#makes me think of my abusive ex who would use my body language as a reason to abuse me

[forlornmelody]

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[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 6

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Warnings: Smut and drama, ex-boyfriend breaking restraining order, protective Sy, language.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Part 5

I’m half asleep, half-awake when I feel movement across my chest. I’m still too deep to realize it might be a threat before I feel gentle lips press against my stomach and I groan. My groan brought me closer towards consciousness and I opened my eyes with a start to see Emma’s beautiful blues staring right back at me from my stomach. I relax as I watch her press gentle kisses across my abs as she makes her way lower. Her body is hidden by the sheet but still accentuated her ass up in the air. She reaches for my morning wood and looks at me for permission. I sleepily nod at her and she immediately engulfs my cock into her mouth.

“Fucking shit, sugar.” I rasp, my voice laced with sleep as I wrap my hands in her hair. She creates the perfect pace as she bobs up and down before she gags on my cock. I bite my fist so that I can gather my wits without screaming the place down. With one hand on my shaft, the other around my nuts, she continues working on me and just a few minutes later I’m spurting my seed right down her throat. She swallows greedily and sucks me thoroughly through my release until the oversensitivity has me spasming. She kisses her way back up my body only to lay against me and place a kiss on my lips. 

“Good morning.” She says sweetly.

“It sure as hell is now. You sure know how to wake me up.” 

“I was hungry and needed my breakfast.” She whispers seductively and I flip over on top of her.

“Well, I’m starving so if you don’t mind, I’d like some more of that peach I tried last night.” I say before I make my way down her body and gaze upon her perfect pussy.

“I can’t believe you actually like eating women out.” She whispers.

“Wrong, I love eating YOU out. You are my favorite dessert. Now let me get to it, sugar.” She squeals as I dive right in. I nurse off of her clit and slide two fingers in and in no time at all Emma is moaning and squirming. 

“Fucking hell, Austin. I’m gonna cum!” She shouts as she grinds against my tongue. I hold her hips still as I work her towards her release. She cums exuberantly with a moan and her essence soaks my face with the most sensual taste. We lay back and I pull Emma into my arms. 

“You’re unreal at that. Like you should write a book so that all the men in the world can learn to do that.” She says and I chuckle.

“Why would I give away trade secrets? I had to learn these techniques on my own. That’s like giving away a recipe that’s been in your family for years.”

“But at the expense of women’s pleasure all around the world.” She tries to convince me. 

“You’re one to talk. You’re quite skilled in the oral sex department as well.” I say and she blushes bright red. 

“What time is it anyway?” I ask.

“A little after eight. Got somewhere to be?” I blanche. 

“Seriously? It’s that late? I don’t have anywhere to be but I don’t think I’ve slept past 6:30am since I was in high school. Army kinda breaks that habit but you musta really wore me out.”

 “I’m glad you slept so well. Seemed like you needed it but I couldn’t hold myself back any longer.”

“Mmm. You can always wake me up like that, Sugar. I better get up and take Mills out. I bet he’s gotta whiz like a race horse. ” 

Emma giggles. “I already took him out. I had to pee so I took Aika and Mills out after and then came back to wake you up.”

“You went outside naked?”

“No! I grabbed one of your t-shirts.” She tilted her head in the direction of my dresser.

“Now that’s a sight I’d like to see. C’mon woman, let me make ya some breakfast.” I tell her with a light smack to her ass.

She climbs out of bed and I watch her saunter towards me as I open my underwear drawer and throw on a pair of boxers. She reaches past me, grabs herself a pair of my boxers before throwing on my favorite red DILLIGAF shirt. Those letters have never looked so good as they do now spread across her voluptuous tits. It’s so large on her that it covers her ass and you can’t even tell she has boxer shorts on under it. She runs her fingertips down my pecs and abs while gently scratching before she turns and heads down the stairs. I’m hot on her tail as I quickly lift her up bridal style and set her on the countertop. I start grabbing the ingredients that I’ll need for eggs, bacon, and biscuits. Emma turns around behind her and starts making coffee.

“Your grandma lets you make canned biscuits?” She chuckles and I smirk. 

“She never taught me how to make homemade ones. Plus, that would take way too long. The canned ones are good.” 

“Okay, I’ll agree that the canned ones are yummy but they’ve got nothing on my homemade ones. I doubt you have everything I need, but next time I’ll make some.” 

“Next time, huh? How presumptuous.” I tut.

“Shut up.” She playfully kicks at my butt and I arch my eyebrow at her. Emma works on readying the biscuits for the oven and when the coffee brews, she pours us both a cup. I smile at the domesticity that engulfs us at this moment.

We eat our breakfast in comfortable conversation and I still can’t believe how well I slept. I feel more rested than I have in months.

“What would you be doing if I wasn’t here right now?” Emma brought me from my thoughts.

“Honestly, I’d probably be working out, or I’d be building something on the property. I might be out in the woods with the dogs.” 

“Well, don’t let me stop you.” She replied.

“Trust me Sugar, I don’t have any intentions of letting you out of my sight.” 

“How about you run me back to my place so I can get a change of clothes and then we can take the dogs on a walk?”

“I don’t know that I want to take you back to your place for clothes. I like you just in this.” I reply with a smirk.

“I can’t walk around in just your shirt, mister.” 

“I’d love that, actually.”

“Oh, you’d like other people looking at me practically naked?” I grumble an “over my dead body” before looking back at her.

“Well, let’s go get you some clothes and take these pups on a hike. I wanna take a look at that hot water heater and sink when I get over there though.” She looks at me and arches an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m going to see what needs to be fixed while you get yourself dressed. Pack yourself a little bag and I’ll bring you home Sunday night.” I tell her and she smiles and nods. I suddenly remember I’m supposed to head over for lunch at Nana’s on Sunday. “It may be really weird to ask this or way too soon, but would ya like to come with me to lunch at my grandparent’s house Sunday?” I ask her. 

“Are you sure they wouldn’t mind? I don’t want to intrude on family time.” She replies.

“My nana would be happier than a pig in sunshine, Sugar. She’s been wanting to meet the new vet in town.” I tell her truthfully.

“They won’t think it’s weird that you’re bringing me though? I mean, we’ve technically only had two dates.” Emma admonishes.

“My nana may be a bit nosy, but they respect the fact that I’m grown and am gonna do what I want to. If anything, she’ll likely try and convince me to put a ring on your finger the second she meets you.” I chuckle. “That woman has been asking for me to give her great grandkids since I was 21. I swear at this point she’d be okay with me getting someone pregnant outta wedlock just so she can have some grandbabies. She don’t mean any harm by it though, so don’t worry.”  

“Well, maybe one day she’ll get her wish. For now, I hope she’ll be okay with you introducing me as your friend.” We get dressed, Emma putting on her clothes from last night, and load up in my truck with the dogs in the backseat to head toward her home. When we get there, we get inside and I take a look around. The house is decorated somewhat plainly and mostly white and grey with little hints of teal blue throughout. I spot teal throw pillows on the couch, a blue painting on the wall, blue utensil canister in the kitchen. It’s understated, simple and clean, and like it.

“Point me in the direction of the water heater, Sugar.” She leads me to the laundry room and shows me the water heater.

“I’m going to be in my bedroom changing, if you need me.” 

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Darlin’. I gotta take a look at this water heater.” I smirk and pat her ass as she walks off, the two dogs hot on her trail. Aika is very interested in smelling her new surroundings and Mills just seems happy to be included. I chuckle as I watch him clumsily trail down the hallway, goofy little thing.

The water heater is old, but seems to be in working condition. I turn up the heat dial on the water heater since I think it’s too low to see if that helps her not run out of hot water and make my way to the kitchen sink. She said it was working a little funny so I take a look at it. It doesn’t drain correctly at all and see that she’s bought some drano to try and release whatever’s clogging it. I’d bet my last paycheck that the previous owner poured grease down the sink and that’s the problem. People oughta know better. I can come back with a drain snake but I’ll likely have to replace the pipes underneath to clear out whatever is clogging the p-trap. While I’m looking at the sink, I hear somebody knocking loudly on the door.

“Sy? Can you get that?” I hear Emma ask from what I assume is her bedroom. Hopefully I can see that room before we leave. 

“Sure, darlin’.”

“Emma? Are you in there?” I hear someone yell with another round of knocks as I slowly stand up and make my way to the door. Aika makes her way directly to me on high alert. She seemed to be more alert simply because of the new surroundings, but her demeanor now shows she’s on guard.

I halfway open the door to see a man with brown slicked back hair, and dressed somewhat preppy in a button up and slacks that look a bit too small. I immediately get a douche vibe from this guy who looks at me with a mixture of shock and an air of uppity disdain. 

“Can I help you?” I ask the stranger.

“Oh, I thought this was Emma Miller’s address. I must have been told wrong... but wait, that’s her jeep in the driveway. Who are you?”

“I’m Sy, but I think I should be askin’ who you are.” I arch my eyebrow at him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He mutters under his breath with an eye roll. “Oh, um. I’m Colin. Is Emma here?” My stare hardens. Colin… is this the ex boyfriend? Seriously?

“Sy? I’m ready! Who’s at the door?” I hear Emma come around the corner toward the hallway in her hiking outfit and instinctively close the door a bit more so Colin can’t see her. 

“One moment.” I tell the guy who looks beyond irritated that I’m not the 5’6” blonde he was hoping for.

“Remind me sugar, don’t you have a restraining order on that douche bag ex of yours?” I mutter lowly so he can’t hear.

“…yeah, why?”

“Might wanna call the cops and add stalking to the charges.” I murmur back to her.

“EMMA!” Colin yells and pushes hard against the now cracked door that I have my foot pressed against to stop it from opening. The door barely budges.

Emma steps back with a panicked look. “What the fuck is he doing here? How did he find out where I live?” She whispered, her eyes wide as saucers. 

“Emma, just let me talk to you and then I’ll leave. I just need you to hear me out. Five minutes, I swear.” Colin bellows from the door.

“You need to step back.” I grunt murderously and push the door shut throwing the lock on it. Colin immediately begins yelling Emma’s name and banging on the door.

“The rest of the doors and windows locked?” I ask and she nods. The poor thing looks petrified.

“Want me to get rid of him?” I ask her gruffly.

“I… I can’t even think. Should I call the cops? I don’t want him in my house. I can’t believe he showed up here. I don’t know how he even found me. What if he shows up again and I’m alone?” I hear her ask more to herself than to me. I reach for her shaking hands that she now has framing her face in shock.

“Baby, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You know that, right? Trust me? My cousin is a police officer, I’ll send him a text and have him come out. If you want to listen to him, it seems like now’s a good time while I’m here and Walt on his way. It’ll at least keep him here until the cops show up.” Colin bangs on the door again startling Emma. I look down at my phone and send Walt a text with an SOS and Emma’s address. I wait a moment and Walt responds with an “omw” text. Thank God for Walt. I need to buy him a round next time we go out.

“You don’t have to worry. I can get rid of him and you don’t have to see him or say a word if you want. You are safe, Sugar.” I tell her and kiss her temple. Emma wraps her arms around me and I can hear her heart racing.

“I guess I’ll see what he wants. I wouldn’t put it past him to show back up when you’re not here. Don’t leave me?” She asks nervously. 

“Not a chance, darlin’.” I wait a moment and open the door and Colin steps back as I push my way towards him trying to look over my shoulder at Emma and we walk on the front porch with her angled behind me. 

“Emma, just let me explain myself. Do you mind?” He looks at me and scoffs. “I sure do. Say what you need to say before I kick your sorry ass all the way back to Bama.” He sneers at me before ignoring me and looking at Emma.

“Listen, Scarlett and I are done. We broke up and I realized I was wrong. I want you back, baby.” Emma scoffs.

“Not a chance in hell, Colin. You’ve made your bed and now you can lay in it. Is that all?” I watch Emma out of the corner of my eye as I stand firmly in front of Colin. I cross my arms across my chest and flex my biceps just to make my muscles that much more menacing.

“Don’t do this. I still love you and I know you still love me. Just give me another chance. We can even buy a house and get married like you always wanted.”

“Oh, Colin, how generous of you.” Emma states with pure sarcasm. “Leaving your mistress to finally commit to me after cheating on me repeatedly and without shame for months while I worked tirelessly to repair our relationship. You’re practically prince charming.” She sneers. “You tried to convince me that I was crazy for suspecting something was going on when in reality, I was right. How dare you show up to my new life and think you have any business even being in my presence. You hurt me not just emotionally, but physically. You are pathetic and I regret every moment spent with you. I now know what it feels like to be valued and appreciated, and I never want to see you again. Go home. Go back to Scarlett or whatever other tramp you find and wallow in your unhappiness. Leave me alone.” I feel the pride for Emma radiate from my body. I can tell that she has been bottling this up for who knows how long and I hope she feels relief at finally getting to say her peace.

“I know you’re angry, but you’re talking crazy. I took you on romantic vacations and dates and treated you so well. You can’t tell me you regret all of the good times we had. We’ve known each other our whole lives and I’m not allowed one mistake? Besides, you were working late and never home. You were neglecting me and our relationship. You’re really going to throw away the history that we have for some meathead like this?” Colin says while pointing his thumb at me and I growl deep inside my chest. He can say whatever he wants to me but I will not allow him to say anything else patronizing to her.

Emma stands straighter. “He is more of a man than you’ll ever be. And, just for your information, I’m doing just fine on my own. I don’t need or want you in my life. I’m happier now than I ever have been.”

I see Walter’s truck rounding the corner followed by a squad car with its lights on but no sirens and breathe a sigh of relief. I could easily take this fucker if I needed too, but I’d rather let the law handle it. 

“You called the cops on me again, you stupid bitch?” Colin screams when he sees the lights coming toward him. Emma immediately steps back and I lurch in front of her. I’ve easily got about three inches of height and at least thirty pounds of muscle on this guy, and I almost dare him to throw the first punch. I’d love to smash this fucker to the ground.

My fists are so tight that my knuckles are white as I look him in the eyes and with my Captain’s voice. “Don’t you dare fucking speak to her like that again. You’re the one breaking the law by being here.” I growl and Walt comes flying over to me. The cop he brought with him, Justin, is also someone I’ve known my whole life. Justin immediately grabs Colin and pulls him toward the cop car to question him. I can hear Colin’s whiny voice immediately lying and saying that Emma invited him here to talk and I was interrupting.

“Walt.” I grit through my tense jaw in greeting to my cousin who is looking at Emma and then back at me. Walt responds with a stern nod before looking to Emma.

“I’m Walter Marshall.” He greets Emma and shakes her hand and she introduces herself.

“I’m so sorry you’ve had to come out here.” She apologizes.

“It’s not a problem. Tell me what’s going on?” 

“That’s my ex-boyfriend, Colin Wright. I had to get a restraining order from him in Alabama before I moved out here. He got violent with me several months ago when I changed the locks on my apartment and the police were called. I don’t know how he found me, but he just showed up at my house. I’ve only lived here for about a month and he shouldn’t know where I live. My parents and best friend are the only ones who should have my address. His uncle is an officer in Alabama and got him out of trouble last time.”

“Okay, do you have the restraining order with you? I’d like to look it over but it should still apply. Violating a restraining order is a class A misdemeanor and should be difficult for anyone to get him out of, although it doesn’t constitute much jail time unfortunately.”

Walt follows us inside as Emma retrieves the legal documents to show them to Walter. I’m silently seething as she explains the situation. I relax slightly when I hear Walter tell Justin to read him his rights and book him for violating a protection order. Emma seems so embarrassed even though she has done nothing wrong. I just want to scoop her up and take her back to my house and hold her so that she feels safe again.

“Alright, we’ve arrested him but now that he has your address, I suggest you get some security at your house. An alarm system, video doorbell camera and a few surveillance cameras around the property would be a good idea to keep you from being surprised in the future. If he ever shows back up, call the police. I’ll give you my personal cell phone number as well since you’re Sy’s girl.” Walter tells her.

“Thank you so much, Walter. I’m sorry we had to meet like this but it was nice to meet you.” 

“You too. Sy, you good?” Walter asks.

“Yeah, man. Thanks for running out here before I smacked the guy. Appreciate it.” I tell him as we shake hands and Walter heads back to his truck. As soon as he leaves, Emma stands up and I can see her arms shaking.

“Sugar, you okay?”

“I just… I’m just so frustrated. How did this happen again? This was supposed to be a new start without him around. I don’t know how he found me and I just want to feel safe again. I’m so tired of this shit tainting everywhere I go. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before the town starts gossiping about the new vet’s man trouble.”

I gently place my hands on her shoulders to stop her pacing and pull her towards me. I hold her in my arms tightly and as soon as I do she breaks down. I hold her and rub along her back as the sobs slow down.

“Darlin’ you need to not think about any of that. Who gives a shit what other people think? You’ve done nothing wrong and you’re just trying to live your life. You are safe here, and I’ll do my damnest to show you that. Now, you want to go to my house or you still feel like going on a hike?” I ask and she whispers, “nature might help me calm down” into my neck. “Alright, how about after our hike we go and get you some security stuff for the house. I can install it tonight and we can order some dinner here. That sound okay?” She just nods and I give her a gentle kiss. We load up the dogs in my truck and I take her to one of my favorite trails to walk Aika. It’s not very well known and about half way through there is a stream that runs through it which is a perfect rest spot. I notice Emma seems lost in her thoughts and I just keep quiet. I know she needs time to process everything and I want to be a quiet presence to help her but not overwhelm her. We’d barely spoken by the time we got to the stream and I’m starting to really wonder what’s going on in her mind. I let the dog’s romp around in the shallow water as I point to a large rock to rest on. Emma sits beside me and I wrap my arms around her.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I ask.

“Oh gosh, just trying to process what just happened. I’m sorry I’m so complicated. You were probably just looking for something easy and fun and I’m just a mess with a ton of baggage.” She places her head in her hands and chuckles without humor.

“Sugar, I got more baggage than you could imagine. You’re not complicated, you’re just human with human problems. If I was looking for something easy, I would’ve fucked and ducked, but I’m not interested in that. I’ve had my share of one-night stands but you…darlin’ you are different in the best way.” 

Part 7

Taglist: @shellyshellshell @henryownsme @caramariehurst @beck07990 @mollymal@kingliam2019@syversonswife@identity2212@starfirewildheart@hannah9921@wa-ni@kneelforloki@cutedoxie@enchantedbytomandhenry @foxyjwls007@geralts-yenn@courtlynwriter @corrie1013 @squeezyvalkyrie@summersong69 @livisss @mayloma

[kamiversee]

it’s interested how intimate sakuna is w reader. he kissed her palm, caresses her face, constant eye contact, angles her head to keep eye contact and even refused to let her avoid eye contact, this could be a parallel to choso since he also loves her eyes and constantly studied reader, sakuna also brought her to his room after it was cleaned when he could’ve just left her in the spare room, & calls her nicknames like sweetheart which could be a symbol of how him and gojo are somehow connected. his body language overall is very sweet and he’s observant of her WHICH UMMM HELLO?? for an average hookup this is a LIL TEWWW INTIMATE & he studies and reads her behavior which again why would you do that for a hookup 🧍🏽‍♀️

“Sukuna felt like he'd accomplished what he wanted to and once he was done, you felt the bed move as he got out of it.”

“it wasn't necessary, he thought to himself. He already got what he needed.”

