … both? He asks whether Mia watches porn and she says yes.

There was some debate about like … whether it’s in-character for Mia to watch porn or whether it’s hypocritical of her to do so as a feminist, and I don’t want to even get into the larger debate about whether porn can be feminist because holy shit is that a can of worms, but whether or not you think it’s compatible for Mia to watch porn with her being a feminist, people do a lot of stuff that isn’t 100% in line with their ideals. A lot of feminist criticism also opposes makeup and believes it to be a product of patriarchy, but Mia wears lipstick anyway. So just on the level of whether this is consistent with her as a character, i don’t think it’s wildly OOC.

There was also a lot of (understandable) debate about them watching a lesbian sex scene while still dodging a clear answer about Mia’s sexuality, especially right after Kiki made that comment about Mia being bi in the previous night’s clip, which again went unanswered. By the end of the episode they did give us an answer, but watching in real time made it feel more like they were drawing out the answer. I guess I’m wondering just why they chose to do so? Was it to tease the audience, or were they trying to find a way to drop the answer in naturally (because I can think of places where they could have done so earlier), or was there intended to be a reason story-wise that Mia’s a little vague? Is it just because it’s related to her romantic history, and it’s difficult for her to mention? Because she could mention her bisexuality without talking about specific relationships, although it’s true people might ask whether she’d ever been with a girl.

I think the most likely reason is perhaps that the Druck team didn’t expect just how much people wanted from them about Mia’s bisexuality, and they wrote in more scenes mentioning it after they saw fan reaction.

About the video they’re watching - it’s called Wach and it’s apparently by Funk (the channel that does Druck). You can watch it on YouTube although it seemed kind of dreary so I confess I didn’t watch much of it, lol. If it’s really good and I’m missing out, let me know! Anyway, the movie’s about two girlfriends but in the scene Mia and Alex are watching, they’re having a threesome with a guy. Not sure if there’s any bigger significance other than the nod to something else from Funk, and nudging at the topic of Mia’s sexuality, or the sex topic between Mia and Alexander.

He suspects she has a bigger reason for asking and draws a question mark on her forehead. This dude needs to take improv classes already, that’s clearly where his heart lies. Also, I think Mia might be asking why he’s turned on to get his opinion about two women together? I mean, I guess that could be the in-universe explanation why the talk about her sexuality is a little vague is that she wants to see how he’ll react first.

They have a pillow fight and she shoves him out of bed, he runs back into the room and tackles her and they roll around. WATCH THE LAPTOP! Eh, I guess Alex can afford another one.

They’re playful and cute. Things get heated and he slips his hand to crotch level, which makes her shake her head and back off. He asks her what’s allowed. LOW BAR, I know, but at least he doesn’t pressure her to go father than she wants. It’s sad and I don’t want to praise him for showing basic human decency, but William’s comments when Noora didn’t want to sleep with him, saying it was a funny joke and such, or that he’d managed to sleep with her soon anyway, always bothered me, so I’m glad this wasn’t recreated in Alexander.

Mia gives him the finger, and then adds another, which is deeply fucking iconic, and we end as he slides his hand down her pants. Well, damn. A big departure from Noora, not so surprising because Mia has a lot of differences from her (such as drinking alcohol when Noora did not). Part of me is proud of Mia for being upfront about what she wants and setting boundaries for what she doesn’t, the other part is like ohhhhh nooooo, girl. You told Kiki you’d break up with him, you don’t want to go any deeper with him! (...pun intended.)

Clip 2 - Bubble bath

Mia and Alex are taking a bubble bath together, lying at opposite sides. That’s quite intimate. They are doing some types of The Sex at this point even if it is not The Whole Shebang so maybe not surprising, but certainly we’re seeing their physical relationship escalate as a faster pace than Noorhelm. They seem comfortable in there together. Alex says they should stay in there as long as they can. Like, days. Well, if you can tolerate pruning, cold water, and marinating in your own filth for that long, go for it.

Mia offhandedly mentions Alex’s grade retention and he looks tired and not ready to talk about it. That water just got a few degrees colder.

He asks why she’s so cautious, if it’s because of Kiki. Mia lies to him that she talked to Kiki and everything’s cool. MIA, NO. Really???? Not a good idea. You’re not only disrespecting Kiki with what you’re doing now, and lying to your friends, but now you’re lying to Alexander, too. I know that she probably just wants to stay in this bath and in this bubble of Alexander’s apartment where everything’s OK and she gets what she wants and no one is mad and her personal life isn’t messy, but this is not the way to go about it.

OH SHIT he actually asked about negative experiences and whether that’s why she’s bi. Errrr, is he implying that she likes girls because she’s been burned by men? YIKES. Mia tells him that statement alone is reason enough to only date girls from now on. Okay, so is that confirmation of her bisexuality? (I guess if I have to ask, probably not the clearest it could be.) And she says that she could also ask why he only does one-night stands and moves fast. He says it’s complicated. So basically, despite becoming more intimate, literally lying here naked in this tub together, both of them still have some friction, both aren’t completely opening up to each other.

She chides him for his so-called hard life, with his nice car and apartment, and he reminds her that this is his sister’s flat, and we finally get an answer of sorts that his sister is in Bali. (By now we know the truth, but when this aired I wrote in my notes: “Super dark theory: the sister is dead and he means they scattered her ashes in Bali or something like that.”)

He talks about it’s hard with his parents and then says he wants to get out of the tub as the water is getting cold, which is one hell of a turnaround from wanting to stay in there for days like a minute ago. Mia says things are difficult with her parents, too, and she’s sorry. That makes him lie back down in the tub. Tension averted for now. They fist-bump. I guess their couple thing is hand gestures? Like Jonas has Hanna’s nose, meanwhile Mia and Alex are just flipping each other the bird and knocking knuckles. I can get into that, they certainly have a lot of options.

Clip 3 - Truth or dare

Mia and Alex step outside and turn off airplane mode on their phones. So they’re really hiding from everyone, huh, not even letting text messages come through. This is shady as hell that Mia’s doing this when she told Kiki otherwise. She’s lucky because this is holiday break, but she can’t camp out in Alexander’s apartment away from the rest of the world forever

Mia told the girls she was ill. DUDE. All of them were worried and checking in on her. I wonder how many of them truly believed her and didn’t have any suspicion of what she was really doing? Kiki in particular seemed to wonder how she was doing, and I’m not sure she totally bought Mia’s excuse. But whether she did or not, that must make Mia feel a ton of guilt. (Though she still doesn’t break up with him...)

I love this shot of Mia and Alex looking so small and uncomfortable once they stepped outside, like it’s overwhelming and harsh to leave their bubble.

They go back inside because it’s cold, or because they don’t want to face the outside world, and Mia is pensive. She spins around the thermos like it’s spin the bottle (and lmao when it lands between them, fixes it to point toward Alex) and says truth or dare. I wonder why she chose that moment to get some truth between them? Because she feels guilty about the lies she told her friends? Because she wants to know this thing she’s lying to them about is worth it, and that means she has to open up?

He says truth. She asks, “Why me?” He says it’s because she knows who he is. Which true, if you assume he means all the way from when she told him off about Kiki back in season 1. She’s been pointing out his flaws all along. And I mean, maybe he has a shit opinion of himself, but she wasn’t wrong about him (at least not entirely) and she didn’t fall for an idealized version of him, Alexander the rich bad boy with the cool car who’s the most wanted guy in school. She saw through that and she saw him at much of his worst, and yet somehow she’s here anyway. And I don’t know if this is exactly what he meant, but she also knows him in the sense that they have some things in common, like dealing with difficult parents, being Christmas orphans, etc.

Mia directs the thermos at herself and says truth. Bold move considering she knows what he’s probably going to ask; she’s really just ready to talk to him about it, and this is maybe an easier way to do so, framing it as a game. Alex takes a moment to think about what to ask and then asks why she’s so cautious. She tells the story of when she was 13 and she had a crush on her friend’s older brother, who was 18. He paid her a lot of compliments and she thought he liked her. He pressured her into sleeping with him, she didn’t want to but did it anyway, and then he never texted her again. Some people are school knew about it. She felt bad about herself and couldn’t talk to anyone.

The age of consent in Germany is 14, making what happened to Mia statutory rape. This adds perhaps even more impact to Mia reporting Bjorn later in the season, because it doesn’t sound like the first guy faced any repercussions for what he did; with Bjorn there is hope that justice will be served.

I think this explains a lot about why Mia was cautious about Alexander in particular, because he’s the kind of guy who was feeding girls compliments, sleeping with them, and cutting them off. Didn’t Alexander compliment Kiki’s stomach or something? And then of course Mia had a front-row seat to him ghosting Kiki after sleeping with her, and then seeing it all happen again like a slow-motion car crash. I really, really hope this makes him think about what he was doing with girls before Mia. Remember how he tried to justify himself in episode 2 about what he did to Kiki, not making her promises and saying how he couldn’t have torn down her self-image all by himself? Here he sees the long-lasting effects of that behavior on someone. Just think, there are probably Mias out there who will end up telling their stories to someone else, and the guy they’re talking about will be Alexander.

Alex is about to turn the bottle back to himself, but Mia stops it and says she also had a thing with a girl that ended before she came to Germany. No details on why it ended, if it was something really bad or more of a mundane breakup. Since she’s not going into details, I’m assuming whatever happened wasn’t horrible, but I’d still like to know more details about it.

Could they have handled Mia’s sexuality better? Yes, of course. But at this point I was just glad they addressed it directly. It would be nice if they touched on it in the future: we haven’t yet had the build-up of Matteo living in the flat, or being rescued by Hans, but with both Hans and Mia being members of the LGBT community, it would be really nice if they were able to support Matteo, and then we could hear more about Mia’s sexuality, too, like her past relationship, how she realized she was bi, etc.

He says no pressure, they have all the time in the world. THANK GOD. Low bar, I know, but I also still think there’s value in showing men being respectful and not pressuring women into sex? If you consider that the target audience is teen girls, this is a message that they need to be hearing - that they are allowed to set sexual boundaries and that boys have to respect them. And for teenage boys, while Alex has done a lot of messed-up stuff regarding girls, this part can still be used as a model for respecting boundaries and getting consent.

Clip 4 - I bet Hans and Linn ate the soup later

Mia and Alexander are in Mia’s room, ostensibly trying to study but very clearly hot for each other and making this a kind of foreplay. However, they don’t get very far until Hans comes into the room. He asks whether Alexander made “grumpy cat” angry, lmao. I love that nickname for Mia. He flops on the bed as if checking out the view of Alexander. Hans, what about Michi??

UNFORTUNATELY the doorbell rings and Linn opens Mia’s door, saying there’s a girl with soup. We hear Kiki’s voice. UH OH. Damn, Mia didn’t even really have time to like, try to shove Alexander under the bed or anything, did she?

Alexander says it’s totally OK with him. Um, I bet it is. Would be a great opportunity to be like, hey Kiki, sorry for dumping you on NYE? Although he doesn’t look totally OK with it, though that might just be because Mia is so visibly worried.

Lol, Hans thinks for a moment, clearly recognizing Mia’s distress, and then strips off his robe and throws it over Alexander, and hey, he was the only one doing anything smart in the moment? Maybe not honest, but smart? OK, not smart, but it was ... something.

Well, Alexander ain’t up for hiding under a robe, he takes it off as Kiki walks in with a big pot. She eyes Alexander and Mia, saying she made soup. She looks stunned at first, but then gets pissed and says it’s one thing for her to fuck up and apologize, but this is the worst. I have to agree, honestly. Mia put the burden on Kiki to tell her what to do, and then she didn’t even respect Kiki’s wishes. And then she lied to everyone. After that whole performance with cooking Kiki a nice dinner to talk about how sorry she was? This makes it seem like Mia just doesn’t give a shit about Kiki’s feelings, her crying and apologizing was an act to make Mia feel better, not Kiki.

I wonder if Kiki was really thinking Mia broke it off, or if she wasn’t suspicious. Like she was definitely suspicious after Sam put it out there a few episodes ago, and some of her moves were kinda calculated toward figuring out the truth. The soup may have been genuine goodwill, but maybe she also wanted to see if Mia was really sick, or if she was hiding something. Kiki did look very shocked when she saw Alexander, but maybe she was telling herself that no, Mia wouldn’t lie, Mia meant what she said, Mia cares about her. So this moment was confirming her worst fears.

Kiki angrily puts down the bowl of soup and I have to give her some credit for not throwing it or dropping it, which is what I was expecting.

Alexander asked her why she lied, and Mia says she doesn’t know. Errr, not a great answer, Mia. I have an idea why she lied. She wanted the moral high ground of “making things right” but didn’t want to actually give anything up. She wanted to ignore or run from the problems instead of dealing with them.

Mia says she can’t do this to Kiki. Alexander is pissed. Honestly, I can’t blame him for that. He has his flaws, too, for sure, and has been a shit to Kiki, but he also asked Mia if things were OK with her and Kiki, and she said they were, and now he’s finding out they weren’t and she’s using that as a reason to break up. I’d feel pretty betrayed. She also gave them a few days where they were extremely open with each other, took their relationship to the next level physically, got vulnerable with each other, and after that, she’s calling it off. When she knew all along that it was a bad idea - like she could have nipped this in the bud at the benefit concert. Instead it’s like she dawdled and made their relationship more intense and meaningful before ending it for a reason that’s been there the whole time, which is so much worse. (For Alexander, a dude who doesn’t get close to people? Even worse.)

Mia has massively fucked up but from a story perspective, I don’t mind it? I mean … that’s good for the protagonist’s growth. I like how messy Mia has been. I think it takes her off the “perfect girl” pedestal.

Clip 5 - Panic attack

Mia is lying in bed in the dark at 21:00, so you know, she’s called it an early night. I feel you, girl. She reads her texts from earlier, where she and Alex flirted and discussed him coming over to study. How nice things were just hours earlier. No new messages.

By the way, I can see the tear streaks on her face when she’s in bed, nice detail.

However, after she puts it down and rolls over, her phone lights up. She checks it and Alex is telling her to come over. Typing in all caps so it seems extra urgent.

As she’s running to Alexander, you hear some heavy breathing and rewatching the scene, it definitely sounds masculine, but when I first watched this clip I was so surprised by this development and why Alexander needed Mia that I wasn’t paying super close attention (also not watching with headphones), and I thought it was Mia’s breathing as she’s worried and running out the door. The reveal that this is Alex’s heavy breathing during a panic attack really stunned me. It adds so much tension to the scene as Mia is running to his place, obviously heavy breathing is something that reminds you of dangerous or tense scenarios.

She runs up the stairs to his place and his door is open, the lights are dim. The way the camera follows her is really disorienting, it’s hurried, it’s shaky. The lights make everything eerier - it’s dark and the sign on the wall makes the room pink, it’s not unnatural. Watching Mia run through his apartment trying to find Alex feels like navigating a maze.

Mia calls out for Alexander and eventually finds him in his underwear in a corner, sobbing and hyperventilating. You can see him clearly in the light but there’s still something unfocused about it. Mia grabs a paper bag from the kitchen and has him breathe into it. He’s crying and saying he wasn’t there. Holy shit, this is a panic attack?

Mia holds him as he cries and gasps for breath. He asks her to stay, she says she’s not going anywhere. She makes a joke about it still being 50 euro with breakfast and he manages to laugh.

This pose at the end is definitely giving off Pietà vibes.

The camera goes from extreme closeups as Alex is gasping to pulling back once he lays in Mia’s arms and calms down a bit, once he’s able to breathe and laugh at her joke. Like we’re getting breathing room. The music also goes from really tense to something more gentle once he relaxes in her arms and she says she’ll stay.

Goddamn. So instead of Mia having panic attacks/trauma, it’s Alex??? It was Noora who was panicking in OG, but we’ve switched the roles, Mia is the one to calm down Alexander.

Props to Druck for showing a dude having a full-blown attack like this, in a very non-glamorous and vulnerable way. Panic attacks in general can be pretty visceral and they’re not pretty, and I think some media shies away from showing male characters in really fragile states like this. And it’s definitely a reversal of a lot of media gender roles to have Mia the fully clothed one who’s “in control” helping out Alex, the half-naked, sobbing and shaking one. And for this not to be portrayed as something weak, but something healing. Also, big props to the actors. Chris Veres didn’t hold back in this scene.

This clip really got to me, especially as someone who has experienced panic attacks. The earlier scene with Kiki discovering Mia and Alexander together had ratcheted up the drama, but this was one of those clips where I couldn’t really do anything else after I watched it for a little while, it had gotten under my skin that much. It’s hard for me to unpack it. Even rewatching it unnerves me, though Mia’s gentleness and compassion, and the ending where she says she’s not going anywhere, make the experience more uplifting. Bravo, Druck.

I think it helped that it was so surprising too, like we already got a very important clip earlier in the day, and it was the drama we were all expecting, the next step in the Kiki/Mia/Alex situation, but this definitely was not what I was expecting next, both in that it’s a divergence from the original storyline and that I figured the next clip would build on Mia dealing with estrangement from both Kiki and Alex.

Clip 6 - Giddy up

Mia wakes up in bed with Alex the next morning. I like the contrast here from the last scene, just what a difference the daylight can make, feeling so much less threatening, and I like Mia’s reaction, as if she’s taking in all that happened last night. She looks at a Polaroid picture at the side of the bed, of Alex and his sister. The fact that it’s beside the bed tells you how much Alex probably looks at it and misses his sister.

Alex stir and wakes up. Heh, the crinkles of their pillows and sheets are so damn loud? I kinda love it, though, it reminds me of how good it feels to slowly wake up after a good night’s sleep. He tells Mia that he had a dream where he was feeling bad and cried in front of Mia, weird right? Mia agrees. It’s very quiet and they’re whispering. Comforting, talking about it and acknowledging it without having to go into the ugly details right now. And Mia isn’t grilling him over why he was having a panic attack or anything, just being gentle. She strokes the hair behind his ear and kisses him. They kiss softly and it gets a little more intense until Mia reaches for the jar next to Alexander’s bed and grabs a condom. They smile and Mia sits up on him and takes off her shirt. The music helpfully proclaims, “I’m a cowboy” so I mean, we know what position they used. Not surprising Mia would be on top.

