#like the Issue Of The Week is the fact that I am unlovable and will die alone

[the-old-man-has-the-phonebox]

The brain is both your greatest asset and your worst enemy

it’s so stupid that you can’t think your way out of the mental health trenches. like you can know exactly what is wrong, why it’s upsetting you, and you can walk yourself through all of it logically and Understand it but your brain just responds like

[jangofettjamz]

Unlovable Child

Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader

Warnings: Child abuse

2nd Person POV

"I'm going out of town for a week to see my parents" you tell Jenna. The two of you were snuggled up together on the couch, binge watching The Mandalorian on Disney+.

"Oh, do you want some company?" Jenna offered to which you shook your head no. Your parents wasn't exactly the gold standard when it comes to parenting, in fact they'd probably win an award as being one of the worst.

You've never discussed your parents with Jenna because of this, not wanting her to be involved with them due to their toxic nature. You feared that exposing them to her would only cause more trouble than its worth.

"You sure you don't want me to come with? I can--"

"No no you really don't have to" you said, cutting her off a little too quickly to go unnoticed. She gave you a look of suspicion, knowing there was likely some underlying tension between your parents and you.

You tried to put her at ease "I-I mean... they haven't seen me for a while... I wouldn't want to overwhelm them by introducing you to them... y'know given your fame and all. No offence"

Your stuttering and lack of a believable reason wasn't enough to ease Jenna's growing concern for you, but she smiled anyway, which in turn made you smile. You knew she wasn't convinced.

She pulled you in closer, making sure you were nestled into her chest. She had a feeling deep down that you were keeping something from; something terrible. Anxiousness flooded her nervous system, making her rethink about letting you go.

Her heartbeat quickened because of this, something you caught by having your head on her chest. "Jenna? Are you okay?" You asked.

She looked at you and smiled to put you at ease "Everything's fine, sweet boy. Everything's okay." She reassured, kissing your forehead to ease your worries.

But it wasn't her you were worried about, it was meeting your parents for the first time in years. The last time you spoke to your parents was 2 years prior, just before you moved out for your new job, just before you met Jenna for the first time. It didn't exactly end on the greatest of terms.

You parents were vile; abelists who took pleasure in calling you the most horrid of insults for their own sick pleasure. It made them feel better about themselves, like they were superior. They were never proud of you, even though your academics should make them so. They could never be proud of someone like you, someone who was autistic.

Of course, with many dysfunctional households come with their fair share of physical abuse, which in your case was fairly common place. The slightest of mistakes ended in severe punishment, that being knocking a drink over, talking to loudly .etc.

You were deemed a failure in the eyes of your parents despite everything you've accomplished in school, your well paying job; it meant nothing. You were never good enough for them. You were simply too much of a "spaz" to love. You were nothing to them, only when money was an issue were you of any use.

You held Jenna a little tighter just think about this. Painful memories from your past flashed through your mind, reminding you of the awful people they were.

But you maybe they had changed, maybe they realised the error of their ways, you naively thought to yourself, only setting yourself up for a meeting that would inevitably send you crashing down.

But you had to believe. "They have changed. Of course they changed, they only said and did all that stuff to make me into the man I am today. They love me. Don't they?"

- 1 day later

Jenna was on the phone with her director discussing filming dates. She was currently working multiple films at once and needed to negotiate dates so that it wouldn't impede on her schedule.

You always admired how she could do so many films at once, though, you wished she would take a break sometimes as it can tire her out.

Jenna's phone call was immediately interrupted by the sound of the door opening revealing your figure. "Mark I'm gonna have to call you back" she hangs up the phone, confused as to why you were back 6 days earlier than anticipated.

You were wearing sunglasses, unusual considering the weather outside was quite gloomy. Perhaps you just felt like wearing them, she thought to herself.

"Hi, baby boy." She kisses your cheek, but noticed that it looked awfully red and... swollen? "You're back early. Did everything go okay down there?" Jenna asked to which you nodded with a smile, albeit a dishonest smile.

"Yeah everything went great, just gad to cut the trip short because they were busy and stuff. My parents are busy people after all" you say in a somewhat cheery tone. The swollen part of your face was pulsing, as though the nerve endings in your face had been set alight.

Jenna continued to examine your face, still finding it strange that you haven't taken off your shades yet. "Wait, he wasn't even wearing shades when he left. Why was he wearing them now?" She thought, trying to ascertain the situation.

She noticed your hands were shaking; odd considering you were always calm around her most of the time and it wasn't cold indoors because of the heating. One of your arms was holding your stomach too.

All this information, combined with the fact that your back 6 days ahead of schedule is enough to tell Jenna that something was very very wrong.

"Hey babe can you take off those glasses for me? I wanna see those pretty eyes of yours." She asked sweetly, forceful was not the right approach. You looked at her, trying to strum up a lame excuse not to oblige.

"No!" He exclaims, catching Jenna off guard. You quickly try to come up with a better excuse. "I mean i-it's really bright in here Jenna, my eyes are kinda tired from driving, y'know" you play off terribly, adding a smile to try and convince otherwise.

Jenna isn't buying it, you know this. She's too smart. "Y/N your face is bright red, and swollen" His smile quickly drops. "Your hands are shaking too, and I can see a cut behind your hair. You and I both know it isn't cold in here and that cut is recent too." She exhales sadly, turning her attention too your stomach "You're holding you're stomach babe, like you're in pain. What happened over there?"

You panic, you knew she wasn't an idiot but you can't bare to let her find out about your parents, about your past. It was too embarrassing, she'd surely leave you for not being man enough to fight back. That what your father had conditioned you to believe, that you weren't a real man because of your condition, that you were sub-human.

"I-I d-dont--" "let me see your eyes, my love" bowing your head in defeat, you allowed Jenna to remove your shades, the sight horrified her, sending shivers down to the deepest depths of her soul. She gasped, her hands covering her mouth as you she saw the damage.

A massive purple bruise covered your right eye, the eye itself was completely red. The area around the eye was completely swollen too. The left eye was also bruised, not as bad but still bruised nonetheless.

Anger bubbled within Jenna, the prospect of someone hurting her baby was sickening to her, she knoew this had to be your parent's doing. "They did this to you, didn't they"

"W-what no! They would never do this to me. My family love me, Jenna. They do" you tried convince her, you tried to convince yourself mostly. Tears pricked at your eyes, stinging even more due to the beating you took.

"Honey... why would they do this to you? What happened?" She asked gently with a tinge of sadness in her tone. You couldn't keep up with the lie any longer.

You took a deep breath. You wanted to tell her what happened, tell her about the desperation you felt when your father's belt connected with your back. How your mother held you down as he did it, beating and beating and beating you for being the spaz who disappointed his parents just by looking at him. She held your hands "It's okay. It's just me. Just Jenna"

A single tear fell down your cheek causing Jenna to wipe it away. "They wanted money..." you started, taking a deep breath before continuing "They wanted money that were apparently "owed" for not getting rid of me. I said no, and I'm sure you can imagine how they reacted to that. They beat me, Jenna. They both did. I couldn't stop them, I tried as hard as I could but they kept..." you sniffled, holding back what would have been a giant sob.

"They kept pummelling me with the belt, punching me in the stomach. Mom held me down and I couldn't anything. They said I was unlovable... I'm unlovable, Jenna!" He broke down completely, falling onto his knees. Your emotions that you'd been holding since you left your parents had escaped, the dull pain now fresh again.

Jenna lifted the back of your shirt to find the purple lashes that layed there, where your father had taken out his anger with the belt. She immediately held you, her own eyes tearing up at your broken state. You clung to her like a lifeline.

"Shhhh, its okay baby. You're safe now. You're safe with me again." He whales in anguish and pain, his sobs became louder as each one left his mouth.

"Jen it hurts" you said like a scared child, exactly what you were at your parent's house.

Upon hearing this Jenna decided it was best for you to lay down on your side to avoid laying on your lashed back. "Come on, honey let's lay you on the couch. Lay on your side for me, my sweet." You did as instructed.

She lifted up your top to see the bruises on your stomach, purple and still fresh. She was going to annihilate your parents, but that comes later. "I'm gonna go get an ice pack, then we're taking you to the hospital"

"No! No! Please no doctors!" You pleaded

She knelt down and stroked your hair to out you at ease as best she could "Shh shh shh, don't think about that now okay. Let me go get an ice pack for your stomach. I'll be right back." She left quickly for the ice, returning as quickly as she left.

She lifted up your shirt and let you get ready for the ice. "On three. One. Two. Three." She presses the ice to your abdomen, the cooling sensation soothed the pain little by little bringing you great relief. "Good boy baby, you being so brave for me" she cooed, kissing the top of his head.

She held the ice pack as you writhed in pain on the couch. Her free hand alternates between rubbing your arm and combing through your hair. She placed little kisses on your swollen cheek, not hurting at all when she did.

The recollection of events that played in your mind caused you to cry again. Jenna brought your head into her neck as she held you close, her skin absorbing most of the tears. "Oh baby, please don't cry. You're not unlovable. You're my very beautiful boy who I love so very very much. They don't deserve you."

You held onto her tight, thinking how lucky you were to have such a wonderful woman in your life. Your parents would've definitely said you didn't deserve her, and maybe you didn't. But that didn't detract from how much you loved her, and appreciated her.

"I love you, Y/N. I love you with every fibre of my being" hearing this made you smile out of pure gratitude and love.

"I love you too, Jenna" you say, voice still wobbly from crying. You pulled your head from the crook of her neck and the two of you just smile at each other, you took in the beauty of her face while Jenna gazed upon your battered one. She pulls you in for a gentle kiss, a long kiss that you desperately needed.

"Bubs we do need to get your tummy looked at. We'll call my mom to have a look at you, but we may need to go to the hospital if it's bad. We can do all that tomorrow though, just rest in my arms for now. Can you do that for me?" You nodded your head "I won't let them get away with this Y/N. Mark my words they're finished."

You'd never seen Jenna this angry, but it brought a strange sense of reassurance, like everything was going to be okay. "Can we watch a movie? I wanna take my mind off of this"

"Of course we can, bubs. What do you wanna watch? Empire strikes back?" She asked, knowing how much you loved that movie. You nodded making her smile and kiss you again.

She layed down next to you, inviting you to curl up next to her and lay your head on her chest. "You're not unlovable, flower. You're a very loveable and amazing person." You smile at her words, Jenna loved you very much and today was evidence of that.

She cradles your body in her arms, still feeling you tremble from everything that has happened. It would be a long road to you heal from this but she'd be with you the whole way there.

She gently rocks you while you watch the film, the sight of Darth Vader igniting your child-like love that Jenna adored.

"Hey bubs, promise you'll never think yourself as unlovable. Promise me that my love."

"I promise." You say, even though you still didn't fully believe it. Your parents words still hurt.

"Good boy. My special beautiful boy"

[candyskiez]

Could you please tell us everything about Night in the Woods I am so intrigued to hear all your thoughts about it (<- have never played the game but eh I don't care about any spoilers)

I NEVER TALKED ABOUT THIS? FUCK.

OKAY. OKAY. NIGHT IN THE WOODS.

It's a game about capitalism, first and foremost. Like I mean It Is A Game About Capitalism. Pretty much every main conflict is in some way influenced by it. Specifically about how capitalism affects your mental health and relationships and how it's almost impossible to exist as a mentally ill person under capitalism.

The protagonist, Mae, has severe mental health issues. She hallucinates, she has mood swings, we don't know what she specifically has but it's very Real and the slow build up to showing it was very well done imo. It wasn't a plot twist it was the slow realization that she'd had these issues for so long and gotten zero help for it, and how all these little things had contributed to it. She's always fucking up relationships, she has anger issues, she feels Unlovable and like everyone hates her and sometimes maybe she hates everyone too, it's all a massive fucking mess and she has no idea how to fix it and she feels so goddamn broken. She dropped out of college because the hallucinations and breakdowns got so intense she could hardly leave her room, and when she came back there was so much judgement about dropping out and. It hurts, man! It really hurts! Her parents made her feel like she'd failed them, Bea felt like she just threw away her ticket out of this town, Agnus worried she was a bad influence on Gregg- even though these people were pretty good they're not immune to taking shit out on each other under the stress of working to stay alive. It's so messy and so realistic. It's all about how capitalism only benefits those on top and shreds the mental health of everyone being exploited by it, whether you have a job or not. There is no winning at capitalism. Dan is always looking for jobs and always getting fired. Bea is miserable at her job. Agnus and Gregg are working seven days a week and they're still tight on money.