ERMM WHAT DID HE NEED & WHAT WAS HE ACCOMPLISHING??

“It was dangerous for him to grow so addicted to such a thing but, did he care? “

WHY WOULD IT BE DANGEROUS FOR HIM TO GROW ADDICTED TO HER???

it was also strange how choso’s bed room door was wide open when reader was gonna come over ? it was said it was obvious no one had used it in years and there was even dust on the bedside table YET when she came over it was wide open??

while i do think sakuna has a role in everything im still confused on how deep he truly is, he took mental note of reader getting paid which maybe originally reader wasn’t supposed to get paid at all??

THIS IS A STRETCH BUT ITS WORTH A TRYYYY why was his phone discarded near her on the bed before they had sex? WHO THE EFF LEAVES THEIR PHONE ON THE BED DURING ACTIVITIES LIKE THAT NEAR THE PERSON ??

erm idk my head is gonna EXPLODE

-🤴🏽

I wrote him so intimate with her on purpose. LEMME YAP RQ;

For one, yes it is to show that he and Choso do share similarities despite them not being on good terms with one another. And secondly, I’m waiting for someone to somehow guess why he was so gentle with her and it’s taking EVERYTHING in me not to spoil it😭

Anywho, Sukuna is known for a few things as of now; fighting, crime, parties, & being somewhat of a manwhore (seeing as it’s said he usually fucks & leaves). But for the reader, it’s different. Why? Is it because of the list? Or… is there some other reason?

What makes the reader so special? Just to tease yall with something to think about, take note of how, as far as we know, Sukuna doesn’t really receive much affection from women. His mother and his last known ex were abusive so, imagine the contrast he must be experiencing with the reader 🌚

OKAY IVE SAID TOO MUCH SVEIHWOAUAI

Wait one more thing, you asked why it would be dangerous for him to grow addicted & to answer that… Well, use the info I just gave about him not really having the best experience with women ><

ALR IMA STOP BEFORE I SPOIL SHIT FRFR

[dari-ede]

In the Middle of the Night: Chapter 26

Chapter 26: "You Don't Mean to Hurt Me"

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

MASTERLIST

AN: And it’s back! Thank you everyone for your patience. It’s been quite the 2 months. Hopefully, I’ll be able to come back to a regular weekly, or at least Bi-weekly, posting. Happy reading! 🥰

Summary: As Bangtan prepares for a new chapter in their lives, they head to their private property in the forest for a songwriting workshop. As a songwriter and producer they have worked with for years, I’m asked to tag along. I was ready for the heavy workload and small amount of sleep during the workshop week. However, I wasn’t ready for the storm that came that changed my friendship with Namjoon forever.

Pairing: Idol!RM/Namjoon x OFC

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut

Rating: M (mention of sexual assault, explicit language, sexual scenes in prior chapters)

Status: COMPLETE

Warnings/spoilers: Hurt, Miscommunication

**********

Warning/Spoiler: All flashback; It's a loooooong one. 

April 2017, Anaheim, Ca

The guys were in town temporarily and would be leaving in a few days. There was a short window we were able to meet to just hang out. Tomorrow we would be at the recording studio together and then they would be flying off to who knows where.

I had driven to their hotel with my ex in the passenger seat. I honestly didn’t know why I invited him to go with me. Maybe I thought it would make him less pouty about me hanging out with guy friends. He had an issue with every friend I had that was of the opposite sex. And when I told him I would be hanging out with seven guys, he was a whining nightmare. I felt obligated to invite him.

Out of all my bad boyfriends, he was the worst. At the time, I didn’t think our relationship was unhealthy. We weren’t as extreme as my parents were, so in my eyes, we were stable. We didn’t throw heavy or dangerous items at each other. That was a plus.

The entire drive to the hotel had been quite unbearable. The argument just kept escalating. By the time we arrived at the parking lot, he was at the peak of yelling.

“If you don’t want to be here—you don’t have to,” I said to him, putting my car in park.

“So, you’re gonna hang out the entire night with a bunch of guys without your boyfriend there? That’s disrespectful,” he said loudly as I got out of my car.

“They’re just my friends,” I said back for maybe the tenth time.

“It looks like you’re their call girl,” he said loudly as he made his way toward me.

I knew other people were in the parking lot with us, but I didn’t dare look up. It wasn't our first argument in public; I was certain we had their full attention. I didn’t want to see the looks, so I kept my eyes away and did my best to keep my voice down.

“Fuck off,” I muttered to him.

He got to me and grabbed my arm, pulling me tightly towards him.

This physical maneuver was pretty common that my body reacted automatically. I pushed him off with vigor. “If you’re gonna be acting like an ass, then it’s best you don’t go.”

“This is gonna come out on the tabloids—you meeting them in their room. You’re gonna look like a whore to those—”

He used a term that ignited something in me. Angered me and made me see red. It changed everything. Up until that point, I had brushed off my ex’s verbal, emotional, and physical abuse. I didn’t see it as abuse back then because I always physically pushed him back—I, too, used words to call him names. Everything about his behavior had been excusable back then, but not the term he used. The term made me see him for what he really was: a racist, homophobic piece of shit.

I had never felt angrier at another person than at that moment. I couldn’t understand how I was ever with a guy that was like this—someone who would say such a vile thing.

“What’s wrong with you?! Why would you say that? They’re seven of the kindest people. They would never allow something like that to come out. Unlike you, they’re real fucking men. So go fuck off. We’re done. Find your way back home.”

I turned to leave as he said some obnoxious thing behind me, but I didn’t listen. He wasn’t worth it. Plus, I didn’t want to show up at the guys’ room upset.

From the corner of my eye, I could tell the people on the other side of the parking lot were making their way toward us. I didn’t want to get involved with other people, so I dodged away and left in the opposite direction. I would take the long way up to the hotel.

I sent a message to Hoseok letting him know I was on my way up. After getting into the hotel, I made sure to go into one of the restrooms and calmed myself down. Minutes later, I got to their floor and was met with a group of their team that welcomed me and guided me to Hoseok’s room.

Stepping inside, I was welcomed by sweet smiles. Most of the guys were there.

Hugging all of them, we settled into the room and hung out.

Even though I was friendly with them, I was most close with Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and Suga. Jin, Jungkook, and RM were still quiet around me. Hoseok had invited me, convinced it was only a matter of time before I fully blended with the other guys.

So, there we were, all of us minus Namjoon, having drinks. Jin was talking a little more, which I appreciated. He was making jokes and keeping things light.

Jimin and he were bickering for a moment, which made me laugh.

Jin stared at me. “What?” I asked, curious about the look.

Jin smiled. “You’re like Hobi.”

Jimin nodded, agreeing. “I’ve said the same thing. There’s a reason they hit it off when we met.”

“They both laugh with their entire body; they're loud and push you when they laugh,” Suga added. “Hobi makes a lot of sound effects and Maya hums a lot.”

Taehyung nodded. “It’s almost like they were separated at birth.”

"Also, both are scary when they get angry," Jimin said with a teasing laugh.

Hoseok and I exchanged a look. We had discussed this with ourselves in the past. From the start of our friendship, we saw a lot of similarities in our personalities. I told him he must have been Latino in another life because his energy was starkly different than most Koreans I had met and aligned more with my culture.

“Maya and I were already having deep conversations within the first week of knowing each other,” Hoseok said. “We were even crying to each other.”

I nodded, remembering. “I think we were comparing the struggle of being an artist.”

Hobi agreed. “I was having trouble being far away from family and you were having trouble with a former boyfriend. I think you were missing him.”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t because I missed him. We were fighting. He was trying to make me feel guilty for always being on the road.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Hoseok said, his face falling a little. “Well, it’s a good thing he’s gone.”

I nodded. “I know how to pick them.” I grabbed the beer the guys had handed to me and took a sip, remembering the fight I had earlier with my now-ex.

“How are things with your current boyfriend?” asked Jimin carefully. “We thought he was coming with you.”

Looking around the room and seeing they all had their eyes on me felt a bit embarrassing. I would have felt comfortable talking more openly if only Hoseok, Jimin, Suga, and Taehyung were present. I didn’t want to lay all my baggage out in the open for Jin and Jungkook to see.

I took another sip of my beer, deciding to just give a little bit of truth. “We had a big fight in the parking lot. Decided to end things with him.”

They immediately began to voice their sympathies and give me comforting words.

“What was the argument about?” Taehyung asked as he soothed my arm.

At that moment, I heard the door open. I turned towards it and found RM walking in. The guys told me upon arriving that RM was taking a call from his girlfriend, which was why he had been missing since I had arrived.

RM caught my eye and gave me a greeting.

The dimples he displayed made butterflies suddenly appear in my stomach. Since meeting him, I had a small crush on the guy, but it always seemed to come in waves. The fact that he had a girlfriend made it easy to ignore whatever attraction I had for him.

“You don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable doing so,” Suga immediately commented, sending Tae a glance. The look contained a lot of words.

Taehyung pulled back a little, giving a small pout.

My heart tugged at seeing the scolding. Taehyung was only being considerate. I didn’t want to talk about the fight—feeling embarrassed and angry for what my ex had said, but I also didn’t want Taehyung to think he had done anything wrong. I wanted to let Suga know I was perfectly fine with being asked the question.

“It’s fine that he asked,” I told Suga. I turned to Taehyung, gaining the courage to suppress my uncomfortableness. “The fight was similar to many we’ve had. He thinks I’m unfaithful, believes I care too much about my career and hates that I have too many guy friends. He didn’t like me coming over. Thinks guys and girls can’t be friends.”

“Yes they can,” Jungkook said out of nowhere. He hadn’t spoken much the entire night.

Seven pairs of eyes turned to him.

With a full look of valor, Jungkook confidently said, “I think of you as my friend. What does he know about male and female friendships?”

“Thank you, Jungkookie,” I said with a smile.

The guys wore proud grins on their faces as they looked at their youngest member. He was growing up quite rapidly. The timid boy they all had come to raise was developing into a young man with full confidence.

While the guys felt pride for their maknae, I felt gratitude for what he said.

I looked around and noticed Jin’s eyes fall on me at the same time. He gave me a small smile, almost as if he was silently agreeing with Jungkook’s words. Like he, too, saw in me a friend.

A warmth spread through my chest at the feeling that the two of them saw me just as the other guys did: a friend.

I turned to Namjoon, who also wore a small smile.

But before I could decipher his look, Hoseok’s voice pulled me away.

“Mai-Mai, we have a confession to make to you.” Hoseok held my eyes, his face fully serious. It was almost scary to see him without his signature smile. “We saw you in the parking lot.”

I frowned, not understanding.

“We were there for your argument. We saw your ex grab you,” he said sadly.

Now, I understood. A feeling of embarrassment came over, realizing it had been them who had been there to witness it all. I had cussed and yelled—I had not been well-behaved. And I don’t know why, but in their eyes, I never wanted them to see the worst in me. And that moment in the parking lot was not my finest moment.

“We went over as soon as he grabbed you,” Jungkook said, a scowl on his face. “But you left before we could get to you.”

“We know the nasty words he said to you. And you don’t deserve that,” Jimin said, a similar look of anger on his face.

“Namjoonie made sure security escorted him out,” Suga said, assuredly. “We had some of our team stay behind to ensure he didn’t come back. Security of the hotel has been informed about him.”

I looked around, reading all of their faces as they gave me comforting words. The look of concern on all of their faces told me that they didn’t think I had misbehaved. They looked over my moments of anger and seemed to focus on my ex’s behavior toward me.

I was grateful they were concerned about me and even more that they were looking after me. I thanked them.

“Namjoonie told us what he said about us,” Jin said, his eyes right on me. “We want to thank you for being a good friend and standing up for us.”

A blush swept over my cheeks.

“We’re glad to call you our friend,” Teahyung said proudly.

My eyes went around the room again, seeing how they were all looking at me so kindly. They all gave small nods, agreeing with Taehyung’s words. The last one my eyes fell on was RM. He was the one I still wasn’t sure of in our friendship.

He gave me a half smile. “Thank you.”

I gave a slight nod, feeling uncomfortable. It was odd that I was being thanked for being a decent human being. Why were they making me feel as if I had done something so courageous?

“How are you feeling?” Jimin asked, worriedly.

I thought for a moment, not knowing how to answer. How was I feeling? I had never thought of that. My initial reaction was to say “angry”. But the anger faded after spending time with the guys. Seeing looks full of concern staring back at me, I wondered if there was something to be concerned about.

“You just broke up with your ex, it’s normal for you not to have processed everything yet. It’s ok,” Suga said calmly. “The sadness and loss and confusion will come when it comes.”

Suga and I had had plenty of deep conversations in the last year. He knew me almost as well as Hoseok did.

But now that he said it, I was now starting to feel those exact emotions: sadness, loss, and confusion. The fight replayed back in my mind and a concern popped into my head as I did this. “I don’t know why I keep choosing these assholes. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

We were all quiet for a long moment.

“What would he say to you?” Hobi asked as Jimin came over to hand me a tissue.

It was then I noticed I had been crying. I apologized as I took the tissue and thanked Jimin.

I felt slight embarrassment in the state I was in. But knowing I was in the comfort of a group of friends, I felt ok in sharing. “Stupid shit like I don’t know how to prioritize a relationship. I make him feel like a second choice. My clothing is too revealing—men are going to take advantage of me. I’ll get groped and it’ll be my fault.” I shook my head in disgust. “I would tell him to fuck off, but yet I still went back like an idiot.”

“You deserve someone who is going to always respect you,” Jin said. “Disagreements happen but respect should always be there.”

Jimin nodded. “If he’s not kind to you, then what’s the point in being with him? You should be with someone who is going to treat you right.”

Wiping away my tears, I kept my eyes down, still feeling shame.

“There, no need to cry over some loser,” Suga encouraged.

“Aw, if she wants to cry, let her cry,” RM said immediately.

“Yeah. What’s wrong with crying?” Jin challenged.

My heart warmed at the two of them defending me, even though Suga only meant well with his words.

“That’s not what I meant. I just mean she should save her tears for someone who's worth it. That piece of shit doesn’t deserve anything from her,” Suga said defensively.

“That doesn’t change how she feels about him. He might be an asshole, but that doesn’t take away the fact that she cared for him,” RM argued back.

Soon, the three of them were starting a nonsense argument as Jimin tried to interfere and calm all of them down. Hobi tried to crack a few jokes to diffuse the situation, but Taehyung and Jungkook sat closer to me and offered me some of the fried chicken that had now turned cold, They watched the entertainment with Cheshire smiles.

“It gets pretty juicy sometimes. Let’s hope Jimini and Hobi-hyung are unsuccessful,” Jungkook said as he took a bite of his chicken and giggled.

“Be sure to take cover if Yoongi-hyung gets ahold of a shoe, though,” Taehyung muttered.

I was about to ask for clarification on this, but all of a sudden Jimin’s voice pulled my attention back to the argument.

“Hyung, put that down!”

Suga had taken hold of a pillow and Jimin had his arms extended out, creating a small shield in front of a massive RM.

The look on RM and Suga’s faces was stern, but it was hard to take them seriously as the two evil maknaes next to me giggled like children. Jimin also looked like a tiny character; did he think he could protect RM? He was so tiny. Jin was currently sitting down and also enjoying the show with a wide smile. This was how I knew there was nothing to be too concerned about. Surely if things got too out of control, Jin would step in….. Right?

The argument didn’t escalate too much. Suga did end up throwing the pillow at RM, but less than a few minutes later things calmed down. From the look of things, this happened every now and then as they all continued as if nothing happened. Occasionally, Jimin and Jungkook would replay bits and pieces of RM and Suga's argument, finding it comical.

We all went back to discussing other things. As I continued to hang out with all of them throughout the night, it was like I went through a Grinch moment on Christmas day. I felt my heart grow three sizes that night. I don’t know why it felt this good to know I was great friends with all these individuals. What was it about these seven men that could make anyone think they could conquer the world?

*******

Even though I only got a few hours of sleep that night, I still felt energized the next day. There was a song I was working on with the rap line. There was a time crunch, so we only had a day in the studio. Whatever didn't get done today, we would have to do electronically—something my brother Seb and I both disliked doing. We liked working with an artist physically in a room together. Doing things through email and phone calls muddied up the work.

We had a lot of ground to cover. When the guys arrived at my brother's studio, they went directly to work. Even though the guys were a bit worn out, they still gave it their all as they recorded. They were used to the workload.

Thankfully, everything went smoothly and we got done everything we set out to do. This was mostly because we had worked together before and knew how to speed up the process without risking the quality of work.

After Suga and Hoseok were satisfied with their parts, they left for some rest. My brother also stepped away for an important call. He announced he would be back in an hour or two. RM, however, wanted to stay longer to go over the record a little more. I stayed behind to assist.

RM was a perfectionist, so I knew it would be a few hours before he was satisfied. I decided to order us pizza. However, it was another half hour after the pizza arrived that RM was finally satisfied with the day’s work.

As RM took a few slices and served the both of us, I went into my brother’s mini-fridge and pulled out a couple of beers. RM and I had a similar way of working: we didn’t drink while we recorded, only until after.

It was the first time we hung out alone. Usually, someone else was always in the room. Now considering him a friend, I didn’t feel discomfort. I started asking personal questions that I hadn’t before. The topic of old relationships came up and it led me to ask what caused his last breakup. I knew he was head over heels for his current girlfriend, but I was curious about his past rather than his present.

“We broke up because it felt like she disrespected me,” he said finally after I had pushed a little. He originally didn’t want to talk about it, but somehow I convinced him to talk about it. “She had too many guy friends that were too physical with her.”

I couldn’t help but feel similarities to the argument my ex and I had last night. While I didn’t want anything to do with my asshole ex, I certainly wanted to get a different viewpoint on girl and guy friendships. Maybe RM could give me a glimpse into my ex’s thought process. Maybe there was a different perspective I was missing. I mean, if two of them seemed to have a problem with me having a lot of guy friends, maybe there was an angle I wasn’t considering?

“So you broke up because of the guy friends she had?” I asked, curiously.

“It’s not that she had guy friends—it was how close she was with them. And how many of them she had. There’s just a way you behave with guys and another that you behave with a boyfriend. It shouldn’t be physical—that gets reserved for boyfriends.”

“Physical—how?”

“Hugging and touching too much.”

I thought about how my relationship with Hobi and Jimin. We goofed off a bit. They had tickled me a few times. I didn’t see the big deal.

“And also the type of things that are talked about. There are topics reserved for only significant others. Things you can discuss with friends of the same sex, but not the opposite sex.”

“Like what?”

He hesitated. “Personal stuff.”

“Like?” I pressed.

He was getting shy, avoiding eye contact. A slight blush came across his cheeks. “Just personal stuff.”

Sex. Koreans and their shyness on the topic, especially when talking to the opposite sex, let me know he was referring to this.

As I considered his perspective, I still didn’t feel swayed from my opinion on female and male friendships. I didn’t see why and how that would affect a romantic relationship.

“I don't think I could be with someone who wanted me to stop being friends with Hoseok and Jimin. To not have Hoseok, who is the epitome of happiness and positivity, or Jimin who is incredibly kind… just seems wrong. I probably wouldn't want to be in a relationship where the guy doesn’t want me to be friends with other guys. Sounds kind of like it’s insecurity.”