I have zero problems with Mia and Alexander having sex sooner than the season finale, as with Noorhelm, although I was kinda like … is this reeeeally the best time to take this step, kids? Not because of Alexander’s panic attack, but more about Kiki walking in on them and finding out, and Mia thinking she can’t do that to Kiki, and what the hell they were going to do. It felt like they had a lot to talk about. But even so, I can definitely see why Mia felt it was the right time to take this step. There was no way Mia was leaving Alexander after last night, and clearly they care about each other a ton. It must have felt not just like waking up in the morning, but that they survived the night. The panic attack made Mia realize the total depth of her feelings, I think, and so I can fully see why it led to increased tenderness and intimacy.

Comparing Mia and Noora, Mia has trust issues and a bad experience with sex like Noora, but William did more stuff that would’ve broken Noora’s trust and made her question her feelings for him before they had sex. Noora and William kissed, then William was cold to her in front of his brother, so Noora was upset, then they made up, then William smashed a bottle over a guy’s head, then Noora was upset at that and questioned whether she could be with William, then before they could get back together, Niko happened. Since they’ve kissed, Mia hasn’t really had so many reasons to be upset with Alexander himself - it’s all about the situation with Kiki putting stress on their relationship. So I can see why the sexual element of their relationship, and the relationship as a whole, escalated much faster; Mia had more time to build up trust with him without that getting interrupted.

Clip 7 - Crew love is true love

Hanna and Mia are in the bathroom and Mia’s been telling Hanna how fast everything has gone in the last few days. It sure did! By the way, Hanna’s looking very pretty.

I like how they went from the cowboy song in the previous clip being a non-diegetic song and transitioned into this one as a diegetic song, with it playing at the Abi party now. That kind of stuff is clever, and it’s smoother than just choppily switching songs between scenes.

Alex is going to therapy now, which I love. I love that we have the Bad Boy Rich Dreamboat character seeking professional help for his trauma, I love that Druck is mentioning therapy rather casually, normalizing it. It’s not something that’s considered shameful or embarrassing, just a potential avenue for help. Mia says she doesn’t think it was his first panic attack, but she doesn’t really know why. (I’d understand if people were ehhhh about Mia telling all this to Hanna if you want, like IDK if Alexander gave her permission to tell people about his panic attack. Mia and Hanna seem to be pretty trustworthy about stuff like Matteo’s sexuality and they’re not trading it as juicy gossip, but I would get it.)

Hanna says Jonas also won’t talk to anyone, not even Matteo. Ohhh no. That boy might need some professional help, too, if he’s that much of a mess.

Hanna’s totally hugging turtleneck guy/not Gereven when they enter the club. Mia looks around and sees Kiki with Carlos. KIKI, TREAT HIM RIGHT. CARLOS, TREAT HER RIGHT. Kiki glares at Mia.

Carlos gets a drink the same time Mia does and says, “What’s up Judas?” Not gonna lie, that’s mean, but it made me laugh. He does the typical “ugh girl drama BITCH FIGHT” thing, and lmao, I can’t help but think of like Jonas/Toilet Sam tussling in the stairwell in S1. Yes, it’s all girl drama, boy fights just don’t exist, ever!

Carlos is like, it’s none of my business, he doesn’t want to get involved, but he’s getting involved (lmao) and tells her how Kiki was in a very bad state the last few days, and says it would be a good move to smooth everything out. He’s like, good talk, and walks off. Without paying either, lol. Mia pays for him. Well, I guess she has some groveling to do. God, that talk was ridiculous but benevolent of him? He’s looking out for Kiki’s well-being.

"Two angry birds” aka Sam and Amira (and lmao I love that nickname) come up to Mia. Indeed, they look angry. Mia says she’ll make it up to Kiki. I mean, she should probably apologize to the other girls, too, for lying and putting them all in this awkward position where they’re torn between friends.

Heh, there’s some banter among the girls about Sam being the only one who’s single and when Amira is like helloooo, Sam says she has Allah. Although it’s played more as a joke, this follows the same pattern of people disregarding the Sana character as someone who can have romantic relationships and feelings. She doesn’t count in the conversations about who in their group is alone and who’s not.

Mia follows Kiki to talk to her. She apologizes and Kiki just looks annoyed. I don’t blame her considering that Mia’s last apology with the dinner turned out to feel hollow, all words but not backed up with actions. Kiki points out she was a hypocrite. I love Mia and I feel sympathy for her, but Kiki is really really not wrong.

Maybe this is obvious, but I’m seriously just realizing how close this situation is to Eva/Jonas/Ingrid in S1 (or Hanna/Jonas/Leonie), even more than Vilde, Noora, and William were to that situation. Mia fucked it up with Kiki to a level Noora didn’t with Vilde.

Kiki interrupts and tells Mia what’s what - that if she had been honest from the beginning, Kiki wouldn’t have stopped her. But instead, Mia went to her when Kiki was heartbroken and basically made Kiki tell her what to do and give her her blessing. That’s exactly what happened! Mia put the burden on Kiki and basically said her happiness was in Kiki’s hands, like either Kiki had to be the villain and tell Mia to break up with Alex, or put aside her own feelings and be OK with it, even when she was the person who was wronged. Kiki didn’t feel like doing giving her blessing when she felt like shit and had been betrayed by a friend. And she didn’t expect Mia to listen, but Mia should’ve cared about her from the beginning. Kiki calls Mia out on being honest not just with others, but with herself. Kki used to compare herself to Mia, Mia gives all these moral lectures that sound smart and clever, but it’s not about what you say, but what you do. Well, shit. She’s right. And Mia needs to hear this. I’ve said this before, but I think their relationship is really complex this season. Messy, but complex. And this dynamic between them, with Kiki feeling like Mia didn’t really care, or was judging her, goes beyond just Alexander’s involvement. It’s not just fighting because of a boy.

Mia is apologizing and Carlos comes in to ruin the moment and be like “You straightened it out?” Lmao dude, don’t interrupt. He gives them all a shot, which is his attempt to play mediator, I guess, so he’s dumb but he’s trying. Kiki clinks glasses with him, then walks out. When Mia calls after her, Kiki says you still want my blessing? But you need yours. Whoaaaa.

Carlos and Kiki walk off hand in hand talking about her breasts. Well, I guess it’s nice that they’re appreciated without the surgery. Though obviously it’s about how Kiki feels about her body, not Carlos.

Mia stays behind and has a Moment, I guess she’s thinking about how she needs to go all in with Alexander, get rid of her remaining doubts. Then she goes out to meet her girls, they smile and dance. Finally Kiki smiles at Mia and they dance together. I love their little glance of reconciliation. The girl squad has a group hug. Awww!

Toilet Sam comes in and greets everyone! He’s talking to Hanna and OF FUCKING COURSE that’s when Jonas and Matteo roll in. Jonas sees Hanna and Sam and legit pulls a Granpa Smpson exit, lmao at Matteo’s exasperated exit after him. Poor Matteo.

Mia and Kiki dance together in the closing moments of the clip, and it’s a fitting ending. Yay, they’re happy again! Truly the next three episodes will only be good times and no more suffering!

Social Media/General Comments:

LMAO, I fucking lost it at all the passive-aggressive Instagram stories that Kiki posted after the dinner from last episode. She tagged only Amira, Hanna, and Sam, not Mia, posting pictures that didn’t include Mia, set to Little Mix’s “Shout Out to my Ex” for that extra bitter flair. Which you know, fits Kiki’s relationship with Alexander, but honestly feels more like Mia is her ex going by the pictures, lol. Then Amira, Hanna, and Sam respond by posting Kiki’s posts WITH Mia, like good lord, the dramaaaaa of it all. I mean, they’re all making a statement, that they’re not ditching Mia, but how must that make Kiki feel? But it’s all so teenage and petty and immature that I love it.

Jonas flakes on Matteo, saying he needs to study, but it’s more like he’s staying home and getting wasted. Matteo is worried and says they barely see each other anymore. Jeez. This is a total reversal of what we’ll likely see in S3, unless they are BOTH total messes in that season. Then it’ll be up to wise men Carlos and Abdi to step up for their bros. We did see Carlos having some sage advice in this episode, so maybe it’s not such a wild idea?

Matteo and Hanna talk later and Matteo lets Hanna know that Jonas isn’t doing well and that he failed a math test. I don’t think it’s Hanna’s duty to fix Jonas’ problems at all, but it’s nice that Matteo and Hanna are talking together and trying to help Jonas.

The other girls were gossiping about Mia and Alex. Amira figured out that Mia probably wasn’t answering because Mia was at Alexander’s place. Sigh, Mia. How long did you think you could keep your relationship a secret? It always gets out, as you just learned last week!!

Kiki posts a LOT of stuff about fake friends on IG after she discovers Mia and Alex together, and it’s pretty juvenile, but you know, hashtag relatable. And understandable. Super teenage.

I like that Amira reached out to Kiki and said she was there if she needed to talk. Kiki has been a shit to Amira on multiple occasions, but Amira remains a true friend. And I hope Kiki keeps this in mind the next time she wants to say something racist or insensitive (not that she would recognize it as such, probably).

Druck gave out hotline information for teenagers after the panic attack clip, encouraging them to talk to someone, which is great. Again, I love how they’re encouraging teenagers not to go through their problems alone, whether it’s through therapy, hotlines, or talking to trusted friends and family.

Amira talked about religious discrimination on Instagram and how difficult it is to get into public service in Germany when you wear a hijab. She’s mentioned this before, when the girls were meeting with career counselors, and I really hope that we somehow get a S4 despite the girls’ graduation so we can get an Amira season. I would love to see her story talk specifically about her ambitions and how she tries to achieve them despite people constantly telling her she won’t be able to make it as a Muslim hijabi. Just send Amira to Australia and she can have a life-changing backpacking adventure. It would be amazing. (Skam never gave us the Evak + boy squad Morocco trip we deserved, so I am down for Druck providing that awesome travelogue content.)

I am not German so please feel free to correct me or clarify me on cultural and language matters.

If you got this far, thank you for reading!

#druck reactions #druck

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missjanjie · 6 years ago

Text

Branjie Fic - Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer (5/?)

Title: Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer Summary: Brooke Lynn is a graduate student anxiously embracing her new position as her favorite dance professors’ new TA. Vanessa is a sophomore dance major who just might make her way into being more than the teacher(assistant)’s pet. (lesbian/university AU) Word Count: ~2.5k (this chapter)/~13.4k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Vanessa ‘Vanjie’ Mateo/Brooke Lynn Hytes) Rating: E

Read on AO3 | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4

At nine-thirty on Sunday morning, the alarm Brooke Lynn set on her phone went off, jerking her awake from her peaceful sleep. She untangled herself from Vanessa just enough to shut it off, fighting the strongest urge to fall back asleep. It was too cozy, even if they were both sweaty and still smelled vaguely of sex. It was much more difficult to push herself up this time, grunting softly as she rubbed her eyes. “We have to get ready,” she finally announced.

Vanessa groaned and hit her with a pillow. “Like hell we do,” she retorted, rolling over and burying her face in the pillows.

Brooke rolled her eyes and yanked the blankets off of her. She looked down at her for a moment – her naked body sprawled across the bed a vivid reminder of the night before. She didn’t quite know how she was supposed to feel in the wake of that – there wasn’t regret, which is what she expected. Maybe it was some sort of tentative hesitation, an uncertainty of what was to come next. “The bus is leaving at eleven whether you’re on it or not. Now, I’m taking a shower, you should start packing,” she instructed before exiting into the bathroom.

About five minutes into her shower, Brooke heard the bathroom door open. At first, she figured Vanessa was just going to brush her teeth while she showered, then she felt skin brush against her own. “May I help you?” she chuckled and glanced down at her.

“Only if you want to,” Vanessa winked and leaned over to kiss her shoulder. She lathered up her own hair with shampoo, then squirted shower gel into her hands before rubbing them up and down Brooke’s body.

“Baby, we’re on a schedule,” Brooke said in a half-hearted attempt to dissuade her from continuing. She rinsed out her hair, still not doing anything to deter Vanessa’s wandering hands.

“Exactly. Saving time this way. Plus, we’re being like, environmentally friendly and shit, conservating water,” she reasoned, tilting her head and kissing at her neck.

Brooke smiled and rolled her eyes. “Fine, but keep it above the waist,” she relented, cupping her face to kiss her properly. She turned Vanessa around and rinsed her hair out, a tender affection in every touch. There was a peacefulness between them, a calmness that outweighed the potential sensuality. There was beauty in the simplicity of just enjoying the feeling of each other’s hands against their skin.

“Alright, let’s get going,” Brooke turned off the water and playfully smacked Vanessa’s ass as she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a hotel towel, knowing they had to get ready a little faster, because one long shower was just as time consuming as two short ones, if not more. “Besides, don’t you have that competition coming up?”

Vanessa nodded as she blew her hair dry. “Aren’t you going? I thought you’d know all about it,” she remarked offhandedly. When she saw the confusion in Brooke’s expression when she looked up in the mirror, she followed it up with “Aren’t you doing like…a paper or whatever on it? I heard a bunch of TAs’ were invited to write it up,” she explained.

Brooke frowned with her brows furrowed. “No, I don’t actually know what you’re talking about…” she would have to ask Katya about that, she decided. She had been doing so well in her classes, shouldn’t she have been invited too? “But I’ll come and support you either way,” she offered.

“Shit, I didn’t wanna make drama or hurt your feelings,” Vanessa frowned. “I’m sure they just fucked up, don’t sweat it,” she assured as they both finished getting ready.

----------

“Aha!” Brooke held up a sheet of paper and slammed it down on Katya’s desk.

“Okay, so, why are you in here going through my papers? Did we plan for this? Because this feels like something I would forget,” Katya remarked, having spent the past five minutes watching her assistant rifling through a stack of papers.

Brooke tapped at the page to draw her attention to it. “Why didn’t I know about this competition? Vanjie said a bunch of TAs’ were invited to it.”

Katya exhaled deeply. “First of all, your girlfriend got some exaggerated information, because like, two were picked,” she told her. “Second, I did nominate you but…some allegations were made that your interpretations could be skewed with a certain bias…”

The flyer crumpled in Brooke’s fist as her gaze narrowed at Katya. “How many people have you been calling her my girlfriend around?” if her career wasn’t on the line, she could have strangled her.

“No one! I don’t think I did, anyway. Listen, I got shitfaced at the dinner and—”

“You got drunk and outed me?!” Brooke started pacing back and forth across the office, grinding her teeth to keep her mouth shut, otherwise she just might have screamed. “Oh, I’m gonna fucking kill you. You better fix this. Fix this or I swear to god I will not let you hear the end of it.”

Katya got up and tried to steady Brooke to get her to calm down. “Listen, I’ve got this. Reel in the mental breakdown. I’m sure it’s nothing serious, or someone would have said something outright. It’s all rumors,” it took a few moments, but she did finally get her to take a few deep breaths and de-escalate the situation. “Wait, so did you guys—”

“Yes! Okay? I wouldn’t be freaking out if there was nothing to freak out about,” Brooke let out an exasperated sigh. “So, fight your natural instincts and keep your fucking mouth shut, and maybe I’ll actually tell you the dirty details. Are we good?” she waited for Katya to confirm with a nod before she fully relaxed. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

----------

At two in the morning, Brooke was fast asleep. That was until she heard a knock at the door. Sleepy and confused, she haphazardly tied a robe around her waist and opened the door. “Vanjie? Are you okay?” she gently ushered her inside and shut the door behind her. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“This competition got me fucked up, that’s what’s wrong,” Vanessa replied, walking right through the apartment and flopping down on Brooke’s bed. “Some of these hoes been dancing since birth or got that classical training you’re so proud of. I don’t know if I can compete with that,” she was shaken, doing her best to avoid being on the verge of tears. It was finally hitting her how intense the competitive world could be, and it was a lot to take in.

Brooke was quick to rush to her comfort, getting into bed and pulling Vanessa close, cradling her in her lap. She placed gentle kisses over her head and forehead, rubbing her back soothingly. “NYU hit an all-time low acceptance rate this year. That means only the best of the best were accepted – they chose you out of thousands of dance students across the country. If that doesn’t prove you belong here, I don’t know what does,” she cupped her jaw, making their eyes meet. “You, Vanessa Mateo, are talented, smart, beautiful, and if whoever’s judging this competition sees half of what I do in you, there’s nothing stopping you,” she saw a single tear slip down Vanessa’s cheek and kissed it away, then pulled back to gently run her thumb across the spot. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

Vanessa nodded sheepishly, shifting so she and Brooke could both get under the covers. “I’m sorry for waking you and whatever,” she mumbled, face buried in the crook of her neck. “I know I’m a lot to deal with, plenty of people say so, that I’m too messy and extra,” there was a pang of guilt in her voice. Just because she wasn’t the most well-spoken didn’t mean she was stupid – she knew how people saw her – someone that was loud and brash, that didn’t know when enough was enough. While she often wore it as a badge of honor, she didn’t want to scare off people she cared about – people like Brooke Lynn.

“You are, but that’s what makes you the Vanjie I’ve grown so fond of,” Brooke tilted her chin up and pecked her lips. “You’re unpredictable and over the top, but sometimes people need a little spice in their lives. I know mine would be far too boring without you in it, and as fucking crazy as you are, you still manage to win over everyone around you. Not a lot of people can do that,” she told her, kissing her once more.

“How d’you always know what to say to get me outta my head?” Vanessa asked. Her fingers aimlessly twirled around the strings of Brooke’s robe, occasionally pushing the fabric to the side to let her fingertips run across the exposed strip of skin that went from her navel to between her breasts. Even after finally knowing her body intimately, she still savored each and every time she got to touch her.

Brooke beamed affectionately, laying back onto the bed, allowing Vanessa to lay on top of her. “Because I want you to know that I’m in your corner, even if it’s us against the world,” with the exchange she had with Katya earlier in the week, she worried that might be the case, but she didn’t want her to see her sweat. The girl on top of her, who had come to her in distress in the middle of the night, didn’t need to be burdened with the potential damage their relationship could have on her own future, she had so much on her plate. “Now, do you think you’ll be able to get some sleep tonight?”