And Casey couldn't get a job. We don't know why. And we don't know why because a cult killed him for not being Productive. They said nobody would miss him. One of the first things Mae does in the game is miss him. His parents put up posters. The missing poster is one of the first things you see in the game. "Nobody would miss him" because he didn't Contribute. We barely know anything about him, just that he apparently meant the world to so many characters in the game. Gregg was willing to kill a man when he learned Casey was dead. And they thought nobody would miss him because he wasn't Useful. And we will never know Casey's story because a bunch of bigoted assholes decided his life wasn't worth anything.

But the game is also about community. How capitalism tries to kill it and also how community is the only way to survive it and to maybe fix things. The only reason Mae survived is because she had a community. The reason Casey didn't survive is because he didn't have one. It's about how even though Mae cannot keep a job right now, she still has a place in her community because she exists. She still deserves a place in it, no matter how "Difficult" she is. It's about how Mae feels isolated and like the world is just dead and there's nothing left in it for her, but there are so many people who are alive in that community. There are so many people who see her and who like seeing her run by and who care about her. It's about the fact that the people who try to isolate her from her community because of her breakdown as a kid are actually kind of fucked up! And it's about the fact that community is what saves them. Bea runs off and almost gets herself in massive danger, but Mae runs after her. Even after all the messy shit between them, Mae runs after her. Even though Mae has messed shit up with them so many times, her friends love her. And when she says "I need to do this alone" they actively refuse to let her! They refuse to let her pull the main character card and follow her into danger because that's their friend! She tells them this is all her fault and they don't even humor her for a second. Because she is part of their community and nothing is going to change that.

And just. Oh my god the Scene where Mae confronts....whatever the thing in the mine is. Cosmic horror, hallucination, metaphor for her own inner Shit, whatever you wanna call it. She goes on about how she's always had this in her head. She has always felt disconnected from the world. She's always known shit was unfair and there's always been people having insane systems to hurt people and everything has always been like this. And she has always had these issues. She's always been too angry. She's always been volatile. She's always had periods where her brain works against her. And she just screams at what she thinks is a god that she gets it. She will always have these feelings. She will never stop being wired like this. And whether or not that's fair doesn't matter. But she wants it all to matter. And she is GOING to make it matter. She isn't going to die here. She isn't going to let herself die, and she isn't going to sacrifice herself, and she won't let any random Thing she sees control her choices. She is going to LIVE. She wants her death to hurt. She wants to go down fighting, and she will. No matter what this thing is, she does not fucking care. She can't even understand it. Why should she care about something that doesn't care about her? In that scene I mentioned before, "God" told her it didn't care. It had no reason to care. So why should she look for validation from something that had no reason to give it to her? Why should she let something that wasn't even in this world determine her worth and whether or not her life matters? She decides right then and there that her life matters, and that she will make it matter, and she wants to hope again. She wants to be happy again. And she won't take no from something that doesn't even care and didn't have a reason to. And she lives.

I fucking love this game.

[hey-loser]

TLDR: SRB Zoom Chat

In case you missed it, Sarah did a webinar on Zoom a couple weeks ago hosted by The Sunday Morning Transport to answer questions about Tears Waiting to be Diamonds. You can get a 60-day free subscription to access both the story and the Zoom over on Sarah’s tumblr, but for those who are unable to access for any reason, I received a request to provide a little recap, so here goes! Tried to make it somewhat organized but also it is going to be a little chaotic haha. 

New IOL Deets

The scene of Luke and Elliot getting together and confessing their feelings was almost only ONE SENTENCE LONG. Many thanks on behalf of the fandom to the anonymous critique partner of Sarah’s who told her that absolutely wouldn’t fly.

Elliot and Luke Post-IOL

Sarah says that Elliot doesn’t go over the border much, even though he is able to. Luke is afraid of Elliot going somewhere where he can’t follow, and even though Elliot doesn’t even think of it as a possibility, he tries to be respectful of it.

Pet names: Elliot sometimes will take classics and make them weird (like he does at the end of IOL). Luke will occasionally embarrassedly call Elliot “darling”.

Luke has fairly regular contact with the harpies. Elliot tends to spearhead their contact in terms of keeping up correspondence - he knows relatives even Luke doesn’t, and they often attend harpy festivals. According to Sarah, it’s a classic case of the in-law being the favorite kid. She jokes that he could have just gone to the harpies and lived with them when he was exiled, and they would have gladly taken him in.

WHY SARAH

TWTBD Parts 1 & 2 were initially meant to be published on consecutive Sundays. SARAH SUGGESTED THAT THERE BE A LONGER WAIT IN BETWEEN.

Why Elliot do that?

Even though Elliot has made some progress with his insecurities, he still thinks that Luke doesn’t truly know the worst that he can do, and just puts up with him. Over the years, they have worked through smaller issues, so he’s learned that he can be forgiven for these things (while before that he considered himself completely unloveable). Once he’s committed treason, he thinks that is the worst possible thing, something completely antithetical to Luke’s value system as a soldier, so he considers it inevitable that their relationship is over.

Sarah likened it to “the mortifying ordeal of being known” –  Elliot never holds himself back from being completely known, because then he can be loved for who he is. But Elliot doesn’t think that Luke knows the worst he can be (even though Luke obviously does and accepts him for it).

Luke’s Letters

Luke starts with angry letters, then more worried, then back and forth between the two. Some of the letters Luke sends to Elliot are well thought out and composed (probably because Serene helped him), while others are basically drunk late night texts that he has to admit to Serene later with shame (side note from me: anyone wanna write the fic that comprises all his letters? or am I gonna have to do that myself). 

Luke doesn’t even consider them broken up in the first place and was entirely unsurprised to hear what Elliot had done when he returned, while Elliot dramatically thinks they’ve been broken up for months. He doesn’t want to hurt himself by looking at the letters when he thinks he knows that they will say.

The meantime:

It had been a month since Elliot was exiled by the time Luke and Serene returned from war. By the time Luke arrives it has been almost four months. A lot of that time was spent figuring out what thad happened, possibly variously threatening people who had been planning on executing Elliot.

“A lot of Elliot’s diplomacy relies on the fact that there are people who will enact violence for him”

Peace is not a stable thing, and there isn’t an easy answer for it. As they get older, it becomes more difficult, since adults are held more accountable for their actions than children.

Serene and Luke actually were trying to figure out the diplomatic way to solve the situation: i.e., sending letters to form a plan once communication was initiated.  After getting no response, they tried to get him pardoned, which was difficult considering someone apparently has a transcript of a long speech Elliot gave that essentially said “I did it and I’m not sorry”. 

Luke and Serene would sometimes spontaneously decide they were going to go find him alone, and the other would talk them down from it, or they’d decide to go together, and Golden would convince them to wait.

Where’s Serene?

The story was unfortunately too long to include Serene, or even the few references to her that were initially included (such as Mark mentioning a rumor of the Sunborn Champion being involved with her).

Logistically Sarah couldn’t get Serene to the battle, since Luke would have flown to get to Elliot as fast as possible. She says that Serene definitely arrives within the day.

What happens after TWTBD?

Luke and Elliot have to have several conversations, starting with a yelling conversation, a tender conversation, and then the normal combination of yelling/tender/insults. 

“If Elliot says loser, Luke knows that he’s okay and so pretty much the first words that Elliot said to Luke in the battlefield were reassuring because when he says loser, he means I still love you, which is what Luke was getting worried about.”

Elliot puts himself in tall towers and high places specifically so Luke can find him.

Sarah specifically quotes “This Ain’t a Love Song” by scouting for girls: “I know I’m lost, but I’m waiting to be found”.

More IOL

Sarah has said this before, but just in case anyone has missed it: she definitely has ideas of what happens to the characters in the future. She has said she has a strong story idea which would also need another novel in between to explain the middle events – so essentially a trilogy. TWTBD would take place in between these second and third books – the second would explain the events up to TWTBD, and the third would continue on from there. To be clear, Sarah has not confirmed whether this is actually in the works yet, or whether these would take full-length novel form or short story form.

On Trans and Nonbinary Individuals in IOL (specifically in elven culture):

Sarah says there would be some more freedoms for nonbinary/trans elves or dwarves than in human culture, but they would be restricted in other ways.

Sarah acknowledges that the IOL universe has been represented in a more binary way thus far; she plans to delve more into gender beyond the binary in the future after taking time to get the details and complexity right.

Long Live Evil Information

Sarah’s new upcoming novel! The protagonist is thrown into her favorite fantasy novel, but is unexpectedly classified as an evil sorceress and cast out with the rest of the villains. From how Sarah talks about it, the novel delves into villainy in fiction and what truly makes a villain. It also explores the joy of finding magic even if you think you’ve reached the stage of your life where you’re past it. (I AM SO EXCITED)

Hopefully this was somewhat coherent! 

[shineonyoucrzydiamond]

good love is on the way.

Girl meets guy. Girl becomes infatuated with his good looks and charm. Guy appears to be interested at first, but then the communication slowly begins to dissipate, leaving breadcrumbs here and there. Girl confronts guy, establishes a boundary of "inconsistent communication ain't cute." Guy claims to be too busy and dips out entirely, leaving girl to conclude that he's just not into her.

Weeks go by...and here I (girl) am, still obsessing...replaying scenarios over and over in my head. Still craving the connection. Still left with an insatiable hunger for something - anything - from him. This guy I know close to nothing about. Yet my mind reaches for him at random, day after day. I've tried to interrupt the incessant thoughts and at times it works better than others, but I'm still left with this empty pit in my gut and the feeling of being the unchosen, unlovable, unworthy teenager that I once was.

And really that's what it all goes back to, right? It's not him that I want at all. It's this desire for validation, for connection, for understanding and comfort and the need to be seen. It's the fear of abandonment and the daddy issues and the pile of crap that I have waded through the last few years in therapy. I'm at this point where I feel like I should be over it by now...like my brain should be magically transformed as I've become more self aware and let go of the things that have held me back for so long. Yet in this moment I am stuck. I'm back to 14.

The fact that I'm able to realize this is one thing, now actually doing something about it is another. I have to quit obsessing over this guy for starters, because it's not serving me in any way and honestly I feel bat shit crazy even admitting it. I want to shift my focus to healthier things - I want to wake up and enjoy my life without feeling like I need to rely on something external for happiness. I want to feel worthy and loved all on my own, just as I am right here in this moment. I do realize that him not "wanting" me actually has nothing to do with me and everything to do with him just not being it. And quite possibly him being a crisis averted. I do believe deep down that what's meant for me will stay...and if this didn't work out, it's because better things are coming. I truly believe that. It's just the old thought patterns sneaking their way in there...attempting to bring me back to what used to be familiar.

I didn't think my life would turn out to be so fucking pathological. I suppose it's better than the alternative - denying the blatantly obvious trauma as all those have done before me. At least I'm making an attempt to acknowledge the past and learn from it, create a life I want that's happy. It's not all bad. This just feels like a yucky bit.

I want to look back on this and think, wow, you really did lift yourself up in the shit times and look where it brought you. Look at this magnificent love you've found that you almost shut the door on. And it will be the love I have for myself (okay, and maybe also a dreamboat of a man who is more than I could've ever asked for).

I'm lonely but I know I'll be okay.

[reilleclan-blog]

Brooooooo when is it my turn to experience queer love , WHEN IS IT MY TURNJNNNNN, I swear when I'm committed to someone I try to let them know I'm interested but I'm not gonna be chasing someone like we in a damn movie or something, I've had a crush on a friend for the longest time and she told me she wasn't into me and that's cool but geez even as my friend it felt like she didn't want me around or "there was no space for me" in her life or whatever and it's fine. And yes I even told her/asked her u know I don't want to be intruding if u don't have time and I just left it at that . And I understand so many ppl going thru burnout and being depressed . I go thru that every week but to feel like I can't even get a text until 4-5 months later ... damn I feel hella irrelevant and unloved even from my friend.

Even my best friend she takes time to text me like a week or two b/c she's always busy even I take forever or I let her know sometimes I'm just not in the mood for talking and she respects that but to feel blatantly ignored really hurts. And at times I felt like maybe I'm blowing it outta proportion but I don't think it's that hard to text back. And in the end I just left her alone it seems like I'm not needed so yeah I just stopped texting her not like she was really hitting me up either. But the annoying part is how I still think about her and how I'm "yearning" for someone that doesn't think about me. I just want someone to love me as much as I love them. Friendship or the other u know!