Namjoon was quiet for a moment, deep in thought and considering his next words. “I don't think it's about insecurity. It's about respect.”

This somewhat annoyed me because it was a similar word my ex had used: ‘disrespectful’. “You think having a close relationship with the opposite sex is disrespectful?”

RM’s face was serious as he looked right at me, not breaking eye contact. “When there is a significant other involved, yes.”

A sudden urge to challenge him came over, especially after some of the guys had validated me last night about the topic. “But you and I are friends. Do you side with my ex when he said we shouldn’t be friends?”

RM shook his head in a dismissive manner. “That's different. We're work friends. You’re helping me out with something work-related. There’s nothing personal happening between us. Different rules.”

His words sank at a rapid pace.

Work friends. Not friends, but work friends. Someone you only spoke about certain topics with. Nothing personal. 

A feeling of nausea took over.

Work friends? Is that how he saw me? Someone to only hang out with during work hours? Only if he was getting paid to do so?

How could he think of me this way? We had known each other for years. I had been present for group trips, dinners, music video shoots, and recordings. I had been present during dress rehearsals and mic checks. Been to many live shows. I had seen some of RM’s lows: recording him had brought him to near exhaustion once and I had been present when a doctor was called. I made sure not to leave his side until the color came back to his face. We shared many stories while drinking a beer. I was his go-to person when he had English grammar questions. And just last night, we had an entire night full of laughter—I had shared thoughts and emotions because I thought we were friends.

And then it hit me. All of those shared moments had been alongside the rest of the guys. The group trips were always done with all members. The dinners and hangouts were always with the other guys present. And it was always Hoseok, Jimin, or Taehyung who would invite me to their shows and music video shoots. I never really hung out with RM, even more notably now that he had a girlfriend. Last night, it had only been Jin and Jungkook who verbally confirmed our friendship. RM had never agreed with the rest of the guys that he was friends with me.

Even after showing my tears and hurt last night, there was still a barrier between RM and me.

But, if I took a step back, I couldn't blame him. He had always created a line between us. I just had never seen it. I was a fool to think differently. A feeling of embarrassment took over. And hurt.

“Hey, you guys get done?” came a voice from the door as it swung open.

It was Sebastian, my brother. He was back.

I couldn’t be here. It was far too awkward. Not to mention I was feeling my heart rate accelerate.

“I gotta go,” I said suddenly, searching for my keys. There was pressure in my chest. I could feel my breathing change.

I cursed at myself silently as I spun around franticly. Where the hell were my keys?

“Mayita.” My brother’s voice pulled me.

Turning around, I saw him holding my keys, a look full of concern across his face. “Qué pasó?” He took a step close to me, blocking me from RM. He was trying to spare my embarrassment. He knew I felt self-conscious about my episodes, he was trying to ensure RM didn’t see me like this.

I shook my head, not being able to speak.

“Ve. Está bien,” he encouraged as he handed me my keys.

“Maya, what’s wrong?” RM asked. He took a few steps closer.

Hurrying out of the room, I heard my brother ask RM what had happened.

As I drove out of the property, I felt a stream of tears start coming down. My chest felt like it was being squeezed.

I felt like such an idiot. How could I have ever been so stupid to not see RM didn’t want to be friends? Just because he was nice and friendly did not mean that he wanted to be friends.

******

After an hour of driving around and crying, my negative thoughts began to go out of control. I began to doubt my friendship with the other guys. Were they also just being friendly with me and nice, like RM? Was it only Hoseok and Jimin who I had a genuine friendship with?

I felt the need to know the truth. There was no way Hoseok would ever be honest with me. He was much too kind for that. There was only one person who would be completely honest if I asked him to be.

Using some sunglasses, I made my way to the guys’ hotel. I had sent a message to the person I needed to see so the staff had been informed about my visit.

“What is it?” Suga asked as soon as he opened his door.

He looked concerned as soon as I took off my sunglasses. I must have looked like shit.

He stepped back, inviting me in.

“I'm sorry,” I said immediately. “I just...I need a direct answer and I know you’re the one who would be most honest with me.”

Suga looked a little uncomfortable. Maybe it was because he was only in his boxers.

“Hold on.” He reached over to a bathrobe and put it on. Poor guy, I hadn’t given him ample time for him to get ready.

Once again, I felt like an idiot. Of course, he would feel uncomfortable with me here. He probably saw me the same way RM did. We were work friends. Work friends didn’t visit each other in their personal bedrooms for non-work-related reasons.

“Are we friends?” I blurted out, not able to keep it in.

He looked even more confused. “What?”

“Would you consider us friends?” I asked a little more clearly this time.

“Yes. Of course.”

It seemed like I wasn’t being clear, so I became more specific. “I'm not talking about work friends or associates, but friends-friends. Someone you feel comfortable having deep conversations with? To share secrets with? Trust important information with?”

He couldn’t look more lost. “Yes. You are a friend of mine. Maiwa, what’s wrong?”

And then the tears just streamed down.

Suga reached over and gave me a one-arm hug. He held me for a good while. Once I had settled down, he asked again, “What’s wrong?”

I took a breath. “I was talking to RM and I found out the friendship I thought we had really only existed in my head. And if I was wrong about my friendship with him, maybe I’m wrong about my friendship with the rest of you guys.”

He pulled back a bit to look me in the eye. “Why would you say such a thing? Namjoonie values your friendship.”

I shook her head. “He sees us as associates. ‘Work friends’ were his exact words. Had I known he didn't see me as a friend, I would have waited until he was out of the room to talk so openly with you guys.”

Yoongi seemed to consider my words before he spoke again. “What you said last night was important. We're all grateful you trust us enough to share that with us. I'm sure he didn't mean what he said.”

“RM is one of the best communicators I know. He dissects everything he says. He’s careful and articulate. I’m more than sure he meant what he said. Especially when I’m the one who referred to the two of us being friends and he was quick to correct me. He said we were different from friends. We were work friends.”

Suga stayed quiet for a long while. Surely, he was going over what might have occurred in his head, questioning if I was overreacting.

It felt like another punch in the gut. A level of anger began to build toward RM. His words were making me doubt Suga. I had never thought negatively about any of the guys but now I was overanalyzing everything. Allowing self-pity to win over.

“You know Hobi once called us business partners? Not friends, but business partners,” he said carefully.

This was shocking to me. It didn't seem right. Hoseok would never say this about Suga or any of the other guys. He loved his six members more than brothers.

Suga seemed to have read my mind. “He did...but he wasn’t serious. It took a moment to figure out he was only messing around, but I remember that horrible feeling that someone I cared for, thought of me as something so insignificant. To me, the six guys are an eternal family. My brothers for life. So, hearing those words, it cut something deep.” He looked sad at the memory. “Thankfully, it was a misunderstanding. Hopefully, for your circumstance, it was as well.”

New, warm tears began to stream down. “I don’t think so, Suga. I’ve been thinking about it. RM and I never hung out. Not by ourselves, that is. And whenever we talk, he doesn’t really ask personal questions. I ask him about his family and girlfriend and past, but he’s never shown interest in me. I don’t think that’s how friends are.”

Suga was quiet again. “Namjoonie is someone who holds up many walls. It takes a good deal to bring them down. I’ll be honest, there are moments when he doesn’t let us in. He carries a lot on his shoulders. Sometimes Jin can get through to him, but when he shuts down, there’s no way of getting him to open up. He has to be the one who’s ready to do so. A lot is going on lately. I’m not trying to make excuses for him, but I’m sure he’s stressed and not thinking clearly.

“I know his heart. He’s an incredible person and someone who would never want to hurt someone. I’m sure if he sees he’s upset you, he’ll do everything in his power to set things right.”

I didn’t say anything. A part of me believed Suga, but a bigger part was buried deep in the pain and I couldn’t see straight. I was stuck in a negative headspace.

We didn’t speak much for the remainder of the night. Suga kept his arm around me for a while longer.

This moment I was having with Suda reminded me of last year when we were recording a song for their current album. I was asked to help assist with a solo song for him. While writing for the track, the two of us went the entire night drinking and comparing childhood stories. We found we shared a complicated relationship with music. We were both born to be musicians but there came a point in our lives where we resented it for different reasons. His thoughts about it were similar to mine and together, we created a song that held a special place in my heart. It was a song that after the recording was done, I only listened to once due to the power it had over me. It was one of the few songs I had taken part in writing but couldn’t listen to.

As I sat next to Suga, I began to feel sleepy. When he noticed this, he offered me his bed. I insisted on using the couch in his room, knowing I couldn’t drive at this stage but not wanting to inconvenience my friend either. He had none of it. He placed the covers around me and took the couch for himself.

My doubts about the rest of the guys seeing me as their friend began to float away.

******

-NAMJOON-

The next day was full of activity. The schedule for the guys was set from the start of the day and would carry on until the night. The next day, they were set to leave LA for their next destination.

Having the responsibility of ensuring everyone was awake today, Namjoon woke early the next morning. He knew his hyungs were more than likely awake, so he went directly to the three youngest rooms first. After ensuring they woke up, Namjoon then made his way to Hobi and Jin’s rooms; not surprisingly, the two of them were easier to stir awake. Finally, he headed to Yoongi’s room. Namjoon was certain he was awake, but he’d rather play it safe and check.

Just as Namjoon got to Yoongi’s room, he saw his hyung’s door open. And out came a curly-haired brunette.

Namjoon stopped in his tracks. It had been a while since Yoongi had brought a girl to a hotel room, but he had never done so while they were overseas. What chick had he hooked up with last night? He didn’t know any Americans. And judging from this girl’s backside and figure, she was not Korean, so it couldn’t be one of their staff.

“Thanks again, Yoongi,” said the girl as Yoongi stepped up to the doorway to see her off.

He gave her a small smile and a half hug.

It took Namjoon a moment, but he finally recognized the voice. “Maya?”

Maya turned; her almond-shaped eyes wide. Did she look…scared?

Namjoon remembered how she had left so abruptly from the studio yesterday. Sebastian had asked him what had happened, but he genuinely didn’t know. One moment they were having a conversation and the next Maya was gone. He had noticed the change in her breathing right as Sebastian tried blocking him from looking at her. Namjoon asked Sebastian what had been wrong with Maya, but Sebastian simply said that she got sick every once in a while but didn’t give specifics. It worried Namjoon. He had even sent Maya a couple of messages, wishing she felt better.

But Namjoon figured she had gone home to rest. Why was she here? Had she spent the night with Yoongi? Was there more going on between them that he hadn’t noticed?

“What are you doing here?” Namjoon asked her bluntly, stepping forward.

Maya took several steps away from him. Some tears began to make their way down her eyes. “I gotta go.” She gave Yoongi a quick look and walked away in a hurry.

As she left, Namjoon could hear her take deep breaths, just as she had last night.

He wanted to go after her to see if she was ok, but something made his feet stay where they were. “Why was she crying?” Namjoon asked.

“How about you tell me?” Yoongi asked, a lethal note detected in his tone.

Namjoon frowned, not understanding. “Did I do something wrong?”

“I would say so. What the hell were you on yesterday?” he asked, the lethal note sounding deadlier.

“Excuse me?” Namjoon’s patience began to wear thin. His defenses started to come up.

He and Yoongi got into intense arguments, sometimes it seemed out of nowhere. Since meeting each other, Namjoon and Yoongi’s relationship had been intense. It mostly stemmed from their competitiveness and different personalities. Yoongi tended to be stubborn and blunt while Namjoon was more docile and subtle. Their opposite traits tended to create the most intense fights.

Namjoon did his best to avoid arguing as much as he could, but the guy always knew what buttons to press. Just like he was now.

“What did you tell Maiwi last night?” Yoongi demanded.

Namjoon was quick to notice the nickname. Hobi and Jimin usually called her 'Mai-Mai', but Yoongi had created a nickname for Maya that was fully Korean. That could only mean one thing, right?

“Are you guys together?” Namjoon asked, shocked.

Yoongi looked completely unimpressed. “You know, for a genius, you really are daft sometimes. Nothing’s going on between me and Maya. She’s a friend. And she only sees a friend in me as well. Wish she could say the same thing about how she sees you, though.”

Namjoon’s confusion only deepened. “What?”

“Did you seriously tell her that you guys were work friends?”

Namjoon thought for a moment. “Yeah.”

“Aishhhh,” Yoongi hissed out as he shook his head disappointedly.

“What?”

“You hurt her feelings, Namjoon,” Yoongi emphasized.

Namjoon was taken about by these words. He didn’t know how to react. But he continued to listen to Yoongi as he spoke.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but last night was the first time Maya has ever opened up about how toxic her relationships are. Hobi even pointed out that even with him, Maya is pretty quiet about her relationships. He’s noticed markings on her arms in the past, but she’s always dismissed the bruises. I’ve seen a couple of bruises on her as well, but never asked her about it, fearing what her answer would be. And last night she confirmed our suspicions.

“She opened up to us because she thought she was talking to friends. She felt safe bringing down those walls. And then you go and tell her she’s not a friend? What the fuck do you think that did to her?” Yoongi demanded.

The realization of his mistake made Namjoon want to start digging a hole for himself to live inside. “Shit,” he let out. He replayed the entire conversation from last night in his head. What the hell had possessed him to say such a thing?

So much was going on lately, that he had behaved and spoken without thinking. But it was no excuse for him acting like a jerk.

Yoongi was right, Maya had entrusted them and opened up to them. And she was a friend. Last night during her breakup with her ex, she had proved how great of a friend she was. He had fucked up.

He turned towards the hall, but Maya was long gone. "I didn't mean it that way; just that we're not that close like I am with you guys or my other friends."

“Listen, whatever backward, caveman mentality you have on guy and girl friendships, I couldn't give two shits about. But the rest of us do consider her a friend. She's shown great loyalty to us not only professionally—she's defended us countless times in the media whenever some idiot makes a racist or homophobic comment about us—but just last night she even defended us privately. It looked like she was about to fight her ex after he said what he said."

"I know," Namjoon agreed. "She's amazing. We're lucky to have an ally like her."

"We're lucky to have a friend like her," Yoongi corrected him.

Namjoon just gave a nod, his eyes still on the hall, where Maya had disappeared into. He was still debating on going after her.

"We have a full schedule today,” Yoongi said, knowing exactly what was going through Namjoon’s head. “It’s best to call her. See if you can meet tonight or tomorrow morning before we fly out.”

Namjoon nodded, taking out his phone.

“I know you can be blunt with your honesty, but you really need to think before you speak. Especially when it comes to someone who hasn't come to fully know you quite yet. Set things right with her, Namjoon. Don’t fuck it up with her. She’s a good person,” Yoongi said then turned back to his room.

Namjoon pressed Maya’s name on his contacts. He left a message, apologizing over and over.

Around noon, she still hadn’t responded, so he called again.

That night, he called again.

And again.

And again….

***********

~MAYA~

I had only agreed to meet with him after the 10th voicemail. Plus, Yoongi had sent me a message, telling me to give RM an opportunity to explain.

It was the following morning when we met. The guys always booked out an entire floor, meaning there were plenty of empty rooms. When I entered the room, RM was already inside waiting.

He stood up once he saw me. “Thank you for coming,” he said politely.

Instantly, I felt an uneasiness in my stomach. No words came out of me; I remained standing, just staring at him.

RM took a breath, a look of regret washing over his face. “I want to apologize for yesterday. What I said, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I do value your friendship. Please, do not think I don’t,” RM sounded like he was pleading.

A rush feeling of flight took over, I didn’t want to be here. However, my feet remained still “You don’t have to apologize for something you feel. I shouldn’t have made assumptions. I feel embarrassed for putting you in an awkward position.”

“No. Not at all. I—”

My feet jerked and I could feel them wanting to make their way to the door. I forced my body to remain still. “I don’t want to keep talking about this; it’s upsetting. And I don’t want to cry in front of you.” I don’t know what possessed me to be so blunt and honest. Maybe it was because it was my best bet for him to let me leave without causing a scene.

I took a deep breath, trying my best to maintain control of my emotions. “Let’s continue as we have. When the guys invite me over, I’ll come over like normal. If you need some advice with English, it’s fine if you email me or text me like you usually do. I’ll be sure to stop inviting you over to hang out. Now, all these years later, I understand why you never accepted my invitations, so I’ll stop putting you in an uncomfortable situation.”

“Maya—”

“I know you have your flight to catch, so I’ll be on my way out.” My feet finally won the battle and moved towards the door.

RM’s long legs were quick; he made his way in front of me, blocking me. “I’m sorry, Maya. Please. I want to set things right.”

I always spoke in Korean with all the guys. Every once in a while I would say some English words, but normally I stuck with Korean. It was a struggle since Korean was not my first language and one that I didn’t use daily. Even with my Tia Jia and her family, I spoke more English with them than Korean. I never told any of the guys, not even Hoseok, but it certainly took a lot of energy when I was with them. It never felt stressful, though, because the guys were worth it—they were my friends. But I suddenly didn’t feel the drive to overwork my brain. Maybe it was because RM wasn’t a friend.

I decided to stick to English. “You meant what you said. As shitty as it felt, you meant it. I don’t want you to let Suga make you feel guilty. Everything is fine with us professionally. Personally, I’m hurt. I don’t want to be here because I know I’m going to cry and I don’t want to do that in front of you.”

It was like someone had just slapped him in the face, RM looked so taken aback and hurt. He composed himself and gave a nod. “Ok. Can we talk later?” He asked softly in English.

He looked like a kicked puppy and the sad tone in his voice made my stomach turn. Guilt. I wanted to forgive him and forget all the words from nights ago because he did look to mean his apology, but my pride kept me from accepting it. “Maybe. I don't know.”

He leaned forward like he was about to take a step closer to me but he stopped himself and stayed at a distance. “I'll call you this weekend,” he said with determination, still in English.

I didn’t say anything. I walked out and went into the hall, heading to the elevator.

He stayed at the doorway, watching me as I waited for the elevator doors to open.

I kept my head high, doing my best to not give in and cry. Even as I entered the elevator, I kept it in, not allowing my emotions to come undone until I was on the highway.

RM did call me that weekend. Several times. At all times of the day. But I didn’t pick up.

********

He called again several days later. But still, I did not answer.

He sent messages, asking when I was free. He would make time. I didn’t reply.

A couple of weeks after, there were a few emails, asking the same question. But they all went unanswered.

In the months that followed, my communication with the rest of the guys increased. Not only was I chatting with Hoseok, Jimin, Tae, and Yoongi, but Jungkook and Jin would randomly send me messages as well. Jungkook's were scarce, but knowing he wasn’t much of a texter meant a lot. Jin's messages were mostly funny video clips of them. We played a few mobile games together. With the two of them, I felt a sweet and genuine friendship. 

But even though it felt nice to have six of them in my life, it felt like something was missing. I would get the urge to message RM, but I didn’t know how to start a conversation. I slowly began to see things more logically; my anger faded, and my hurt no longer took precedence. However, my pride would then take over. I became determined not to allow myself to be weak again. RM had hurt me and I shouldn’t let him do it again. I didn’t need to beg someone to be friends with me. Hoseok and Jimin had been right that night I had broken up with my ex. I needed to start cutting bad people out of my life. Not that I thought RM was a bad person, but he certainly was someone who didn’t care about me. Why should I keep someone in my life if I didn’t matter to them?