Vanessa looked up at Brooke and puckered her lips expectantly. After receiving another few kisses, she nodded. “I can now.”

----------

With October in full swing, a gentle chill had made its way through the New York City air. Gone were the sweaty afternoons and the bug-filled nights, and the rooftop track on top of one of the many NYU buildings was significantly less populated than it was only a week before. It was, however, occupied by Brooke and Vanessa, who took advantage of their down time to take a stroll, arms linked with their hands shoved into their sweatshirt pockets.

“You have to admit, competing on the roof is pretty cool,” Brooke remarked. It was only three days before Vanessa’s competition, and working through her nerves and her own frustration hadn’t been easy, but they liked to believe they had finally gotten to a point of comfortably coping.

“I could knock one of those other bitches off the ledge when no one’s looking,” Vanessa mused, looking out at the city skyline. “We’re pretty high up, you never know.”

Brooke sighed and let out a soft chuckle. “I don’t know how many times I’ve got to tell you that sabotage isn’t the answer,” she cooed. “Can you promise me you’ll be on your best behavior until this whole thing is over?”

“Absolutely not.”

That was what Brooke expected, if she were being honest with herself. “Alright come on, let’s get inside before it gets too cold,” she shifted and got Vanessa on to her back, piggybacking her until they reached the main level of the building, giggling the whole way down. She carefully placed her back on the ground, holding her hand as they started towards the door.

That was, until, a girl crossed their path out of seemingly nowhere. “Hey, you’re Vanessa, right?” her gaze was fixed squarely on her with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m Lily, we’re in the same competition on Friday,” she told her, holding her hand out.

Vanessa looked her over – ginger hair, cerulean eyes, a light dusting of freckles on particularly pale skin – she recognized this girl instantly. She had watched her performances online, and already considered her stiff competition. But she swallowed her anxiety and shook her hand. “Yeah, think I saw your name on the list or something. This is Brooke, she, uh, has been helping me practice,” this was technically true, and covered her ass, still unsure of how public to make their relationship.

Not that it mattered, apparently, as Lily hardly acknowledged Brooke’s existence beyond an “Oh, hi,” without taking her eyes off of Vanessa. “Anyway, I wanted to wish you good luck! Also, I’m having a party afterwards to celebrate, win or lose, you should come,” she then added “Your friend can come too,” with disinterest.

“Uh, yeah…” there was hesitation in Vanessa’s voice, glancing between Lily and Brooke. “We can stop by for a few. I love a good party,” that was a satisfactory answer, at least that’s what she concluded when neither of the other girls had a change in facial expression.

“Cool! See you at the competition, unless you’re practicing here before then, I’ll be around,” her voice was almost cloyingly sweet, but she hugged Vanessa before walking off.

Vanessa scratched the back of her head with her free hand, looking sideways as the girl left. “Huh, usually my competition’s a lot bitchier but she seemed pretty—ow! Are you trying to break my hand?” she asked, suddenly becoming aware of the death grip Brooke had on her.

“I don’t like her,” Brooke said flatly. It was the first time she had verbalized a negative opinion towards anyone to Vanessa, and her tone was devoid of any humor or sarcasm.

“Well shit, if she bothers you that much, I won’t practice here,” Vanessa shrugged. There were other gyms, and it was an easy choice between location and Brooke’s comfort as far as she was concerned.

There was a beat of tense silence, Brooke’s lips pressed into a thin line as she seemed deep in thought. “Oh no baby, you’re practicing here…but not til I’m done with you,” her stoic expression cracked into a smirk, bringing a sense of relief to Vanessa.

And when Vanessa found herself pinned to her dorm room wall, her head pressing firmly against the wood, she was much more than relieved.

Brooke was attacking Vanessa’s neck, leaving hickey after hickey on every clean spot of skin she found, moving from the edge of her jaw to the base of her collarbone. One hand kept Vanessa’s shoulder pinned to the door – as if she would’ve gone anywhere – and the other pushed haphazardly into her yoga pants, thrusting and scissoring two fingers inside of her and using her thumb to stimulate her clit. She didn’t breathe a word until she knew she had gotten the other off, then everything slowed to a halt. Brooke released the hold she had on Vanessa, then placed a chaste kiss on her lips – one that had felt so out of place after what had taken place. “Let’s see her try to ignore that,” she said out loud to herself, admiring the handiwork she’d completed.

“God damn, Brooke Lynn! You came outta left field with one, I love it,” Vanessa remarked as she caught her breath, padding after Brooke, who had already made her way on to the bed. She would have never anticipated such jealousy out of her, but if that was the result, she didn’t mind it one bit.

#branjie #branjie fic #branjie fanfic #branjie fanfiction #rpdr rpf

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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nobody knows where we might end up, chapter seventeen (branjie) - holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr: plastiquetiaras) | word count: 5317

AN: thank you so, so much for all the continued love on this fic. it makes me so happy and my heart so full. writ is a wonderful beta <3

(then)

“We’re thinking of staying late tomorrow after Respirology to practice for the bellringers. You in?”

Brooke shrugs at Steve’s question. “Sure.” It’s not like there’s anywhere else that she has to be, anyway.

“Sweet. We need your genius brain.”

“I’m not a genius-”

“Yeah Steve, she’s not a genius. She tried to push a ‘pull’ door like, half an hour ago.” Jon snorts.

“Hey.” Brooke swats Jon’s side, sticking her tongue out at both Steve and John when they start snickering. “Sometimes doors are hard.”

It only makes sense that Brooke’s naturally gravitated towards the other gays in her class. It’s nice, not having to hide anything around them. Not that she really has much to hide in the first place.

“Bring Vanessa this time. You never shut up about her, I wanna meet her.”

Steve’s question makes Brooke bite her lip. She’s been telling the two of them that Vanessa’s been too busy to actually come to any of their sessions, to ever double date. Except the truth is that she hasn’t even asked Vanessa in the first place.

Brooke doesn’t know what’s stopping her, really. It would be nice for her girlfriend to meet some of her med school friends.

Except her and Vanessa have been…weird. Brooke doesn’t want to bring up med school things because she can see the light dim behind Vanessa’s eyes every time that she does, a reminder that Vanessa didn’t get in while she did.

So maybe, it’s just better to ignore everything. Not talk about it. Walk on eggshells.

How hard will it be to do until the end of med school, anyway? At least until Vanessa gets in somewhere next year.

God, Brooke hopes that Vanessa gets in somewhere next year. For her own sanity, more than anything else.

“She’s real busy with fourth year. They’re having midterms right now.” Brooke’s not sure if Vanessa actually has midterms at the moment, but the timing lines up from when she herself was in undergrad. It’s not like she’s going to ask Vanessa, either.

“Okay, after then. Are the two of you the type of nauseatingly gay couple that can’t keep their hands off each other?” Steve punctuates his question by wrapping an arm around Jon and pulling him close by his neck, making him scowl.

“Get off me-“

“Never.” Steve leans over to ruffle Jon’s hair, making him immediately protest, muttering under his breath.

Brooke has to hold back a laugh. Jon and Steve are the boy equivalent of watching two Detoxes interact with each other. She loves the sight.

“Nah, we’re not like that. No overt sappiness.” It’s not a lie, not really. Her and Vanessa aren’t overly nauseating anymore.

So what if they used to be the couple that would make all of their friends pretend to fake barf from how soft they were with each other? They’re not the Brooke and Vanessa that they used to be. Brooke’s not quite sure who she has to blame for that.

Maybe herself, a little bit. For snapping at Vanessa the other day for being so bitchy and short with her when she hadn’t even done anything, for treating her like shit. But then she had also brushed off Vanessa’s worries about one of her fourth year courses, forgetting to help her with the assignment she was stuck on because someone in her class had thrown a party to celebrate finishing their first set of assignments. So what if Vanessa had already been asleep by the time she had come back?

Maybe they’re both to blame.

But it’s fine, they’ll be fine. They’ve been fine for three years and counting, and they’ll continue to be so.

Right?

“And here I thought lesbians moved in and got married after knowing each other for like, 48 hours. Breaking stereotypes and all that, huh?” Steve raises an eyebrow as he flips through the textbook in front of him, ignoring the way that Jon is poking his side for the fun of it.

Brooke snorts. “To be fair, we did move in together after first year of undergrad, but that’s only because we were both moving out of dorms.”

Steve gives her a look. “And?”

“And maybe we wanted to live together. God.” Brooke rolls her eyes when Steve points a finger towards her.

“Aha! Do you two have a hoard of cats, too?”

“Yeah, we have two-”

“So you two really are stereotypical lesbians. How wholesome.” Jon pretends to place a hand over his heart.

“Insufferable, the both of you.” Brooke can’t help her grin, though. Her friends may be stupid, but she loves them.

Brooke almost doesn’t want to go home when they finish off their study session in the library, the setting sun mirroring the feeling of dread that’s beginning to take over her chest.

Riley lets out happy yips when she unlocks the door, nearly falling over from how hard his tail is wagging. She rubs his belly, giggling as he rolls over.

“Hey.” Brooke calls out to their apartment. She’s not sure if Vanessa’s home or not. Truth be told, she hasn’t really looked at Vanessa’s schedule enough for this semester to know it well.

“Hey.” Vanessa’s voice is distracted as she types away on her computer while sitting at the kitchen table.

Brooke walks over to her, placing a kiss onto the top of her head out of habit and ignoring the way that Vanessa doesn’t turn around to face her and grin, the way that she always used to. It doesn’t matter, really.

“How was class?”

“Okay.” Brooke pulls out a plate from the cupboard, intent on pulling out leftovers. “Had a guest speaker. Some guy talking about patient safety.”

Brooke doesn’t elaborate much. It’s not like Vanessa’s going to care, anyway.

“You?” Brooke keeps it light, as light as she can, as if it’ll keep the delicate glass that’s built up between them from shattering and slicing them both.

“Still working on applications. Finished all my essays.”

“I thought you’d finished them all last week.” Brooke tilts her head, and can feel her brows furrowing because she remembers Vanessa’s whoop of delight and the way she had closed Microsoft Word with a flourish.

“I, uh. Applied to some more.” Vanessa doesn’t look up, keeps her eyes on her screen, though Brooke can see how she’s fidgeting.

“But there’s only a few in Ontario-”

“Outside of Ontario. Outside of Canada, actually.” Vanessa looks up at Brooke then, her expression one almost of challenge, of asking Brooke to protest what she’s said.

Brooke doesn’t want to take the bait, but she can’t help it. “Where outside of Canada?”

Outside of Canada would mean that Vanessa wouldn’t be nearby. But maybe Vanessa’s applied to schools near the border, ones that are driving distance and so they really wouldn’t be too long distance-

“California. LA.” Vanessa fiddles with her watch. “Got a cousin that lives there, finished school there. Big doc there. So I have an in.”

“Oh.” Brooke doesn’t know what else to say. California? Would Vanessa really go all the way to California?

“It’s just a backup.” Vanessa turns back towards her computer. “In case the schools here don’t work out. I’m not sitting out for another year again and falling even more behind.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Brooke can’t even deny it, because it does. Hell, if she hadn’t gotten in on the first try, she’d be exhausting all of her own resources, too.

But California.

Not only on the opposite coast, but in an entirely different country.

Vanessa wouldn’t go there unless she absolutely had to, would she?

Though what would really change? Things have been so off between them, Brooke doesn’t even feel like she can properly look Vanessa in the eye. Or hug her. Or kiss her or pull her close.

Hell, the last time they had sex was weeks ago and even that was after a particularly big argument.

Steve and Jon had teased her about the hickeys on her neck for weeks.

But Brooke doesn’t want that kind of sex, not right now. She wants things to just feel normal again.

Except that she can’t help the way that she heads off to bed without even waiting for Vanessa, tucking in early because she has a class the next morning.

Brooke doesn’t want to deal with all of the unsaid words that have built up between them. It’s gotten too fucking messy.

Maybe things will just fix themselves up on their own if she waits long enough.

Brooke’s tentatively excited when Vanessa suggests a movie night one breakfast over waffles.

“Maybe we can both take a break from our work?”

“I’d like that.” Brooke can’t help the smile on her face that builds, no matter how hard she tries to temper it down.

Maybe just spending some time together will make things okay again.

Except then later in the day her Endocrinology professor holds extra office hours to prepare them for the midterm, for which the line ends up being incredibly long, and then of course she strikes up a conversation while waiting with one of her classmates about the recent readings because the subject’s just so interesting, a conversation that continues once they leave the office. And then she’s forgotten about everything else, really, when Steve texts her and asks if she wants to join him and some of their classmates for a bite at the new burrito place, the one she’s been excited about trying. And by the time she gets home it’s nearly 10:00, and she’s forgotten all about the movie night that she and Vanessa had planned - a fact that hits her with horror as she opens the door to their apartment, the realization washing over her.

“Shit.” Brooke whispers it under her breath because there’s a pile of blankets by the couch, an untouched bowl of popcorn and she’s stupid, real stupid, because how on earth did she forget?

Vanessa’s not on the couch, either. Nor is she in the kitchen, or in any of the open spaces of their apartment. The door to their bedroom is closed and the sight makes Brooke wince.

Brooke drops her jacket and backpack on the floor without a second thought, pushing their bedroom door open and Vanessa’s there, leaning against the headboard of the bed and her eyes are wide.

“Where have you been?” Vanessa’s voice quivers and Brooke can hear the hurt in it and it makes her heart feel ever so slightly heavier, pulling her down.

“Sorry Ness, I-” Brooke pauses. “I got distracted. Things were happening with office hours and people in class and I lost track of time.”

It feels flimsy, despite being the truth.

“I got class in the morning, so it’s too late to watch anything now. Not that you probably even want to.” Vanessa’s face is buried in her book again and suddenly they’re back to their avoidance of eye contact and it makes Brooke grit her teeth.

“I said sorry, okay?” It’s not Brooke’s fault that things got busy. That’s just how med school is, something that Vanessa wouldn’t know.

“Real fucking sincere.” Vanessa huffs. “Look, if you don’t wanna spend time together, at least have the decency to not stand me up. I cancelled plans for this.”

Brooke pauses at that. “What plans?”

“Why do you even care?” Vanessa spits out the words and Brooke can see the fire in her eyes and somehow it doesn’t have the effect of lighting her up, but rather, cools down her insides instead. “You clearly have more important shit to worry about.”

“Next time I’ll put a reminder in my phone, okay? I promise I won’t miss it.”

“Fuck that.” Vanessa’s arms are crossed, as if she’s steeling herself, protecting her heart from anything and everyone. From Brooke. “If something ain’t important enough for you to remember on your own? There won’t be a next time.”

Brooke rubs at her temples because she doesn’t want to do this, not now, and so what if she’d forgotten? “Listen, med school is fucking busy. All I do is study and work and revise and my brain can’t remember anything.”

Vanessa leans forward, putting her book down and it nearly makes Brooke take a step back. “All you do is-you think I don’t work my ass off, either?”

“I didn’t say that-”

“You have no idea, do you?” Vanessa’s eyes narrow. “Just ‘cause I’m still in fourth year doesn’t mean that I’m not doing shit. I’m taking five and a half credits and still volunteering, still working in the lab, and on top of that applying again for all these stupid med school programs that probably won’t even accept me, anyway. So, yeah. Miss me with that bullshit. If I can at least still try to make an effort, so can you.”

Brooke can feel tendrils wrapped in anxiety and stress worm their way around her heart, because this isn’t what tonight was supposed to be like at all. “I-”

“Fuck it. I don’t care.” Vanessa puts her book on her bedside table, scoots down in their bed until she’s lying down and under the covers. “Go study with your friends, I don’t care.”

The hollowness in Brooke’s chest as she tries to fall asleep that night is only amplified by the hurt that she had heard in Vanessa’s voice, the sound still lingering in her mind hours and hours later.

(now)

Brooke misses Vanessa.

It isn’t either of their faults, really. Both the neuro and cardiac surgical units are starting to pick up, the surgeons working overtime to balance all of the regular scheduled procedures with the influx of emergency ones.

Brooke feels like she’s been run ragged, to say the least. She’s been on call for most of the hours that she hasn’t been working this week, catching hours of sleep wherever she can while still attempting to get all of her documentation done.

Weeks like these make Brooke feel like a firefighter, one who tries to put out flames only for three more to rise in their place. Brooke normally thrives in such environments - having to think on her feet, having to triage her cases so that the most urgent ones are dealt with first, functioning and doing brain surgery on approximately two hours of sleep.

No one’s ever said that the lifestyle of surgeon is easy. Though the paycheck does make it better.

VM: got scheduled for 2 ablations, 2 valve replacements, and 1 ventricle repair. Never done so many procedures in one shift in my LIFE

Brooke looks at the text and smiles, the way her face always has a tendency to do so whenever Vanessa’s name pops up. She’s glad, in a way; that it’s not just her. That Vanessa is equally busy over on her unit.

Brooke’s found that it’s difficult for those who aren’t in the medical field to understand the crazy hours, the topsy turvy schedules, where it’s possible to have long stretches of free time followed immediately by a slammed schedule with procedure after procedure and multiple on call shifts in a row. It makes it hard to plan, sometimes, to commit. She’s used it as an excuse more than once when breaking off flings in the past.

But it’s not like that with Vanessa. It’s doesn’t have to be, when Vanessa gets it, when Vanessa is going through the same thing as her.

Plus, she doesn’t actually want to break things off with Vanessa.

Not that they’re a thing.

Are they a thing?

Brooke doesn’t know.

All she knows is that she’s missing her throughout this busy period.

BLH: So many in one day! You superstar.

VM: fully taking a bow rn

VM: how’s ur day been??

BLH: Equally slammed. I’m about to fall asleep at my desk lol.

VM: nap on the clock, I support it

VM: I miss you :((

The text makes Brooke suck in a breath. She hasn’t wanted to be the clingy one, the pushy one, the one to scare Vanessa away with how much she still cares. But the text feels like an anchor, one that helps to hold her heart in place and calm it down and keep it in reach of her favourite person.

BLH: Fuck, Ness. I miss you too.

VVM: gay

BLH: I’ve literally had my face in between your legs more times than either of us can count.