Literally I was at work and this girl's gf was waiting for her outside and they were kissing I'm like "OMGGGG I WANTT THAT" whyuuyyyyy every person I ever liked didn't like me back or wasn't honest with actually liking me . ITS SO FRUSTRATINGLY LAME. And then the place I was at has some fine ass ppl around but like I'm at work I'm not gonna say anything but omgggggff when is it my turn. Even if I don't ever get my turn fine whatever . ;-; I'm tired of getting my heart wounded anyways. I got trust issues and constantly think ppl don't like me. I guess that's why I've always gotten crushes on my friends or most of them b/c they accept me for myself and b/c I feel safe and connected to them I guess it sprouts into feelings for them. Again not all the time but u know . I wish someone loved me as much as I loved them and honestly I don't want to hear someone saying "it's gonna be ur turn" b/c I've been waiting for most of my life. And no I don't want a damn cougar or some old ass man tryna hit on me I want authenticity LOVE AND TO BE LOVED UGHHHHHHH UGH.

Also this day was kicking myass , masking is so difficult (not wearing a mask but masking as in trying to be neurotypical) like today wasn't even super taxing but I was standing for the longest time and feeling out of place around other ppl never feels good . I was lowkey thinking of crying b/c me and my client was outside waiting for our ride for 1hr and it was stressing me out and I just can't deal at times .*big baby cry cry* 😭

And the fact that we were at the damn hospital and ppl sniffing and coughing nurses just refuse to wear masks is beyond me

I was hungry and stressed and thennnn it started mf raining . I got home ok thank goodness I guess . I'm stressed bruh I really am :/

[mischief-lies-and-stories]

Reacting to Contemporary Comics (Without Context) 13/?

I've been working on this for six weeks. I'm sorry, homework and TWO ISSUES OF IMMORTAL THOR sidetracked me. Getting this post hammered out before the next issue of Immortal Thor comes out tomorrow.

I don't know what the fuck this is. I think it might be an anthology? We're joined by modern Thor genius writer, Jason Aaron, creator of the story with The Best Panel Ever in Comic History; and Walter Simonson, of nude!Loki bait fame, and several authors whom I don't recognize.

Spoilers for The Mighty Thor #700 (2017) and likely others.

This is feeling vaguely IT 5-ish

Thori! My good boy!

Thor wants to murder Yggdrasil. I love Thori.

Am I crying about mundane panels again? Possibly. In my defense I lost my dog recently.

Fuck I forgot he lost his arm!

Thori and the goat (idk which one it is) just following him is so great

"Man?" You recruited just random dudes, Malekith? What's Joe from Accounting gonna do? Did Doom have the afternoon off and owed you a favor?

Jane vs She-Hulk?! Why is She-Hulk so hot in this? Did this come out before Ragnarok? It must have, right? Ragnarok came out October 2017. Wait, no, it says December 2017.

WHOA, doc/nurse/whoever you are! HIPAA! I know Jane is technically a doctor, but she's here as a patient right now. Don't give her Jennifer's entire backstory.

Volstagg was Thor once?!

LOKI!!!

Loki why are you dressed like that? Where is your sense of style, you queer little twink?

THOR YOU DID NOT NAME THESE NEW HUMANS JANE AND STEVE WTF

There's my boi! Took you fucking long enough, dude

Yeah, because he's the God of Stories! Give him a fucking minute to try before you erase everything he's written! God.

Also can we stop drawing him so gross?!

Okay but I might change the name of my Loki playlist from Disaster Spouse to Little Prince of Jackasses lol

Why is Throg's name Simon Walterson... one of the prolific Thor writers is Walter Simonson... this is a multi-level spoof [I'm thinking he probably created the character, actually, but I'm not in the mood to fact check that atm]

Okay, when is Loki's thread of the narrative? Because that was... still in character, but he seems too cold about it for when I thought this was. Ugh, this is what happens when you let anyone other than Al Ewing write Loki.

NO! What the fuck? Talk about a NoTP! Hela and Thanos? Thanos needs to die alone and unloved. And Hela's married to Karnilla. >:(

[moonsquaremars]

Why can’t I fix him?

Why is my love not enough? He had feelings for me. That is unarguable. his borderline personality disorder must have kicked in. maybe he was scared, felt unloveable. scared i would abandon him. so he self sabotaged cuz that was the safer bet for him.

but didn’t he see how understanding i was? how much i wanted to take care of him? didn’t he see the stars in my eyes, the expression of pure happiness just lying next to him?

maybe he got greedy. maybe he didn’t want to be tied down. saw how happy i made him, and figured he could do better. get more. have more sex with others. maybe i made him feel too attractive and desirable.

his hypocrisy. watching my grindr usage. sending me snarky remarks on a burner account. replying “who else” when i told him i loved him. i would have pushed every one to the side for him. i mean that. whenever i used the same tricks he used on me, it became an issue.

& he never said i love you back. started calling me codependent. he’s probably right there, but it takes two to tango.

the fact he has a history of this. dating violence. always preying on skinny young twinks with “daddy issues”. who doesn’t have daddy issues. it’s really not fair to reduce love and sexual attraction to that. it is what it is. not one person has a perfect relationship with both their parents. what is the use in trying to distort the pure love and happiness he provided me.

you told me you didn’t ask for another chance. you didn’t ask for me to give you the benefit of the doubt. harsh, true. am i a fool for giving it to you?

i won’t be a fool for letting you get away with this. the people of your past may not have held you accountable with the law. but i will. im not letting you push me around. break my phone and my heart, and walk away feeling like top dog who can do and have whatever he wants.

you had me big guy. and i had you. those seven weeks feel like a dream that i never want to wake up from. we could have built a life. i wanted so desperately to build a life with you.

you asked how i would kill you when we were joking around about that stuff. i said i wouldn’t, because i wanted to live with you. live.

that answer surprised even me. im dark, twisted. have a cruel sense of humor at times. but i don’t act on those thoughts. i can resist those impulses. i don’t want that for my life. i guess you’re not the same in that regard.

i believe everyone is a good person. turns out people aren’t as simple as that. there is part of you that is good. but that part hid away, and someone new is now in your body. i don’t know if it’s from your drug use, or bpd. i don’t know what it is.

it really doesn’t matter to me anymore, since we’ll never ever be together anymore. and that is what im mad about most. the fact you’re probably one of the most handsome men i’ve ever seen. the list goes on the ways you turned me on.

we were such a good match. but now it’s over. and you ruined all chances of there being something more. and that’s what makes me want to hate you. i wish i could hate you.

my error was thinking you wanted better for yourself. my error was assuming we had similar goals and outlooks on life. in many ways we did. and the fact you were such an asshole kinda turned me on. but you’re vicious and cruel, even to someone who loves you.

i don’t know what went wrong to make you this way. i wish i knew. i wish i could change it. i wish i could go back in time, and prevent whatever happened to make you this way.

you were my dream. and now you’re my nightmare. and i hate the idea that now i’m gonna have to spend my life with somebody else. if i survive you. and that we didn’t get enough time together.

[badedramay]

Amreekan here :) I don't have a problem with stereotypes or Kim's so-called rudeness, but more that the writer got a lot of the basics incorrect. But that's a v small part of a bigger problem with Kim. From what I can see ek recent trend ban gaya hai that MLs are written better but at the expense of the FLs. I feel even that scene where Kim talks abt her abuse became abt how Dawood reacted so gently with her. I'm glad we are getting a non toxic ml but I'm a Maya fan. Wanna see HER shine.

Agreed, the writer did get the basics wrong. I said it earlier that Yunhi is a story that feels outdated in the current scenario because social media has made information to access so much easier that such blatant ignorance is no one's fault but the writer's own laziness. HOWEVER, if by the 15th week the conversation around the drama continues to be about just that misrepresentation and not everything else that it is doing RIGHT..then that's not the drama's fault. that's on the people who are taking Yunhi as the end-all, be-all representation of foreign based Pakistani characters and actually taking personal offense regarding everything that Kim does instead of how her actions affect the narrative. Kim is NOT the best written character. her actions are very contradictory to what she says. some of her actions lack common sense. I am not denying any of that criticism. but taking THAT as an "insult" towards foreign based Pakistanis instead of just accepting that hey, Kim as a character is just a mess like this IS where I have issues. countless of FLs in our Pakistani dramas are on this similar level of mess. but if their moohphattness or goody-two-shoeness is not meant to be taken as a faithful representation of how women in Pakistan actually are..why not the same courtesy for Kim??? why is SHE always under the microscope?? when in fact her character's exaggerated unfilterness EXISTS for the main purpose of confronting the elephants in the room that the middle class Pakistani society has gotten experts at ignoring. sure, Kim's actions don't always hit the nail perfectly but by goodness the hammer never strays away from the target.

'oh Kim doesn't address her mother-in-law with the appropriate title and still calls her Razia~'

And so??? Razia was the name of her mother's dear friend. if anything, I see Kim calling Razia by her first name as a way of finding a deeper connection with her mother and with Razia, the HUMAN and not the person who is solely called by the relationships she has. would people be alright with Kim calling Razia as "aunty" or "ami" and she continues to treat her like a punching bag that is only deserving of comfort in the confines of a room?? the way Razia gets treated by Basharat? unpraised, unloved, unappreciated in front of everyone but ohhoo what's wrong with that? She gets called with the appropriate titles of respect! Bass yehi toh chaiye hota hai life mein!!

khair. i'll always have more to say.

From what I can see ek recent trend ban gaya hai that MLs are written better but at the expense of the FLs.

OMG YES YES YESSSS!! THISSSS!!!! that's so true!!!! it's getting so obvious in Pakistani dramas now. Yunhi doesn't do it as blatantly as others but yesss..it does that too! i am seeing praise being showered on Dawood/BA for the abuse scene instead of pointing out that scene's significance wrt Kim's character and how it explains WHY Kim behaves in certain ways. which is so unfair cuz the scene was a very pivotal moment that shed light on BOTH these characters and their dynamics. but i guess the audience nowadays is in their 'dreamy hero chaiye' era so instead of them applying any critical analysis of the FL's character, they just put up with her while they fantasize about the ML and the fantasies they can build with her. times are changing..the men on and off screen are getting more hype than the women when a few years ago it was the opposite. let's see how long this trend will last. although i am sure the balance will never be achieved here. the scales will always tip in favor of one side at the expense of the other's.

[shingekinomyfeelings]

Hi - I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.

Hey. I guess I'm doing a little better, or at least feeling less horrible.

You know, I don't think a single person involved in the issue even looks at this blog anymore, and even if they do, I guess it doesn't really matter, so I'm just going to cut the vagueness and talk about it. Also I sort of microdosed some psilocybin and am in an enjoyably neutral emotional state, but there's every chance I'll get anxious and delete this when that wears off lollll

So in a nutshell, a lot of tensions happened, and some of it was my fault; a lot was happening irl and my mental health was being deeply impacted by some very serious things that I honestly keep secret from everyone and have no intention of revealing at this point. I had a big dumb cptsd-triggered emotional breakdown and disappeared from a group because I was extremely hurt and needed to feel far away from everyone to cope with it.

I angsted over it for months and months, but I spent a year focusing on my physical health and cheered myself up with the idea that when I was in a better situation all around and feelings had settled, things could be mended. I really, really, really believed it, which is why it was gutting to finally realize it wasn't possible. I wanted to talk about what happened and apologize and forgive, but they don't like me or want anything to do with me - I truly don't even know what I did that was THAT unforgivable, which adds a layer of hurt and confusion. I didn't deliberately act to hurt anyone, but I guess they might think I did. I can't help having the thought that it's just because I'm literally unlovable, courtesy of the anxiety and depression and cptsd. Fun thoughts that never go away.

I've been pissed off at myself for getting caught up in a completely false sense of optimism. I pushed back hard against the stupid, trauma-driven anxiety demon telling me that people I like privately don't like me at all, and found out the anxiety demon was right. I'm even part of a long term inside joke, and the humiliation of finding out that's how they felt while I was convincing myself that if I missed them, they probably missed me too, made me want to flay myself alive for a few weeks there.

I'm also disturbed by the way that if I feel a sense of affection for anyone and they leave my life, they still live rent free in my head for the rest of it. I don't really get over people. Sometimes I can work up anger that doesn't feel as bad as sadness, but I really do just never stop missing or thinking of people I had friendships with. That's not normal, right? It's not a trait that does any good for me.