As the months went on, RM’s phone calls stopped. His text messages didn’t come anymore. Some emails were exchanged. But they were always work-related and kept cordial on my end.

I took notice he always signed off with, “Call me anytime.”

But I didn’t do so.

*****

-November 2017-

In the many months that followed, I managed to make drastic changes in my life. I cut off anyone in my life that was not a good influence. Taking the guys’ advice to me, I made sure to only keep people who I knew had my best interest at heart. The guys I normally went for, I made sure to avoid. No artists, no musicians, no guys dressed in that homeboy style. Those were my rules. If a guy came up to me with any one of those characteristics, I dodged them.

I managed to catch a couple of good guys but dumped them pretty quickly after finding no real chemistry with them.

It was a good and positive change for me. I felt better than ever knowing I was actively being more positive.

However, something seemed off still. And I knew why that was.

After many talks with Hoseok, Yoongi, and my Tia Jia, I finally got the courage to send Namjoon a message.

The guys were scheduled to come back to LA and it felt like a good time to meet with RM.

Once again, we met at one of the many rooms they had checked out in their hotel.

This time, I made sure to be the first to arrive. I felt it was only fair. It was difficult not to acknowledge that he had in fact all he could to set things right. He had done his best to reach out to me; it was my turn to reach out just as much.

As he entered the room, I got to my feet. “Hi.”

Being the ever-polite young man he was, RM gave me a proper bow, thanking me for meeting him.

 My heart squeezed at seeing this. Guilt came over. How could I ever have thought any part of RM was negative? He had made a mistake. He was allowed to do so. He was human.

RM had a whole speech prepared. It was like he had rehearsed it several times, hardly taking a breath. “I do see you as a friend. I always have. I was an idiot to have said what I said," was how he ended his speech.

I gave him a small nod. “I appreciate your apology. And I’m sorry on my end for not reaching out earlier. I think it was my pride mixed in with my embarrassment for my overreaction, but—”

“You didn’t overreact,” RM cut me off. “You were right to be upset. I spoke without thinking. Just like you told me, you shouldn’t apologize for how you feel.”

I was quiet for a moment, considering his words.

“So, can we be friends?” RM asked with a teasing smile.

His dimples made the butterflies in my stomach go wild. I felt the crush I had for him emerging. I did my best to squash it. “Yes,” I answered.

The dimples on his cheeks deepened.

Wanting to forget the last half year, I decided to move the conversation to something lighter. “Ok, I need some guy advice and Hoseok and Yoongi still haven’t answered my damn messages.”

“I’m all ears,” he said, taking a seat on the couch and giving me all of his attention. He seemed eager to prove himself.

“So, there’s these two guys I’m talking to—only talking. Nothing physical has happened with either one of them…yet,” I said with a snicker.

“Ok, I see where this is going,” RM said with a smile. “Been on dates with either one of them? Gone to dinner with them?”

“Went on a couple of dates so far with both of them. Dinner with both.”

“How did they treat the staff?”

I frowned, not understanding.

He read my confusion. “Go on a dinner date with both of them again. Look for an opportunity for the staff to make a mistake and see how they react. You can tell a lot about a person by how they treat staff. If he’s an ass, don’t make excuses, and stop talking to him. Keep the one who is humble and treats the staff like a decent human being.”

I considered his advice and concluded it was a pretty damn good one. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

“What do these two guys do? What vocation are they in?”

“One is a talent agent, really hot and a pretty good smooth talker—very fun to be around. And the other one is an attorney. He’s alright, but a little boring.”

“What makes him boring?” RM asked curiously.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Just doesn’t seem to be too exciting. A real homebody, which I’m cool with, but you know—I like to go out, you know. Possibly travel; have some fun. This talent agent and I have gone to the club and I had a good time with him. The attorney I have yet to have fun with.”

RM stopped me. “Wait, I’m remembering something. Weren’t you dating some actor? I thought I saw you at one of the premieres with him.”

“Oh, yeah. We dated for a few months, but it didn’t last. His schedule got to be too much.”

RM seemed to be thinking. “Was it just the schedule that was an issue? You’re an artist, you should be able to understand a busy schedule and work it out.”

I felt I was being called out. “Fine. It wasn’t his schedule. He just…he was a bit bland.”

RM chuckled. “Bland?”

“Yeah, he tended to like the quieter dates. A simple dinner and a movie at his place. He never wanted to go out.”

RM cocked his eyebrow, signaling to me that he suspected something about me.

I was sure I knew what he was thinking. “So, I prefer to have fun. What’s wrong with that?”

RM put a hand in defense and laughed lightly. “No, I don’t mean to judge. It’s just that…it seems like you aren’t willing to bend a little to the guys’ preference. Being part of a couple is sometimes doing things for the other person. Just like you want to go to the club with him, maybe give him that night in.”

I let his words marinade, considering if he was right.

“Maya, I say this as a friend who cares for you: many of your past boyfriends haven’t been the best choices. Maybe try going for a guy completely different than what you’re used to. I’m not saying change your personality, but start being open to someone very different than who you usually go for.”

He was kind of making sense.

“Give this lawyer guy a chance,” he suggested with a warm smile.

I gave him a nod.

On the following dates I had with the talent agent and the attorney, I paid attention to how they were with the staff. The talent agent failed miserably, snapping at staff at the first opportunity. However, the attorney, a guy named Jerry, was a complete gentleman.

I followed my friend’s advice and decided to see where this thing with the attorney would lead.

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

AN: I've been wanting to do a Namjoon POV and I finally found the perfect spot for it! 🥰

ANNOUNCEMENT: The next two weeks will be pretty busy at work. I might go a couple of weekends without posting, my apologies. The good thing is we are closer to the end of this story.

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

MASTERLIST

[kaddyssammlung]

BPD / C-PTSD / bad relationship dynamics in Sleep Token lyrics - Part 4 (last part)

TW: mental health stuff

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Granite

“Sulfur on your breath Granite in my chest”

I said something about sharing unhealthy coping mechanisms with your partner. It's not good. Alcohol on my breath and the smell of weed on his.

“You won't ever have to talk about it you'll never wanna talk about it”

It makes me think about trust and how much I'm able to really trust someone. What clues does someone give you that makes you trust them?

Last summer when that women started writing me messages because she wanted to get to know me, I thought about how much I should tell her. She wanted to know why I've single for such a long time. So I started my saying that I've struggled with addiction for a long time and that it was really hard to stop this. She said that she liked that I was honest. Well.....we talked more and then at some point I said that I have BPD and that I'm currently going through a rough time and that I feel unable to be in relationship. Right human being but the wrong time? Maybe?! She also opened up about her struggles with panic attacks.

Was it too much? Did I tell her too much?

I feel like when someone has a romantic interest in someone they deserve to know. Right?!

I used to not bring that stuff up and just go on dates and be nice and then end up sleeping with someone. That did not go well either.

Idk....I have no real point...

“Fury too damn late”

Now I'm angry about the relationship that I had with my boyfriend. About the manipulation and the things that he made me do but never wanted. And also the way that I acted. His behaviours were not okay but neither were mine.

“You say you want me, but you know I'm not what you need”

When I think back about the time where I had that boyfriend, he was for sure, not what I needed. I needed help. But I was not ready for it.

“We'd rather be six feet under then be lonely”

That's the reason why I kept ending up with horrible human beings. Because I used to feel exactly like that.

Vessel, I feel you. You deserve better then that and so do I.

I could just say so much about this one line. This is the essence of BPD to me.

But I already said so much...

“before you started getting all aggressive and controlling”

I know. Okay...stop calling me out like that!

Aqua Regia

“Putting down the roses picking up the sword”

It took me so damn long to find a will to live and also to find a willingness to change. You don't get better unless you really, really, really want to and even then it's hard. It was very hard for me.

Vore

“You have become the voice in my head”

All of them are the voice in my head.

My mother screaming at me and throwing things at me.....the gentle brainwashing that was done by the one who sa-ed me.....the eating disorder that still wants me to come back, the warm feeling that alcohol gave me, the stinging pain from SH.....Let's stop this...I'm drifting off....

“My life is torn my bones they bleed”

Through a fractured existence...

Abuse leaves you feeling like this. But so does dissociation......

Ascensionism

“Who made you like this? Who encrypted your dark gospel in body language?”

Idk...they say BPD has something to do with early abandonment so maybe that's the reason?

“Tell me you guessed my future and it mapped onto your fantasy”

That happened with my ex-girlfriend. I was already feeling a bit better and getter better and I could totally see what our relationship would be like.

It did not go well. I was wrong. I learned from it.

Are You Really Okay?

“I cannot fix our wounds this time”

Can you ever?!

Should you be with someone and be there to fix their wounds? I don't expect this anymore. I used to think like that but it did not work out well. I had to “fix” myself first.

The Apparition

“But I know you will disappear”

You make me wish I could disappear...

Vessel...they all do at some point but I guess that's life?!

Why even put yourself out there? Why put myself out there and get hurt again?

Do You Wish That You Loved Me?

“maybe not that you conceal your feelings they just don't exist”

You don't really love...you just hate to be alone!

“chronic feelings of emptiness” ….taken from the DSM 5....

Rain

“I finally think I can say that the vicious cycle was over the moment you smiled at me”

A knowing, a longing, a lost connection to something deeper. Something outside of me....

I recognized that when I started listening to spiritual teachers and slowly let something back into my life.

“A dangerous disposition”

We tend to end up in prison. I can see why that is...that rage...dear God.

My dear humans...I'm going to stop here for now.

Idk when I will pick this back up.

I do see so much more in those lyrics.

“The divine” as he calls it or spirituality as I like to call it, the similarities between Carl Jung's encounters with entities and what it did to him....a lot like Vessel.....depression is also a big topic....

But right now: I'm done.

That was exhausting. BPD got me...I did not see that coming.

[harryleatherfit]

Upper East Side || A.U

Frankie Morales

Chapter 7: Call

word count: 2823

warnings: smut, mentions of p and v sex, mentions of squirting, mentions of abuse, emotionally abusive mom, mentions of calorie counting, mentions of disowning, horrible daughter mother relationship, mentions of abusive dad, let me know if i’ve missed any

rating: mature, 18+

Laylah uses they/them pronouns btw!

🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩

———

Frankie POV-

She’s my girl. He thought.

Frankie was stretched out on his king sized bed, in his lonely brownstone. All the possibilities that were in the back of his head came true. He finally got to kiss you. His body was on fire with you in that bathroom. He brought his fingers to his swollen lips, remembering the crevices of your lips, reminiscing on your smell.

After the bathroom together, you both walked out of the crowd lingering in the back where no one could know who you two were. It was magical. The sensual club made you both feel alive, your bodies moving together, in rhythm never failing to fall apart. Kissing so much- the language your lips spoke was fluid love.

Is this love, what the fuck is this?

Frankie rethought the whole night to himself. He vowed he would never say the love word, ever fucking again.

This is a quick, short lived thing. Just fun. Love is complicated.

His last girlfriend left him with no notice, he came home one day and she was completely gone. Blocked on every social media, a note saying “you were too easy.”

That took Frankie years to recover from, he had given his all into his relationship with his ex, he started himself over again. To finally be left in the end and having to start from square one.

But he eventually learned that quick fucks here and there would do the trick, he didn’t need the emotional attachment, and his job kept him busy most of the time.

But he felt different about you. You gave him that jumpstart to his heart. Something he hasn’t felt since childhood. He’d been alone his entire life, he didn't know what love is, but when your eyes connect it feels like the walls of his heart are repairing themselves.

The more he thought about your body, the way you felt on his fingers, the walls of your pussy enclosing every time he spoke appraisal towards you.

He snaked his hand to move his pants down to his thighs, along with boxers. Finally letting his cock free from entrapment.

He hissed when the cold draft of his room met the skin of his dick, still so raw from being hard with you.

He picures you by his side, propping yourself on his thighs, rubbing your pussy lips back and forth on the head of his cock. Your pussy so perfect, always so ready for him. He loved that you weren’t fully shaved. It made him feel like he was with a real women and made him want to fuck you more. He hated how women were so ashamed of body hair, it’s natural and nothing to hide. He loved that you opened up to him after being so shy, he embellished in the feeling of you being so comfortable around him. Eating your pussy out was a next level of heaven for Frankie, your hairs brisking against his jaw. Making everything ten times more erotic. He dreamt of your first time together.

“Fuck baby you’re so slick for me. Every damn time, this pussy could quench the whole Sahara desert. Does my cock make this much of a mess from this plump pussy?”

“Frankie, fucking slip it in already I won’t say it twice. Please I’ll be such a good girl. I promise.”

“I guess a good girl knows what she wants? You think you’ve earned my cock?” He asks, and immediately slips in his throbbing cock inside your cunt. He could imagine the feeling of your warm pussy eveloping his dick immediately, accepting its invitation.

He couldn’t last for much longer, the thought of you bouncing on his cock, squirming every time he thrusted into you, you screaming bloody murder, that's how good he would make you feel.

And finally, the thought of you squirting all over his cock and soaking his bush immediately made white spurts of cum shoot out and cover his hand.

“Fuck, fuck fuck baby. Shittttt.” He had to catch his breath, he was so delirious on the thought of you, his orgasm fully took the life out of him.

He felt sexed out, but he needed you, not just for sex. Not how biologically men usually need women. Men only see women as objects and sex toys, and the times he fucked around, he felt bad. He felt like he was a part of the problem, but he would do anything to be better for you. He needs you to breathe, you light his soul on fire. He can see the passion in your eyes, and he knows he will do anything to earn it.

-----

You got home and immediately fell asleep, the sleep crash you got after being high taxed your body. Waking up foggy but still remembering every moment with him.

Your body felt so relaxed after being with Frankie. You never had a man touch you like that before, and you couldn’t believe how much he enjoyed himself. The whole night you thought your eyes were mistaking themselves.

But no matter what, he always made your heart jump a beat when he spoke. And you get to see him again today.

You notice that Laylah is already gone and note on your night stand saying

“Sleep in, I have coffee waiting for you at rehearsal. Last night was interesting. xo.”

Shit. A lead being late for the first rehearsal would not be okay.

You pack your shit together, along with some snacks to tie you over for the day, you look messy and dead in the mirror.

Perfect

“It’ll be okay.” You look in the mirror. You walk out the door and speed to the arts center. Seeing Frankie is your main motivation for the day.

-----

You walk through the school building and find the entrance to the theater, opening the door to find the whole company sitting at tables. Double-shit. On time apparently, is late.

Everyone looks towards you, murmurs abrupt into a never abyss. You’ll never understand this damned school. You find Laylah sitting in the far corner, and as you advance towards her you can hear someone walking behind you. Frankie.

He just walked down from the booth, perfect timing as fucking always.

His presence behind you made your body jolt, your insides churn with desire.

You can’t read his expression, his eyes and mouth are always downturned. You can’t tell if he’s happy or not, he stops abruptly next to you, “Your neck looks colorful, huh?” He whispers, looking in his peripheral.

Shit, you didn’t even bother to wear anything to cover your chest or neck, Frankies hickeys littered your entire upper half but no one knew that. And he just walks past you, taking a seat next to all the directors.

You closely follow taking a seat next to Laylah, you see Nina in the back taking coffee and food orders. Of course she’s sucking up, she’d do anything to assist or be a little pet. Her dad could get her anything at this school.

“All okay?” Laylah asks in a whisper, “You look a little, well, just a little tired and a little bruised.” She laughs.

“Yeah, I'm tired .” The last thing you need is for them to find out you had sex with Frankie. “Can’t believe she’s here.”

“Yeah don't pay attention to her, she’ll see we have coffee and she won’t even come up to us. Here, let me just wipe off your mascara.” She licks her thumb and cleans your eyes.

This is what you revelish in, the simplicity and purity of two humans taking each other. Laylah always took care of you.

“Okay people, first rehearsal.” Ms Roylance begins, “We have Mr. Morales here for his tech team, Mr. Garcia, and Mr. Davis for help. Today may be a long day, so plan accordingly and we’ll break at 4 for an early dinner.”

Nothing you’re not used to.

“I’ll first talk with the lighting team, then props and set design, costumes, makeup, and videography. Check your emails, I already sent out the itinerary for today.” Frankie stands up, walking around the group. You have the perfect sight of him, but you don’t dare trying to meet his eyes. The closest you challenge yourself is the zipper on his jacket. He doesn't deserve anything more.

“First actors, we’ll start with working on intimacy for Lady Mac and Mac. I’m sure this won’t be an issue for you two.” She catches your eyes.

You nod toward Mattias and smile, remembering your in class scene with him, and how easy it came to you both. This pairing made sense.

“And from there we’ll work with some King Duncan scenes. I’d expect us to get out a little after our dinner break but no later than 7! Costuming and make-up I expect you all to go heavy today.”

Groans were heard from the room.

“Hey!” Frankie shouts. “You all signed up for this, we don’t choose the hours, this is what it takes to put a show on broadway in a couple months. We know you all have classes here, we know you have jobs. If you give us respect, we’ll give you respect.”

The more he talked, the more you were turned on. He’s so stern with his words. His tough love made you want him more.

“That being said, it's hard start in 5 minutes.” Roylance closes off.

-------

“Ok Matias, I want you to just hold her cheek a little closer, just to make the audience want more from you two.”

You’ve been working on this scene for a few hours now. Correcting and implementing notes.

“Is it okay if I move a little downstairs to get to him before this?” You ask Roylance.

“Sure, do what you like, note that ASM’s.”

The stage managers and carpentry crew were working all around the actors and the theater was bustling with urban life. You felt immersed in this world.

Matias is so close to you, you both are sharing the same air to breathe.

“Is this okay?” He asks, “Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah you’re fine, and during the show I don’t care how you touch me, whatever makes it look the most real.”

“Testing, testing 1,2.” Frankie calls over the god mike.

You look up to him and he’s glaring at you. Hand over his chin and licking his lips.

Jealous?

Matias is still holding you, so you get closer to him going along with your characters dialogue and notes from Ms. Roylance. Hoping that Frankie is watching your every move, what was he gonna do?

You rub circles on Matias’s shoulder and double take to Frankie, he’s standing now. Hunched over in the booth and you chuckle.

Your phone starts to buzz in your pocket, you search for it, the lit up screen…

“Mom?” Why the hell would she be calling you?

“Um Ms. Roylance, I’m so sorry for this, may I excuse myself, I have to take this phone call I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Oh no it’s okay we should break for dinner anyways.” She puts her hands around her mouth, “Company, hour dinner break be back at 5 sharp.”

You run off into a secret hallway in the back of the auditorium, “Hello?”

“Is this my daughter?” She seethes through the receiver.

“Yeah, this is her.” You scoff.

“Why the fuck did you not tell me you were leaving UNCSA to go to NYU, you know that 10x the amount, how the hell are you going to pay for that?”

“Well Alyssa, after I left for college I believe we served ties and you didn’t seem to give a shit that I left. You didn’t pay for UNCSA, I did so I always find a way to pay for college.”

“No sweetie, you wanted to leave like a little brat and you didn’t want to follow my rules. You wanted to eat whatever you wanted, you wanted to stay out all hours of the night, you wanted to engage in illegal activities, you wanted to whore around and I bet that’s how you pay for college. You chose to leave.”