VVM: g a y

VVM: but same. our schedules need to calm tf down so I can see ur cute face before I forget what u look like completely

VVM: that’s a lie I could never forget u

BLH: Gay.

VVM: HEY

Brooke lets out a little laugh, glad that she’s alone in her office. She needs to focus on her documentation, get all of her surgical reports dictated and out of the way but trying to focus feels absolutely impossible. Especially when talking to Vanessa is so much more fun.

It’s a couple more days before Brooke has the chance to see Vanessa in person again, before their schedules calm down enough to let either of them think about something other than work for a change.

Brooke is the one who suggests it when Vanessa drops by her office at the end of their shifts, pressing a kiss on her lips.

“You busy this evening?”

“No. Why?” Vanessa tilts her head with the most adorably curious expression, and it takes everything in Brooke to not pull her close and kiss her again.

“We’ve been working hard-”

“Working our asses off-”

“-and we deserve a break, that’s all.” Brooke grins.

“What are you suggesting?” Vanessa takes a step closer, wrapping her arms around Brooke’s waist, and Brooke can already feel the heat that’s emanating between them.

“Come over?”

“Ooh, Dr. Hytes, what a proposition-”

“Shush.” Brooke shoves her lightly, but can’t help but laugh when Vanessa lets out a cackle. “Not like that. Well, maybe like that, but also just to chill out, y’know? We both deserve it.”

“I’d be down for that.” Vanessa’s beginning to look excited by the idea. “We could order in and just watch some shit and veg out.”

“Exactly. Especially because our surgery is tomorrow. We can rest up.” Their joint surgery has creeped up on the two of them faster than Brooke’s expected. She’s excited to get the chance to properly work with Vanessa, after such a long period of planning and preparation. To get the chance to see how they function together in an operating room setting.

“Would this be considered a team bonding activity?” Vanessa asks the question as they tug on their coats, picking up their bags.

Brooke raises an eyebrow. “We’re the only two members from our surgical team that are taking part.”

“Good. That’s how I like it.” Vanessa leans up to press a kiss to Brooke’s cheek. “Now come on, are you gonna take me home or not?”

Brooke falls into step with Vanessa as they leave the neuro offices, walking towards the exit when Vanessa pauses. “Shit, my wallet’s still in my office. I’d taken it out to buy lunch. Mind if we loop back before leaving?”

Brooke can’t help her curiosity as they walk through the section of cardiac offices. “I never really noticed that the cardiac offices have red accent walls.”

Vanessa snorts. “Feels a little on the nose, huh? I guess they wanted to keep up with the heart and blood theme. Kinda nasty.”

“Makes for a cool look, though. Better than our boring grey walls in neuro.” Brooke runs her hand along the wall as Vanessa unlocks her office, grabbing her wallet from the desk.

“They should have given you pink accent walls for the colour of the brain.” Vanessa locks her office up again, and Brooke can’t help but interject.

“Actually, the brain isn’t really pink, it looks like that with the blood but it’s actually an off white colour-”

Vanessa gives her a look. “Really?”

Brooke smiles sheepishly. “You knew that, didn’t you?”

“We both went to medical school, you dolt.” Vanessa links her arm through Brooke’s as they head back down the hallway, before they’re interrupted by an excited noise in an adjoining office.

“Aha!”

“What in the hell-”

Vanessa’s words are cut off when Asia slides over from her office to the hallway while still in her desk chair, pointing between the two of them.

“Now what’s going on here? ” Asia’s smile on her face is absolutely delighted as she glances at their linked arms.

“What, two people can’t walk arm in arm?” Vanessa wastes no time in responding, and Brooke’s glad for it, really, because she doesn’t exactly know what to say to Asia on the subject.

“Not when the two of you have personally caused me inner ear damage from how much you used to yell at each other. So this is quite a change.” Asia leans back on her chair, crossing her legs.

Vanessa snorts. “You look absolutely ridiculous sitting on that chair in the hallway.”

“Don’t deflect. All I’m saying is that you two seem real close.”

“It’s nice, ain’t it?” Vanessa doesn’t give Asia a chance to respond, grabbing Brooke’s hand and tugging on it before breaking out into a run and yelling down the hallway. “We’re out, bye!”

They run towards the parking lot in a fit of giggles, neither of them able to contain their laughter.

“Asia’s so gonna be on my ass about that tomorrow. Worth it.” Vanessa bends over to catch her breath, grinning up at Brooke. “So, your place?”

Brooke’s struck by the ease at which Vanessa snuggles into her side after she puts their empty takeout containers on the coffee table. As if it’s the most natural action in the world, as if they never went through years and years apart from one another.

They still haven’t talked about it, about what they are, what they’re doing, but Brooke doesn’t want to be the one to ruin the spell that’s been cast between them. She likes spending time with Vanessa, and what if Vanessa has second thoughts if they talk about it and says that she doesn’t want to do…whatever it is that they’re doing anymore?

So, she’ll take Vanessa snuggling into her side, especially if she gets to wrap an arm around her, hear her let out a content little noise, one that Brooke’s sure she’d never tire of even if she heard it a hundred times.

An episode of Schitt’s Creek is playing on the TV, one that Brooke’s seen before and she’s not paying attention, preferring to focus on Vanessa’s reactions and giggles as she watches for the first time.

“I’m gonna start saying ‘ew, Asia’ to Asia the way Alexis always says ‘ew, David’. Imagine her reaction.” Vanessa lets out a snicker. “She’d beat my ass for sure.”

Brooke snorts. “I swear, your cardiac team looks like it’s all mayhem, all the time. You included.”

“Oh, completely. Though is the neuro team any better?”

Brooke pauses. “Not in the least, actually. They’re all insane. Seems like chaos is a prerequisite to ever be able to make it to a hospital job.”

“You got that right. Speaking of,” Vanessa sits up a little so she can face Brooke, “how are you feeling about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Brooke’s been trying not to think about it much, really. Surgeries don’t usually intimidate her. She can handle when complications arise, because she manages to keep complete control of the operating room and of the patient in front of her. Most of the time, anyway.

There’s something about doing a surgery with Vanessa, though, that’s making her more nervous. Biting her lip, fiddling with her hands all evening kind of nervous.

Brooke thinks that Vanessa might have noticed.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

“It’s going to be fine.” Brooke shrugs. “It’s going to be fine, right?”

At least, that’s what Brooke’s trying to convince herself of. She’s had complex patients before, ones where she’s had to work with surgeons from other disciplines, but something about working with Vanessa, working as a team, makes her nervous.

What if she lets Vanessa down?

“I see your head already zooming at a million miles an hour. It’s going to be absolutely fine, and you know that. I know you do.” Vanessa’s looking at Brooke like she believes the words coming out of her mouth, and Brooke desperately wants to believe them too. “Remember when I shadowed one of your surgeries when I first moved back here?”

Brooke’s not sure where she’s going with it. “Yeah?”

“Didn’t want to tell you back then, ‘cause you were acting like one cocky son of a bitch, but you were good. Real good. As in textbook good, even better than good type of good. You had everyone on your team working under you like a machine, you handled shit happening in the surgery like a goddamn champ.” Vanessa grabs her hand, squeezes it, and the pressure is grounding, somehow. “You got this. Take it from someone who’s already seen you in action. And you know my ass can’t lie to save my life, so I ain’t making this shit up, either. I don’t want you to start spiralling about shit that may not even happen tomorrow.”

“How did you know I was-”

“I know you, babe.” Vanessa smiles softly. “I know when you start overthinking. Also ‘cause your grip around me suddenly got all rigid.”

Brooke snorts. “That’s more of an obvious cue, huh?”

“Maybe.” Vanessa smiles and leans over, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Now let’s just think about how great we’ll be tomorrow.”

Brooke deepens the kiss because she can’t help herself and sure, they’ve both been tired and overworked but she hasn’t properly kissed Vanessa since that day in her office, and now that she has the chance, she’s going to take it. Brooke hadn’t been the one to initiate another, not wanting to overstep. But now that Vanessa’s here, in her arms, in her apartment? She’s going to take it.

Vanessa gasps into the kiss though follows suit, wrapping her arms around Brooke’s neck, and she feels like a ball of energy, a ball of light in Brooke’s arms. One that’s so responsive, one that wastes no time in straddling Brooke, trying to close the already miniscule distance that exists between them.

It’s too much all at once but Brooke just wants more and more, more of Vanessa because there’s no way she can ever get enough. It doesn’t matter that they’ve been sleeping together the last few months because right now it feels different - every touch just a little bit more electric, every kiss making her heart beat just a little bit faster.

It’s urgent, but not like their kisses in their offices, where they had been running out of time and were afraid of getting caught. No, this feels different. As if they have all the time they would ever need, and the urgency is to make sure that they make the most of every second, every moment, to make up for everything that they’ve missed. It’s a homecoming and a reckoning all at once.

Brooke grips underneath Vanessa’s thighs, standing them up and letting Vanessa wrap her legs around her waist tightly before walking them over to her bedroom. If they’re going to do this, then they’re going to do this right, because it’s not the same anymore. They’re not the same.

Brooke lays Vanessa down on the bed and the sight of her hair splayed around her head, eyes wide as her chest rises and falls with near gasps almost takes Brooke’s breath away. She leans down, presses kisses along Vanessa’s ribcage, feeling the way her breath hitches and it’s intoxicating, making her wish that she could just make Vanessa fall apart underneath her for a living.

Brooke brings her kisses up past Vanessa’s cleavage, her neck, along the curve of her jaw but then Vanessa pushes on her shoulder, flipping them over and suddenly Brooke’s the one flat on her back. Vanessa’s waves fall in front of her face, tickling Brooke’s shoulders and cheeks, little dots of starlight that light her up like the night sky. Vanessa takes a second to tie her hair back with the elastic on her wrist, before grabbing Brooke’s face with both of her hands and kissing her again and again and again, and it makes Brooke understand what it means to have the all the stars in the universe finally within her grasp.

Brooke almost wishes that she could pause this moment, right here. Commit it to a safe part of her brain to pull out when she’s feeling empty, alone, when there’s nothing left to push her to keep moving forward. Because this? Vanessa right here, right now, making her feel like she’s glowing from the inside out? Brooke feels like it could power her for days.

Vanessa presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, pulling back to look at her and Brooke can see the softness, the adoration in her eyes, the slight shine that matches the way Brooke feels her own heart ready to burst.

There’s a part of Brooke that still nags, still plants a seed of doubt within her, thorns that fester within her bloodstream that tell her that this isn’t forever, that Vanessa’s going to leave. That this doesn’t matter the way that Brooke so desperately wants it to. But then Vanessa’s hands are soft on Brooke’s skin, unbuttoning her pants and helping her slide them off along with her panties, before crawling in between her legs and kissing up her thighs, the gentlest of touches that make Brooke cant into her for more, more, more.

Brooke’s already a mess, already coming undone because there’s something about Vanessa that always keeps her on the cusp of tipping over. Of jumping off of the cliff that Vanessa’s already gone over, because Brooke would follow her down if it meant that she could stay with her, spend more time with her. Not worrying about having to leave.

Vanessa’s kisses turn harder, deeper, making Brooke squirm and she knows she’s going to have marks on her thighs, ones left by Vanessa that only she’ll be able to see, ones that remind her of this. That Vanessa’s been here.

Brooke’s hands tighten their grip in Vanessa’s hair nonetheless, because the teasing is too much and she needs more, she needs her. Vanessa takes the hint because she’s in a giving mood, all pretenses of taking her time beginning to fade and Brooke’s nearly gone when Vanessa licks up her slit.

It amazes her still, how well Vanessa knows her body. Exactly how to get her to the edge because she still remembers, and it’s a strange sense of deja vu, though one that is heightened, everything just a little bit sharper than it used to be. Because Brooke feels everything so much more, and it scares her that she never, ever wants to lose it.

Vanessa tips Brooke over the edge when she sucks at her clit, curling her fingers upward deep inside her and it’s a marvel, really, that Brooke had ever thought that she could get over her. Could ever forget her. Vanessa presses a gentle kiss to the inside of Brooke’s thigh after she comes, pulling her fingers back, and Brooke can feel the way that the action holds so much more, tugs more on her heart than any other girl she’s been with, the way it makes it clear in her head.

Vanessa’s it, for her.

And the way that Vanessa’s looking at her, eyes full of adoration and an emotion that Brooke can’t quite decipher as she crawls back up the bed, makes Brooke think that maybe, just maybe, Vanessa gets it, too.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #hospital au #lesbian au #holtzmanns #nobody knows where we might end up

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thisdiscontentedwinter · 6 years ago

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Baby Daddy - Chapter 6

You can read the rest here on AO3, or check out the Tumblr Chapter Index here.

Stiles checks his phone for Laura’s address. It’s on Lincoln Street, down in the old industrial area of town. It takes two different bus rides to get there, but it’s a Saturday, so it’s not like Stiles has any other plans. And Laura’s going to give him five hundred dollars upfront, whether it takes or not, so at least he can get the Jeep running again after this, right?

Surely the thought of that should be enough to overcome any performance anxiety?

Not that Stiles has ever jerked off thinking about his Jeep. Although, if he’s honest with himself, he has jerked off thinking about messing around with other people in the back of his Jeep, so it’s a starting point, right?

He wipes his clammy hands on his shirt, rechecks the address, and begins the long climb up the stairs.

Laura said her place was a bit out of the way, and mentioned it was a semi-converted loft, but Stiles is getting all sorts of horror movie vibes. Like, is this really the kind of place to bring up a kid?

But when Laura opens the door to him when he knocks, it’s actually not that bad. The loft has a kind of industrial-chic thing happening, and the concrete and brick look is kind of cool when it’s been offset by a few of the soft furnishings around the place.

“It’s a work in progress,” Laura says, gesturing at him to come inside. “Derek and I don’t exactly have an eye for decorating.”

Right. Her brother. Laura’s mentioned him once or twice, but Stiles hasn’t pushed. He’s Laura’s friend. If she wants to talk about her family, she will. If she doesn’t, she won’t. And Stiles likes her too much to rip those scabs off. He’s got scars of his own; he knows how it feels. But he casts his gaze around the loft for the elusive and mysterious Derek anyway.

“He’s sleeping,” Laura tells him. “He worked last night.”

“So you’re both night owls?”

“More or less.” Laura looks different at home than she does at the diner. She’s barefoot, wearing jeans and a baggy t-shirt, and her dark hair is loose instead of being pulled back in a ponytail.

“Cool,” Stiles says, just for something to attempt to cover his rising anxiety, and then winces internally at how lame he sounds. He gestures to the stairs. “So, um, is the bathroom that way?”

Laura nods. “Yeah. First door on the left. Do you, um, need anything?”

Stiles is so, so glad she didn’t ask if he needed a hand. Because okay, that would have been hilarious, but he’s really not ready to laugh at this yet. It’s way too fucking awkward.

“Nah.” He likewise resists the urge to tell her he’s an expert. “I’ll go and ah… do the thing.”

Laura nods, holding her hands in front of herself and twisting her fingers. She looks as weirded out and nervous as Stiles feels right now.

Stiles climbs the steps, his face burning.

He finds the bathroom easily enough. It’s old, but it’s clean. The shower curtain has sharks on it, and how weird would it be if he asked Laura where she got it? He’ll have money soon, right? He can splurge on a new shower curtain.

There’s a glass jar on the sink, the lid left off.

Stiles looks at it for a moment, and then looks at his pale face in the mirror, and then pops the button on the fly of his khakis and tugs the zip down.

Right.

He can do this.

He’s been doing this since he was twelve.

He’s a freaking expert.

Stiles closes his eyes, screws up his face, and tries his hardest not to think about the fact that, downstairs, Laura knows exactly what he’s doing.

***

Stiles steers clear of Laura for about a week after The Event. Mostly because he has no idea what the hell to say to her ever since he awkwardly handed her a jar of cum and then fled. He tries to get back into a routine. He goes to his classes, and spends most of his evenings at home with Dad.

“You’re not washing dishes anymore?” Dad asks him one night as they sit at the kitchen table eating dinner. It’s leftover meatloaf and vegetables. Stiles is looking forward to buying his dad a steak at some point soon. It’s been so long that he’s prepared to relax his restrictions on red meat.

“Nah,” Stiles says. “I got a little extra cash coming in.”

“Oh,” Dad says, in a neutral tone that Stiles doesn’t trust for a moment. “Doing what?”

“Tutoring one of the kids at school,” Stiles says, and jams a forkful of pasta in his mouth in what turns out to be a vain attempt to discourage further conversation.

“Tutoring,” Dad says, narrowing his eyes. “You’re not selling papers again, are you?”

That had got Stiles into a fair amount of shit in sophomore year at high school. But only because Greenberg was a fucking idiot and had complained to their Bio teacher that he should have gotten an A on his paper ‘because Stiles wrote it!’ Even though Stiles had specifically written a C paper so nobody would get suspicious. He’d even misspelled ‘organism’ as ‘orgasm’ three times, because that was a totally Greenberg thing to do. Stiles still isn’t sure if Greenberg really was that stupid, or if he just thought he was funny. Point is, Stiles got into a lot of shit over that.

“No, I’m tutoring,” Stiles lies.

“For what? Your accounting classes?” Dad is still suspicious. “You don’t even like your accounting classes.”

And hasn’t that been a bone of contention between them? Dad didn’t want Stiles to give up going to GWU, but Stiles knows he made the right decision coming back, because Dad isn’t up to looking after himself yet, and hiring someone is still out of their budget. But in the end Dad had agreed that Stiles could stick around—if only because GWU was suddenly out of their budget as well. Stiles had got a few scholarships, but Dad’s savings had been going to cover the gap, right up until Dad’s savings were swallowed up on hospital bills. But Dad had been adamant he didn’t want Stiles to give up on college altogether—probably suspecting that if Stiles skipped a year, he’d never get around to going back—so Stiles pretended to be super-excited about accounting at Beacon Hills Community College.

Dad saw straight through him of course, but they both kept the pretence up. Dad was already guilty enough about getting hurt and derailing Stiles’s plans to go to GWU, and they were both dealing with enough other shit without Stiles whining about how much he hated accounting.

Anyway, he can change courses next year, right? Change colleges too, if the damn insurance money ever comes through. He probably won’t change colleges though. After almost losing his dad, he wants to stick close.