I think I lose sight of the fact that most friendships do not survive mutual hurt, even though mutual hurt is an inevitability of friendship; it is plainly and simply the death of almost every relationship when you fight with each other. I don't like believing that, because it hurts, but it also hurts to mindfully build up hope and then be wrong - that's actually exactly what ended up putting me into a near catatonic depression six years ago, and I finally started to pull myself out of it with the help of having met these people, and now here I am again. I'm just really, really bad at coping with loss.

uhhhh anyway, I know you didn't ask if I was okay anticipating an exposition dump, but I don't what the point is in being mysterious about it right now lmfao. Maybe being vague and mysterious doesn't benefit me, either. Thank you for wondering and for asking, though. I really appreciate it.

So, I guess there's trulu no changing or fixing it now. I'm just grappling with the pain of having to fully give up on something I was really hopeful about for a long time.

[cominguppoppies]

I went to the beach with my friend, THE friend, yesterday and it was really nice. The beach is definitely my favourite place in the world. I would choose the ocean and the beach, I would choose it again and again. It's where we came from, and it's where I eventually want to return. In the meantime though, I will be so very content as a visitor. We were having a good time at the beach until I suddenly started feeling terrible. I hate being mentally ill and having to deal with it, at times it's such a burden. It just feels so heavy at times. Something small happened and was said, I know he didn't mean anything by it. But all the feelings I'd been bottling up about myself, the breakup, and even the friend I was with just surfaced at the same time. It's become more and more clear how so many issues in my life stem from the fact that I am not happy with myself. I'm not content with who I am, and it's hard to deal with the fact that this will always be me. There are moments where I genuinely feel like a terrible, evil woman. It scares me because I feel as if I'm the kind of person people don't enjoy and love, but that they simply tolerate and endure. And I don't want to be that kind of burden, not on the people I love. Because I don't endure them, I adore them. They are all so beautiful. I'd do anything for those beautiful people. I know I confused the fuck out of my friend. I know I do a lot. He's told me, he says he likes that about me. I just hope I don't annoy him. Too much. I was afraid he was mad at me, I was afraid that something deep inside of me is unloveable.

I had a beautiful day, though. The beach is so wonderful, it's so healing. And I guess part of healing is feeling everything in full. It's all just a process. It felt so nice to be at my favourite place with one of my favourite people, at his favourite place too. This world is so full of love and I see it in my friends and in the world every single day. We jumped the waves and we sat in comfortable silence. He's one of the only people that I can simply speak without thinking, just letting it all spew out, and he understands and appreciates it. I like that. It's all so comfortable between us. Same with the car ride, I enjoyed that a lot. On the way over, we talked and danced and just lived. It's so nice. On the way back, it was more quiet. We were both tired and it had been a good, but long, day. It had been a good day for me, at least. I hope it had been for him too. It was more of a comfortable silence, occasionally interrupted by a flowing thought. That's nice sometimes, too. It's always so comfortable though. I love the beach.

After coming home, I actually ended up with another friend. She's scary because I see myself in her, in a way. For better or for worse, usually for the worse. I see myself in the bad parts of her. I love her anyway. We talked about me and my other friend. She pushed a lot, more than I was ready for, but I think I needed it. I needed some prying to fully face and air out those thoughts. I appreciate her. She's got a complex and scary mind. She's like me. I sometimes wonder if it scares her. She asked if I like my friend, and I told her what I've been saying since the day he and I talked. I did for a bit, but I was trying to cover up the shock and pain of a breakup and sadly, I used my best friend. We're just friends and I'm so very okay with that. It's the best way to be. It's the best kind of love for us to have. I came to terms with that weeks ago. But I told her that deep down, there will always be a part of me that wonders what it'd be like if we were more. How would it work out? Would it? That 'what if' will always have a place deep in my mind. I wonder if it'll ever be answered. I have no desire to find out, especially not right now. We've discussed that neither of us are seeking a relationship, with each other, but also in general. Neither are ready and I think we've bonded over that realisation. We reached a self realisation together. That's the beauty of it. And maybe that 'what if' will go forever unanswered. And that's okay. It's okay that it's there, it's okay if it goes unanswered. I'm happy that I am aware of it either way. It's not necessarily a desire, it's simply a question.

16.7.2024.

[star2sworld]

Hiii 9/10/23

hi, I’m going to recap today :)

- my day started off bad.. last night I catched up with my cousin after 2 weeks and I told her about my hyper sexual issue and the fact I’m talking to very old guys and sending nudes and FaceTiming guys at the age of 16. She told me how her life has gotten a lot better and even has her first boyfriend now who loves her very much. I guess I was jealous. I envy her. Or envied her. So, I was upset. I am very happy for her but I was sad because I felt unlovable I’m never had a boyfriend or a first kiss. I haven’t had any talking stages either it makes me feel as if I’m unlovable and there is no one out there for me. I was listening to rap songs as this happened so I didn’t feel or care as much and I got over it quickly and realized there’s 7billion people in the world just because she has a boyfriend doesn’t mean I won’t get one!! Everyone’s path is different. I’m sure he will come once it’s time. I also blocked the 32year old guy I was talking to yesterday thanks to my online friend. It took a lot of courage but I blocked all the guys I sent to :) afterwards I went to sleep.

- today I woke up feeling extremely exhausted. Mentally and physically. Maybe it’s because I start my period at the end of this week? Or maybe todays is just one of those days. I ended up eating chips & watching the ultimatum for about 2 hours. Then I hated on my body because of my scars for about an hour. Afterwards I finally got up and took a shower. I did my after shower routine and I felt good. I smelled nice and I was CLEAN my hair was soft and clean. I went to sams club with my family besides my sister because she decided to stay home. I had created a list of things to do today before I took a shower so I wanted the shopping run to be quick. We got food and there was a slight problem at the end but it was solved. We went to Taco Bell after and I saw the guy I use to think was cute working there ( I’m shocked ) …. we came home and my brother and I put everything away. I thought I was going to get some of my work done but then my entire family went to my mama(uncle) house. He lives 35 minutes away … before we left I decided to delete social media for good. For at least a few months until I feel better about myself. My goals is 3 months to get my life together. I want to love myself and I feel like social media distracts me too much. Once we got there we ate some mango & grapes and I toured the house.

- We came home and i immediately went to go find my cat Angel :) after playing with her I got to cleaning. I vacuumed everywhere and wiped the floor. I picked my outfit for tomorrow and I think it’s so cute. I’m wearing a tube top and as I was searching for my patch one of my drawers got stuck. My sister gave me her patch and I pulled the drawer out & I found 145$!! I am shocked lol wtf!! I’m very happy and grateful I found my money though. I put my supplies back and put a blanket up on my door that connects to the kitchen for more privacy. I cleaned angles litter box, made my bed, too I picked up all the trash in my room, threw my trash outside, and put all my clothes on the floor away. My sister waxed my armpits & then I ate some corn that was cooked in the grill with my family. After I finished eating I did my algebra 2 homework it was quite confusing but after a bit of research I kind of got it. I made my grwm to sleep as I debrief tiktok video & then I brushed/flossed. My brother came in with snacks that we got from the store today. I went to the kitchen and divided the other snacks and my cat also came inside my room. I changed her water & gave her food. Now she’s sitting on my window seal as I’m writing this. I am currently under my blanket & am listening to music ( show me by kid Ink) on my Bluetooth speaker. Life feels good.

- I am very proud of myself for deleting Snapchat. When I was in my sending addiction for validation from men I made quite some genuine ( I hope ? ) friends. I wanted to continue talking to them even tho I knew they were holding my back from 100% focusing on myself. But, today I deleted it! Hopefully in 3months I don’t see myself blocked by them. I told them beforehand that I’m deleting snap and I’ll talk to them in a few months. Now im going to focus on myself 100%. Tomorrow I want to wake up early and put eyelashes on, put fake tattoos on & even do this day of the week outfit video. It’s now 11:41pm. I am quite tired. School also feels less stressful now that I’m not focused on making friends or being anxious about what people think about me. I remind myself I’m only there to get education and that once I’m out of school, I feel so much better. :).

My cat is starting to meow so I’m going to pet her until she sleeps and I’m going to sleep as well! I’m planning to wake up at 5:00 tomorrow to be make sure I have enough time for school. Goodnight ;) I feel happy right now.

[yoan-portfolio]

The hidden “F-word” of the immigrant dating scene

How to recognize fetishization as a young woman abroad?

Imagine this - you are a twenty-something year old woman. You’ve spent your entire life in your home country, surrounded by the comfort of the familiar. Everyone looks similar to you, you share the same language and culture. Yet you’ve always longed for a life in the land of tea, bad weather and incomprehensible accents. So one day, you pack your bags, say teary goodbyes and in 8 hours, you cringe while everyone is clapping as your plane hits the ground at Heathrow.

The UK is your home now, and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad - it’s classy, you think, it’s multicultural! You fantasise about life in 5 years time - waking up in a trendy Soho apartment, grabbing a Pret on the way to the 9 to 5 job you absolutely adore. Life seems full of possibilities!

You meet your dream date for lunch on a Sunday. Everything seems perfect. He says you’re not like other girls. Then he orders you sushi and says how “kawaii” it is that you’re enjoying your native cuisine. You’re Taiwanese. What the fuck?

Welcome to the western dating scene, where your identity is tossed aside in favour of labels such as “exotic” and “fresh” which would only be fitting for a tropical fruit on the Tesco aisles. Which is in fact, what a lot of men see - a ripe, foreign delicacy they can take a bite of, before going back to eating Granny Smith apples. All the while, you just wish you could scream - I am not a fucking fruit!

The sushi in your mouth turns bitter as you are overcome with confusion, anger and self-doubt. It’s time to face it, you were just served fetishization for dessert.

Candice Chen, a 20-year-old architecture student, talked me through some of her most memorable, and dehumanising encounters with the “F- word”:

“On a night out in a club, I met this guy who was trying to chat me up. He was like ‘You’re gonna be really popular here tonight, but only because of Squid Game.’ Second thing he said was even worse ‘Oh, but I’m different, I’ve always liked Asians.’, which is such a red flag.“

Sooner or later, racialized women are put in the vicious circle of a losing game. They either adopt the stereotypes of desirability or feel othered and unlovable. Fetishization reduces the complex nature of women as individuals to a handful of easy to swallow, pleasant assumptions.

“People think saying things like that is ok, because they don’t stop to think how that might affect someone’s perception of themselves. Hearing someone genuinely say it makes me wonder what the reasons are every time I get hit on - is race the only thing they really see? Sometimes you can easily tell, for example if they say konnichiwa to me (that happened three times in a week). I was like ‘What is going on?’”

The idea of foreign women being seen as passive and exotic is more than a harmless stereotype. It makes them more susceptible to objectification other than the dating scene, as they are not perceived outside the lens of desirability. In 2021, an Atlanta shooter who murdered six Asian women in a spa, said he saw them as “a temptation he wanted to eliminate”. Meanwhile, police described it as nothing more than a young, white man’s  “bad day”.

Expert works focusing on the issue say fetishization is inherently paradoxical. Ethnic women are showered with sometimes contrasting and seemingly flattering assumptions, which are hard to recognize immediately. It results in a mindset dependent on eurocentric desirability, where many distinct cultures, backgrounds and lives are reduced to a collective, alienated, but exciting and exotic “other”.

Mea Aitken, a sociology graduate and fetishization researcher said: “I think when you exist in a racialized body you are othered in mainstream society and I believe this othering often leads to fetishization.

“There are many ways that fetishization is present in society. I think this is observed particularly in the dating scene where people, predominantly white people, will make comments to people of colour that reduce them to racialised tropes and stereotypes. As a black mixed-race woman, I observe this through the ways I am over-sexualised and perceived as hyper aggressive, and these stereotypes differ depending on how you are racialized. “

Pop culture doesn’t quite go against fetishization either. Ethnic women’s depiction in media such as 1995’s “Madame Butterfly” or play “Miss Saigon” is depersonalised and soaked in stereotypes. It’s like Asian women are reduced to a hypersexual object of fantasy, even in media which is meant to be centred around them.

Candice added: “With old Hollywood films you get the tropes of the Dragon Lady who is super sexy and has mystic powers like jade and dragons and stuff. She is crazy and dominant in bed but will also be a cute little wife who would never fight you. 

“With Asians, compared to other races, women are seen as exotic and sexy and different and hypersexual, but at the same time demure and “do whatever you say”, which is really weird. I feel like in mixed race relationships, Asian women always wonder if they have to be all of that to be desirable.”

So with media, dating and whatnot feeding us fetishization by the spoonful every day, is dating really that hopeless? Of course not. After all, you travelled half the world away to pursue your dream life (just keep thinking of the Soho apartment!). You are way more than a body, a skin colour, or a language. You are more than someone’s fantasy. In fact, you are someone’s dream.