You couldn’t believe that 3 years later she still fucking cares how you go on about your life. “ I understand that I turned 18 and I tried things that you weren't a fan of. And as a teenager I was disrespectful, but listen here, you will never ever get to terrorize me again. You sheltered me my entire life, you were the one that gave me an eating disorder, you bullied me from a young age. You couldn't control your own life, so you controlled mine. Dad left you because of that. You are your own fucking fault. No amount of your manipulation will make me feel bad for you.

“You’re a disrespectful little shit that doesn't know her manners, I’m glad I disowned you. You aren’t my daughter. The day you stopped counting your calories was when I stopped loving you. You aren’t going to make it in the acting world-

“Well fucking watch me bitch.” You yell through the phone and hang up.

Tears are streaming down your face and you pray no one could hear you. Your mothers voice could be practically heard around the world when she would yell at you. Your screaming matches growing up got the cops called once or twice.

What was her purpose of calling you? Just because you left the state doesn’t mean anything to her. She called once or twice when you were in Winston- Salem, just to see if you had booked anything or to see how your grades were, but she knew you would never come home again. There was no reason to. Your dad was abusive growing up, and when he finally left you were left with your emotionally abusive mother, there was no want to go back to a dead childhood.

There were days you missed your mom, the days where you felt like a little girl and not a full grown adult at the age 10, but that was rare.

You stand up and step out the hallway, the theater is empty, you grab your things and decide to head to the booth. It would be an easier place to annotate your script in peace and cry. No matter how much you didn’t care about your mom, she always could find this crevice in your body that would make you cry for hours uncontrollably. You had an hour of peace.

You walk up into the booth, “Shit stick, what's wrong? I tried looking for you.” Laylah was sitting in a chair in front of the lighting board and this techie guy was sitting next to her.

“Oh hi um, sorry I don’t mean to intrude, you probably don’t want to hear this.” You say toward the man.

“Oh no problem, I have no one to tell, you can say anything I don’t mind.” He utters.

“Yeah babe, don’t mind him. Seriously you can talk, it's safe here. I saw Nina walk out 10 minutes ago, what's on your mind?”

You wish you could talk about Frankie, but that's far from voicing to anyone, even your best friend and her random man friend. So your mom it is.

“My mom called.”

“Shit, what’d she have to say?”

You start to break, “Well she was aksing about UNCSA, and NYU and then she went into just her manipulative shit as always and-” Snot drips down your face, “Fuck” You wipe, “She just has this way of always reminding me of how I was such a shitty daughter and she will never let down my childhood, I’m sick and fucking tired of her.”

“Hug?” Laylah asks with her arms out.

You embrace her and stay there for a while. “Can I hug too?” The man asks.

“Bring it in” You voice with a smile.

“This is Bryce, by the way. We have a class together and he does lighting for the show. We got your coffee together this morning.” Laylah reveals.

“Well hello special man,” You give your hand to shake his,”Ever so pleased to meet you.”

“And you.” He laughs.

“Well thank you for this, I can sit in the corner, I was gonna just annotate my script and put in my headphones so you guys can get back to business.” You wink.

“We're about to leave to get Boba, but you have your fun with your script date!”

“I’ll tell you all about it tonight.” You yell after them.

If Laylah dates Bryce, you’d be happy. He looks like a good fellow? Fuck what were guys your age that are nice supposed to look like? He looked fine, you’re glad Laylah is exploring.

You get your pens and markers out and dive into the world of Macbeth, expecting the next 50 minutes to be a world of disaster.

——

previous || next

authors note: this is kinda a filler and shorter.. and i haven’t read through it for mistakes…..BUT i’m out of school and i have so much time to write, and i have many chapters planned 🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️

[humanoidalien27]

Content warning: trauma poking

......

Chapter 11

Allies and Enemies

   Not happy about being left behind, Felix decided to take Sebastian's mind off it by teaching him Expecto Patronum.

"You need a good memory. The happiest one you have..."

Was all you heard as you, Granny, Deek, Anne and Ominis left the room of requirement.

You were going to Sharp. Anne was going to Ronen. Ominis to Hecat. Deek to Weasley and Granny to Garlick.

So, you split up to head towards their classrooms.

Sharp was setting up his potions when you entered.

"I know you're there, Felix. I was wondering when you'd come talk to me." He turned, his eyes widening when he turned. "Hmm, your steps are too close to your father's. I assume you already knew about your relationship with him?"

"I'm aware he thinks I'm his child but isn't sure."

He eyed your body language, seeing it hopeful but on guard, nodding in understanding.

"De'lany was a good man, but you bare no habits or facial structure of his. Couple that with your school house, I'm inclined to believe Felix. What did you come here for?"

"We've found proof about the Ministry sending innocents to Azkaban to silence those who find out about Spavin's unsavory side dealings."

"And Mr. Sallow? You can't tell me he was an innocent party to his uncle's death."

You knew that Sebastian's circumstances could make people hesitant, but had hoped that his teachers would know him better.

"No, but I also have proof it was done in self defense. Solomon came to that catacomb to kill Sebastian and myself. I'd be more than happy to show the truth to you, if you'd trust me enough to take you to where we're staying."

"Why did you come alone? Pretty confident I would believe you? There are rumors that you went to Azkaban and broke them out. Is that true?"

He made no attempt to reach for his wand, not that his comment didn't hit as hard as a spell. "Technically, I went there to break Sebastian out. Felix was his cellmate."

"What were the reasons you decided to take it upon yourself to break a criminal free? Did you come across this evidence previously?"

"No. I used my head. Sebastian was immediately put into jail without an investigation. That was the biggest thing I couldn't get past. The other thing was, I killed Ranrock and was called a hero. Sebastian killed his abuser, the guy who was going to just watch his sister die, the guy who was going to kill me just because I was there and he's called a killer."

Sharp nodded. "The difference is, you didn't use a unforgivable."

"I'm sure Ranrock would have preferred it as opposed to being pummeled with confringo, flipendo and incendio. He still ended up just as dead as Solomon."

"Did you kill your parents with that way of thinking?"

Floored by the question, you had to do a double take. "I didn't kill my mother. As for my father," you swallowed hard, the direct stare Sharp was giving you warned you not to lie. "I killed my father, but not by my choice."

He eyed you, the interrogation having a purpose, you just couldn't figure out what.

"Felix went to Azkaban to prevent you from going, you know that right? He asked me to arrest him. It was only after that we found evidence pointing to him. My boss called it a seal on his sentence, but I knew better," he replied, moving closer, his eyes still staring hard into yours. "As an ex auror I needed to make sure you weren't under the Imperious curse. Bringing up painful memories is the fastest way to tell. Those incapable of thinking for themselves wouldn't have a reaction. You did, and you were honest with all my questions, so I will give you the chance to explain your side."

Relieved, you sighed. "Alright, this way professor."

   You did enjoy watching him get confused as you made your way further into Hogwarts rather than away from it.

And once you walked into the room, you saw all the teachers had already gathered.

"The last one to show up, huh?" Sebastian teased, his eyes moving over your head, getting the smirk to wipe off quickly.

"He wanted to make sure I wasn't under the Imperious curse," you admitted as you walked over, the twins, Felix and Ominis tensing at the mention of it.

"Or someone donning your features with polyjuice potion," Sharp added, before moving over to his fellow colleagues. "So where is this evidence you were talking about?"

You moved over carrying your bag and pulled out the confidential papers, Solomon's journal and the Minister's personal papers varying between side notes, death tally, victims and his thoughts and placed them on the table before the teachers.

"That bag has an undetectable extension charm, doesn't it?" Ronen asked way too happy about it. "You've been studying outside the curriculum. Good for you."

You cleared your throat and stepped back, embarrassment heating your cheeks. You'd only learned it to smuggle Sebastian out of Azkaban. 

"Where did you get all of these?" Weasley asked as she picked up a page.

"Someone sent me the confidential file, they claimed they were a friend of professor Fig, Miriam and George Osric. They sent those to me and said they were closing in on them. I haven't been able to find out who-"

"Auror Richard Jordon," Sharp said barely having time to look at the page. "I'd recognize this sloppy handwriting anywhere. He's a very level headed man. If he's sending this to you, then things are worse than even we might know."

"That's great," you complained softly.

"Why would he send this to a student?" Weasley asked, her tone taking an edge she only heard after she was told the truth about what you and Fig were doing.

"Jordon never acts without reason. I think given their inclination for ancient magic, that she now has mastery of, if they manage to use the Imperious curse on her, she'd make a formidable ally."

Your stomach twisted hard as a cold numbness began to spread.

"It was a good thing to bring those you care about with you, people like this don't hesitate to use them to gain the upper hand."

"All this can't just be because of the ancient magic," you replied softly, grabbing your friends attention.

"You're going to be fine-" Felix started.

"But Natty, Poppy, Garreth, professor Onai, everyone I've helped is at risk right now."

Weasley smiled, grateful you're thinking of others whilst in danger.

"My nephew is perfectly safe, we're a large family. But if it will bring you peace, we can send them an owl warning them of possible danger."

You nodded as you rubbed your temples from the pressure building there.

"Come on, let's let the professors read, while we visit your beasts." Sebastian said, already pushing you towards the closest vivarium.

     You paced, the soothing environment of the vivarium wasn't helping. Ominis, Anne and Sebastian could only watch as you spoke softly to yourself, nothing they said seeming to reach your ears.

You wanted to go bring them all to the room, but what if it was a trap or they were already gone? You also couldn't risk everyone else trying to go looking for them.

"Don't even think about it," Ominis said once you stopped. "The last time something like this happened, you went off to Azkaban alone. If you're who they're really after, you'd just serve yourself up on a plate."

"I know, but-"

Sebastian grabbed your wrist, tugging on it until you were sitting in the grass with them.

"This isn't your fault and you're not alone either. The professors will think of something. I mean, Sharp and Felix are ex-aurors. Hecat was an unspeakable. Garlick is savvy with those plants. Weasley's practically the headmistress here and knows probably more than Black ever has. Ronen, may have a playful personality, but I guarantee you that if it comes down to it, he'll be an opponent to watch out for. Onai and her daughter can use wandless magic. In a fight, they'd be hard to take out."

"As much faith as you have in our abilities Mr. Sallow, we'd be horribly out numbered," Weasley said as the group of adults walked in. "But this cannot continue either. We've decided to try a gamble of sorts, in hopes of cutting the head off the snake, so to speak. To do that, we're going to need you to study hard at what we're going to teach you. As if your life depended on it, because it just might."

.....

Previous

Next

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

tw: SA of minors by adults, creepy behavior by adult toward minors, stalking mention, very abusive, violent and dangerous abuser.

looking for: someone to listen

im finding out more and more about my abuser which validates I know I went through abuse by her but it scares me bc she apparently had hooked up with a minor when we were YA after high school sometime I think. she had abused many exes ive spoken with including ex-friends who really hate her now and im in touch with a couple of her exes. she downplays the violent and scary abuse and stalking she's put people through by acting like "everyones toxic, so what" kind of mindset about it... she really traumatized a certain ex of hers by literally man handling her ex and showing up in the middle of the night to try to break into the house, and SA'd her ex multiple times bc the victim kept going back obviously as we do as abuse victims.... I went back to this abuser multiple times as well...super scary. ive been speaking with victims. she's been stalking me with her friends. I regularly talk to some of these victims and thankfully have good relationships with them, they believe me that I was abused by her of course bc they were too. idk what to do about a stalker who literally knows and admitted to the fact that she knew she abused me since the beginning when we first met. I know looking back at my interactions with her over the years I had good intentions, my thoughts and intentions were not malice or manipulative but simply confused... but she tried manipulating me into a situation to try to SA me, like not telling me she wanted sex but trying to get me to have sex by manipulating the circumstances so she could get what she wanted for her own pleasure and I ended up feeling trapped and it happened but I didn't and couldn't consent... and she did end up SA me bc im displaying symptoms of SA and symptoms in relation to her but I have no memory of the SA. there was another person she kept trying to fuck but the person didn't want to have sex, and she kept manipulating the circumstances by making the victim drink more to see if she's trying to fuck but thats rape... and she admitted to it but she makes excuses like "people change their minds" and "if she didn't want it she would've stopped me" like what.

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry about what you've been through. Experiencing trauma like this can be devastating, and it's important to acknowledge that what you went through is valid regardless of what your abuser has done against others. But it certainly can create a sense of unity, solidarity, and belonging to have a support system of other survivors who were victimized by your abuser, and it can be incredibly meaningful to surround yourself with people who believe you.

It can be incredibly challenging to deal with abusers like this, who avoid accountability, downplay the gravity of their actions, and manipulate people in order to take advantage of them. It sounds like there are unfortunately multiple instances of your abuser doing these things, and it's important to note that repeated trauma can have a cumulative effect, making it more difficult to heal from, though not impossible.

I think it's also important to just say that regarding the idea that "if she didn't want it she would've stopped me", it sadly neglects other cues like body language, and other factors like fear and intimidation, which can all make it harder for someone to feel comfortable withdrawing their consent. Verbal consent is not the only kind of consent, and I thought it would be a good opportunity to reaffirm that.

If you can access or afford it, a mental health professional such as a therapist can help you process your experiences and develop some healthy coping mechanisms that you can take with you along your healing journey.

I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[mmepennance]

Things that cross my mind when you tell me ‘But I know women who was *Falsely Accused*..,

I always wonder how many of the people who say they “know someone who was falsely accused” are actually wrong about that whole ‘False’ part.

We, as normal, social people, don’t want to believe that people we know, like, or are related to, are capable of doing - or have actually done - bad or harmful things to other people.

It’s very easy to keep believing the idea that assault victims are lying, instead of accepting that the people that we know and like can do (or have done) bad things - regardless of if the assaulter even recognized that the things they did were assault.

Almost every woman I have ever known has experienced sexual assault at least once from someone they were already acquainted with, were close friends with, or were related to; yet most men I’ve talked to about this don’t think they know a person capable of being a sexual violator.

So, back to the ‘I know someone who was falsely accused’ thing. It’s worthwhile to ask questions:

- Were they really falsely accused?

- Could they have a messed up notion of consent that made them unable to recognize actual consent, and its revocation?

- Did they cross boundaries because they chose not to see them, did not recognize them, or projected their desires onto or over someone’s vocal denials, physical avoidance and other clearly non-consenting body language and responses until that person gave in due to fear or coercion?

- If the accuser is ‘acting crazy’, is it because being assaulted and traumatized causes emotional responses make sense in that traumatized context?

- Could the accused person have been lying to you? Abusers can be outgoing and charming to those that aren’t the type they target and harm; were you also groomed to be the abuser’s support group against any victims?

- Are there indications of DARVO? (Defend/deflect, attack, reverse victim and offender)

- Did you believe the accused person because you recognized that maybe you’ve done the same or similar things, and therefore believing the victim would mean you would need to deal with the idea that you’ve caused similar harm and that’s too painful to confront about yourself?

- Is the accused person part of the same social or other group identity that you both shared, so you are subconsciously biased in their favor against outsider accusations?

- Did you like the accused more than the accuser?

- Did you believe the accused because they were more popular than the accuser?

- Did you value the relationship or perks of friendship with the accused person more than the accuser, or choose the side of the person who was more fun to be around?

Numerically, we all must know people who’ve committed sexual abuse. They hide in plain site, groom us to support them, and vilify their strings of ‘crazy exes’.

We choose who we want to believe, and often it’s not victims.

So yeah, I wonder how many of those ‘false accusation’ aren’t actually false.

And I wonder, does the assaulter recognize or not that what they did was harmful or wrong? Or do they actually believe the stories about themselves where they get to stay the hero of their own story?

Because a number of these ‘falsely accused’ people may truly believe they’ve done nothing wrong, or even have no memory of negative actions - yet they are still the monster in someone else’s nightmare.

How many barely registered ‘they were a terrible, no-good, very-bad, boring lay’ stories were experienced by that other person as traumatic assault?

And that guts me, the ones who don’t even remembers their actions, yet those actions still harmed and haunt their victims.

[extinctdreamdiary]

Ya boi got Dumped

Long story.

It really was for the best, and I had been planning to break up with them for a hot minute because we are NOT well aligned and I had grown to resent them instead of having ~feelings~ for them.

We got together a few years ago and it was nice. I didn't realise at the time that I was putting in all the effort, but I was. We have totally different needs/love languages. Mine is doing favours/giving things, theirs is touch. We're both autistic so I don't love long periods of touch and I thought they were the same because after we moved in together for financial reasons they insisted on having their own room and expressed that they didn't really like sharing a bed.

Anyway recently they expressed they were touch starved and unfortunately there wasn't much I could do about it, so them dumping me was best for them.

Why was it good for me? My ex is a 'Chik-fil-a queer'. They bought the hogw4rts legacy game and didn't tell any of the friend group about it despite being a generally bubbly and oversharey type of person who likes to talk about themself (to a fault, another gripe but not a huge deal as they're neurodivergent and can't help it), specifically because all of the group are queer people and would be offended. However they have an online friend group about HP fanfiction that they were probably very excited to share it with them-- I don't know, none of us have ever been introduced to them in any way. They have stated that HP was one of the few enjoyable parts of their childhood and they just didn't want to let it go despite that I could say exactly the same and JKR successfully put me off the fandom. They also bought J4mes Ch4rles products after all that individual has done but 'it was ok because it was on clearance' ????

This year they are going on an overseas trip to meet their friend group and have been so strict with money so as to not pay for their groceries. We haven't said anything before to keep the peace but I expect we will be now. If it pushes them to move out living will be EXTREMELY lean for the rest of us.

Having experienced an abusive childhood and overbearing parenting, they value their independence a lot, and it took me a little while to get used to not being a 'normal' couple and while we planned a future together, they would never accept my input on any life decisions except living together. In the beginning we talked casually about kids and agreed that if we had them, we'd adopt them, as I in particular feel strongly that we should adopt over making children. It wasn't long before they changed their mind and expressed that they were going to have their own kid, with their own body, because it was easier. I can not fertilise them so they were just going to have casual sex with randoms. They also weren't interested in my or anyone else's input in parenting, they wanted the kid all to themself like the kid wouldn't be an actual person with the need to know who their other parent is and where they came from. THAT was the point at which I decided that when I was financially independent I would be leaving them.

All in all I feel like the whole relationship they didn't think much about anyone else's feelings, despite being supportive during my lowest points, which I will always be extremely thankful for because otherwise I would have been alone. And despite resolving to break up with them when it was convenient to me, being broken up with has still hurt. In the days leading up to it they had suddenly become very very withdrawn and they lash out in anger when they're going through it, another thing I had absolutely no idea how to deal with. The breakup speech itself was very amiable and I really had nothing to say. Now their mood is back to normal like they're just happy to have got shot of me and I also feel like I can't talk to our mutual friends about it, in part because I've been sort of trained out of venting to people due to one other friend that would always tell me to 'go do something about it then', they wouldn't necessarily get my reasons for wanting out and anyway, why am I upset if I wanted out anyway? My ex is back in the group chat like normal. I've muted it. I owe my ex a little money and as I'm only working part time all my extra cash is going to paying them back as quickly as I can so I can be done with it. Once I've paid it back I'm going to start going to therapy because LORD knows everybody in this situation needs it.

[parastin-system]

Responding to Infernal, supporting Big Crow and Cypress.