“Not always,” he concedes now. “But I’m good at them. Anyway, I don’t need to go back to washing dishes is my point. More early nights for me!”

“Well, that’s good, kiddo.” Dad sounds genuinely pleased.

“Right?” Stiles grins, and tries to ignore the twist of anxiety in his gut. Because it’s going ot be weird, right? If Laura is pregnant. It’s going to be weird stopping in at the diner to study and seeing her with a bulging belly under her apron, and knowing that it’s his. Sort of his. Not legally his, but just because he’s already signed over his rights, that doesn’t mean he signed over his feelings too, right?

This is all maybe messier than he thought it would be.

He likes Laura. He wants to stay friends with her. Can he do that, when she’s having a kid he knows is his?

This is probably shit he should have thought of before he jerked off into a jar in her bathroom.

“You okay, son?” Dad asks him.

“Yeah,” Stiles says, stabbing another piece of pasta. “I am totally awesomely amazing!”

Dad isn’t fooled for a second. “Anything I need to know about?”

“No. It’s cool, Dad, I promise. Just… school stuff.”

“School stuff,” Dad echoes, like he knows it’s a total lie.

“School stuff,” Stiles repeats firmly. He stands up, grabs Dad’s empty glass, and goes to the refrigerator to pour him another juice.

It seems safer, somehow, not to look him in the eye right now.

***

Stiles clears his browser history just in case his dad decides to check it and discovers his most recent search is “How long does it take to know if you’re pregnant”.

***

Laura gave Stiles two hundred dollars as an upfront payment, and he keeps twenty back for groceries and puts the rest on the electric bill. It’s weird to think that in a few weeks he might have eight thousand dollars—minus his two hundred dollar advance. He can get his Jeep fixed, pay off the rest of the bills, and dedicate his spare time to phoning the insurance company and yelling at them. It might not get them to process Dad’s claim any faster, but at least it’ll be somewhat cathartic.

So the money will be great. Weird, but great.

Even weirder than the thought of that much money is the thought that Laura might be pregnant.

Laura is awesome. She’ll be a great mom. And obviously she’s got the money to raise a kid if she can afford to pay Stiles eight grand for his contribution. But he worries that maybe he should have asked more questions. Like why him? Laura’s young, and she’s pretty hot, and she’s funny as hell, and seems like an all-round great person. So why did she want a sperm donor? She should have eligible guys lined up around the block for a chance to ask her on a date.

Maybe she’s been in shitty relationships before and she doesn’t want to date right now.

Maybe she’s a lesbian. Or maybe she’s ace and she doesn’t want to have sex with anyone.

Or maybe she’s a strong, independent woman who don’t need no man.

Actually, there’s no maybe about that last one. That’s Laura alright.

So okay, there are plenty of reasons she might want to get a baby this way instead of the more usual way. The real mystery, Stiles thinks, is why she chose him.

Lydia Martin always said there was no accounting for taste. Usually though, she said it with extreme prejudice, and in regards to Stiles’s fashion choices. When she was feeling particularly generous, she upgraded his sense of style from “regrettable” to “peculiar”. It probably wasn’t much of an upgrade, to be honest, but Stiles likes to think that he was very slowly winning her over. It would have only taken another decade or two, max.

He really should text her, he thinks, and find out how she’s enjoying Harvard.

He’s lost contact with most of his high school friends since they all scattered on the winds of graduation. It’s even been weeks since he talked to Scott, and they’ve been inseparable since elementary school.

It’s been…lonely, at least until Stiles met Laura, and Stiles doesn’t want to make it all weird and awkward between them.

So maybe Laura has “peculiar” taste as well, and maybe that’s why she chose him, but one thing Stiles knows for certain is that, whatever happens, he doesn’t want to lose her friendship. Not when it’s one of the brightest things in his life at the moment.

***

Three weeks after The Event, Stiles turns up to the diner after Laura texts him, and she presents him with a pink Hello Kitty backpack full of money. The money is in stacks of twenty dollar bills. It’s hefty, and also feels illicit, like this is a drug deal or something.

“It worked?” Stiles asks, his heart pounding.

Laura gives him a brilliant smile. “It worked!”

“Wow. Um, congratulations, I guess!”

Her smile grows.

“So, how about a celebratory milkshake?” Stiles asks, pushing past his swirling emotions and concentrating on Laura’s obvious joy. “Turns out I can afford it now!”

She laughs, and Stiles thinks that yeah, they can do this. They’ve got this. This is all going to work out great.

***

Stiles gets home to find his dad sitting on the couch with a bunch of old case files and evidence boxes spread out around him within easy reach.

“What’s all this?” he asks curiously.

“Hmm?” Dad looks up at him, peering at him over the frames of the glasses he only ever wears when he’s deep down some investigative rabbit hole. “Oh, I called Parrish and asked him to bring them over. I’m climbing the walls here, kiddo.” He grimaces. “Well, not literally.”

Right. Because literally he can barely climb the stairs.

Stiles steps forward. It’s actually great to see Dad actually engaged with something after so many months of inactivity. Stiles was starting to worry that he was getting depressed or something. This seems like a positive step.

“So what case is it?” he asks, leaning forward to pick up a photograph.

It’s the burned out remains of a house.

Stiles doesn’t have to ask which one. It was on the front page of the local newspapers for weeks after it happened.

“You’re looking into the Hale fire?” he asks, his stomach clenching as he thinks of Laura’s joy-filled smile. “I thought that was solved.”

“The fire investigator at the time said it was an electrical fault, so Sheriff Knox wrote it off. That never sat entirely right with me, but I was just a lowly deputy when it happened.” Dad shrugs. “I thought, well, one thing I’ve got at the moment is time. Might as well poke around in the files for a while, right?”

“Sure,” Stiles says, swallowing down his disquiet. “Why not?”

#sterek #discontentedwinter #my fics #baby daddy

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lesbianfreyja · 6 years ago

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hey do u have any ways u force urself to write. i need to write this fucking faulkner paper and like ik i can and itll be good once i do it i just need to Do It its already like 900 years late. im loving yahfhskjd law so so so so much btw i rlly love ur characterization for den and the whole fic is just so endearing and enjoyable like theres heaviness to it but its not like overbearingly angsty and its just rlly fun to read

i have some advice but it might not be universal or healthy (lol) and it differs heavily based on what i’m writing

fic writing is for fun, and that’s why i try to remember when i’m doing it. sometimes it becomes obsessive (because i have ocd, and because i love validation, and that’s quite the line to tread lmao) but ultimately i do it because i love it/i have shit to say/stories drum in my fingers until i get them out, even if it takes time. i’m glad you love it!!!! if people didn’t i’d get demoralized way more often! with fic writing, usually i can’t force myself to do anything until i know the basics of what i want down - right now i’m stuck on a scene b/t charlie and mac because i know what i want them to get out of it, but i have no idea what the outside context of the overall conversation will be. usually in that case, i just have to wait it out.

inspo will come to me when it comes, maybe from binge watching the show, maybe from watching smth else, maybe from a convo i have irl or a dream or what have you. in the meantime i write as much around it as i possibly can. i’ve currently written every single scene for the next chapter that either came easily or at least didn’t come extremely difficultly, and once i have part of a scene down i usually let the characters’ voices follow me through the rest of it…sometimes you just have to let them run free. writing fic for me is often a solid push and pull of me nudging the characters down the path i want them to take, but mostly i just sit there and imagine them talking, and see what they say. i have to parse apart exactly how i think they’d say it, but i can get a fair amount of their tone and message just from listening to them have the convo in my head. not to be extremely embarrassing on main but when i was obsessed with twilight, stephenie meyer basically said this in her faq and it really resonated with me lmao. this applies to original fiction btw too. that’s why its often easy to finish a scene once i’ve begun it, if i can get a piece of the convo than usually i can build outward - give me a snippet of a convo and i can begin to see their location, what started this convo, and their motivations. i’ll have to trim it down to fit their tone/how often they lie/how difficult they find it to express themselves later, but after i get it all out, it’s easier to cut away the ooc parts until you’re left with glances to convey what used to be a paragraph and what have you

can’t write a sex scene? have a drink or two and write it all spelling errors and all, it’s usually way dirtier than i intended too but you can clean ALL that up and make it in-character in editing

academic writing was never nearly as difficult for me, especially once i got to college. pretty much everyone i know used adderall to write essays, and i sat down a few times expecting to do that myself, but i ultimately never ended up needing it. in high school i was smart enough to more or less make shit up to get through it (i always say the only thing i learned in high school is how to bullshit effectively) but in college you get to pick your research topics, or they’ll hand you a book and tell you to pick whatever part of it you want to write about, so i usually latched on to one snippet of interest and expanded from there (many of my essays were about how the characters were secretly gay or more or less feminist than they should be, as you can imagine)

i was never much for formal outlines, and i DON’T subscribe to the 5 paragraph essay format, but i usually made a basic outline in my notebook so i’d remember to hit all the points i wanted to make/be able to steer myself back on course when i started rambling abt something. usually i have an overarching point, and like 2 supporting arguments that i go into HEAVY detail about and probably have some supporting arguments about them within themselves. make an outline that lists your thesis and your 2 or 3 main points. if you CAN easily, write down some supporting arguments for those main points, but don’t get caught up on it.

how do i start? just sit down and fuckin start. deadass. tell yourself that if you finish before 8pm you can smoke a bowl or something, then smoke a bowl after you’re done regardless of the time. then sit down and just start typing, WHEREVER your mind wants to begin. let it, it’s way easier to follow your motivation than try to corral it, you’ll just end up giving yourself writer’s block

intros are easy. don’t worry too much about starting them; you can come up with a catchy first sentence way later (same with a catchy ending sentence; i still CANNOT write last lines for the life of me). for your intro literally just say: These 2 or 3 things are connected, actually, and I think they connect in a specific way to prove [thesis]. you can bulk out the intro later, but MOVE ON. that’s not the important part of the essay, at all. if your thesis can’t be turned into a question THAT YOU THEN ANSWER, then it needs to be bulked out. you should be able to make it a question, for example: Why is Emily Dickinson a lesbian? becomes “Dickinson’s lesbianism is the driving force behind her decisions to do x, y, and z” in which x y & z are the main points of your essay.

don’t worry too much about sources or quotes. i can’t tell you how many times i just made arguments in essays and then put in brackets [find a throwaway quote about x to support this later], then highlighted the text so it’d stand out and i’d remember to get back to it later. then MOVE ON.

don’t get caught up in anything, not grammar, not specifics, not finding the perfect segue between paragraphs. just try to get down everything you have to say FIRST, or you’ll bog yourself down and lose steam. sit there until you’re done making your points, then take a break

conclusions are easy. scroll back up to your intro. what does it say? put that back down, exactly, and bulk it out a little by referencing some points in the main paragraphs of your essay. if your intro just said “x y and z is true” then your conclusion should say “her woodcarving shows x is true, the fact that the moon was full that day is why y is true. these two things make z true”

go back and find sources/quotes to plug into all the times you wrote [find a throwaday quote]

TAKE AS LONG AS POSSIBLE OFF. if you try to edit and expand immediately, you WILL fail to catch things. if you’re a little unfamiliar with your own writing, you’ll be able to catch things like spelling errors, things that make so little sense you have no idea what you were trying to say, times you forgot to plug in a quote, or when a transition sounds a little like a record scratching instead of playing smoothly

if you’re really pressed for time: just fucking send it in without doing a second reread, because FUCK IT. getting it done is more important than perfectionism; fixing those last straggling spelling errors gets you +2 points whereas being a day late loses a letter grade

most importantly: WRITE ABOUT WHAT YOU CARE ABOUT. if you’re only getting specific prompts, try to twist it as best you can until you give a fuck about it, it’s WAY easier to write about shit that matters to you. i LOVED twisting prompts until suddenly this boring ass white boy book is secretly about this minor female character that appeared on 2 pages, and after awhile i got really fucking good at it.

just sit down and start writing. you’ve got to start somewhere, even if you end up erasing and rewriting the starting point later. at least you’ve got the ball rolling.

#not to geek out and go full english major but i miss writing argumentative essays #like medium key #holy SHIT!! why is this an essay in and of itself like you didn't even ask lmao #fic stuff #yl #college #book tag #anon #ask

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worryinglyinnocent · 7 years ago

Text

Fic: Devilish (9/10)

Summary: It all starts with a bra. Librarian Belle French is looking to start life afresh after leaving a toxic relationship. Photographer Aiden Gold is feeling old after learning he’s going to become a grandfather. Thanks to a lingerie catalogue named ‘Devilish’, a chain of events is set in motion that causes their lives to intertwine…

Rated: This chapter is T.

====

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [AO3]

====

Devilish

Chapter Nine – Wait For It

Gold was still sitting at the kitchen table in his pyjamas and robe, undrunk cup of coffee going cold in front of him, an hour and a half after Belle had left, staring at his phone and willing it to do something that wasn’t just sitting there staring back at him. When it did eventually buzz after so long inert, he nearly jumped out of his skin, and it was only once his heart had stopped beating at a pace akin to that of a sprinting racehorse that he realised that the message was not from Belle, but Ella.

He picked up the phone and read the message, just a little account of what she and Ursula had managed to get up to whilst completely tipsy the previous evening, no real substance to it, just wanting to share her antics. It was typical Ella, and it took Gold a moment of shaking his head before he remembered that Ella’s life had not been affected in any way by the events that had taken place overnight, and she had no way of knowing that his own world seemed ready to fall apart around his ears. There was something going on with Belle, something that he had no idea how to confront, and he really didn’t even know where to begin with an apology to her because he honestly didn’t know what he had done wrong.

Had he pushed her too far too quickly? That was the excuse that she had used before she had rushed out of the front door, that she had pushed too quickly. Perhaps there was something veiled in those words; had he mistaken her advances and gone further than she was comfortable with? Had she faked her orgasm in order to get it over with quicker? He’d never be able to forgive himself if that was the case, but he liked to think that he and Belle had a close enough relationship that she could just tell him if she wanted to press pause for whatever reason. Maybe he had been too wrapped up in his own feelings and pleasure to notice that she was getting uncomfortable with what they were doing, and once again, the spectre of the lecherous old photographer taking advantage of his beautiful model for his own selfish and lustful ends was hanging over him. Something told him that he probably ought to confide in someone and get a second opinion, but for all Ella was his closest friend, this was perhaps just a little too close to home even for her. What could he say? Hi Ella, Belle and I had sex for the first time last night and I’m pretty sure that she faked an orgasm and then ran out on me in the morning, how could I have handled the situation better? On the one hand, Ella was a woman and might have slightly more understanding of what was going through Belle’s head at the time. On the other, Ella didn’t know Belle as well as he did, and she was a lesbian who had possibly never been in the same situation as Belle had, with an older man trying and succeeding to get into her knickers.

He continued to stare at the phone; Belle had said that she would call him but she had given him no indication as to when, and although he was desperate to speak to her, he didn’t want to intrude if she didn’t want to talk to him at that moment in time. His fingers drummed anxiously against the wooden table top until the noise became so annoying that he just drowned it out into the background, and he felt the phone vibrate along the surface more than he heard it. Grabbing it up without looking, he expected a message from Belle. It was from Ella again.

Is something the matter?

Gold sighed. Yes, it was, but it was a bit hard to condense his scattered thoughts into a simple message, and in the end he decided to cut his losses, dialling Ella’s number.

“All right,” Ella said as she picked up, not even bothering with any preamble. “I can tell that something’s obviously the matter. Out with it.”

“Something went wrong,” Gold said, unsure how else to phrase it. “With Belle.”

“You’re going to have to define ‘something’ and ‘wrong’ in that sentence, Aiden,” Ella said. “What happened? Did you call her by the wrong name in bed? Because whilst a serious problem, that can still be worked around.”

“No, no. At least, I don’t think I did.”

“So, you have been to bed then,” Ella said, and Gold sighed.

“Yes. We have. And that’s kind of the problem. Belle, erm, ran away afterwards.”

There was silence on the phone for a long time. “Well, Aiden,” Ella said eventually, “I know that it’s been about a decade for you, but I wouldn’t have thought that your technique could have become so dire in that time as to send someone running for the hills. There’s obviously something much deeper at work here.”

“Well, yes, thank you Sherlock, that was most enlightening,” Gold spat. “I had actually come to that conclusion myself, so maybe if you could tell me what’s at work, I might have some hope of understanding why our relationship’s gone down the tubes overnight.”

“All right, all right, keep your hair on. Remember that I don’t know what happened between you and nor, may I add, do I want to know. You slept together and then she suddenly took off? There was nothing weird that happened before that, she just bolted for no reason?”

“Well…” That was sort of the shape of it. In a way.

“Uff.” Ella heaved a long sigh on the other end of the phone. “You know what, I think that this is a conversation that can only be had face to face whilst we’re both drinking enough whisky to completely block it from memory after it happens. So put some clothes on and get yourself over here. I think I’m still drunk from last night so there’s no way I’m driving.”

Gold sighed.

“Ella, I’m not sure…”

“Look, put it this way, would you rather have this conversation with Neal?”

“God no!” Gold exclaimed. He couldn’t think of anything worse than having this conversation with Neal, especially after the last conversation he’d had with his son when Neal had been encouraging him to go for it and not self-sabotage like he’d done so often in the past.

“Well, the only other person I can think of who you could have this conversation with is Jefferson, and knowing him, he won’t be awake yet, so you might as well hash it out with me.” Ella paused. “Aiden, we’ve been friends for years. I’ve seen you through two divorces and all the associated problems. Jokes aside, I think I can handle something going wrong in your sex life. You’ve listened to me talk about mine enough. Come on over, and we’ll see if we can’t sort something out.”

“Ok.” Ella did have a point; she was his closest friend and he did share pretty much everything with her. “I’ll be over in about half an hour.”

“I’ll have the coffee on ready. Along with tissues, ice cream, stupid romantic movies, the full works.”

“We haven’t broken up, Ella. Something just went wrong.”

“And you know what gives me hope that it can be fixed?” Ella said.

“What?”

“The fact that although you’re determined that everything’s gone down the tubes, you’re considering yourself still in a relationship. Now that, my friend, is what I call progress. You’re going to be fine, I can tell. Now get your rear end over here and let’s get you and Belle back on track.”