Mea shared some of her methods to give fetishization the middle finger: “I think as racialized women we get encouraged to accept the bare minimum when people compliment us as we are socialised to think we are less desirable than our white counterparts.

“Still, we have the right to have standards for how we are treated. You shouldn’t have to accept being subjected to racially fetishising stereotypes and you certainly should not be expected to be complimented by this. I would encourage, if you feel able to, to talk about these experiences with people that you trust. I think racial fetishization can be an extremely isolating and complex experience so it is important to try and find a support network that can validate your lived experiences. Equally, if you feel in a position to, you have every right to call people out for their inappropriate behaviour.”

[manslaught]

of course that would be the thing tai decides to apologize for— something that's not her fault, not the long list of things she should be apologizing to mikayla for. but mikayla never actually expected an apology, because that would mean tai would have to actually feel sorry for the way she broke her heart, would have to give mikayla a second fucking thought. “ i am fucked up, though, ” she says dryly, annoyed that tai would suggest otherwise, as if she knows anything about her. she might not be fucked up in the way everyone thinks she is, but mikayla's not delusional enough to think she's okay, either. “ i almost killed myself a few weeks ago. on accident, but either way— not something normal fucking people do. not that you give a shit. ” the last part is mumbled under her breath, almost too quiet to hear, because it's said for herself, to remind herself that tai doesn't care.

mikayla feels the same shame she always does when she has to admit she's working for her mother, because it is embarrassing, knowing it's her only option— but it's aphrodite's fucking fault, because she left her alone with that man, she drove her to have no choice but to kill him, all because she couldn't handle being a mother to a kid she chose to have. it makes her angry, knowing that everything wrong in her life is a result of two shitty parents who did nothing but fuck their daughter up beyond repair, that she's the one everyone looks down on, never them. “ didn't really have a choice. not a lot of people want me anymore. ” including you, she almost adds, but she bites it back, knowing her voice might crack if she lets herself go there right now.

i'm glad she reached out causes mikayla to start laughing— but it's not the warm, genuine laugh tai used to hear during the rare moments in the wilderness when mikayla actually let herself laugh. it's sharp and cold, just like the rest of her, though at least there is some humor in it, because it's ridiculous, the idea of her mother being the one to reach out. that would mean mikayla desousa was someone worth reaching out to, and tai should know better than anyone that she's not. “ what the fuck— people don't reach out to me. i had to do it. i was fucking homeless, and she's rich, so— fuck her. ” she takes a deep breath in an attempt to get a hold of herself, because she's not here to talk about her mommy issues. she hates it, because she wished tai would have been there for her to talk to in the middle of all that, wished she could have told her how hard it was to look the mother who abandoned her in the eye and pretend she didn't care— but she can't tell her about that, because she's too busy doing the exact same thing now, with her. “ you two should meet, actually. you have a lot in common. ” both abandoned her in the name of becoming successful, both didn't seem to give a shit about how damaged it would leave her in the end, because who cares as long as they ended up okay. that's not her mother's story, and mikayla's sure tai might insist that's not hers, either, but neither changes the fact that that's what happened, intentional or not.

she feels smug when tai finally looks at her, because this is the only part she'd actually prepared for, because this is the only thing she can actually feel confident in— she might be fundamentally unloveable, she might be a horrible person, a monster, but she's still attractive, despite all the scars. it's all she has left, and yet— tai's response makes mikayla feel like even that's not enough, forcing her to consider one of her worst fears: is tai's fiancee hotter than mikayla? she already knows whoever the woman is must be better than her in every other way, because it's not hard to be, but if she's got that on mikayla, she won't know what to do. hearing that she's beautiful does nothing for her, even coming from tai, so she just rolls her eyes, brushing off the comment with a scoff. “ guess that means you never saw my mugshot. wasn't fucking beautiful there. ” it's a joke, because she knows there's no possible way tai could have avoided that picture, not when mikayla couldn't even escape it herself, five years after the fact.

it's hard for her not to compare the rings, knowing that mikayla couldn't give her anything like this. not back then, at least— she could now, but that doesn't matter, because taissa doesn't want her anymore, because she left her behind for a reason, found someone else for a reason. “ because ours was bullshit, ” she grumbles, though she doesn't just mean the ring. she means the entire marriage. it wasn't bullshit to her back then— it was what she wanted, something that made her feel alive, because even when everything around them was terrifying, at least she still had the girl she loved, at least she was finally loved back. but she's been left to realize that it was bullshit to taissa, that she just went along with it because mikayla asked for it, and she's irritated that tai's still playing along with it, as if she needs to. she glances back up at tai, and the feigned amusement begins to fade, replaced with annoyance, disbelief. “ you fought for a fucking string, but not for— ” me, but she cuts herself off with a dry laugh, trying again to brush it off, to pretend that all of this is funny to her, not completely fucking agonizing.

her lip curls in disgust at the sound of tai's fiancee's name, because she didn't want to fucking know what it was— she doesn't want to know anything about her, because she knows she's just going to compare herself to anything she learns, and she's trying to get her confidence back, not watch it crumble apart even more. “ i just wanted to warn her about how... conditional your love is. the second she fucks up, she's gonna lose it, right? taissa turner can't stand to be with someone who ruins her image. ” and no, mikayla was never perfect, but out there, her selfishness, her impulsiveness, her violence, all of it was useful, especially to tai— but none of that's necessary anymore, which, mikayla assumes, is why it was to easy for tai to just throw her away, just like everyone else.

“ i'm just kidding. i'm not here to fuck up your engagement. in fact, i'm happy for you. ” for once, it's only half a lie. because she still loves tai, still wants the best for her, even if that's no longer mikayla, so there is a part of her that's glad she found happiness, that she could move on even if mikayla can't, but it still fucking kills her at the same time. “ for her sake, i hope you love simone more than you loved your fake wife. ” she smiles, like the thought doesn't sting, but it's also the truth— tai didn't love mikayla enough to stay, to actually hold true to any of her vows, so for simone's sake, she hopes tai loves her more than that, because even mikayla desousa, as selfish as she is, wouldn't wish this pain on anyone. “ and actually— i can help. with the wedding, not the rest of it. ” mikayla pulls a business card from the inside of her bra, kept there intentionally, in anticipation of this moment exactly, and slides it toward tai, forcing her smile to widen. “ my mom, like— loves love, or whatever, no matter how many times i tell her it's fucking bullshit. so weddings are kind of her thing. ”

her jaw clenches when she explains why she’s heard about her— because if it had been anyone else,  she would’ve taken pleasure in hearing that.   it’s exactly what she’s always wanted,  for everyone,  people she knew and strangers alike,  to see her as the one who succeeded —  like they’d never have a doubt in it in the first place.  she gets a rise out of it when she sees the others,  when she knows she’s doing better—  but it’s not about them.  it’s about her.  it’s about lying to herself,  convincing herself that she actually is doing as well as it looks.  she’s not,  but she won’t admit that to herself.  still, the idea of people comparing mikayla to her does hurt,  makes her regret the way she’s approached it all this time.   still, successful is more comforting than ‘good’— because she doesn’t think that’s what she’ll ever be.   ❝  i’m— sorry for that.  they shouldn’t,  ❞   she insists,  her nose crinkling as she looks at her awkwardly.  ❝  that’s not even— you’re not fucked up.   people have said the same thing about me,  ❞   she insists,  though it’s something she doesn’t normally admit.   ❝  but they don’t know us. ❞   she doesn’t want to admit the same thing to mikayla— that people have compared them to her, too, and she doesn’t go down without a fight. 

she's usually so good at keeping her composure after years of practice,  given all the questions and comments she's heard that were bound to make her uncomfortable,  but always unwilling to give anyone the satisfaction of catching her off guard.  yet when mikayla mentions her mother,  her face drops too obviously,  her brows furrowing in confusion,  lips quivering with nerves.  maybe some part of her is well aware that she has no right to ask —   but the idea of sidestepping it entirely feels wrong, too, and taissa realizes that maybe that was intentional.   ❝  your mom,  ❞   she repeats,  forcing her breath to steady as she nods her head slowly.  ❝  so you,  you work for your  . .  .  mother?  ❞   she asks,  and she almost lets out a small laugh in disbelief,  but she holds it back,  because she realizes it may only seem like she's laughing at mikayla,  and that's certainly not her intention.  ❝  that’s—    that's great, mikayla,  ❞   she says,  her voice formal again.  ❝  i'm glad she reached out,  ❞   she says,  assuming that she's saying the right thing,  because maybe she'd simply be hopeful that one of mikayla's parents wouldn't completely let her down.   she hasn't considered that mikayla would've reached out herself.

her jaw clenches when mikayla notes her appearance —   taissa's been trying not to look,  because if she allows herself to truly focus on mikayla,  then she'll completely lose herself in her again,  and she can't afford to do that.   not when she's committed to this life without her - —   and hasn't it been for the best?  there's stability in her life.  she's successful.  she's —  happy,  or at least what appears to be happy from the outside,  something she doesn't care much about beyond that.  she's not weighed down by the trauma she endured.  the sleepwalking stopped upon rescue,  and she has to assume that's because she was intentional in severing all ties.   she's right where she's supposed to be,  she thinks,  even if it's maybe not where she wants to be.  some things still call for sacrifices.   but she can't help it,  her eyes glance down to mikayla's body,  her teeth just barely tugging at her lips before she quickly brings her eyes back to hers.  ❝   —    i'll just take it from you,  ❞   she says, her skin crawling suddenly,  like she's done something wrong for even entertaining the thought.   ❝  but you've always been beautiful,  mikayla.   i don't need proof to know that,  ❞    she insists,  because surely,  that kind of honesty is better than what she's thinking  —   that she's seen it before,  that she's thought about her many lonely nights,  even nights she's had someone by her side.  seeing her now is likely going to threaten whatever peace she's convinced herself she's found without her —  but she's trying not to dwell.

she looks away at the mention of her fiancee.  she does love simone,  that much she's certain about after so long of asking herself whether or not she does.  she's one of the most impressive people she's ever met —  intelligent, mature, driven, kind.  her heart is full of love that taissa basks in —  and selfishly,  taissa liked dating someone who seemed just as successful as her,  who might have even made tai's own edges softer in a way that she used to be afraid she wasn't capable of being.  but the question of whether or not she's in love with this woman has always been more difficult to answer —   she has every reason to be,  considering.  she's the perfect woman,  and more than that:  she never pushes taissa to talk about her past, the way many other girls have tried when tai attempted to date in the past.  it's a major part of why she'd gotten so comfortable with simone so fast,   and why it was easy to accept this new chapter in their life despite having not truly considering marriage before.  but the 'yes' taissa gave her wasn't about passion —  it was about solidifying some goal on her agenda,  because if she had this part of her life settled,  then she could keep thriving—   and she could maybe accept that the past is totally in the past, and she's no longer hung up on the one woman who ever truly had her love  (   but some things are harder to force upon herself than others.   )  

she does love her.  this conversation should bring her joy —  a chance to clear the air with mikayla and tell her that she's moved on, she's happy, and mikayla will find another woman she loves the same way someday.  but she'd never been good at lying to mikayla.  and maybe there's a part of her that hopes mikayla does see right through her and knows that she's still on her mind,  despite tai's best efforts to stop thinking about her.  but it's hard to have any faith in that,  when mikayla seems so appalled by everything tai's done in her absence.  she tries to shake that shame—   the same way she tries when nat's so quick to scoff at the life she's crafted for herself.  at least shauna seems happy for her—   but is that really the victory she wants it to be when she herself has been appalled by the fake life shauna's decided to live?   

she barely realizes what mikayla's doing,  stumbling over some incoherent words to stop her,  her first clenching in her pocket before it's ripped out.  she lets out a sigh,  eyes widened,  as if she's been caught doing something she shouldn't.  her first unclenches,  fingers spread out —  and it's like she's practiced,  because it feels like she has,  everyone dying to see the ring and tai forced to listen to all the "oohs" and "ahhs" like this isn't a blatant reminder of the life taissa's choosing to settle for  (  but it's the right choice, she's usually good at reminding herself—   but that was when it wasn't mikayla holding her arm now.  )   she hates the way her touch seems to burn,  how it gives her a craving she's been silencing for years.  her body leans forward,  like it's suddenly discovered mikayla's magnetic pull,  and she forces a deep breath to try to ignore the way it all stings.  she doesn't want to look at the ring in her hand—   instead,  she looks at mikayla's features,  like that's a better option.  it's not,  because the hurt on her features makes tai feel sick,  her stomach turning and her hand starting to tremble lightly.   she looks down at the ground instead,  silently pleading to mikayla that she stop torturing them both.  

when mikayla finally does say something, her eyes meet hers again.   'it's not my style,'  she wants to say,  just as she always wants to every time someone compliments it.  but it feels like a lie —   simone picked out a beautiful ring,  one that certainly is tai's style,  at least the taissa she's framed herself to be with everyone she's met since rescue.   she lets out a heavy breath,  glaring back at mikayla,  because she knows she's lying.  or maybe she just wants her to be,  because the idea of mikayla actually being happy for her makes her feel strange—   considering this life she's submitted to came at the cost of losing mikayla.  her face falls again when she mentions the hoodie string.  simone doesn't know about tai's previous marriage—   it felt silly to talk about,  knowing no one on the outside would understand what that was.  because from the outside,  it isn't real,  it was just a coping mechanism,  it was just a bunch of teenagers trying to make sense of their world.  but for taissa,  and hopefully for mikayla,  it was the most real thing she'd ever experienced,  something that made her feel like home still existed,  like she was protected and safe and secure all because she had the woman she loved with her.  and when everything felt totally out of their control out there,  at least that hoodie string on her finger reminded that they weren't completely lost,  that she still had something to live for.  she never forgot what that meant to her.  and that meant more to her than any real ring,  no matter the cost.   but admitting to that feels wrong,  and probably insulting to both women in question. 