Telling an alter / part / person whatever that they are "less than a whole" less than a person, because they are part of a system is just fucking screwed up. Elaborated or Fragmented alters are a thing in actual DID research, Elaborated is an alter, a person; who has their own name, gender, age, likes, dislikes, wants and feelings, and sometimes all of that can be opposite to another elaborated alter in the same system.

Yeah, systems are extremely aware of that thanks? We know we share a body and brain dude, that doesn't mean that we don't or can't sometimes use language that indicates otherwise, on purpose or not.

Hey let me tell you a secret, most autistic systems are under 24/7 stress. Like always fucking stressed, science community says we don't know what an autistic person without trauma would look like because it has literally never happened yet and trauma causes all kinds of little lifelong stressors, having a hyperfix itself may feed into stress even because the hyperfix takes all of your motivation and time and as much as you are enjoying the hyperfix many autistic people are also uncomfortably aware of all the things they *aren't* doing because they are busy being hyper fixated, that's stress, which causes splits, and people don't have to voice, or even notice the stress to make their splitting valid.

This one I actually agree with, this is either an Endogenic thing, or a misunderstanding of what's happening. Some systems definitely can *predict* who they think might show up soon, this usually seems to be knowing themselves and their trauma and seeing themselves in a character and is thus restricted to fictives, it's also never a guarantee but a lot of self aware systems do know themselves enough to know if they are stressed or not and who might show up from a media based on connections they see in themselves. RAMCOA systems can have dictated alters, however these are chosen and created by the abuser and not the system within themselves to my current knowledge on the topic.

It really does exist though? If you have and or are capable of having, an inner world, then yeah it definitely exists, and also yes you can get drunk, and high, you can sleep, you can talk, dance, eat, drink, uh- do some other things that aren't suitable to talk about here, and believe me I have talked to a lot of systems who remember doing all those things within headspace. Headspaces come in all shapes and sizes and ideas, some systems have a hard wall between front and the inner world, some have very fluid rules between the two. Also I would generally agree that being drunk or high in headspace shouldn't affect the alter's behavior in front but just because it generally shouldn't doesn't mean it *can't* that's called a psychosomatic symptom baby, or you could be having some kind of medical episode you don't understand. Ex: I had an absence seizure one day and it felt like our frontier was high, we had been on Valeum before, that alter is a fictive of a character who smokes, our brain decided he had been smoking and that must be why we felt funny, our parents said we looked high while knowing we were not, **We were having a seizure.** And we didn't understand what was going on so we came to a weird conclusion.

I have heard this other places, it's not my place to speak on, I have always had a super detailed inner world, long before I realized I was a system, I was an imaginative kid who daydreamed my own stories or got lost in books to cope.

I'm not sure what you mean by this, there are two kinds of seeing, like *seeing* physically in front of you with your eyes, generally no, that would be a hallucination, but I agree with Cypress that I'm sure there are plenty of systems on the schizo-spectrum that physically see their alters around or near them. As for the other kind of seeing, you can absolutely "see" or sense what an alter looks like the same way you see the image of a character or another person in your head. I dunno why that wouldn't be a real thing.

Then why are you, a stranger on the internet, trying to fake claim other people's experiences and lives 0-o

I don't have the energy or knowledge to try and get into this one, personally I would usually agree that it takes repetitive trauma to create and reinforce a spit, not just one traumatic event and then everything being normal after that, however the definition of "repeated trauma" or stress becomes kinda fluid and stretchy when I try to puzzle it out and I would need to actually talk to some people.

Allright. Since I have smashed back half of my study project I can 1. Do some work on sysboxes. And 2 tell you all about some things of DID and parts/alters

1. If you have DID. Your not multiple parts or multiple "people" your less than one part. Less than one identity because yours didn't Intergrate due to trauma.

2. People with DID aren't literally multiple people in one body. You aren't sharing a body with other individuals. You are "sharing" a body with yourself and yourself only. Alters/parts are you, whether they have their own name or not.

3. You will not form a new alter/part purely based off of a hyperfixation. Parts form due to traumatic experiences and stress!

4. You cannot choose what alters/parts you have. Despite some being adamant that thats the only way you get new alters.

5. Innerworld or headspace does not exist. You cannot get drunk in headspace, you cannot get hurt, you will not get life threatening injuries that send you to an Innerworld hospital. It is a therapy technique. Nothing more nothing less.

6. Innerworlds are something everyone can have. Not just systems. Non disordered people can use this technique as well.

7. You cannot see your alters/parts.

8. People shouldn't care about being fakeclaimed by strangers online. A strangers opinion should not matter to you.

9. The only way to be a system is through repetitive childhood trauma.

- Vesper

[deadricslover]

"my heaven on earth"

here's my Masterlist!

he is so fucking attractive omg

a/n: not my gif! I got this as a request but I deleted it on accident😬. your requests are so good and because of that I would never tell u f off. maybe we should team up? im kidding don't worry. Was this a trope in a book? I think it was.

If you're in a relationship like the reader in this then please don't hesitate to get help. like Bruce says towards the end of this 'you have a right to be sad, even if he can't see that his behaviour is hurting you then that's enough'. that will make more sense when you read it lol. there are so many people or there for you so there's no need not to go to them <;3

summary: Richard is your soon to be ex boyfriend who has a tendency to act out and make you feel bad about yourself. One night you have had enough of it and decide to leave him for good this time, you don't have any other option but to go to your best friend Bruce for comfort and boy that is what he gave you.

warnings: mental abuse, angst, body dysmorphia, use of y/n, sexism, body shaming, language, pet names, pls tell me if I missed anything!

pairings: bale!Bruce Wayne X fem! reader. oc!ex bf X fem!reader

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

Lord, you adored your boyfriend, Richard. He was great in every way. In every way, from setting up dates, prioritizing you, in bed and everything else that comes with being in a partnership. You'd go to any length for him, and he'd reciprocate. You'd say meeting him was the most memorable experience of your life.

But you also despised him. Every blood cell in his body, every word he said, every strand of hair on his head, his odour, practically everything about that jerk. Your relationship with Richard was so perplexing; one minute you despised his guts, the next you loved him and felt sorry for him because of all you said to him in the previous argument. Nobody knew about it, you didn't know who to turn to for help, and even if you did, you'd think you were being dramatic because maybe this is how a normal relationship works. 'No matter how big or small, if it's making you feel that horrible, it has to be fixed' your best friend, Bruce, used to say when you're sad. You had no idea what you had done to deserve him. You couldn't talk to Bruce about Richard since he knew him and might not believe you.

You were currently waiting for Richard to return from who knows where to his flat. There was no need for him to be angry with you tonight because you had cleaned the place and made dinner. So you thought. When the stench of burning touched your nose, you panicked and dashed over to check the timer, only to discover you had set it for ten hours instead of one. How did you do that? The dish had been baking for about two hours. Is it possible to save it? No way, because the bottom of the oven pasta you cooked had turned black and crunchy. The front door flew open at precisely the right moment.

"People are such jerks," he screams, slamming his keys on the table and pausing for a moment to catch his breath and re-compose himself. Your fear grows as you realize he could turn on you.

"Welcome home," you say with your back to him, trying not to make any assumptions. People can be angry for a short period of time, right? Richard, apparently not. He takes his hands away from his face and asks

"Baby, what's the smell?"

"Oh, silly me just burned dinner. It's not a big problem. we can order takeout."

"Take out?! again?! Do you want me getting fat?! Get a life, I don't want to look like you." Angry, he says, hurting your feelings over again. You think you'd get used to this, but you really don't. Each time it feels like your heart gets ripped out over and over again and in your eyes, you gain five pounds each time too.

"Fine. What do you want?" You turn around, visibly irritated.

"I don't know! While men are at work, women are supposed to take care of dinner! Not burn it and starve me! "He says loudly, startling you and making you fear that there will be another fallout. Goosebumps rise on your skin as your eyes expand slightly in panic. You're not sure what came over you at the time, but something did, and you regret it deeply.

"that's it. Richard, I'm sick to death of you constantly making me feel like shit! You treat me as though I'm useless, and I hate it."

"Do I? yeah? Sounds familiar, right? kinda similar to how you treat yourself maybe?" He says this as he approaches your face, crouching down slightly to reach your level. That was an experience you'd never forget. Tears welled up in your eyes from anguish and hurt, but mostly from disbelief. You know what Richard is like, but you never expected him to go that far. But then again, with him, you never know.

"Are you fucking crying?! Are you fucking kidding me? Grown ass woman crying over the smallest thing. Woman, I'm just telling you the truth and if you can't handle that then you're weaker than I ever fucking thought" He continues to rant. You're trying to block out his snide remarks, but the next stage of Richard's meltdowns usually has you feeling sorry for him. You do your hardest not to listen in, but it's difficult with Richard because he's so loud. How come your neighbors haven't phoned 911 or even been over to see if we're all right every fucking night when the screaming starts? I'm at a loss for words, I haven't a clue.

"yeah, Dick, I have a reason to cry, like usual! You, the meanest fucker on the planet, are continuously hurting my feelings, dragging me down, and making me feel worthless. I'm done with this bullshit; I couldn't care less. Do whatever you want with me; I'm leaving." You vehemently exclaim. He hates it when you call him dick but it's the perfect time for it isn't it. You've tried to leave before, but he always finds a way to keep you or force you to return. You never left, whether it was 'weeping' or seducing you. Until Now. You dash to your room, grabbing your wallet, shoes, and jacket before pushing past Richard and racing out the door, ignoring his pleadings and begs.

You made it out of the building and onto the sidewalk without him chasing you down or shouting at you from his window to stay. You didn't know where to go. For the first time in your life, you were at a loss. You had no idea what to do next because it was incredibly late and you knew there would be no coffee shops open to let you camp there and to figure out your next move. Going to your family was out of the question because they were too far away and you also didn't want to bother them or them asking what was going on and why you were here. A thought occurred to you. Bruce. He is usually out at ungodly hours, but you couldn't risk it. But what other option did you have? You begin walking with only yourself and your thoughts, making your way to The all-too-familiar Wayne tower. Once you reach your destination through the dark streets and past the odd cat meowing at you, you take a deep breath and gather strength for the knock you'll make on the door a few moments after. The door swings open to Bruce in a hoodie, clearly already awake before your arrival.

"Y/n. what are you doing here? It's the middle of the night"

"i'm sorry" you squeak out and he instantly knows your sad.

" Come inside and get a blanket, the heater's not working so they're the only source of warmth I have right now" he says, his voice tired and gravelly.

Bruce couldnt piece together what it was but he knew you needed comforting. So that's what he's going to give you. He saw it was you standing infront of the door through the window so he did something rash and turned off the heater on the way to the door so it would give him an exuse to be closer to you in hopes of giving you some comfort without instantly hugging you like he wanted so desperately to do.

"Sorry for barging in this early in the morning" you squeak out still not having the energy to say anything louder.

"I enjoy your company at all hours, Y/n. It's actually perfect, I was up anyway and bored for something to do and you being here is the best thing for that" He tells you the truth somehow mysteriously knowing exactly what you needed to hear. Tears welled in your eyes at the comment and you couldn't help but let them form. Bruce saw this and immediately stepped forward to give you the most comforting hug possible, Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, you reciprocating the action around his waist while he places his chin on top of your hair nuzzling his nose into your locks letting you sob quietly for a few moments. Bruce slowly brings the two of you over to the couch sitting down where he was previously alone and tucks the blanket around you, taking the wallet and phone out of your hands and placing them on the coffee table before removing your jacket for added comfort. Moments more go by and his natural scent is slowly comforting you and calming you down. Bruce knew this too, so he slowly stopped planting gentle kisses to your head and moved his head back to see your puffy face.

"You wanna tell me what's up? Why your pretty face is stained with tears?" he enquires gently with a soft face filled with remorse.

"It's nothing I'm just being dramatic" you reply knowing already that he is going to say something your middle aged mom would say when your were younger.

"sweetheart, if it's bothering you that much then it's clearly not nothing. You can talk to me" he says as he starts rubbing circles on your upper arm with his thumb

"No, really it's ok I just had nowhere else to go"

"No where else to go? could you not go home to Richard?" he asks confused. A wave of panic washes over you when he asks this because you would have no reason not to go home usually. You stare at Bruce in thought for a few moments trying to come up with ideas for a lie, but nothing pops into mind.

"Y/n, Why couldn't you go back to Richard?" He says as his face drops in realisation. Notice how he didn't say 'home' he said 'back to Richard?'. I have no problem going home, as long as Richard isn't there.

"I...uhm...it's- it's complicated you wouldn't understand" you stall in thought

"oh, hon. I think I do" His eyes now glimmer with sadness. You shake your head in response not being able to form a sentence right now in fear you will fuel Bruce's theories that are completely correct. This is exactly why you didn't want to come here, Bruce would feel bad, hate Richard and possibly go after him. You hated putting this on Bruce but then again you had nobody or nowhere else to go. He grabs you and gently pulls you in cautious that you may not be up for any more physical touch.

"y/n, does Richard scare you?" he asks gently to which you nod your head hesitantly

"well, does he hurt you... mentally or physically?" he continues to which again you just nod.

"both?" he asks in disbelief. You shake your head and back away to look at his face

"no" you squeak out

"then, which one?" you can't even think about it any more so you just break down again feeling like you're annoying Bruce with this whole situation

"I need to hear you say it, sweets" he presses.

you explain with heaps of hesitation what was going on and Bruce's reaction to it all was the hardest part to endure. His lips turned downwards as his eyes started to fill with tears. He looked like a sad lost puppy. His dark eyebrows furrowing in sadness and confusion, him stopping drawing circles on your upward bent knee when he takes in a new piece of information that kept getting worse as the story went on. But overall Bruce listened the entire time comforting you but also not pressuring you to talk about it as he knows that you may not feel up to it right now. He seems to have restricted his physical touch on you because he's not sure if you're completely comfortable with it. He couldn't even imagine that someone would want to do something like that- especially to you! In Bruce's eyes you are the most perfect human being, inside and out. You're bubbly, kind personality boosting your physical appearance was the most comforting presence to him and seeing that all of that has been broken down by someone boils his blood, but most of all makes him feel endless amounts of pity towards you. When you are ending your paragraph, Bruce sees that you are fiddling with the seam of your hoodie sleeve while stalling and not telling him the next part straight away. He realises that this is something you want to keep to yourself for a bit so he respects that and interrupts your jumble of nonsense.

"you don't have to." he coos softly as his left hand that is draped over the back of the couch behind you plays with your hair lightly.

"You have no idea how sorry for you I am, petal. But I'm so so proud of you that you got away from him and told me about it, because that must have been so hard to do. It must have taken so much bravery that I know you have because you are one of the strongest people I know and I applaud you for that. Why didn't you come to me sooner?" you can hear his voice quivering in sadness although he tries to mask it for your sake.

"I don't want you feeling sorry for me, Bruce. But telling someone about a situation like this is unbelievably hard to do. And I thought maybe I was being overly sensitive about it and th-" Bruce had to take a second to process what you just said. He couldn't believe that you would even think that.

"Hey. No. You are not being sensitive about any of this. What you just told me showed how big of an asshole he is, you are definitely not being overdramatic. Why would you even think that?! And even if none of what you just told me was true --which it is-- you have a right to be sad, if he can't see that his behaviour is hurting you then that's enough." God, you were thankful you had someone as perfect as Bruce in your life. If you didn't you had no idea what you would do, you were unbelievably lucky to have him.

"I love you, Bruce, thank you for everything"

"I love you so much more. There's no need to be thankful, anybody would do this for their favourite person" he replies melting your heart for the one thousandth time.

"You can take my bed, I'll stay on the couch. Okay?" he inquires hearing your uneven, lazy breaths and seeing your yawns

"No, I couldn't ask you to do that. I'll go back home it's alright. He's probably asleep now" you try to reason but Bruce was not having it.

"No. That is not happening. I will go over tomorrow to get your stuff and you are going to stay here with me, you never have to see that bastard ever again. You hear me?" wow, he's perfect. You put on a thankful face and throw yourself forward for a hug which he instantly reciprocates and squeezed you slightly, kissing the top of your head.

"Promise me two things?" you ask in hope

"anything" he responds

"one. you don't beat him up when you go over tomorrow." you state which earns a heartfelt soft laugh from him. feeling his vibrations from the sound and the way his body moved when he let it out was one of the best feelings.

"no promises. He did make my heaven on earth feel miserable" he had to stop this or else you're going to fall in love with him....................

"I'm serious, Wayne. And second. You stay with me in your bed. I don't want to be alone. I already felt so alone before this so."

"of course, my love. anything for you." right there and then you felt safe. you knew everything would be ok and Bruce would be there for you no matter what happens like the god he is.

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

PT.2 here!

[sayruq]

Lmao I saw one of those weirdos compile a big list of “proof that Amb*r was the abuser this whole time” and it included stuff like:

-“She was upset and crying that he got out of control drunk and was rude to her friends, which ruined her birthday party. This is textbook emotional abuse.”

-Pictures from her Instagram of her kickboxing class, a very popular type of exercise class

-Jason Momoa making jokes about her character Mera being able to kick his ass, which apparently means Amb*r also abused him???

-Her sister said they used to roughhouse as kids, so she abused the sister as well

-“Here’s irrefutablee proof that bi whore was fucking the entire 2016 Dallas Cowboys and all the cheerleaders too because she tweeted a selfie with some of the players”

-talking about burning your wife Alive and raping her corpse, and calling your wife and her friends actual slurs is totally fine, but calling an abuse rep alcoholic has-been a “fat old loser” is emotional abuse

-“She have a polite smile to the judge when she walked in, this is proof she’s lying because she wouldn’t be capable of smiling if she really was traumatized. I know this because I got my PhD in body language studies five minutes ago.”

I’m going to start biting people I stg.

its actually insane. i saw a long thread of how she's supposedly acting to cover up her tracks and one of the videos was amber briefly smiling while someone handed her something. there was a viral tweet about how she was looking at her nails while depp's therapist talks about diagnosing amber with bpd. i would have done worse if someone diagnosed me with an illness before they even met me after being hired by my abusive ex-husband.

everything she does is twisted to prove that she's this evil monster from the suits she wears to putting on glasses at the same time at depp because they were both looking evidence. its completely unhinged. even outspoken feminists are steering clear which is so disappointing. this case is more important than people realise. he is suing her for defamation in an op-ed that doesn't mention him. amber being punished for merely alluding it's startingto him. if this becomes precedent (and it's start to look that way with his bff marilyn manson suing evan rachel wood) victims can't even talk about their experiences vaguely without backlash.

we're literally watching all the progress we made in terms of abuse survivors being rolled back. i didn't realise it until i saw a big make up brand joining in. mind you johnny depp has lost 2 court cases, he is being sued by a crew member, his decades of violent outbursts are public, and yet the milano still joined in the witch hunt as if they knew they wouldn't receive blowback from the public.

i tried to console myself by thinking about how de*p's people use bot farms and that if people truly genuinely cared about him he wouldn't have been in one flop after another. but the truth is a lot of people hate women and this gives them the perfect chance to attack abuse victims and ensure that every woman who steps forwards is guaranteed to get witch hunted. no wonder marilyn manson has began using the same technique.