Gold knew that there was going to be no getting out of it, and as tempting as it was to just sit around and mope and wait for Belle to call, he knew that meant that he was not doing anything to repair what had gone wrong himself, and making Belle do all the emotional labour wasn’t really fair. He got up and went to get dressed; Ella had seen him at some low points in his life but things hadn’t got to the stage of him dragging himself to hers in his pyjamas yet. Her words had given him hope, and as he knew how invested Ella was in trying to make sure that he took this opportunity and made it work, her confidence in their joint ability to sort everything out gave him more hope.

Once Belle had returned home, taken a shower and had time to collect herself properly, she found that she was still in a complete quandary about what to do next. She kept staring at her phone as if it was going to jump up and bite her the moment that she moved away from it, and although she had told Aiden that she would call him, a small part of her was hoping that he would call first so that she didn’t have to make that call and try to explain what the hell had just happened.

When her phone did buzz with the arrival of a message, she pounced on it eagerly, only to find that the missive was from Ariel.

Are you ok now?

Belle shook her head, wondering whether she ought to lie and say that she was fine, or admit that she really needed help. Relationships weren’t her strong suit given her relative lack of experience in them, and she was floundering desperately. She had wanted to strike out on her own and become an independent woman, but at the same time, no-one ever got through life without accepting some help.

Not really, she replied. I don’t know what to do next.

Ariel’s response came less than thirty seconds later, and it was exactly what Belle was secretly hoping for.

Ok, don’t go anywhere or do anything stupid. It’s time for a girls’ conference. Don’t worry, we’ll sort you out.

Within a few more minutes they had worked out the logistics, and within a couple of hours, Ariel was sitting in Belle’s living room whilst she told her everything that had happened the previous evening - with some tactful omissions - up to her call with Ariel and her subsequent speedy departure from Aiden’s house. Although Ruby had quickly become a firm friend, she had decided that this was something best left to Belle and her closest friend to hash out to start with, so she had assigned herself to tea-making duty. Once Belle had finished her tale of woe, Ariel buried her head in her hands, which at least served to muffle the squeal of frustration that she gave.

"Belle, I thought I told you to talk to him!"

"I did!" Belle protested.

"No, you spoke about three sentences to him before you sped out of the door without letting him get a word in edgeways. That's not a conversation, that's you making excuses and running away."

"It's too complicated to explain to him." Belle sighed, accepting the cup of tea that Ruby brought over to her and curling her hands around it in the hope that they wouldn't start shaking. "And even if I did explain it all, where would that leave me? I mean, if he thought that I was weird before then he'll think I'm bonkers after that."

"Belle, please, you're not weird or bonkers, you just put yourself under too much pressure, and now you're freaking out about it. Ok, so you probably took that step before you were really and truly ready for it, but all that means now is that you take a step back and take it slowly again." Ruby reached across and patted her knee. "I'm sure that he'll understand that if you explain it."

"Yeah, but explaining that inevitably means explaining why I thought that jumping into something before I was ready was a good idea. All this time I've been trying to reinvent myself and become the person that I know I can be, but maybe that wasn't such a great plan and I'm not meant to be that person after all."

"No, Belle, I think that you are meant to be that person,” Ariel said. “Or at least, you are meant to become that person, but you don't have to do it all at once. You made a mistake, but that doesn't mean that it can't be fixed or that you've ruined this relationship forever."

“All you have to do is pick up the phone and talk to him,” Ruby added. “Just make a date to meet and explain in person if you’d rather do it like that.”

“I’d rather not do it at all.”

“Well, it’s never going to get sorted if you don’t talk about it. Even if you call him and pretend that it never happened and just go about your lives as normal, it’s still going to be hanging over you like the Sword of Damocles. Look, if you’re that worried about it, we’ll come with you.”

Belle wasn’t sure which would be worse; having that conversation with Aiden with moral support from her girlfriends or without it.

“I’ve had an idea,” Ariel said suddenly, and Belle felt rather scared for no apparent reason other than the brightness in Ariel’s eyes that made her think that perhaps this idea was not going to be a particularly good one. “Give me your phone.”

“What? Why? No!”

“Well, it’s obvious that you’re not going to call him, so if someone else dials the number for you, then that forces you to act. And you really need to act sooner rather than later, because you overthink everything so much if you’re not careful, you’ll be moving to Alaska before you know it. And Alaska is way too far away for us to come and visit you on a regular basis, so let’s prevent that if we can.”

“All right, all right.” Belle gave in, but continued to hold her phone out of reach of Ariel’s grabbing hands. “I’ll call him. But you’ll have to tell me what to say.”

“You know, this could be the beginnings of a great comedy movie,” Ruby mused. “We’re feeding you lines and you’re relaying them over the phone, and then we get into an argument amongst ourselves and you just keep repeating whatever we’re saying, leading Gold to get extremely confused.”

Belle glared at her friends. “I thought that you were supposed to be helping me out here.”

“We will, we will. I’m just kidding.”

Still not entirely sure of her friends’ intentions but at least confident in the knowledge that they weren’t actively trying to ruin her relationship, Belle dialled Aiden’s number.

“It’s a very interesting case.”

Ella and Gold were sitting on the sofa together, and Gold raised an eyebrow at Ella’s summation of the situation that had unfolded overnight.

“Interesting is really not the word that I would use,” he said.

“Well, you’re not an outside observer, so that’s natural,” Ella said. “But I don’t think that you did anything wrong. I think there was a lack of communication between the two of you, which looks like a it’s a common failing when it comes to this relationship considering how much second-guessing it took to get you two together in the first place. So naturally, the way to remedy this simple.”

“Do go on.”

“Talk. To. Each. Other.” Ella gave him a pointed look. “I know that you’re old-fashioned and set in your ways, but you spend an awful lot of your time photographing naked and semi-naked women so you really can’t be too much of a prude. You’ve taken that step into the world of carnal delights now so you’re going to have to talk about it. You can’t just do something and not talk about it.”

“I know. I just don’t want her to regret what we did. I don’t want to regret it either for that matter.”

“Because of course ignoring it is definitely not going to make either of you regret anything.” The sarcasm was dripping from Ella’s words and she rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I think that there might be loose connections between the logic and the impulse centres in your brain.”

Gold opened his mouth to respond, but before he could do so, his phone began to vibrate, showing Belle’s caller ID.

“Are you going to answer that?” Ella asked plainly, and Gold knew that any answer other than ‘yes’ was not the one that he wanted to hear, so he didn’t respond, grabbing the phone instead.

“Hi Belle.”

“Hi. I think we need to talk, about this morning. I’m sorry that I took off like that, I was completely overwhelmed by everything.”

“That’s ok, I understand.”

He didn’t understand at all, but he needed Belle to know that he didn’t hold it against her.

“No, you don’t. It’s more complicated than that. I’m more complicated than that.”

“Are you all right?” Gold asked. “If there was something that happened last night…”

“I’m all right,” Belle said firmly. “Honestly, I’m ok. Just overthinking everything at the moment. Can we meet somewhere and talk about it?”

“Of course. I’m out of town with a friend right now, but I can be back soon.”

“She can come here,” Ella said. “If you want neutral ground to meet on.”

“Is that Ella de Ville in the background?” Belle asked.

“Yes, I’m at her house. She’s invited you over. I think she’s even more eager for us to talk about this than we are.”

“Oh. Well, if that’s ok then I guess I’ll come over.”

Gold gave her the address, and once they had said their goodbyes and hung up, he wondered what the ensuing conversation would have in store for them both. Ella was looking remarkably pleased with herself as he stowed his phone back in his pocket and returned his attention to her.

“Well, that was excellent timing even if I do say so myself,” she said. “Now, with any luck, everything will all be sorted by tea time and I can break out the gin to celebrate.”

Gold rolled his eyes, not really in the mood to appreciate Ella’s humour right now and knowing that he wouldn’t be in a position to until this all-important discussion with Belle had taken place. All he could do now was wait for her to arrive.

About an hour later found Belle, Ariel and Ruby standing on the doorstep of Ella’s impressive townhouse. Ella opened it before they’d had chance to knock, as irreverent as ever, and she waved the ladies through into the hall.

“Come in, come in, let’s see if we can’t get you sorted out. Nice to meet you again Belle, Ruby, you must be Ariel, come on in. Ruby, Ariel, the drinks are this way, I’m sure that you’re in need of just as much alcoholic sustenance as I am if you’ve been listening to the other half of the story.”

She ushered Ruby and Ariel into the kitchen and gave Belle a nudge towards the living room, where Aiden was standing. He gave her a sheepish wave.

“You’ll be fine,” Ella said confidently. “Just tell each other the truth and you’ll get it worked out. He really is a lovely man once you get to know him, you know.”

Belle smiled, feeling her blush rise. “Yes. That I do know.”

She entered the room and heard the door close behind her, and for a few moments, they just stood there in awkward silence. It was less than a day since they had last seen each other, but the agonising period of worrying and overthinking that had come before made it feel like a lifetime. Eventually Belle decided that sitting down was probably a good idea, and Aiden followed her over to the sofa, sitting at the opposite end.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“So, I think that Ella and Ariel are probably going to lock us in here and not let us out until we’ve talked,” Belle said.

“When it comes to Ella, I wouldn’t put anything past her,” Aiden agreed, and the dry humour in his voice gave Belle the hope she needed that it would all be all right in the end, that if they could still laugh about things together now, then they’d make it through the strange conversation that they were about to have.

“So…” Belle twisted her hands together in her lap, wondering how she was going to even begin to explain what was going on in her head. “I guess you’re probably wondering why I took off like that this morning.”

Aiden nodded. “Yes, I was a bit. Please, if it was something that I did, tell me what I did wrong and I can make sure that it doesn’t happen again.”

Belle shook her head. “No, it wasn’t you. It was me. Like I said this morning; I pushed too far too quickly and got out of my comfort zone.” She sighed, it was probably better to just get it all out there in the open anyway. It was highly unlikely that she would have divulged her history with Gaston this early in their relationship in any other circumstances, but these were the circumstances that they were in. Best to begin at the beginning. She took a deep breath.

“Back when we first met; well, when I came into your studio in a panic, you said that you would never presume to know why I’d chosen to model for the catalogue, but that most women did it for a confidence boost. And you were right, I did. But there was something else to it. I’d just come out of a pretty bad relationship and I was looking to move on, and live life on my own terms for the first time in a long time. So I started doing things that I would never normally do, things that would take me out of my comfort zone a little, and make me feel like my own person after so long being an extension of my boyfriend.”

Aiden nodded. “I understand. That’s very brave of you.”

“Well, I didn’t feel very brave at the time, but once I’d done it, I felt great. And I was glad I did it because I would never have met you otherwise. I guess what I’m trying to say is that deep down, when it came to sex, I wasn’t ready for that next step, but I pushed myself to take it anyway because I thought it would be best. I just… overthink things, I guess,” Belle said. “All the time.” She gave a soft little huff of laughter. “You know, it took a hell of a lot of overthinking for me to pluck up the courage to ask you out that first time. I’m just constantly thinking of the worst possible outcome for everything, trying to second guess myself rather than just letting go.”

“It’s ok,” Gold said. “I can definitely relate to that. As Ella will attest, pretty much every single conversation we had after you rushed into my studio that day went along the lines of her encouraging me to date you and me freaking out because what kind of a photographer would I be if I went around dating my models. I was more concerned for my reputation than my feelings, or yours.”

“And I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. I was just so happy to be taking control of everything in my life, and everything was going so well that I just wanted to keep pushing forward and not look back, even though I knew that I was probably going faster than I was comfortable with. It just felt too good, and I knew that if I stopped and took a step back to think about it properly then I’d end up overthinking it and I’d never get back on the horse. But then when push came to shove and we actually got to the sex stage, I started overthinking it anyway, and then I panicked.”

“How did you panic?” Aiden’s voice was wary. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Belle said firmly. “No, you made me feel better than anyone’s made me feel for a long time. Well, forever, actually.” She could feel her face begin to flame with embarrassment. “Aiden, I’ve never had an orgasm with a partner before and I’m really used to faking it because my previous partner, well, he was an asshole of the highest order. I meant what I said about overthinking things and not being able to let go of them. I kind of started… overthinking my orgasm. And I realised I wasn’t going to get there, and I panicked about it, and so I faked it, and then I saw that you’d realised something wasn’t as it seemed, and I panicked again. So… Yeah. That’s what happened.”

“I didn’t know that you’d faked it,” Aiden said. “I wasn’t really sure what had happened, but I knew that something had happened, but then you seemed quite happy to carry on so we did. But then when you took off so suddenly this morning I was worried that something terrible had gone wrong and I’d completely misinterpreted the situation.”

“No. I guess we were both just panicking a lot. I was panicking because I thought you’d noticed so I just kept going because I really didn’t want to talk about it when, you know, we were naked and in the middle of it all. And by the time I woke up I started panicking again so I just ran away to avoid the conversation.” She paused. “There’s so much in my life at the moment where I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing, and…” Belle trailed off, not really sure where she was going with the sentence.

“It’s ok.” Aiden gave a little shrug. “It’s all pretty new to me as well. Like I said, it’s been a long time. But it doesn’t matter if you don’t know what you’re doing. I don’t care.”

It was a very reassuring and refreshing thing to hear after so long trying to be perfect for Gaston, and then trying to be perfect for herself, and trying to be perfect for Aiden even though he wasn’t demanding perfection, just because she didn’t want him to realise how imperfect she was. But the imperfections were all part of the picture. Belle had wanted to grow into her own woman, and that included all the various insecurities and hang-ups that she had yet to shed. She wanted to be her best self, and that meant being true to her best self as well, rather than pretending to be there. She had grown so much in self-worth over the past few months that she really couldn’t start letting a man dictate how she felt about herself.

That didn’t mean that she couldn’t keep her relationship with Aiden, she just needed to remember to do things on her own terms, not to push herself trying to prove a point that didn’t need to be proved at all.

“We can go at whatever pace you want,” Aiden continued. “I don’t mind, as long as we’re going somewhere. Because you’re the first person I’ve met in a long time who I want to go somewhere with.” He paused. “Well, that was incredibly eloquent.”

“It’s ok. I understand.” Belle considered it all. Being allowed to take the relationship along at her own pace was one thing, but the creeping fears that she had felt just before starting her relationship with Aiden were still there, that she was going too far in the opposite direction and calling all the shots like Gaston had always done. She shook herself. This wasn’t the same thing, she wasn’t controlling everything, she was just setting the pace. And as long as they kept talking to each other about it, then it was all going to be all right.

“Ella’s right,” Aiden said presently. “Communication really isn’t our strong point.”

“Yeah, Ariel and Ruby think the same thing. They were despairing of me earlier. Their definition of conversation and mine don’t add up, apparently.”

“But it’s all right now,” Gold said. “We’re on the same page. At least, I hope we are?”

The uncertainty in his voice was sweet, and Belle nodded.

“I want to make this work, and I want to make it work at my own pace, but at the same time there are a hundred other little warning signs flashing at me that I’m not supposed to be taking control, that a relationship requires two people working together. I don’t want to turn into a copy of the man I just left.”

“You won’t,” Aiden said. “I agree, a relationship does require two people working together. But it would hardly be a good relationship if you felt pressured into doing anything you weren’t ready for because you were worried about what I might be thinking. We can wait for as long as you want to wait.”

Belle nodded. “Thank you. So…” She reached out across the sofa, taking Aiden’s hand in hers where it was resting on the cushions between them. “I’m sorry I panicked. Can we pick up again where we left off?”

Aiden returned the pressure of her hand in his, squeezing her fingers gently. “Yes, I’d say that we definitely can.”

Belle inched closer on the sofa, leaning in for a kiss that Aiden readily provided, his free hand coming up to cup her cheek and tilt her head to the right angle. It was a soft kiss, one that spoke of hidden promises that were waiting to be unlocked, but that would keep waiting for a while longer. Although there was passion and hunger in there, there was no sense of desperation. They had all the time in the world, and there was nothing that could get in their way, as long as they actually talked to each other about their problems. As they broke away, Belle gave a little giggle and Aiden quirked an eyebrow.

“What’s tickled you?”

“Nothing really. I was just thinking about what wonderful friends we have, and how I think that they’re more invested in the outcome of our relationship than we are. We’re here agreeing to take things slowly and make sure that we’re on the same page before we go any further, but they were the ones that got us here together post-haste when they realised that something had gone wrong. They were determined that nothing should get in the way.”

“They’re very useful to have,” Aiden agreed. “If it hadn’t been for Ella, I don’t think that I would ever have had the courage to say yes when you asked me out on that first date.”

“If it hadn’t been for Ariel and Ruby, I would never have asked.”

“We owe them a lot, really.”

“It’s all right!” a voice called from the other side of the living room door, one that sounded suspiciously like Ella and that sounded even more suspiciously like she had had her ear pressed up against the wood trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. “Just make sure that you invite us to the wedding!”

Aiden groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face and looking for all the world like he was hoping that the ground would open up and swallow him whole there and then.

“Forget what I said about Ella being a good friend,” he muttered. “We don’t owe her anything.”

Belle just laughed, giving his hand a final squeeze before she went over to open the door, finding not only Ella but also Ruby and Ariel all clustered around outside it.

“Were you really listening to our entire conversation?” she asked.

“Not the entirety of it,” Ella said, affronted. “There were quite a lot of parts where you were talking too quietly for us to make out what was going on.”

“Ella, don’t make it worse,” Ruby said. “You already gave away our position.”

“Well, considering what’s at stake, I think we deserve to know that everything’s working out all right,” Ella said. “Besides, it’s my house, so I get to listen at all the doors. It’s not eavesdropping in your own home.”

“Well, everything’s all right, thank you,” Belle said.

“Excellent news, I’m very glad to hear it. I think that this calls for celebratory gin and tonic all round. I’ll mix.”

Ella sauntered away towards the kitchen completely unashamed of her antics, leaving Ariel and Ruby looking a little bit sheepish.

“Well, you have to admit, you’re not the greatest at communicating,” Ariel said. “So we were ready to swoop in and save you from yourselves if something went incredibly wrong.”