❝  i don’t think the two can be compared,  ❞   she insists,  looking back at mikayla with longing—  she doesn’t catch herself,  but she does think about her words,  realizing that it may seem like the first ring meant nothing.  ❝  — i just mean, that one was personal.  ❞    which implies this one isn’t,  and she realizes that, but she refuses to backtrack.  ❝  i don’t compare the rings.  ��   rings, intentional, because the rest,  it’s hard not to compare.  she frowns, shaking her head.  ❝  and— you know,  i had to fight the doctors not to take it away.  my parents, too—  ❞   she quickly purses her lips together,  because it’s too close to a confession:  i still have it, i’d never lose it.   she waves her hand, trying to brush it off,  but the ‘love of your life’ comment makes her stomach turn again,  and she wants to scream back at her:   you know that’s you, don’t you?   and that’s fine, at least that’s what tai’s told herself.  mikayla will always be her greatest love.  her only love.  but it didn’t work out,  and it wasn’t ever going to if tai wanted to keep moving forward,  so she refused to let herself dwell.   ❝  simone,  ❞   she starts with emphasis,  because the title mikayla gave her just isn’t right.  ❝  — is working.  ❞   and do you actually want to meet her—?   ❝  she won’t be around today.   so,  you don’t have to pretend you’re dying to meet her,  ❞   she insists, raising a brow to see if she’s right in the suspicion.  

[secular-jew]

Arab Historian Admits there is No Palestinian People

One of the biggest, most stubborn and costliest untruths of our time is the notion that the jihad waged by Arabs in the Palestinian Authority (PA) and Gaza against Jews in Israel is a national struggle of an indigenous people for independence.No matter the facts, the lie persists to the tune of billions of dollars in international aid and political prestige, which makes it increasingly difficult for anyone involved to admit that the whole thing is nothing more than a propaganda stunt.Unlike the fairy tale of ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes’, everyone pretends to be blind and deaf when it is pointed out that the emperor is naked. In fact, if the emperor himself were to stand up and yell, ‘I am naked folks, go home!’ the crowd would go on complimenting his non-existent garments.Last week the naked emperor did just that:“Before the Balfour Promise, when the Ottoman rule [1517-1917] ended, Palestine’s political borders as we know them today did not exist, and there was nothing called a Palestinian people with a political identity as we know today”, historian Abd Al-Ghani admitted on official PA TV on November 1.“Since Palestine’s lines of administrative division stretched from east to west and included Jordan and southern Lebanon, and like all peoples of the region [the Palestinians] were liberated from the Turkish rule and immediately moved to colonial rule, without forming a Palestinian people’s political identity.”In 1917, says this Arab historian on official PA TV, there was no such thing as a Palestinian people. This statement amounts to saying that the whole narrative of an ‘indigenous Palestinian people’ was made up at a later point in time.As Hamas Minister of the Interior and of National Security Fathi Hammad speaking on Al-Hekma TV said in March 2012: “Brothers, half of the Palestinians are Egyptians and the other half are Saudis. Who are the Palestinians? We have many families called Al-Masri, whose roots are Egyptian. Egyptian! They may be from Alexandria, from Cairo, from Dumietta, from the North, from Aswan, from Upper Egypt. We are Egyptians…”There is a reason, why the “Palestinian National Museum” is empty of historical artifacts.The Arab historian’s admission corroborates the observations of 19th century travelers to the region, who notably had no specific political agenda when they visited, unlike so many visitors to Israel today:”Outside the gates of Jerusalem, we saw indeed no living object, heard no living sound”, wrote French poet Alphonse de Lamartine about his visit in 1835.”The country is in a considerable degree empty of inhabitants and therefore its greatest need is that of a body of population.” wrote British Consul James Finn in his 1857 description of the Holy Land.”Palestine sits in a sackcloth and ashes. Over it broods the spell of a curse that withered its fields and fettered its energies. …Palestine is desolate and unlovely….It is a hopeless dreary, heartbroken land.” wrote American author Mark Twain in his description of his visit in 1867.Nevertheless, the Arab propaganda machine gets away with publishing fantastic falsehoods, such as this one on the Palestinian Authority’s tourism website: “With a history that envelops more than one million years, Palestine has played an important role in human civilization. The crucible of prehistoric cultures, it is where settled society, the alphabet, religion, and literature developed, and would become a meeting place for diverse cultures and ideas that shaped the world we know today”.The international community not only approves of these falsehoods, it happily pays for them.Historian Abd Al-Ghani’s declaration on PA TV was a historic, highly newsworthy admission that ought to have made the headlines everywhere, considering the importance the issue is given by political leaders, diplomats, the media and other establishment figures all over the world.After all, if the Arabs themselves admit that the ‘Palestinian people’ is an invented entity, should not the consequence be that the countless UN projects, billions of dollars in international aid, and the endless campaigns against Israel cease and be used for more noble purposes?The answer is yes, but no one is paying attention.We live in a post-factual world. Facts no longer have any currency, unlike feelings and ideological posturing. The truth has been reduced to a troublesome inconvenience and if it happens to stare you in the face, nothing could be easier than closing your eyes or simply looking away.

https://en.mida.org.il/2017/11/09/arab-historian-admits-no-palestinian-people/

[mermaidenisaacs]

isaac is bad at feelings

it goes like this: you get sad, you text isaac, he comes over and makes it all better. 

feat. stiles, who knows the vibes

🎶 telepatía - kali uchis 🎶 

The morning afters were always the same. 

I usually woke up first. Sometimes I climbed out of my bed and carefully tiptoed into the bathroom, where I sloshed a bit of mouthwash, rubbed the gunk out of my eye, and slipped back underneath my sheets before Isaac woke up. The first face he’d see was mine. I did what I could to make it look kind of okay.

It’s not that I thought he would judge me if I looked bad. He wasn’t that kind of friend. He was just the kind of friend I fucked on occasion, when we both had nothing better to do and found ourselves lonely and a little unloved. 

We both had a bad habit of avoiding the heaps of repressed childhood trauma that lurked in the dark corners of our minds. Some days were harder than others. On those days, sometimes the only comfort we found was in each other. And what were friends for, if not that? 

Isaac stirred awake. He blinked twice, clearing the sleepy haze shrouding his eyes. His eyes focused on me and his face broke into a marshmallow sweet smile. He looked adorable, and I was as fond of him as ever. 

He was laying on his side. The morning sun peeked through the blinds, reflecting off the floating stardust in the air. The light landed on Isaac, his sandy brown curls and his sporadically freckled skin. He was golden. In the moment, he looked younger, warmer, unburdened, happy.

“Morning,” he said. The sound of his greeting came out deep and gravely. His morning voice was, as always, a bit much. 

“Morning,” I hummed.

“How long have you been awake?” 

“Not too long.” 

“That’s good. I guess it’s not as creepy to watch someone while they’re sleeping if you do it for not too long.” 

I laughed. “I wasn’t watching you. Just, casually observing. You look really peaceful when you’re sleeping, did you know? Like, peaceful and serene and beautiful.” 

Isaac raised his brow playfully. “Beautiful? Are you trying to be romantic? Is that what we’re doing now?” 

I snorted and rolled over to face away from him. “No way.” 

The weight shifted on the mattress as he scooted closer and his soft lips brushed against my shoulder. Isaac’s chest was warm and solid, protective behind me. 

“I’m just kidding,” he said softly. “Anyway, you’re the one who looks beautiful when you’re sleeping. Also when you’re awake. Anytime you’re existing, really.” His lips trailed up my shoulder and he brushed my hair away from my neck to kiss me there. A hand snaked around my torso and turned me over to face him. 

I playfully rolled my eyes. “Whatever. You’re just complimenting me because you have morning wood and you want to fuck.” 

He tsked disapprovingly. “Way to ruin the moment. You’re always so quick to doubt my motives. It’s not my fault you don’t know how to take a compliment.” 

I shoved him back lightly, flipping us over so I was straddling him around his waist. “It’s not your compliments that I want.” 

Pushing Isaac’s boxers down his thighs, I positioned his already swollen cock at my wet entrance and slipped him inside me. Isaac emitted a shuddered breath as I took in all of him. I pushed up and brought my hips back down, creating a slow rhythm.

Isaac sucked in his breath. “Fuck, fuck, come here.” 

He tangled his fingers in my hair and brought down my forehead to rest against his. I braced my hands on either side of him and rolled my hips. Isaac pinched one of my nipples, twisted it between his fingers and kneaded my other breast. 

I sighed in pleasure, arching into him as a familiar sensation pooled underneath my stomach. I moved my hips faster. Isaac steadied my urgent movements with his arms locked around me. He held me still so he could pump into me from below. I sighed in pleasure. From this angle, I felt him deep inside me, felt every ridge, every vein on his cock against every inch of my walls. 

“Oh god, fuck, Isaac, please,” I moaned pathetically. My nails dug into his shoulders while he slammed into me. It was a lot. It was always a lot, in the best way. I still wasn’t used to the fact that my fuck buddy was a teenage wolf-human hybrid with lots of energy to expend in the morning, or really at any point during the day.

In the corner of my eye, I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. If we took too long, we’d be late for school. Reaching under me, I rubbed my clit and moved my hips with Isaac’s. 

“Isaac, please I’m so close, please don’t stop, right there…” 

Isaac rutted his hips and sank deep into me, and then we were both coming with strangled groans. I felt his smile against my skin, mirroring my own that he couldn’t see.  

~*~*~*~

Later that morning, I drove us to school, rolling my eyes when Isaac said that it’d be faster if he just carried me on his back and ran there. 

“You can’t carry me,” I said. “I’m not skinny.” 

“And what of it? Your body’s amazing,” he replied without missing a beat, “and I would, and could, carry you anywhere.”

I chuckled. “Whatever, wolf boy.”

“Your car really is a piece of shit.”

I lightly punched Isaac’s shoulder. “My car’s fine. You’re free to get out and walk your ungrateful ass to school.” 

Isaac rubbed his shoulder and chuckled. “So um,” he said hesitantly, “thanks again for letting me come over last night.”

I frowned. “You know you don’t have to thank me for that.” 

“Yeah, I do. I just don’t ever want you to think I’m using my nightmares and my issues as like, a pick up line to get into your pants or something. I would never take advantage of you.” 

Briefly, I glanced over. He was looking at me with a peculiar expression. He looked sincere, and because I was emotionally stunted, it made me uncomfortable. I chuckled to dispel the tension in the air. 

“Don’t worry,” I said. “You’re not taking advantage of anything. I do what I want, nothing more or less. You don’t have to treat me like I’m a virginal princess and you’re like, some big bad wolf stealing my flower.” I laughed at the idea that Isaac could ever be predatory in any way. “And it’s not like I don’t need you too. We’re there for each other because we’re friends. We’ll always be friends.” 

“Friends. Good, that’s good…” Isaac trailed off. 

“Um, is there something else you want to tell me?” I asked. It sounded like there was something unsaid lingering in the air.