[slasherhaven]

Hello it’s me again could you please do Jesse Cromeans x single mother with a child whose deaf and the father of the child is abusive and trying to make the reader’s life horrible then Jesse crimes to the rescue lol hope it’s not too bothersome or confusing

-🖤

Warnings: abusive past relationship

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) X Single Mother with a Deaf Child and Abusive Partner:

You had been working for Jesse’s organisation for a little while but he never really noticed you, since you didn’t work that close to him.

His assistant had been off sick for about a week, and you had been assigned to take over her role until she got back.

That was the first time he truly took notice of you, instantly becoming a little intrigued.

He recognised the signs soon after. The way you acted around him and others despite nobody giving you any direct reason to fear them. How you apologised too quickly, worried about messing up, how quiet you were. You were good at your job, though.

When you had first headed to his office, to introduce yourself and explain you would be his assistant for a little while, he had gone to communicate through text to speech. You were quick to assure him that you understood sign language if he preferred to use that, your hands moving along with your words as if to prove it. 

It had made him smile. 

Placing down his phone, he used his hands to ask how you knew sign language.

“My son in deaf, sir” you explained with a small smile.

A son? Jesse knew he hadn’t spotted a ring on your hand, so you mustn’t have been married.

Over the week you spend together, he quickly learnt how to act around you. How to keep his distance as to not intimidate you, how to alert you to his presence so not to scare you.

But you quickly became comfortable around him. You knew he was a dangerous man but he had never been anything but kind to you.

Eventually you wondered when his usual assistant would be returning, only for him to tell you that you would be taking on the position permanently. A part of you wanted to argue, to ask more about the woman who’s job you were taking, but the pay raise just couldn’t be overlooked. Not when you had a son to think about.

So, you took to your new role easily. You worked closely to Jesse, the two of you hitting it off with a surprising ease. Perhaps it was because you could communicate so easily? He found talking to you less bothersome? You weren’t sure, but you enjoyed his company.

Normally you would greet him with a smile, two coffees in your hand. This morning was a little different.

When Jesse got to the office, his coffee was already sitting on his desk. Still warm. He found you at your desk, hanging your head, hair forming curtains around your face, scribbling something down.

He approached your desk with purposeful footsteps. He knew that you had heard him but you didn’t look up. 

He used the text to speech to say you name. You pause for a moment before looking up at him. 

Even through the make-up you had applied, he could see the bruise that had formed along your cheek. You knew he had seen it, you saw the anger in his eyes and how his shoulders tensed.

“What happened?” he asked simply, getting no response. “Come into my office” some people found it difficult to decipher tone in sign language but you had become an expert, his body language was tense but you knew the order held some gentleness.

You followed him to his office, he closed the door behind you both before guiding you over to his desk. You sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk, and he sat in the other, not putting the desk between the two of you.

He once again asked what happened, who had hurt you.

You had been working with him for a while now, months, and you had noticed how much safer you felt with him. You could smile and laugh without a care when you were with him, you had fallen asleep in his office once while working on some paperwork with him, and you had woken up to a blanket draped over you.

He had even met your son once. It was after work hours, he had called you asking for a file that he couldn’t find. When you realised you had accidently taken it home with you, you offered to bring it in. He hadn’t expected to see you step into the office with a young boy trailing behind you. You handed him the file and he thanked you for it before looking down at your son. He seemed a little timid, standing just behind you cautiously. 

From what Jesse had assumed, the boy didn’t have great male role models in his life and he knew he was an intimidating man anyway. You couldn’t help but smile when Jesse gave your son a small wave, which he politely returned. But when Jessed signed “what’s your name?” your son’s face lit up in a smile before telling him his name. Jesse also introduced himself. 

All of that just to say that you felt that you could trust him.

So, you told him everything. How you had broken up with your boyfriend, your son’s father, a long time ago because of how abusive he could be, you didn’t want your child to be put through that. How, for a while, the father stayed out of your life, seemingly disappearing. How he recently started calling and showing up at your door, demanding to be a part of your son’s life. How he had harshly slapped you for denying him access to your home only the night before.

You weren’t sure when you started crying, but you weren’t surprised that you had. Jesse moved out of his chair, kneeling down in front of you as you lifted your head to look at him.

“Is he still bothering you?” you nodded. “Has he called you today?” you told him that he had been blowing up your phone so you blocked the number but that wouldn��t stop him from coming to your home again. “Are you sure you’re safe at home?” he asked and you paused before giving him an unconvincing nod.

Of course you weren’t safe at home, but you didn’t want to burden Jesse, your boss, with your personal life.

But he knew you were lying, and he wasn’t about to send you back home to deal with him. 

“You can stay with me for a while” he offered as he stood up, your eyes widening as you looked up at him.

“No, I can’t do that. I’m fine really” you didn’t want to be any trouble, even if his offer was very tempting. You would be safe, your ex would never guess you were staying there.

You argued and protested some more but Jesse kept insisting, and you eventually gave in. The offer was generous.

He let you use his bathroom to wash your face and clean up in. The two of you finished work early that day and, since you usually take public transport to work, Jesse opened his car door for you.

He took you to your home, where you packed two bags. One for you and once for your son.

He then took you to pick your son up from school once the school day was finished. Your son seemed excited to see Jesse again, running up and hugging you hello before signing his greeting to the well dressed man beside you.

“We’re going to stay with Jesse for a little while” you knelt down to your son’s height, a little surprised but glad to see his bright smile.

Jesse also smiled, this being one of the few times you had called him ‘Jesse’ despite how many times he had told you to do so.

Jesse’s home is grand and modern and impressive, it managed to stun you a little. But your son was nearly jumping up and down with excitement.

“Do I get my own room?” your son signed up to you. You looked to Jesse for an answer, and he nodded.

Jesse didn’t have a kid’s room in his home but he did have some guest rooms, one of which he gave to your son. “It’s the biggest room” he had told the young boy, making his smile grow even more.

That night, your son went to bed with ease, having worn himself out, and you returned to the lounge where Jesse was sitting with a drink.

“Thank you, Jesse. You really didn’t need to do all of this, it’s very generous” you sat down beside him.

He told you that he considered you to be a friend, that he refused to sit by and let your ex harass you. He wanted to look out for you and your son, you were his assistant after all.

For a while everything was going well. You and your son were still staying with Jesse, the three of you getting along well and adjusting easily to your new living situation. 

Jesse found that he enjoyed having you both there. He was aware that he had developed some feelings for you and was fond of your son, so he really didn’t mind you staying with him. In a way, he was getting what he wanted.

Things got a little worse when you went to pick your son up from school one day, finding your ex waiting for you both. You had instantly called Jesse, waiting by the school for him to arrive so that your ex couldn’t bother you too much, it was too public.

When Jesse’s car pulled up in front of you, your ex was talking to you. Your son clinging to your hand, both of you clearly afraid.

As soon as your son saw Jesse stepping out of the car, his face lit up. He released your hand and ran over to the man, who gently guided the child to stand behind him. Jesse’s stance protective.

“Are you ready to go?” Jesse signed and you nodded, quickly walking over to him. 

Of course, your ex had never bothered to learn sign language, so he didn’t understand any of it. He was quick to start snapping at Jesse, asking who he was and to leave you all alone, to mind his business, he was just trying to talk to his son. Your ex has always been foolish and hot-headed, trying to pick a fight with a man so much larger than him.

As your ex got closer, Jesse placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back harshly. He looked over his shoulder and nodded at you, you quickly ushered your son into the car, getting in with him. Using the text to speech on his phone, Jesse threatened your ex. You couldn’t hear, you could only see that he was using the device, but he was threatening your ex to stay away from you and your son.

Your ex backed off and Jesse got into the car, driving the three of you home where you could comfort your son and he could comfort you.

It wasn’t too long after that when Jesse went on his first business trip since you started living with him. It felt strange to be living in his home without him but it had started to feel like your own home. Jesse made sure the two of you stayed in touch, talking everyday.

He returned home after about two weeks. As soon as he stepped through the door, your son had run up to him with a huge smile to greet him with a hug. The two had become close. Your heart warmed when Jesse lifted the young boy up into an embrace, flashing you a proud smile as he kicked the door shut behind him. 

So domestic, how a child should react to his father returning after two weeks away.

That night your son had asked if he could stay up late because Jesse was home, you couldn’t convince him to go to bed, but Jesse convinced him by promising to do something special on the weekend. It had you smiling again.

You and Jesse did stay up a little longer that night, talking and catching up. He asked if your ex had given you any trouble, you told him that he hadn’t. What you didn’t know was that your ex would never be bothering you again, Jesse had made sure of it.

That night you confessed that you had missed him, that your son had as well, and Jesse confessed that he had missed the two of you too.

That night was the night that Jesse finally kissed you, finally feeling that you had become comfortable enough around him, that you returned his feelings and didn’t think you owed him anything for his help. And you had returned the kiss instantly, glad that he finally made the move.

Jesse had already proven to be the best partner you had ever had, the best father figure that your son had ever had, and he seemed to want to be those things. You truly believed that the three of you could make this work, that this could be good for all three of you. 

You had fallen hard for Jesse and as he pulled you closer to him on the couch, deepening the kiss, you were sure that you had never felt this way about somebody before.

[moonctzeny]

The Lovers

pairing: art student!taeyong x fem!reader

genre: smut, angst

word count: 6k

other members as background characters: mainly johnny, doyoung

warnings: unprotected sex, abuse of alcohol, smoking, reader has an abusive ex, public fingering, mentions of high school bullying

summary: “Taeyong isn't a fan of surrealism. When he decided to enroll into art school he did it for his love of Renaissance, Baroque, the obvious and undeniable beauty of Rococo. He liked the simple things and led a simple life, until he met you; the obvious beauty of a classmate you were that would make him feel more things than what he thought was humanely possible. When you're grouped together in a project dedicated to the works of René Magritte, Taeyong will come to the realization that life immitates art, and life is anything but the preconditioned perceptions of reality he's used to.”

a/n: this is my entry for Gallery Taeyong collab! Happy belated birthday bubu 🥺 This fic was inspired by the works of surrealist painter René Magritte and specifically The Lovers II. I’ve loved his works for a long time so this was very creatively pleasant for me!

tagging: @alreadyblondenow , @sirrenjun , @markresonates

——————————————————

PART I - THE FALSE MIRROR

He wouldn’t be so grumpy if he had to take the class for any other art movement.

Taeyong could get lost for days in a mural of the Renaissance, calculating all the different ways the painter managed to achieve total geometric symmetry. He would look at every individual figure, study their body language, their unique expression; discover all the little ways they contributed to the larger masterpiece. It comforted him when he found himself lost amongst the big crowds of students at the art school he attended. Even if he wasn’t the most interesting or gifted one, even in the total black look he sported with only his customized vans giving away his major, maybe he also contributed in his own way to the mural called life.

And sure, he knew why he had to take that class. As frustrating as it is to him, Surrealism is a huge movement that impacted generations of artists, and not learning about it as a painting major would sound criminal to most. He could maybe put up with the mandatory assignment if he had to analyze Dali’s work. Taeyong could at least recognize the talent needed to make those microscopic paintings that were interesting enough to look at. He even got one of those melting clocks as a ‘house (dorm) warming’ gift from his best friend, Doyoung, hanging strangely between the cracks of one of his walls.

Taeyong loved art because it overrated people. Through the strokes of an artist’s brush, he could discover layers of the human psyche; layers that he just couldn’t see in real life. If anything, Taeyong thought he could read people at first sight pretty well. The girl who sometimes talked to him in sculpture class, with the pink hair and baby bangs, has daddy issues. The tall lanky dude that winks at him at the cafeteria, covered in rings and chains and fancy piercings, probably cries himself to sleep. Taeyong, who was bullied again and again throughout his high school years for being different, fades in the background of someone else’s story, making sure that all the shades of black he’s wearing match each other.

The constant rating and assessment of other people exhausted him, but he just couldn’t help it. In the sacredness of his dorm, with no faces to shield away from in fear of getting judged, he could finally be himself.

Unwinding after a long and uneventful day, Taeyong enjoys the smoke that makes his mind a little too foggy to think anymore. The smell sticks on his clothes, the leaves of his indoor plants, it fits itself between those wall cracks. He almost dozes off in the tranquility, sprawled out on his messy sheets, when his phone’s buzz jolts him awake.

Unknown number

hey, we got partnered up together for surrealism class, your friend Ten gave me your number

the professor assigned us Rene Magritte

want to meet up so we can start with the assignment?

Taeyong might have skipped the first class of Surrealism 101. Blame it on being a good friend, or his inability to handle alcohol, let alone whiskey. Being a Philosophy major wasn’t easy for one’s sanity, and Doyoung went on a serious existential crisis last night. Not to mention, the nonsensical nature of Surrealism sure doesn’t go well with a bad hangover. Damn Plato.

me

uhh yeah sorry for being mia yesterday

you can come over to my dorm this evening if you want

Unknown number

give me your location, I’ll be there at 8

I’m y/n btw

The knock on his door came twenty minutes past eight. Taeyong quickly puts out the cigarette that was busying his lips, already missing the bitter taste of smoke when he gets to the door.

“You must be Taeyong. I’m y/n.”

Beautiful. That is the first word that pops into his head when he lays his eyes on you.

Taeyong had never seen someone that quite looks like you. From your eyes, to your lips, to the proportions of your body. You were wearing a simple summer dress, one that was maybe too light for the chilly autumn weather but pretty nonetheless. It seemed like angels had descended from heaven, leading you into his arms with their serene singing; he could hear it clearly in his head.

He lets you in his dorm politely, catching a whiff of your cologne that has him hooked already. His fingers are itching to grab a medium, any medium- charcoal, watercolor, oil paints and immortalize you, in fear that you might vanish suddenly, slip from his line of sight.

He still hasn’t muttered a single word, he realizes when he sees the indexes of the melting clock moving steadily, reminding him that time still does go by. The small couch that he barely managed to fit in the entrance area of his dorm struggles to fit you both, the proximity making him dizzy. You’d be the one to break the silence.

“So, do you like Surrealism?”

“Not really”

Taken aback by his statement, you turn your body sideways to face him, at least as much as the limited space allows you to. You could start off with something lighter, like “I like your place” or “How did you meet Ten?”, yet you hated small talk.

“How come?”

“It’s just… a mess. It makes no sense. Most of the art isn’t even nice to look at. You have to search and search for some kind of meaning, only to be left even more confused.”

“Don’t you think that looking for meaning in a surrealistic painting negates the whole point of the movement itself?”

“But there must be a meaning. Even if the artists are painting from their subconscious, they are pulling something out of the deepest recesses of their minds. Surely it means something.”

“Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t. Do you like making sense out of people, Taeyong?”

“People are pretty similar. They act in certain behavioral patterns. They reflect whatever it is they are feeling inside on the surface.”

“And what sense do you make of me?”

Taeyong gets startled by the question. Surely he has an answer, calculating people was sort of like his hobby, yet he doesn’t know how candid he can be with someone he just met. He takes the matted-down cigarette he put out earlier and places it between his lips, lighting it again.

“You dress neatly. You’re pretty, and not afraid to show it. If I can read through that nice manicure correctly, I’d say you grew up with French and piano tutoring. You’re close with your mom and want to be like her. A good girl.”

Your sardonic smile is visible even through the thick smoke. You seem to mutter something that Taeyong’s ears can’t quite catch, before taking out a piece of paper with a painting printed on it.

“The False Mirror, 1928. It’s the first piece we have to analyze.”

Taeyong takes the print from your hands carefully, squinting his eyes as they scan through its entirety. It’s an eye, not very realistically depicted, with a circular sky placed inside the otherwise ordinary oculus.

“An eye”, he states matter-of-factly, and you scoot right next to him on the couch.

“Yes, without the face. Out of its usual context.”

“So you’re saying that the artist purposefully makes a bizarre combination to stimulate the viewer?”

“Not just to stimulate, but to force them to raise a question.”

“The eyes are the mirror to the soul?”

“A parody of that, yes. Magritte said that the function of painting is to make poetry visible, after all.”

Taeyong stares at the piece some more as he finishes his cigarette, and it makes him feel more uneasy with every second that passes by. Is the sky a reflection of what the eye is seeing? The lack of detail in the artistry makes it hard to tell.

“It almost seems like it’s an opening to a new reality.”

“It’s an invitation to see the world differently. Not everything is as it seems.”

The last comment feels like a jab at your conversation earlier, and it makes Taeyong leave the painting on the table finally. It all seems ugly and weird and the piece is making him upset by forcing him to look past the obvious that he loves so much.

“You seem really good at this”, he says and lets some of the ashes smoke out the white, fluffy clouds, “I’m not worried about the assignment at all. I can send you a small analysis tomorrow and we can combine it with yours-”

“Is this your way of nicely kicking me out of your dorm?”, you joke and Taeyong panics, moving his hands frantically over his face. Your presence was more than welcome, even if you did make him a little nervous. He wasn’t used to such beauty being so close to him, alive, breathing. As he sees you smile back at him brightly, he thinks that life truly imitates art.

“No, not at all! You can stay as long as you want! I can order pizza and you can tell me more about yourself.”

“Hmmm. I have a better idea.”

Taeyong doesn’t know how he ended up with you at a stranger’s house party, nor exactly how you convinced him to tag along. He follows you inside the stuffy apartment, the led lights and loud music already giving him a headache. The sweat of the people dancing is dripping from the ceiling, making him even more claustrophobic, clinging onto you.

You pour him a drink and Taeyong reluctantly accepts it, well aware of how strong it is for him. He takes a small sip while you down your whole glass in one shot, making his eyes bulge out of his head in shock. He tries to make small talk, ask you about the party thrower and advise you to slow down, yet your attention is fixated on a group of loud men.

“Be right back”, you tell him as you excuse yourself, and he watches as you tackle the tallest of them all in a big hug.

You scream his name and look up at him dearly, and Taeyong can already tell that you and ‘Johnny’ are more than just friends. He notices how you try to make yourself bigger in front of him, how nervous you seem as you initiate conversation. He can also notice how much more interested you seem in him than he does in you.

Taeyong feels as if he’s probing at something he shouldn’t, so he turns around and gulps the rest of his drink with difficulty. Defeated and with a hint of sadness coating your eyes you return to the kitchen and pour yourself another drink, stronger this time.

He asks you questions about your interests to distract you, maybe even calm you down. While the alcohol confuses you both and the loud music muffles a lot of the words together, Taeyong manages to learn a lot about you. You started painting as a means of escape, surrealism and gore being your favorite. Carbonated drinks give you the hiccups and you unironically like the most pretentious of indie bands. You have a tattoo of your first pet on your left buttcheek that you will never let your parents know about. Your smile has the ability to raise his heart rate in a split second.

Taeyong stays silent as you empty the glass once more, but he has to interrupt when you try to drink straight from the bottle. You hop on the counter so that he’s sat between your thighs, whining as he takes it out of your hands. The extra sips you stole made you just as tipsy as him and you ground yourself with the feeling of his palms on your thighs.

“You shouldn’t drink so much”, he slurs and squeezes the muscles a little, the fabric of your dress, making his fingers run effortlessly over them. You love the attention.

Your own fingers weave through his locks, tugging them a little so that you pump out even more attention from him. He looks so pretty looking up at you like that, blown-out pupils taking everything in and waiting for your next move.

“Let’s do something else then.”