“Your concern for us is touching, if somewhat worrying.”

Ella returned with a tray of glasses and bottles of gin and tonic and set them on the coffee table.

“Really, Ella?” Aiden said. “The sun’s not over the yardarm yet.”

“And since when has that stopped us?” She poured a generous measure for herself and Ariel and chinked the two glasses together. “To a crisis well-avoided.”

Her opinions of Ella’s timing aside, Belle had to echo the sentiment as her hand found Aiden’s and squeezed tightly, and she felt him return her grip.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #Belle French #Mr Gold #Cruella de Vil #Fic: Devilish

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sapphicscholar · 7 years ago

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guurrrrlll please write an AU where Maggies's a bartender and loves mixing cocktails and gives them all the dirtiest names. Alex's the regular who loves the drinks but also hates and glares every time she has to say "I want Sex On The Beach," to a grinning and trying-to-wink Maggie. (Maggie recommends Alex have a Screaming Orgasm(both the cocktail and well you know). "...That's not on the menu." "I know.") i would love you forever

I just posted it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10724550/chapters/28002141 (and if you’ve got thoughts or comments, I always love to hear them!)

A/N: Well this was a damn delightful ask (and a nice antidote to all of the preemptive angst going around about Sanvers that, even if justified, was making me sad), so enjoy some fluff and crack with the lesbian bartender of our dreams

A/N 2: So I know Supergirl comes out tonight and some people are still excited to watch (or at least going to watch). I don’t have a TV or cable, so I don’t get to watch until the next night at the earliest. It would mean a lot to me if you wouldn’t leave spoilers in the comments section here or in any asks on Tumblr (even though I don’t really go on Tumblr on Tuesdays to avoid them, I still get the notifications on my phone). So if you want to ask about fix it fics or anything, just wait until Wednesday or so? I’m also not committed to writing too many because I have so many other prompts still in the queue (and have a few work deadlines coming up this month and next that will leave me with very little time for writing). Thanks in advance for your understanding!

Chapter Text:

“You sure you don’t want to come out with us?” Kara asked, looking up at her big sister with wide eyes and her signature pout.

“I’m tired tonight—you should go have fun with your friends. But I promise, I’ll be there with Ben and Jerry’s in hand for sister night tomorrow!”

“Okay, fine,” Kara huffed, turning back to Winn and James before heading out with one last glance back at Alex. It wasn’t as though Alex couldn’t have a social life or some time on her own, but more than once this month, Kara had flown by her apartment to check in on her after she’d opted not to come to Noonan’s with her and the guys only to find her apartment empty. The next mornings, Alex had talked about turning in early like she’d actually been at home and in bed, and Kara was beyond convinced it meant that Alex was dating someone—a point she was resolved to investigate.

Once Kara, James, and Winn were gone, Alex headed down to the locker rooms to change out of her DEO uniform and into a pair of dark jeans, simply throwing a leather jacket on over a t-shirt. It wasn’t like her bar of choice had a particularly strict dress code. In fact, the few times she’d shown up in her FBI disguise, she had gotten more than a few curious glances, though she liked to think that the bartender appreciated the blazers… Not that she’d ever admit to caring about what the bartender thought. Sure, she happened to go only on the days when she knew the woman would be working, but it was because she made the best cocktails. It had absolutely nothing to do with her dimples or her deep brown eyes or the flirty comments or the way “Danvers” just seemed to roll so easily off of her tongue, making Alex wonder what else might sound (or feel) perfect on that tongue. No, it definitely had nothing to do with any of that.

Maggie looked up, a lazy grin spreading across her face at the sight of her favorite fed. Well, the woman hadn’t confirmed she was a fed, but those suits? The stick-up-the-ass attitude? The refusal to talk at length about any of her personal life, even to a bartender? It all screamed fed. And secret agent fed, at that.

“Danvers!” Maggie called out, smiling just wide enough to ensure that her dimples were on full display. “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” Alex grunted, sliding into a barstool far away from any of the groups of patrons. It helped that the bar wasn’t overly crowded, especially on weekdays. She made a point of avoiding it on Friday and Saturday nights when they brought in live music that attracted a distinctly younger and louder crowd, but happy hours, well, the people here weren’t exactly the type out there schmoozing and handing off business cards with promises to find areas where their companies’ mission statements might “productively sync up.”

“Did you catch the board with today’s specials?”

Alex looked up and glared at the woman. She knew damn well how much she hated the specials, but they were the best drinks on the menu, and everyone knew it. As much as Alex hated the woman for the names she gave her drinks, she couldn’t quite resist the temptation to order them.

“I’ll take your stunning silence as a no.” With a grin a mile wide, Maggie slid down one of the small chalkboard-style slates she used to write up her daily specials each morning. She watched with excitement as Alex’s cheeks colored a faint pink as she made her way down the menu, knowing they only got dirtier as the list went on.

Finally Alex held up the menu. “I’ll take one of these.”

“Which one is that, Danvers? You know, I’m not wearing my glasses—can’t see too well.”

“We both know you don’t wear glasses, Sawyer,” Alex huffed.

“We’d know that if you ever took me up on that offer to come peruse the drink menu back at my place,” Maggie flirted, leaning over the bar and propping her head up in her hands.

“Nice try.” Alex hated the way her stomach swooped slightly at Maggie’s close proximity. The woman was a pain in the ass—certainly not someone who should make her feel anything as childish as butterflies.

“One of these days, Danvers! One of these days… So, what’ll it be?”

“Sex on the Beach,” Alex mumbled, the board held in front of her face.

“Couldn’t hear ya. Come again?”

“Sex on the Beach,” Alex grumbled, glaring at Maggie.

“One more time—just a little louder.”

“I said I want a Sex on the Beach!” Alex snapped, blushing and scowling when she realized she’d drawn the attention of a few of the patrons seated nearby.

“You know, I’d have thought maybe you’d want to come back to my place first, but we can skip the foreplay and head right down to the beach if that’s what you’re into,” Maggie teased, already turning on her heel to make the drink before Alex could storm out of the bar. There had been a close call once during Alex’s first few weeks here—Darla’s teasing presence hadn’t helped matters in the slightest, since they both egged each other on, and it wasn’t like their normal customers minded…in fact, they tended to join in on the fun.

But Danvers…no, she was special. And it just made it that much more fun to get under her skin. Of course, she’d rather get under her shirt, but she wasn’t about to make the woman uncomfortable with any real propositions unless she ever gave any indication that she was into it. There had been one night when Maggie felt that something had shifted. Alex had stormed in looking a little more angry than usual in an outfit that looked like it’d been made out of pure spandex showcasing a body that could have been sculpted by the gods. For once, there had been no hesitation when she spit out her order, and after a drink or two, she seemed to relax, seemed to soften with the more gentle teasing Maggie had adopted that night. She stayed through closing and, despite Maggie’s assurances that she could just rest in a booth, helped to clean up, collecting glasses that had been left by some of the stragglers Maggie eventually had to shoo out of the bar. When they finally left, Maggie promising to get Alex a cab and make sure she got home safely, Alex had leaned into her space slightly, her breath smelling faintly of the peach mojitos Maggie had served on the menu that night, and actually smiled—not just the half-smile that too often accompanied her eye rolls. With a hand on Maggie’s shoulder and her lips hot against Maggie’s ear, she’d whispered, “You’re not so bad, Sawyer.” Of course, then she’d kept her distance from the bar for a full week before coming back and acting like nothing had changed. It had—Maggie knew it, could feel it somehow, even if Alex still glared and scowled and rolled her eyes in exasperation with Maggie’s antics—but she let Alex go on pretending like they didn’t know that Alex’s frustrations with her were, at least in part, just for show.

—

In between sister nights and a few long missions, Alex didn’t make it back to the bar for over a week, finally strolling in, trying not to wince as every movement seemed to jar the bruises that climbed higher and higher up her ribcage.

“Danvers! It’s been a hot minute. Thought maybe I finally scared you off.” And as casual as her tone was, Maggie had actually worried—less about the idea that she scared Alex away (they’d been at the odd teasing game for too long now) and more about the idea that her fancy fed job had somehow put her in the line of fire. Judging by the almost imperceptible limp to her walk and the way she slid into the barstool from the left, rather than the right like she normally did (not that Maggie was watching), Maggie thought her suspicions were probably right.

“Don’t scare that easily, Sawyer.”

“Nah, didn’t think you would. So, in honor of your bravery, what’ll it be?”

Alex scanned the menu, too used to the drink names to really be shocked. Though she did wonder how in the world the woman came up with the sheer number of names—perhaps there was some kind of book: the compendium of sexually charged drinks. “I’ll have a margarita.”

“Which one?” Maggie asked, trying (and failing) to look innocent. After all, she put three different margaritas on the menu just in case Alex came in and wanted to try to order the easy way.

“This one,” Alex said, gesturing at the second one down on the list.

But, anticipating her move—they would work so well together, Maggie thought, already in sync—Maggie had turned back to the glasses and begun pulling out ingredients. “Which one?”

“The…” Alex paused, checking the drink name, “The Big Lez.” She couldn’t help herself from asking, “What exactly does that have to do with a strawberry and lime margarita, Sawyer?”

“Ah, well, you see, Danvers: it’s served in a large glass—hence the big. And the woman who makes it—me—well, I’m a lesbian. Now, I suppose you might classify me in the ‘small’ category, but I assure you, I have plenty of things that could be classified as big—”

“Okay! I already regret asking.”

Maggie bit her lip to stifle a laugh at the red flush that had crept up Alex’s chest, even though she maintained the expression of affected displeasure. “If you were uncomfortable ordering it, you always have the option of the Bi-Bi-Blue raspberry margarita or the Ally—it’s not as tasty, but we’re happy to serve it.”

Alex let out a snort of amusement before schooling her expression into a neutral one, but Maggie had clearly heard if the gleeful look on her face was any indication. “I think I’ve ordered correctly.”

“Mm, is that so?”

Alex just raised her eyebrows and waited for Maggie’s curiosity to get the better of her and bring her back down to her end of the bar with more questions. As it turned out, the Big Lezs really were big, and after two, Alex found herself slightly more talkative and open than she usually was.

“This is pretty delicious,” Alex told Maggie on her loop down the bar.

“Is that so? Shall I send my compliments to the head lez who crafted it?”

“That’s you,” Alex snorted, her words slurring ever so slightly—but enough that Maggie dropped off a complimentary basket of fries on her way past the next time. After all, it was a Monday, and surely hangovers wouldn’t mix well with federal agent work.

“That it is, Danvers,” Maggie laughed.

“Me too—did you know that?”

“You too what?”

“I’m also a head lez. Well…second-in-command lez, really.”

“Want to tell me where?”

“Nope,” Alex shook her head, the corner of her mouth turning up slightly.

“Worth a try,” Maggie shrugged, leaving before Alex could reveal something that she might not be all that comfortable having said in the cold light of day. Not that she really thought Alex would be the type to accidentally leak information, but, in all fairness, those margaritas really were large…

—

“Sawyer,” Alex greeted, for once getting all the way over to the bar before Maggie noticed her.

“Hey, I got a little worried when you didn’t show up after Monday’s margarita adventures.”

“Oh, so you can call them margaritas, but I have to give them a fancy name?”

“Well they’re not specials anymore,” Maggie clarified, shooting a shit-eating grin in Alex’s direction. “But you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. Needed a few days without any of your potent cocktails, but I’m back now.”

“Glad to have you—the bar’s never the same without you.” It was supposed to be flirty, slightly teasing, but Maggie worried it came out sounding quite a bit more sincere and sentimental than that.

“Bet you say that to all the pretty girls,” Alex said, handily deflecting the tension and offering Maggie a small smile like she knew exactly the out she was handing her.

“Bartender’s secret.” Handing over the daily menu, Maggie made her way back down the bar to finish getting a few drinks out that she’d been working on when Alex called out to her and drew her attention away from them.

Eventually she made her way back to Alex, checking in on the few patrons she saw along the way. “Any questions about the menu?”

“Not today, not ever.”

But, as it turned out, Alex did have a question. “Alright, fine. What makes this drink different from the usual version?”

“Which one?” And this time Maggie really was distracted, slinging a round of beers down the bar to a group of guys that had stumbled in asking if they were screening the game and stuck around for the delicious-smelling burgers despite the lack of TVs.

“Maggie’s Buttery Nipple,” Alex drawled, trying not to roll her eyes.

“What makes you think mine are different? Do I give off some kind of vibe that screams: ‘Ask me about my weird nipples’?”

Alex let out a sigh of frustration. “Is it just a regular Buttery Nipple?”

“The drink? Oh yeah, for sure. But I make it.”

“Fine, then one of them. I’ve gotta get out of here pretty soon to meet up with a few friends.” She didn’t mention that she was actually supposed to have met up with them a few minutes ago, and that Lucy would absolutely grill her on her whereabouts. But she didn’t want to go a whole week without dropping by—just because she didn’t want Maggie to think she was dead, that’s all; the woman seemed to worry more than the average bartender.

“You didn’t want to invite them here?”

Alex shook her head; this place was hers, special somehow in a way that she didn’t need her friends seeing. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that putting Lucy and Maggie in the same room would either end up with the two of them going home together or teasing Alex mercilessly—or some combination of the two.

“Alright, well, one of my Buttery Nipples coming right up to tide you over before you can see me again.”

Groaning softly, Alex buried her head in her hands, wondering why so many of her friends had to be like this.

—

“How were the other friends and the bartender you’re clearly cheating on me with?” Maggie asked when Alex sat down a few days later.

“They were good. The other bartender just couldn’t compare, though,” she laughed, figuring Maggie deserved something to brighten her day. It was true too; Maggie’s drinks were some of the best kept secrets in National City. And the beaming smile she got in return made everything worth it.

“No, they never do…” With a shrug and a smirk, Maggie slid a menu down the bar to Alex, watching as she skimmed the drink list. As soon as she saw Alex’s eyebrows scrunch together in clear confusion, she waltzed back over. “Got a question, Danvers?”

“I just…I don’t think I want to know.”

“Of course you do. Hit me!”

“If I could do that, maybe I’d find you slightly less insufferable,” Alex huffed, though Maggie just laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, ask a girl about her kinks first.”

With a small spluttering noise, Alex turned her attention back to the menu. “Should I even ask about the Flaming Homo? Is that its name simply because you made it, and you’re a flaming homo?”

“Damn, that’s quite the assumption you’re making.”

“What? No, you’ve literally told me—”

“Relax, I’m just being an ass.”

“Ugh, you always are.”

“Being an ass, having an ass—and a great one at that—really, it’s such a gray area…”

“You gonna tell me what this drink is or just keep talking out your apparently great ass?”

“So glad we agree on that bit. Now, the Flaming Homo is made by a homo, yes, but it’s also on fire. I mean, you should blow it out before you drink it, but it’s served flaming. Though, between you and me, I wouldn’t recommend it. Just two of them will have you passed out in the street.”

“I can handle my liquor.”

“This was on the menu for my friend Brian’s bachelor party, and his 6’4” best man didn’t remember a single moment of the night after three. He also woke up a state away married to one of the other groomsman.”

“Oh. Um, perhaps not that one. Not that I couldn’t handle it!”

“Of course not.”

“Why don’t you surprise me,” Alex offered.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Know what I think you would just love from me?”

“What?” Alex asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“A Screaming Orgasm.”

“It’s not on the menu.”

“Well, no, Danvers, I don’t make that offer to just anyone.”

“You are talking about the drink, right?”

“Yeah, sure, that too.”

“Do you ever stop running your mouth?”

“You see, I’ve found most women prefer when I’m using my mouth—” But Maggie found herself being cut off when Alex reached forward and tangled her fingers in her hair, dragging her forward and kissing her soundly. After a moment of shock, Maggie let herself respond in kind, feeling months of pent-up tension being channeled into their kiss until they finally had to pull away, both of them breathless, their chests heaving slightly.

“Damn, I’d say buy a girl a drink first, but I guess you’ve been buying drinks from a girl for a while now…”

“Seriously, do you ever stop?”

“Behind the bar? Absolutely not.”

“What about outside of the bar?”

“Why don’t you let me take you on a date and find out?”

After a moment—really, Maggie deserved to feel a little nervous for all her cocky bravado—Alex finally nodded. She scrawled her number on one of the cocktail napkins and slid it across the bar, watching as Maggie tried to hide her excited grin behind a self-assured façade once more. “Don’t let me down.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#sanvers #bartender au #alex x maggie #bartender!Maggie #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #fluff #crack #supergirl #fanfic #prompt fill #ao3feed

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babybearhayley · 7 years ago

Text

This is gonna be long. Really long. Read at your own risk

So I haven’t posted in a good long while. Not really. I’ve been kind of hiding. I’ve had... A lot go on these past couple of weeks. Months... Don’t really know where to even begin. Trigger warning. Suicide, self harm, abuse (verbal, emotional, mental)

My daughters father killed himself back in October. No warning, no note, no nothing. I got the phone call from his brother, telling me he was missing. Hadn’t been seen for a few days. I was worried, but I figured maybe he just needed some alone time. He was like that sometimes. That afternoon, I got another phone call... And my heart shattered. I had just picked her up from daycare and put her in the car. And he called me and told me that my ex was dead... I got out of the car. Crying, screaming, asking why. The teacher had to come out and get Shilo and take her back inside until my mom got there. A stranger in the parking lot hugged me and held me. Told me it was going to be okay. It’s not okay.

My mom started a fundraiser page and made enough money to get us to NY for the funeral. We were there for a few days. I met his family for the first time. So did Shilo. They gave me a bag of his stuff. Some clothes, a necklace he had bought me while we were together. Stuffed animals for Shilo. Going through that bag killed me. It still does. I hugged them all so tight. We cried. I still loved him. I knew we were never going to work out, and I didn’t exactly want him back, but I still loved him. I still had love for him. It’s not fair. His brother took me to the tree. My dad didn’t think it was a good idea. Maybe it wasn’t, but I did it anyway. I could see the scuff marks on the ground from where the cut his body down and moved him. I stood where he took his last breath. I wanted to take my last one, too. Right there, where he had been. I wanted to just let go and be gone. Be with him one more time. That didn’t happen.