After a few beats of silence, Isaac casually replied, “Nope, that’s it. Just wanted to make sure we were alright, that’s all.” 

That wasn’t all. I could detect the slight uneasiness in his voice. I knew in my gut something was off, but I was a coward, and I hated confronting people, so I didn’t. Instead, I decided to turn up the radio and pretend everything was fine, while a tiny little knowing voice in my head mocked me the rest of the car ride to school.

~*~*~*~

The ominous feeling from the morning stayed with me throughout the day. At noon, I waited for Isaac to show up in the cafeteria at our usual lunch table with the pack. After waiting fifteen minutes, I started to get a little concerned.

I turned to Erica. “Have you seen Isaac? He’s not answering my texts.” 

Erica smirked. “Worried about your boyfriend?”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend.” 

“So I’m just supposed to believe you sneak a boy into your room every night to chit chat and do homework? Are we that innocent?”  

I shrugged. “I can be innocent.”

Erica laughed. “You haven’t been innocent since we were fifteen. But I think I saw Isaac earlier headed to the boys’ locker room.”

With that information, I left to go find Isaac, briskly walking through the hallways. I turned a corner and stopped dead in my tracks, suddenly wishing I’d never left the safe confines of the cafeteria. 

I was about twenty feet away from the locker room entrance where I saw Isaac standing in front of a girl, his hand on her waist, her lips near his ear giggling and whispering, his face buried into her neck. And then he kissed her. In the middle of the hallway in front of everyone, not caring who might see them. Not caring if I might see them. 

I stepped backwards until I was shielded behind the wall. I was hurt, but I didn’t even feel like I deserved to be. Isaac and I weren’t together. He was free to do whatever he wanted. We were just friends. I told him so this morning.

I mentally smacked my forehead. My own stupidity always came back to haunt me. This was what Isaac was trying to tell me in the car. 

I returned to the cafeteria and sat next to Erica and stared blankly at my lunch tray. I didn’t know how to feel. There had always been this unspoken rule between me and Isaac that we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other. He had told me he didn’t want to take advantage of me but that’s exactly what it felt like. 

He was messing around with another girl. For all I knew, there were many other girls. And he had kept it a secret. His withholding information by default made the scales uneven. Before, everything felt balanced and fair, but now, the dynamic felt different. I trusted him and he didn’t give me the same trust back. 

If Isaac was just a casual friend, it wouldn’t hurt this much. I naively thought he and I had something different. I thought he was different.

Erica gently shook my shoulder. “Babe?” I felt too embarrassed to even look at her. “What’s wrong? Did you find Isaac?” 

“Oh um, no I didn’t uh, I didn’t see him.” Erica soothingly raked her nails across my back and I relaxed into her touch. There was no way she bought my bullshit lie, and I loved her for not pressing me about it. “Hey um, remember last week when you said I should start dating again?”

“Um, yeah. You said you weren’t interested though, right?” 

“I did say that, but I am now,” I said. “But I’m not exactly interested in dating someone. I just need a distraction, you know?” 

“Hm,” Erica said. “That can be arranged too. But what changed your mind?” 

I shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing really. My old distraction isn’t working for me anymore. I need something new.” 

~*~*~*~

Erica suggested I meet up with one of one of her old casual hook-ups. When she first told me who it was, I was flummoxed. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense when Erica told me I should go out with Stiles Stilinski. 

Since Erica pre-approved him for me, I knew he was someone I could trust and someone who probably knew what they were doing. I wasn’t super close to him either, which would help with avoiding another Isaac situation where I was too enmeshed with the person. Overall, Stiles was a pretty ideal distraction.

It turned out that he was also pretty into the idea of us linking up. My phone kept vibrating with his texts the whole time I drove home from school. As I walked to my room, I opened my unread messages, except ones that were from Isaac.  

3:20 pm: Hey, this is Stiles. Well you probably knew that. Unless you don’t have my number saved 

3:22 pm: Which isn’t a big deal considering we’ve never really talked that much

3:25 pm: Anyway Erica just texted me and told me that we’re hanging out tonight? 

3:25 pm: We as in you and me, not me and Erica. That’s been over for a long time 

3:26 pm: We didn’t date or anything don’t worry 

3:26 pm: Anyway what I’m trying to say is that I’m totally down. I’m just a little confused

3:30 pm: Are we going out, like out out? Or are we just hanging out? Or is it like what Erica and I used to do?

3:34 pm: Sorry I’m making this weird. I’ll just pick you up tonight around 8 for dinner. Cya then :) 

I was reading his last message as I opened the door to my bedroom, chuckling at Stiles’s messages, when I jumped backwards and yelped at the sight of Isaac laying casually on my bed. 

“Jesus, you scared me,” I muttered. He simply grinned. 

“Sorry, but I think it’d be fair to say you’re easily spooked.” 

I stared back impassively, ignoring his playful quip. “What are you doing here?” I crossed my arms over my chest. 

Isaac shrugged. “Had nothing to do after school.” 

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, so it’s just a convenience thing? You just show up whenever you want when you have nothing better to do?” 

Isaac frowned and sat up. “You never had a problem with me showing up here unannounced before. What’s wrong? Are you mad at me?” 

“Nope,” I lied. “I just don’t have time to deal with you right now.” 

I knew why he was here. To him, I was just an easy fuck. No different than the girl he was pressed up against at school and probably the countless other girls who gave him full access to whatever he wanted. “I need to shower and study.” 

“Okay? I’m not stopping you. I need to study too. We can study together.”

I turned on my heel and lifted my shirt over my shoulder, walking topless to my hamper to discard the garment. “I don’t have time to study with you. I’m going out later.” 

After unzipping my jeans and pulling them down my legs, I threw them on top of the pile of dirty laundry. Standing there in my bra and underwear, for the first time, I truly felt naked in front of Isaac. I’d grown so accustomed to him seeing me without clothes on that it stopped phasing me, but I couldn’t get the image of Isaac kissing another girl out of my head. 

I always used to feel so safe around him. For once, I felt vulnerable in front of Isaac.

“You’re going out?” Isaac rose to his feet. “With who?” 

“Stiles.”

Isaac blinked. After a few moments, he said, “Oh I’m sorry, are you not kidding?” 

“Why would I be kidding?” I challenged.

The corners of Isaac’s mouth turned down in a thoughtful, indifferent frown. “I just didn’t know you two were close like that.” Isaac scoffed again. “Wait, I’m sorry, I can’t get past this. Stiles? How the hell did that happen?” 

I chuckled, remembering that Isaac and Stiles hated each other. “He’s cute, and I like him. He texted me earlier, so we’re going out.” 

Isaac shook his head. “I feel like you’ve lost your mind, but I suppose I can’t stop you.” 

Just like you couldn’t stop yourself from shoving your tongue down random girls’ throats, I thought bitterly. 

“So, are you gonna fuck him?” 

I snorted. “Excuse me? How is that any of your business?”

“It is if we’re fucking.” 

My jaw fell open. “Holy shit, you’re unbelievable. You know what? We’re not anymore.” 

“Seriously?” When I didn’t respond, he laughed in disbelief. “You’re joking. You can’t be ending this over Stilinski.” 

“I’m not. I just don’t want to do this anymore.” 

Isaac blinked. “You know I can tell when you’re lying right?” 

“Whatever. I don’t care if you’re listening to my heart rate or reading my perspiration levels or my scent or whatever. None of that means anything. What matters is what I’m telling you, and I’m telling you this is over. You should leave.”

For a brief moment, Isaac looked taken aback, hurt evident in his slightly wide eyes. “Come on, you don’t seriously mean that.” 

He stepped forward and I stepped back. He looked surprised again. He walked us backwards until my back met the wall. He lifted his hand and with his pinky, gently brushed a stray lock of hair from the side of my face. I turned away and placed a hand on his chest. 

“Isaac, I don’t…” Faintly, I tried to protest. I really did. But Isaac Lahey was not someone who made it easy to resist. He lifted my chin and softly pressed his lips to mine. I kissed him back, a sudden impulse fueled by longing and self-loathing overriding my will power. I pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, groaning when his hand slid down my back and squeezed my ass. 

Somewhere in the room, I heard my phone send out a loud text notification ding!. Oh right, reality. 

I shoved Isaac’s chest and pushed him away. He stumbled slightly, his face full of confusion and sadness. I felt a twinge of remorse. At the end of the day, I didn’t want to hurt him. There was a soft spot in my heart and Isaac had made it his home a long time ago. But I couldn’t do this anymore. It was too painful.

“Just go please,” I said quietly. This time, he listened. 

~*~*~*~

At 8 o’clock, I saw Stiles parked outside my house. I knocked on the window of his jeep, and in doing so, inadvertently scared him. Stiles jumped and hit his head on the roof of his car. I heard a muffled “what the fu-oh hey!” I gave him a guilty smile and a small wave. He rubbed his cranial injury and fumbled with his door handle, finally managing to step outside. 

“Hey,” he said. “Sorry about that. I was on my phone and I wasn’t paying attention and… you look really pretty.” He cleared his throat. “Is that okay to say? Because we’re sort of friends and now we’re going… out…? But not like, going out, not like that. Unless um, are we? Because Erica kind of implied that this was just to... you know... I mean, it’s totally possible that I misconstrued her words and we are actually going out? Or… fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying.” 

Poor kid. 

He’d texted me about 10 minutes ago to tell me he was in front of my house. He was early and I was nowhere near ready. After I had finished combing mascara through my lashes, I looked at myself in the mirror, mostly indifferent at my reflection, but a little disgusted. I wasn’t thrilled by the idea of using Stiles to distract myself from Isaac, but it’s not like Stiles was naive. He was Erica’s fuck buddy once upon a time. He knew the vibes. 

Erica was supposed to tell Stiles this was purely a hookup, casual and unofficial, but considering he wanted to pick me up and take me to dinner, some signals might’ve gotten crossed. 

I laid my hand on his shoulder and smiled. “Hey, Stiles, relax. It’s only me. I just needed to get out and have some fun, no pressure. We’ll figure things out as we go, okay? And thank you! You look nice too.” 

I reached up to adjust the collar of his flannel button down. He smiled at the gesture, and I noticed for the first time that he had a really nice jawline. There was also a cluster of moles on his face and his neck, sixteen in total. Cute.

“Thanks,” he said shyly. “So, shall we?” He jogged to the other side of his car and held open the door, beaming back with a toothy grin. 

I giggled, and the tension in my shoulders unfurled. There was nothing to fret over. This was Stiles, the least intimidating person ever.

Everything was going to be fine. 

~*~*~*~

My “date” with Stiles was going surprisingly well. He let me play my music in his car, lovingly calling my playlist a “pretentiously indie softcore mess.” I pretended to be offended and played three more Bon Iver songs just to spite him. 

At dinner, we slid into a booth at a colorful diner. He ordered a hamburger, a chocolate milkshake, and curly fries, then made fun of me for ordering a veggie burger, water, and sweet potato fries. I playfully punched him in the arm when he tried to steal some of them. 

“What kind of self-respecting woman would I be if I just let you steal my food right after you made fun of it?” I quipped. 

“First of all, I was making fun of you, not the food,” I gasped in mock offense. “And second of all, I just wanted to understand how you could give up meat and dairy for something that looks like dog food and cardboard. Now I’m making fun of your food.” 

I snorted. The thing about Stiles was that even when he was roasting you, he had the unique ability to put you at ease, just by virtue of treating everyone the same way. He could be sarcastic and blunt and unnervingly confrontational, but he was that way towards everyone. Maybe if I hung out with him enough, those qualities would rub off on me. 

“How dare you?” I said. “Just for that, I’m stealing some of your fries.” I reached across the table and snagged the biggest curl of greasy potato from his plate. 

Stiles stared at me blankly. “If you wanted real fries, you could’ve just ordered them.” 

“Hmm, it’s more fun this way,” I said cheerily. 

“Wow, I have half a mind to out of this diner right now, but you’re cute, so I’ll allow it.” He leaned back against the booth and grinned. I smiled shyly at the unexpected compliment and stared down at my lap. “So, what’s your deal?” he asked. 

I looked up. “My deal?”

“Yeah. Erica hits me up out of nowhere and tells me to take you out, which I don’t mind at all. We’ve just never been particularly close.” 

I nibbled on a fry. “What do you want to know?”

“Just tell me why we’re really here.” 

I paused. “You’ll judge me if I do.” 

Stiles tilted his head to the side and crossed his arms over his chest. “Unless the reason you’re with me right now is that you need an alibi for a murder scheme, I probably won’t judge you, but even then…” I gave him a small smile and shrugged. “Here,” he extended his pinkie, “I promise I won’t judge, okay?” 