You seal the proposal with a kiss, tasting the alcohol on Taeyong’s soft lips. He kisses you back feverishly after he’s over the initial shock, his brain unable to realize if this moment he shares with the pretty girl that visited his dorm earlier this evening is real or not. Soon his tongue disappears inside your mouth, running over your teeth and playing with you further.

You guide his hands under your skirt as he breaks the skin of your neck with his teeth, and a single finger over your panties makes a shiver go down your spine. He toys with the hem some more, slowly feeling the fabric dampen but never taking it further.

“I want your fingers inside me”, you plead in his ears, your voice airy and breaking with desperation.

“There are people around”

“No one gives a fuck. I need you.”

Taeyong hisses in an inner battle with his self-control, yet your glossy doe eyes take the win. He pushes your panties to the side carefully, moving even closer between your legs to hide the sinful act as much as he can. His body feels hot against you and when he dips his middle finger inside you have to grip onto his shoulders so that you don’t dissolve in the feeling.

“Faster”, you beg and he inserts his index as well, painting a pearly purple love bite over your collarbones. With every drag of his fingertips against your walls, he drags a moan out of your lips as well, the pretty sound getting buried in the deep bass of the loud music.

Just as he feels you falling over the edge, searching your face for the lewd expressions of orgasmic pleasure, he realizes that your eyes are glued provocatively onto another man.

PART II - EMPIRE OF LIGHT

It’d been exactly 33 hours since the last time he saw you. You were both stumbling outside of the house party, drunk and disoriented and with the taste of your orgasm still on your tongues, yet Taeyong somehow managed to call you a cab. He remembers being pissed off and confused over your behavior, refusing your advances and your proposal to follow you home.

You texted him later that next day, thanking him for taking care of you and asking him to meet up for your project. You didn’t mention your moment of intimacy, nor Johnny, neither did you apologize for that night. Taeyong agreed and offered his place once again for your rendezvous. The indexes of the melting clock taunt his anxiety as he waits for you to arrive.

The knock on his door came 20 minutes late again, and Taeyong writes it down as another one of your habits. Your eyes look tired and your skin looks dull, yet you’re still styled in a neat and pretty outfit. It was weird seeing you in the light of day, without being surrounded by the darkness that fits you so well. All the flaws that Taeyong could see in you in the morning were humanizing while simultaneously showing him just how different you are compared to him.

You walk in confidently, almost as if you own the place, and throw your body onto his couch. Taeyong chuckles incredulously, joining you after he lights a new cigarette. You take out another print from your bag and he hears the faint clanging of glass bottles as you do.

The painting looks a little more artistically pleasing this time, yet there’s something that still gives off an unsettling feeling. After his eyes get used to the high contrasts, he notices that the nocturnal street scene is set against a light-drenched morning sky. One of the most fundamental premises of life is being messed with, and light, while usually something that’s a source of clarity, causes him confusion and uneasiness.

“Empire of Light, 1950”, you start explaining, fanning out the smoke with your hands when it reaches you, “Magritte painted this scene numerous times. It’s a paradoxical combination of day and night. The conception of a picture, that is, the idea, is not visible in the picture: an idea cannot be seen with the eyes. What is represented in a picture is what is visible to the eyes, it is the thing or things that must have been ideated. The landscape evokes night and the sky evokes day. He called this power: poetry.”

Taeyong blows his smoke on the house depicted, as if the landlady would open one of the small windows and tell him off, providing another small light source in the painting.

“A paradox”, he repeats, toying the sour word with his tongue and mixing it with the bitterness of the tobacco, “Like the paradox of a girl with pretty dresses that’s addicted to alcohol.”

You realize he’s talking about you yet you decide to play dumb, hiding in the silence of the room. And Taeyong lets you hide but only for a few seconds, before he grabs the alcohol bottles from your bag and places them over the painting. One of them, a digestif, gets stuck on the paper, adding a caramel-colored ring over the light-blue sky.

“I like to drink. So what?”

“You have a problem. Who the fuck carries three half-empty bottles of booze in their school bag?”

“You don’t know when I drunk them”

“You reek of liquor”

His stare is unnerving, shoving you into an imaginary corner and casting an interrogation beacon on you. With trembling hands and heated cheeks, you grab a pack of gums from the jean jacket you brought along and start to chew aggressively. There’s a caretaker value in him that makes your stomach warm and your head foggy at the same time.

“Says the guy with the lung cancer between his lips. Since you like playing therapist so much then you’d know that we all have our coping mechanisms. We all have that something or someone to use that makes us feel better.”

Something in Taeyong shifts after what you said, evident in the way his jaw tightens.

“Is it because of this Johnny guy? You can tell me you know, I’m no therapist but I’m your friend.”

You scoff, giving him a once over. “A friend? Is that what you call everyone you finger fuck in a room full of people?”

You try your hardest to hold back your laughter at Taeyong’s reddening cheeks as he notices the healing hickeys he’s left on you. His intentions are clear and they seem as pure as they can be, so you pace around the room a little to organize your thoughts.

“It’s not because of Johnny. It’s because of my ex. He was the type of guy that can take you to heaven and then drag you to hell in the same breath. When someone you love tells you daily just how worthless you are the insult ends up staying inside your skull for longer than bearable.”

You get dizzy from the circles you paced so you sit down on his desk chair this time. The rolling motion comforts you a little so you find the courage to spill more of your heart out.

“The booze makes the voice shut up. Sex helps too. Johnny is just a fuck buddy of mine. He has his eyes.”

Taeyong gulps dryly at your confessions but listens carefully nonetheless. There is a weight in his chest and an itch over the fingers that he used that night.

“So I was a distraction too?”

“I’m sorry if you feel used, but aren’t all hookups a distraction if you think about it? Besides, it was good. The finger fucking, I mean. I don’t regret it.”

Taeyong weighed all the possible responses to your compliment, but he soon concluded that avoiding them all would be best.

“I’m sorry this happened to you, no one deserves this. But this coping mechanism is going to ruin you.”

“I know. And I know that you deserve better than whatever mess I am. Sorry for dragging you into this.”

“You didn’t force me into anything, don’t worry. I am a little guilty of indulging as well.”

You take a minute to take him all in, and you almost lose him in his all-black attire. Some of his works that you hadn’t noticed last time are hanging from the walls. It’s mostly beautiful women, surrounded by lines and shapes in bright colors. The intensity and liveliness of the paintings surprise you, so very different than the man who’s sitting in front of you.

“Enough about me. What is it with you? Besides our friend Ten, you seem to be like a ghost to everyone else.”

“I like blending in, sticking out is uncomfortable.”

“Is that why you dress like a watered-down Hot Topic employee?”

“Being invisible isn’t such a bad thing.”

“Yeah. Maybe I should try that. You know, sometimes, I like to hang around the train station for hours. I daydream of packing my necessities and leaving this place forever. Start a new life with a new name, a new life that is not as cursed as this one is. I don’t even know what’s stopping me from leaving everything I am behind.”

You watch curiously as Taeyong gets up from the couch and walks slowly up to you. You think he’ll probably ask you to leave, or tell you to at least get up from his comfortable chair you’re occupying, yet you still in shock when he wraps his arms around you. He smells nice, very sweet, and homey, just like his embrace. It’s been years since the last time you felt so light.

“No. You’re meant to be here.”, he murmurs through your hair, “You’re meant to be seen. You’re full of color.”

“Like the women in your paintings?”

Taeyong hums affirmatively, the vibration relaxing you even more. “You’re the type of person artists make whole oeuvres about.”

You continue working on the project pleasantly, and your little team is starting to gel. You guide Taeyong with your valuable knowledge on surrealism, and in return he lets you play your pretentious indie bands as background noise. You love how kind and understanding he is, and you admire his effortless leadership skills. He’s been glued next to your leg the entire time, looking up at you from his seat on the floor. And when he rests his head on your thigh and you pet his hair until he purrs, you both telepathically agree not to comment on it.

It’s getting late and Taeyong’s walking you out of his dorm, his jacket hanging from your shoulders since the sun is down by now. You can feel the anxiety oozing from his body.

“So, ummm. I was wondering if you’d ummm, like to go out somewhere tomorrow.”

“Lee Taeyong, are you asking me out on a date?”

“No no! I mean, I just want to hang out with you. Unless you want it to be a date. Then I’m completely fine with that.”

You giggle at his rambling, high on the warmth of his clothes that remind you of his embrace earlier.

“There’s an art exhibition downtown. We can go check it out if you want.”

“I’d love that.”

You peck his cheek sweetly before leaving, and the contact of your lips against his skin will burn him for the rest of the night. You don’t even notice that you forgot the bottles of alcohol at his apartment.

PART III - THE LOVERS

For your gallery date, you were early for the first time. Drenched in a healthy glow, with crystal eyes and the brightest smile. How could anyone expect Taeyong to pay attention to the art pieces when you were standing right next to him? The whole time you were silently appreciating the artwork, he had his own studying to do as well. His talent in reading people would find a creative purpose for the first time as he thought of what earthy tones and stroke techniques would best depict you on paper. You always seemed too much for him to paint, too complex and deep and beautiful for his level of artistry.

If you noticed his staring, you didn’t say a thing, but when he decided to intertwine his fingers with yours, your palm sweated a little. He thought your hand was made for his, with how perfectly it fit inside it, and Taeyong wished he could cling onto the feeling forever. He walked you home like the gentleman he is, but not before he treated you with your favorite ice cream as you talked about art for hours. He didn’t make a move to kiss you, nor did you suggest to lead him inside your place and then inside you.

When you asked him how come he hadn’t lit a cigarette the entire night, he simply told you he quit. Tobacco tastes so bland compared to the smell of your perfume without the hints of alcohol.

And that’s how the rest of the week flew by, meeting every day and spending most of their duration together. You’d study for your project, or watch movies, or cuddle in between those two. An undisclosed desire was dripping from your lips, yet what you have is too delicate to be recklessly disrupted, so you toy between the lines of platonic love. A hug that lingers for too long, a growing hard-on hiding under thick jeans, curious fingers that dance too close to the top of your thighs.

Tonight, Taeyong is waiting for your study date at his dorm, as always. He still hasn’t realized how late it’s gotten, lost between the painting materials that are scattered across the floor. Prussian blues, bright reds, and cad yellows. He jumps when he hears you knocking, startled by the sudden noise and his own excitement.

You appear in another one of your dresses, a red one this time, topped with his jacket that’s now a wardrobe staple for you. Taeyong thinks you look pretty as ever because tonight, you look his.

Peeking over his shoulder, you notice his half-finished work, and you’re immediately enamored with the plethora of colors that seem to reel you in. In the middle of the canvas, you see a woman that resembles you in the most flattering way possible. She’s you but more interesting, more caring, brighter, kinder. It’s an image of you, an impression of you. It’s how Taeyong chooses to see you.

You don’t even tell him hi as you walk through his doorstep, the electric look you share already saying it all. He leans over his door to lock it, just a deep breath away for your chests to meet, and the moment he’s turned the key for the last loop you’re pressed up against it. You know you’re too close when you can tell he smells like those cinnamon gums you love so much, so you decide to have a taste.

Your teeth clash as your lips crash against his, and the hunger that you feel for him overwhelms you. The night you shared at that party couldn’t even compare to the way he kisses you now, so full of purpose that he almost scares you. He leads you blindly over the small couch, grunting as he falls on top of you, and you continue to nibble his pretty lips over and over again.

Time freezes when you’re one like that, lightheaded and moving your tongues to taste each other. Taeyong grinds against your clothes, making your abdomen feel like it’s on fire, and your mouth waters at the conceivable length. He pulls away for just a moment, raw in his messy hair and puffy lips. The hem of your dress curls into his fists, and you’re shocked at how it doesn’t rip from the force.

He does the same for your underwear, impatiently taking it off of you until you’re bear and wet underneath him. He pushes you higher up the cushions, throwing your legs over his shoulders when he’s fit himself semi-comfortably. The shaky breaths he leaves against your lower lips make your whole body tingle, and when he first licks your clit you swear you’re seeing stars. His tongue gets covered in your sweet taste, tirelessly sucking and kissing that one spot that makes your voice sing for him louder. You’re just so beautiful when you finally come against his mouth, covering his chin in your juices and shaking in pleasure.

As he waits for your body to cool off, spreading loving kisses around your navel, Taeyong notices the fingerprints of paint that he has left on your inner thighs. The mere sight of you marked by a color he made on his own fires up the embers in him again, and you urge him to take his clothes off in agreement.

The first thing you notice is the delicate tattoos that subtly decorate his body. They’re small but meaningful, just like himself, and the thought of kissing every single one of them turns into a challenge. The next thing that demands your attention is his angry member that is staring right back at you, a pretty pink in color and thick enough to make you scream.

You bring him closer by the back of his thighs, pulling him in until you’re level-headed with his hipbones. Your tongue teases his tip until the whole thing bounces against it uncontrollably, so you take him all in, in hopes of calming him down. He’s hard already, so hard in fact that you’re scared he’s going to come in a few minutes if you keep at it. You bob your head enthusiastically either way, locking your eyes with his seductively and moaning around his throbbing cock. The salty excitement tingles your taste buds and he pulls you away with a sob and a tug on your hair, his face all fucked out and sexy.

“I want to fuck you first.”

The dirtiness that contrasts him excites you, so you put on your most innocent expression as you open up your hole with your index and middle finger.

“Dive in”

And that’s exactly what Taeyong does, bottoming out inside your tight wetness that feels as heavenly as he’d ever dream of. His hands roam all over your body as he snaps his hips against you, feeling up the softness of your breasts and pressing down your carotid until you mewl for him. It drives him insane just how submissive you look for him so he picks up the pace, fucking into you so fiercely that you slip from the small furniture and pile up on top of him on the floor.

You both laugh blithely at the accident and continue making out on his rug, your bodies warmed up and ready to continue. You roll your way to the middle of the living room, where Taeyong was painting earlier, and he sits you up on all fours for him. Your hands get dirty with the acrylics but it doesn’t really matter when he starts fucking you again, successfully reaching the deepest spots of you. It gets too much as you’re sucking him in, and you reach for the canvas itself for some sort of stability. As your dirty palms drag down on the freshly dried-up painting, you realize that you and Taeyong are now part of the artwork. And he surely adds the finishing touch just seconds later when he pulls out of you, painting ropes of white over your back.

This is usually the point when you have to take your walk of shame, so staying in his arms to cuddle after he cleans you up is a pleasant first for you. He helps you up your wobbly legs and leads you to his more comfortable bed, where he offers you a glass of water and plants a kiss over the carpet burns. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep soundly next to you, leaving you in awe of his sleeping beauty.

Somewhere close to the entrance, the print of The Lovers that you were supposed to analyze still lays untouched. Two figures with their faces covered by a white, deathlike cloth that keeps them forever apart, unable to truly communicate or touch. A frustrated desire is depicted. To some, the inability to fully unveil the true nature of even our most intimate companions.

Your phone that is thrown lazily on top of Taeyong’s bedside table flashes in bright blue light.

Johnny

I miss you, wanna come over? I have whiskey.

PART V - TIME TRANSFIXED

The sweet memories of last night flood Taeyong’s mind before he even opens up his eyes. He smiles at the morning light that bounces off his skin, stretching his arms to pull you in his embrace, yet he’s met with the flat mattress instead. He looks for you in the room that seems too empty all of a sudden, when he hears the wrenching sound of someone getting sick in the bathroom.

You crawl out of it a minute later, disheveled and wearing a t-shirt that Taeyong doesn’t recognize as his own. You were in the middle of collecting your things from his apartment when he clears his throat loudly to catch your attention.

“Did you leave last night?”

He’s met with silence. Cold, guilty silence.

“Did you drink again?”

The birds that chirp outside in cruel contradiction seem to mock him, so he moves quickly to his closet, turning a pile of clothes upside down. He finally finds an old pack of Parliaments and he lights one up, waiting for any sort of honesty from you. Your eyes stay glued to the floor, the pounding headache not making anything easier for you.

“You went to Johnny’s didn’t you.”

“Why are you asking me questions you already know the answers to?”

It’s so hard to excuse you this time. So hard to see the bigger picture. Taeyong implodes within himself like a dying star, and the tears start streaming down his pretty face. The big emotions combined with the smoke make a sob get caught in his throat, his hands pulling on the strands of hair that were previously flattened from sleep.

“Why? I thought you decided to quit. I thought we both made progress. I thought-”

“Well, you thought wrong Taeyong! People aren’t straight, symmetric lines and pretty shapes that you can place wherever you want on your canvas. They’re ugly, like cracking, bleeding paint, and I will never be the masterpiece you so badly want me to be.”

You grab your last belongings from his couch and charge towards the door, ignoring his calls of your name. The next Magritte painting Taeyong would have to see on his own.

He’s been staring at the print for about an hour now. You hadn’t contacted him for a day, and he was too proud to text you first. Your presence has become a routine, and for a moment he thinks that if he looks to his right you’d be right there, sprawled on the small couch.

The painting confuses him, as always, and with the loss of your guide he feels helpless against it. He waits for the clock on the top of the fireplace to come alive, and that is when Taeyong realizes that he’s stuck in a loop. In a life that he doesn’t have any reign over, in fear that its largeness will devour him whole.

He grabs his things like a maniac, leaves his place and gets on the first cab he sees. He screams at the driver to get to the train station quickly, a speeding ticket be damned. Strangers take weird looks at him as he hurries past them, most of them thinking that he’s late for a departure.

“Ladies and gentlemen. The train to ___ will depart in exactly one minute.”

You’re wearing the same dress you did when he saw you for the first time, entering the wagon with an overfilled suitcase. Taeyong shouts your name as if you’re the only person there because to him, you truly are. He doesn’t know when he started crying again, but the smile on your face when you see him makes his world colorful again.

You’re stepping out. There’s still hope.

[tangledbea]

Now one other question for ya...see I hear people claim that Stylan was an abusive girlfriend but that never made sense. Were her actions deplorable? Yes. But again I don't know if I'd say abusive is the right term. There's being a crap girlfriend and then there's being an abusive one. And to be fair? Eugene wasn't exactly the best boyfriend to her either. Far from abusive and definitely not the steryoptyical "bad boy boyfriend". I was wondering what you think.

I actually answered a question like this fairly recently, so I'll copy/paste my thoughts here:

[The claim] comes entirely from [Eugene and Stalyan's] interactions on-screen in “Beyond the Corona Walls.”

I mean, anyone would feel trepidation meeting their ex after a really bad break-up, right? But what’s the first thing she does? Smacks him upside the back of his head.

Then, through the rest of the episode she:

refuses to call him by the name he tells her to his face he wants to be called, telling him that it’s not his name

ignores his point of view

tells him they’re meant to be despite his protests that he’s in love with someone else

belittles him

says she knows what’s best for him and always has

admits to making him (her words) do things that he doesn’t want to do

And there is literally nothing that can convince me that forcing Eugene to marry her wasn’t, at least in part, her idea. She says that poisoning Lance was her dad’s idea, but makes no claims that forcing him to marry her didn’t come from her.

Also, Eugene’s body language when he’s talking to her, even his tone of voice, speaks of someone who’s used to being talked over and trampled down, someone who doesn’t expect to be heard but has to try anyway. When Eugene is happy, excited, confident, there’s a brassiness to his voice. But for the whole episode, his voice is breathy and subdued.

It’s not so much speculation as reading between the lines.