Shortly before he killed himself, I began dating someone else. He of course took a protective role, saying he better not ever hurt his daughter. At the time, the comment made me angry. Now, not so much. Maybe I should have listened.

When he killed himself, I went to my boyfriends house that night. I needed to be away from Shilo so I could cry. She still didn’t know what had happened yet. I didn’t know how to tell her. So she saw me upset and didn’t know why. I just needed to be away from her to get it out of my system. I walked through the door and his mother hugged me. I broke down into tears. My boyfriend turned the game he was playing off and held me. I think that was the only time I felt comforted by him. He knew my past with cutting and self harm. And I wanted to cut bad. Really bad. He gave me a tattoo instead. And ended up giving me a staph infection. Lesson learned.

Not long after, I find out he’s cheating on me. I get upset. Because he promised he wasn’t like the others. That he wouldn’t do that. Bullshit. I confronted him about the messages. He said they were old. Some were two and three days old, but they weren’t that old. Not old enough. I was hurt, but I stayed... Because he promised me it would never happen again. Bullshit.

He would always tell me I was on my phone too much. I use my phone as a crutch when I don’t feel comfortable. Maybe I am on it too much. But he blamed the entire relationship failing on the phone. Which is a joke. But I told him I would be on the phone less. Things were good for a while. But every time I picked my phone up, it was like he would get an attitude.

We had fights. Some bad ones. At one point we sat on his bed and argued and things got heated and for a moment I thought he might actually hit me. I leaned back, just in case.

Even when he was the one who did something, I was always the one going to him, saying sorry, trying to hug on him and kiss him, telling him things were going to be okay and we were going to work things out.

He cheats. Again. I’m so close to leaving his house. I was about to take my daughter and get in the car and leave. But he came out of the shower before I could go. He once again tells me the messages are old. I say no, you sent some of these last nights while we were watching our movie. That’s why you wouldn’t come sit next to me. Cause you didn’t want me to see the messages. He gets mad. Once again, I’m the one crying and trying to make things work. He tells me he feels neglected and if I would just get off of my phone he wouldn’t feel the need to message other girls. It pisses me off, but I say nothing.

We were in a car wreck. It wasn’t my fault. Someone turned left in front of me. I tried to miss them, and slammed on breaks, but I still jumped the curve and hit a utility pole. I totaled my car. Both air bags went off, hit me and him in the face. I was dazed for a second and then jumped out of the car and ran to the other side to get Shilo. I get her out, check her over. She’s fine. He is in pain. It wasn’t until EMS got there that I realized my back was hurting. He and I are taken by ambulance to the hospital, my mom and dad take my daughter. We get checked out, and everyone is fine for the most part. My back was messed up, and so was his, and some bruising to his ribs and a concussion from his head hitting the window. But we were alive.

A week later, I got a used car with the money I had planned on putting towards an apartment. Because I needed a car to get back and forth to appointments, work, take Shilo to daycare. So I got me a car with the money. After getting the title signed over and tags, I leave and go home long enough to get a few things. Then my daughter and I head over to his house. We pick him up and head to the next town over, headed towards the mall. But it was snowing. Not heavily, but it was sticking. On the highway, I hit a patch of black ice. And total that car. Only 4 hours after buying, I total it. I was pissed. I slammed my hands on the steering wheel, I cuss and scream. Because I don’t understand why my luck is such shit here lately.

But he was hurt, so I went to him. Holding his head up to keep him from passing out. And trying to keep my daughter calm. Because this was the second wreck she was in and she was scared. Two wrecks in less than a two week time span. Of course she’s scared, and of course I’m pissed. I had JUST bought that car.

But I was still worried about him, trying to keep him awake until EMS got there. They take him to the hospital. I was in the car until my parents get there. They pick us up and take me to the hospital so I can see him. He’s in pain, and I’m crying because I feel so bad. I never meant for the wreck to happen, there was nothing I could do. It was ice and once I hit it, there was nothing I could do. He tells me it’s okay, that he’s not mad, that it was an accident. I’m still upset, but he tells me to calm down and that everything is alright.

I leave the hospital and a few hours later, he messages me, mad at me. Because my ex had come to the house a few days before. He said I was hiding it from him. I told him I wasn’t hiding. That I had planned to tell him at dinner, but then we had the wreck and I was more worried about him being hurt than I was telling him my ex came around. He said I was lying. I never invited my ex to come over. He showed up on his own. But because I went out to be polite and say hello, he was mad and said I had cheated. I told him I was sorry for not telling him sooner. He didn’t really accept the apology.

He tells me he deleted his facebook page. I asked a friend about it. She said no, his page is still there. But his page said he was in a relationship with another girl. So I confront him about it. He tells me that it was all a set up so that I could see how ‘Close I was to losing him’. Basically told me it was a test. I got mad, told him I wasn’t in high school, that I didn’t do tests anymore. He said she was a lesbian and that they weren’t actually together. He asked me not to message her anymore and that he was going to handle it. Bull. Shit.

For almost a week, they were tagging one another in posts saying they love one another and all of that kind of stuff. So I told him that I knew about it and that I was done. He gets mad because I sent her more messages. Because while he had been with her, he was sending me messages saying he was sorry, that we were gonna fix it all, asking me to marry him. I sent her screenshots of it all. He claims that she slapped him and got mad at him because I showed he that. I told him maybe if he wasn’t cheating, it wouldn’t have happened.

One minute he’s texting me, telling me he wants me back and that he needs me back, then one minute he’s cussing me out and telling me that I never truly loved him because I’m walking away from him. He claims to have sacrificed so much for me, but he really didn’t sacrifice much. He didn’t have a job, or a working vehicle. I was the one who did all the running, paid for everything. But I still said yes when he ‘proposed’ to me, which was nothing but him buying me a ring at a flea market and saying ‘There’s your engagement ring’.

He claims that I was trying to kill him because we were in two wrecks close together. He called me a murderer. I had my daughter in the car. She could have been hurt or killed. I could have been hurt or killed. I would never risk our lives for something so stupid. He said I’m lying. But then two days later he says he wants me back. I’m confused and angry by this point.

He send me a picture of him with a knife to his throat, saying he’s ready to end it all. I beg him not to. Then sends me a picture of what could possibly be cocaine on a scale and he says he’s so tempted to do it. I tell him not to, because it would be stupid.

He blames my phone for killing our relationship. Says a phone was more important than him and that I neglected him. I spoke to one of his friends, and she said that he told her that I had sex with someone while he and I were together. And I never did. I never had sex with anyone BUT him while we were together. So he’s telling people I did things and said things that I never did or said.

He expects me to just forget the fact that he cheated on me three times, messaging 20+ girls asking them for sex. Telling them that he and I had broken up days ago, when we were still together. He messages girls and tells them we broke up, yet to me he acts like nothing is wrong. So when I tell him I can’t trust him again, he gets mad at me, cusses me out, threatens to bring the cops to my house. Said he was going to send his drug dealer to my house to get his stuff.

I am just literally so done and over with everything... I am so emotionally drained. I’m so over being cussed out one day, then him trying to treat me like the love of his life the next. I keep telling him I don’t want him back and he won’t stop asking me to give him just one more chance. And after telling him no five or six times, he gets angry again. I just can’t do it. I can’t be around that, and my daughter doesn’t need to be around it, either. It’s just not safe.

And everything I just told you about here is just a fraction of what I have dealt with... There is so much more than can’t be posted on social media, or that I simply don’t want posted...

So yeah. I’ve been through Hell and back these past few weeks.... And I just want to be done with it already...

#personal #relationships #drama #suicide #depression #abuse #verbal abuse #cheating #controlling #car wreck #harassment #self harm

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a1detective · 5 years ago

Text

Update, 12/19/2019

If we can be forced to say a man is a woman, there is nothing we can’t be forced to say. If a lesbian can be forced to have sex with men, there is nothing we can’t be forced to do. We will all increasingly be pressured to publicly affirm our support for these mores to the point where there will be nothing we can’t be forced to think. And that’s the point. A society whose subjects must not only declare but actually convince themselves that 2+2=5 is a society that is truly totalitarian, regardless of whatever lip service its politicians pay to democracy.

Read more: https://www.americanthinker.com/articles/2019/12/transgenders_attacking_ Follow us: @AmericanThinker on Twitter | AmericanThinker on Facebook

——————————————

Original Article:

Satire: BY JEFFREY A. FRIEDBERG

FROM BENEATH AREA 52….

images.techhive.com

<<<<<——————>>>>>

NOTE from beneath Area 52: 9/8/2019

This piece of satire really struck a nerve or a thong or jockstrap or tooth or something. Because it’s still getting Visits, and heated “Comments,” even though it was originally posted, 7/8/2019, which a relatively long time ago, in Internet days.

9/12/2019: ACTUALLY, it even seems to me, to be under some sort of attack….

If you hate the article so much, why don’t you just scrub the article from your site(s)?

Why Not?

I GUESS, MAYBE, BECAUSE IT GETS YOU CLICKS ?? 🙂

This article is getting so many clicks, maybe I should put some ads on my site, which earns NOTHING, and write more articles like this one?

Thank you so much for the Traffic 🙂

<<<——->>>

Let me “signal” here that I don’t care what “Gay” does with each other. We always had Uncle Maurice—who was NEVER, “in the closet.” The Gay Hairdressers Association of Philadelphia always treated me politely as an 18 year old, hot-looking, lifeguard.

Jeffrey A. Friedberg…”Even I was Once As You….”

<<<<<——————>>>>>

KATHY GRIFFIN IS DOING **WHAT** TO SMILING, SELF-PROCLAIMED, GAY ANDERSON COOPER? “Kathy Griffin has taken TV to a whole new level by giving Anderson Cooper’s ‘sack’ (her words, not mine) a smooch on CNN’s live New Year’s Eve broadcast. I wonder if she missed the announcement that he’s gay? You can see the whole twisted thing here.”

———

Groin To Groin??

cdn.newspunch.com – OMG! I thought that was a woman! – Child laying on top of “Drag Queen Reader,” at a “reading.” Laying there, Groin to groin?

BUT—OH, WAIT!

STOP THE PRESSES!

THIS UPDATE (9/12/2019) EXPLAINS EVERYTHING:

Drag queen blames little children for shocking photos at public library

Child Abuse, Drag Queen Story Hour, Drag Queen Story Time, Homosexuality, Oregon, Portland, Public Libraries, Transgenderism

PORTLAND, Oregon, September 10, 2019 (LifeSiteNews) — The drag queen who was shown in multiple disturbing photos to have frolicked on the floor with young children crawling over him at a Drag Queen Story Hour blames those children for the backlash he experienced.

LifeSiteNews first brought photo evidence of children having inappropriate contact with drag queen Carla Rossi at Portland, Oregon’s St. John’s Library to the attention of the public in July. The photos, which had been posted on the Multnomah County Library’s own Flickr account in October 2018, were quickly removed after the LifeSiteNews report went viral.

Drag queen Rossi, who last year said the kids were climbing on top of him after a dance move called a “death drop,” changed his tune after receiving criticism, saying the kids knocked him over as he tried to fight them off. He also blames his bad hip and the six-inch heels he was wearing at the time.

In an October 2018 Instagram posting in which he was pictured with a little girl lying on top of him, he said, “Drag Queen Storytime yesterday ended with a death drop on a bubble wrap dance floor as the babies crawled all over Carla Gulliver’s Travels–style, and I have the best job in the world.”

Shortly after LifeSiteNews drew attention to the troubling scene in the Portland library, Rossi’s gleeful tune changed. In a subsequent Instagram post, he said he didn’t so much want to “set the record straight” as “break it altogether.”

“The photographed kids knocked me over and piled on me, and I laughed with them and their parents and the library director and told them we had to get up as I tried to look out for my bad hip in the process,” said Rossi.

“What would you do differently if kids having a Cher dance party — on bubble wrap — knocked you over in six-inch heels and a floor length rainbow caftan?” he asked.

—https://www.lifesitenews.com/blogs/drag-queen-blames-little-children-for-shocking-photos-at-public-library

https://www.lifesitenews.com/blogs/drag-queen-blames-little-children-for-shocking-photos-at-public-library

———

Ass To Groin??

rwcnews.com – “8-Year-Old Becomes Drag Queen, Left Supports Behavior Despite Claims Of Child Abuse.”

Duckduckgo.com

<<<——————>>>

GAY MEN IN MUSLIM HANDS. “Kill All The Gays:”

“اقتلهم.”

What does the US Liberal say? “Oh, that photo was taken in Turkey.” I see—so— what? In that case it doesn’t matter? Ca ne fait rien?

OMG! And I Thought This Was A Woman! i.dailymail.co.uk

GAY SEX TO BE REQUIRED FOR ALL? (“EXCEPT MUSLIMS?”)

Probably not immediately, but maybe—yeah.

Well, no, but—yeah, could be.

Nah. No.

Oh, speaking satirically, maybe at some future time, maybe when the diseased media, politicians, Hollywood, and other perverted social warriors decide, “The time is right,” but not right now. Nah.

BTW, no word from Muslims, but I already, however, totally do see maybe having Gay sex as a Test—a pre-requirement for joining ANTIFA (pronounced, “an-teefa.”) 🙂

youtube

* I read someplace where Transgenders are upset and mad that “straights won’t date them.”

I can’t remember where I saw that. But this obviously has to be fixed. It can maybe be done by legislation or Executive order. Under democrat rules of equality, these trannie “folks” are apparently entitled to have sex with ANYbody they choose.

It seems to me that the LBGTXYZ (or Whatever) already rules Earth.

fthmb.tqn.com

It seems impossible to make a million, run for office, or keep your job without extolling a Gay Lifestyle, praising all sorts of not-usual sex, and watching Supergirl on Canadian TV.

When you even have the failed bartender, calling itself, “AOC,” on the Gay Bandwagon, then you know there is a large, loose, and smelly Movement coming.

“UHHhhhhhhh…I feel it COMING! (EEehhhhhhhh!”

Google, July 8, 2019

* I read someplace where we have already been asked to “take in” Nancy Pelosi’s gentle, divine, illegals. You know, board and feed them in our homes? The way King George had us take in British soldiers around 1776?

# # # #

UPDATE, 7/9/19: “

“NYT: Middle-Class Americans Must Sacrifice Their Suburbs to Aid Poor Immigrants”

I CAN ALMOST NOT EVEN KEEP UP WITH THIS WILD DEMOCRAT LIBERAL CRAP. IT JUST KEEPS POURING OUT—LIKE PROJECTIVE DIARRHEA.

YET, I REMAIN PROPHETIC.

SUBSCRIBE HERE.

* I ask, can demanding that we all have gay sex be far behind?

The intention of a group called SHFA (Super Happy Fun America) to run a Straight Pride Parade in Boston drew a whopping amount of poisonous attacks from the Left media, both social and mainstream.

The SHFA has been adjudicated as promoting homophobia, which is totally untrue, but at least could be remotely perceived, giving the usual twisted logic from the Left. There are gays among the SHFA members and main figures of the event — Milo Yiannopoulos, a “right-wing” openly gay activist, has been appointed the parade’s grand marshal.

Nevertheless, the “homophobia” tag is not nearly enough. On top of that, the parade organizers have been branded in the mainstream media as “people with connections to white supremacists” (defined as such by the ACLU) and the Alt Right. Apparently, some among SHFA have certain association with the ResistMarxism organization, built with an aspiration to defend our Constitution, our Declaration of Independence, and the economic system based on capitalism (rather than communism or Hitler-style national socialism). That, in the eyes of “progressives,” is a major sin on its own.

—americanthinker.com

Wow, I give this group, SHFA, positive credit. Even though they are already an object of leftist, deluded, lying, communist scorn. And will probably draw hatred, and violence.

I mean—they represent what was normal in America just a few years ago. Now, apparent maniacs have seemingly turned a world upside down with an unfathomable drive for seemingly “gay” ultimate supremacy.

And, “Socialist” sounds so much nicer than, ‘COMMUNIST.”

Who will protect this patriot group from the “tolerant,” benevolent, divine Left? Not the mayor of marathon-bombed and 9/11-airport Boston; he appears to be a deluded fool. Not the politicians, media scum, or kneeling (kneeling?) “entertainers.

The police? Maybe; we still have to see if they will even “approve” the march, we are told.

Because, you see: in my opinion, a “Gay,” Leftist, Communist, Illegal, Muslim-Jihadist, and Democrat-almost-Mafia-like Rule has somehow been insinuated into America’s Blood—as being “the new Normal.”

d.ibtimes.co.uk

YOU HAD BETTER OBEY.

BECAUSE, “Social media,” and mafiosi, ‘bots, algorithms, search engines, leftists, and communists, can Find you.

They can SILENCE you.

Not only might they critique your punctuation, and grammar, But They Might Also evaluate sentence construction!

WORSE— they can be FUNNY!

Even though it’s just satire, they can say it’s not— that it’s “the government,” that it’s “a conservative ploy,” or that it’s “from Area 51!” Nothing matters to Them—certainly not the truth—only ascendancy, of their Communist Doctrine.

But, they Can Still Fix You in Place. They can Scorn and Attack you, They can Swarm as taught doctrinally in “schools,” Destroy you, and Get You Fired. Your Life could be over.

Therein lies your democrat “freedom” and “equality.”

Love it. Live it:

“FREE AT LAST!”

Hey Kids, on both your sides: Jeez—CAN YOU MAYBE BE MORE TOLERANT OF EACH OTHER?

Jeff Dunham’s, “Achmed The Dead Terrorist.” – i.ytimg.com/vi/kF7znANAAkM/maxresdefault.jpg

* * PS: Kids, I had so much hate mail, sex-filth, and death-threats from the “tolerant, fair, humorless, peace-loving” side—who seemed so hatefully intolerant and violent toward satire—that I could not keep The site cleaned of their remarks. I mean, I don’t think I can print what some sent me.

So, I closed down “Comments.” 🙂

<<<——————>>>

UPDATE: Will Having Gay Sex Soon Be Required For All American Citizens? (“Excluding Muslims?”) Update, 12/19/2019 If we can be forced to say a man is a woman, there is nothing we can't be forced to say…

#gays #gays rule #Gays usa #transgender gay

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