I laughed and twisted my pinkie with his. “Okay.” 

I told him about the casual arrangement I had with Isaac, getting jealous after seeing him kiss another girl, asking Erica to set me up with a distraction, getting into a fight with Isaac, and finally ending our whole arrangement. 

“Wow,” he said. 

“Yep.” 

“First of all, Isaac Lahey? Doesn’t deserve you. You could do way better. Second, should I be offended or flattered that I’m just being passed around to different girls as a distraction? And third…” Stiles reached forward and laid his hand over mine, “I’m sorry this is all happening to you. I know what it’s like to see the person I’m into be all over someone else.” 

I was nodding along until he said the last part. “Wait, what? I’m not into Isaac,” I said incredulously.  

“Yeah, you kinda are. Why else would you be upset that he kissed someone else?” 

“Um, because he hid it from me?” 

“Nah, I’m not buying it.” 

“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes and tried to retract my hand from his. 

Stiles grinned and gripped my hand tighter. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay to have feelings for him. Just don’t fall in love with me too, kid.” He winked. 

I tried to give him an unimpressed stare, but I couldn’t help the giggles that bubbled out of my throat. “I’ll try.” 

“I know, I’m pretty hard to resist.” Stiles looked me dead in the eye, grabbed his milkshake, opened his mouth to take a sip and missed the straw completely, aimlessly moving his head and searching for it with his tongue. I laughed at him so loud that people gave me judgmental stares.

~*~*~*~

After we left the diner, we climbed back into his jeep. I graciously allowed Stiles to turn on the radio. In the spirit of our mutual dislike for Isaac, we loudly sang along to “I Don’t Fuck With You.” I realized I hadn’t felt sad about Isaac the entire time I’d been out with Stiles. Erica was right; he was the perfect distraction. 

We were still parked outside the diner. I looked over at Stiles. Suddenly, I had the overwhelming urge to lean over the console and kiss Stiles on the cheek, so I did. I started moving away, but before I could, he surged forward and connected our lips. We were kissing for about four seconds before he pulled away. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t know why I did that.”  

“It’s cool,” I said, licking my bottom lip. Stiles tasted like the strawberry from his milkshake. “Wanna do it again?”

His mouth parted slightly. He looked surprised. “Really?” Without answering, I closed the distance between us and kissed him again, on his lips this time. 

I grabbed the back of his neck and mushed our mouths closer. His lips tasted sweet. His sugar-coated tongue slipped into my mouth. He placed his hand timidly on my bare thigh where my dress had ridden up. 

Stiles was a good kisser. I liked the feeling of his hands on my body and his lips on my lips, but even in the midst of all this, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Isaac, kissing him just this morning because we had woken up in the same bed together.

I tried to get my mind off him and focus on what Stiles was doing. Stiles kissing the corner of my mouth, Stiles grazing his lips against my jaw, then my neck, every once in a while tasting my skin with his tongue. He was sucking on my collarbone when my phone started buzzing in the cup holder. 

I tried to ignore it, but against the plastic container, it was rattling obnoxiously. I pulled away, despite Stiles’s little whine of protest. “I’m sorry, let me just turn it off-oh.” 

“What?” Stiles asked. 

“It’s Isaac. What do I do?” I asked, a little panicked.

“I want to give you unbiased advice,” Stiles said, “but I currently have a boner, so my interests are a little biased at the moment.” 

I ignored the call, but the moment was already ruined.

~*~*~*~

Since I couldn’t get back into the mood, Stiles offered to just drive me home. The car ride was silent and awkward and sexually frustrating all at once, and it was all Isaac’s fault. 

“I’m sorry,” I said as Stiles pulled into my driveway. 

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault your ex boy toy takes every chance to screw me over.” 

I chuckled. “Guess we’re both getting screwed by him.” I nervously picked at chipped polish on my nail. “Hey Stiles?” 

“Hm?”

“Do you maybe wanna come inside?” I asked before I lost my nerve, hoping Stiles would understand what I was really asking him.

Stiles licked his lips. “Really?” Seemed like he understood pretty clearly.

I shrugged. “Offer’s on the table.” 

Stiles pursed his mouth and squinted at me. “Do you wanna do this just to get back at Isaac, or are you actually into me like that?” 

“Is it bad if I say both?”

“Maybe, but I’m no better, because I do want to come inside. Your house. Not-” I clapped my hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter. “Shut up,” he muttered, which only made me laugh harder.

I reached for the door handle, but Stiles stopped me. I was confused until he jogged around the front and opened my door for me again. “If this is how polite you are on all your dates, you must get laid all the time.” 

“You know how I do,” Stiles said, making me snort. He wove his fingers through mine, and we walked towards my front door. When we arrived, I nearly tripped and fell, because the last thing I expected to see was Isaac sitting on my doorsteps.

“Jesus fucking christ Lahey, are you kidding me?” Stiles said, grabbing my arm to steady me. “You’re creepy as hell, you know that?” 

Isaac remained expressionless. He stood up and dusted off his khakis. “Really, I’m creepy? You stalked Lydia for years and she didn’t even know your name.” 

“What did you just-” Stiles sputtered. 

“Alright,” I interrupted before they started throwing fisticuffs. “Isaac, what are you doing here?” 

He frowned. “I was waiting for you. I didn’t think you’d bring him back with you.” 

“He is my date, which I told you before, and we had a great time, so I invited him in,” I said in a clipped tone. 

“To get back at me.” I froze. “That’s what you told him in the car, right? Why are you getting back at me? What did I do?” 

I looked down. “Nothing,” I mumbled. “I don’t know.” The silence stretched on. Beside me, Stiles was impatiently tapping his heel. He exhaled loudly. 

“Really?” he said. “You’re both gonna do this now, right before I was supposed to get laid?” 

Stiles was fed up, which became abundantly clear when he cursed our “unnatural capacity to be stubborn little shits.” He grabbed our arms and led us inside. He marched us up my stairs to my bedroom and told us to sit down. He stood in front of us with the authority and sternness of a school vice principal. 

“We are going to resolve this right now,” Stiles stated. 

“Resolve what?” Isaac mumbled. “I didn’t even do anything.” 

I snorted. “Yeah right.” 

Isaac turned to me. “What’s your problem?” he asked. The fact that he had the audacity to ask like he still didn’t know was infuriating. I was over it.

“Your face,” I muttered. I was aware I sounded like a child. I didn’t care. 

“Oh, that’s mature. My face is your problem?”

“Yep.” 

“Well your face sucks too.” 

“That’s not what you said this morning,” I retorted. 

“That’s because you weren’t acting like this this morning.” 

“Well your face was better this morning.”

Isaac looked absolutely vexed. It was almost funny. “What does that even mean?”

“Holy shit,” Stiles said. “She’s mad because you kissed another girl. And many others possibly, but she saw you with someone at school today. That’s why she’s mad.” 

“Stiles, what the fuck?!” I sputtered as he exposed me.

I felt my face get hot. I turned to Isaac, who was looking at me with his mouth parted in surprise and awe. This was so fucking embarrassing. 

“Look,” I said, “you don’t have to explain yourself, okay? We never set any rules for what this was, and I just assumed we wouldn’t be seeing other people. So it’s fine. I’ll get over it.” 

I scooted backwards on my bed until I reached the stack of pillows near the headboard. I locked my arms around my knees and hid my face. In the silence, I heard faint mumblings and harsh whispers. Lifting my head, I watched Stiles and Isaac engaging in an inaudible argument of accusatory finger pointing and other frustrated hand gestures. I ducked my head again. I couldn’t face the mess I’d made. 

The weight on the mattress shifted. I felt a presence to my left. A hand rested gently on my arm. I looked up. It was Isaac, looking at me with a guilty expression on his face. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. I wasn’t messing around with anyone else in the beginning. That started a few weeks ago.”

“If you wanted to mess around with other people, you should’ve just told me. I thought we were close enough that you could tell me anything,” I said, unable to keep the sadness out of my voice. 

“I didn’t want to mess around with other people. I only did it because I started having feelings for you.” 

I froze. “You what?” 

Isaac sighed. “I like you. A lot. I couldn’t tell you because I know you only think of me as your friend. I did try at one point to stop what we were doing, but I wanted you too much. But it was killing me not to tell you, so I got sad, like really sad. I couldn’t tell you I was basically in love with you, and I didn’t want to deal with how depressed it was making me, so I started messing around with other people. I fucked up.”

“You’re in love with me,” I repeated in awe. Of all the things I expected him to say, that information was nowhere on the list. “I can’t believe it.” 

Isaac winced. “Look, you don’t need to address it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or feel obligated to comfort me or anything. I’ll deal with it on my own. I don’t want things to change between us just because of this.” 

"But things have changed,” I said, thinking out loud. “Because I love you too.” 

Isaac blinked. “You do?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I laughed in disbelief. “I think that’s why I was so mad. I didn’t even realize I had feelings for you until today. Stiles figured it out first. Oh shit, Stiles.” 

Stiles raised his hand like a teacher just called on him for attendance. “That’s me,” he said. 

“Oh god, I’m sorry you got caught up in the middle of all this,” I said.

Stiles shrugged. “No worries. Erica said there was a possibility I would get laid, and it was with you, so I was down for whatever. Actually I’m still down if you two are about to fuck.” 

I sputtered. My entire face felt like it was on flames. I laughed nervously. “You’re still down to what?” 

“To fuck.” 

“Fuck who?”

“Fuck you. And Isaac.” 

My eyes darted back and forth between the two boys currently on my bed. What did he just say? “What did you just say?” I squeaked.

Stiles blinked. “What? Haven’t you ever had a threesome before?” 

“Haven’t I-? No, of course not! That’s freaky, even for me.” 

“Really? Oh. I just thought, considering you have a reputation for being kinda promiscuous, no offense.” 

I glared at Stiles. Full offense.

“No seriously, it’s not a bad thing at all. We all have an inner slut and there’s nothing wrong with expressing that. I’ve had lots of threesomes before. I’m sure Isaac has too.” 

I snorted. “No way. Isaac’s too vanilla, right Isaac?” 

I turned to Isaac. He grinned guiltily. “Uh, actually.” 

“See,” Stiles said, smirking.

My jaw dropped open. “How did I not know this about you?” 

Isaac shrugged. “Never really came up. It’s honestly not a big deal.” 

“Wow, I feel like such a prude right now. Who’d you even do it with?” I asked.

“Scott and Derek,” Isaac answered.

My jaw fell open again. “And you, Stiles?” 

“Scott and Erica.” 

“Wow, Scott really takes care of his pack huh?”

Stiles laughed. "He takes his true alpha status to heart. But anyway, you don’t have to do it. I’m just saying, it’s fun, and I personally am horny and down for whatever.” 

“I…” Thinking about being with Stiles and Isaac at the same time made something flutter in my lower stomach. I glanced at Isaac, questioning him silently. He smiled and shrugged casually in an I’m-down-if-you’re-down kind of way. 

I inhaled. 

“Okay. I, yeah. I’m in."

Isaac grinned. “Well this is a surprising turn of events. Just to clarify,” Isaac gestured at the empty space between us, “we’re together right? Now that we’re both in love and all?” 

“That is correct, yes,” I said matter-of-factly. 

Isaac leaned forward and kissed my shoulder. 

Stiles clapped his hands. “Alright, alright, congratulations to the happy couple. Just a reminder: I made this happen. You guys owe me.” 

“Was your 3-way suggestion not your way of collecting?” I asked sarcastically. 

Stiles shrugged. “Only if it goes really well.” 

“Jesus,” I said, rolling my eyes. “So uh, how do we do this?” I wiped my palms on my bed sheet. Starting off sweaty. Less than ideal.

Stiles stood up and walked around my bed towards us. He unbuttoned his flannel with each step and discarded it on the floor. Okay, straight to the point. 

“Don’t be so shy,” said Isaac sarcastically, but watched Stiles with anticipation. 

Stiles grinned before cradling the back of my neck and leaning down to kiss me. “Oh right, acting shy to get girls is more your style,” Stiles replied, with no real malice in his tone. It almost sounded like they were flirting with each other. 

Isaac rolled his eyes. He turned to me, caught me watching him. His expression changed, becoming softer. He leaned forward, his lips gently trailing down my neck. Stiles laid me flat on my bed. They both laid on either side of me. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Isaac asked.

“Yes,” I answered breathlessly. “I want you. Both of you.” 

part 2 is coming.