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kookoosbunnynose · 5 years ago

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Pairing -> Officer!Reader x BadBoy!Jungkook (ft. Reader x Yoongi)

Genre -> Angst | Smut | Fluff

Rating -> Mature (18+)

Word Count -> 14.5k

Playlist -> Looks Red, Tastes Blue

Summary -> You meet an old friend under uncomfortable circumstances, he brings with him memories you’ve tried to forget for years. Your past becomes your future before you can catch your breath.

Excerpt -> “But where the paradox lies is, if you stop thinking, the smile you hold when you’re with him is the simplest thing you’ve ever done.”

—————

“We have a 10-51 at The Red Eye on Main.” Your radio suddenly booms in your otherwise quiet vehicle, snapping you out of your trance-like state caused by watching a mostly empty intersection run through light cycles for the better part of an hour.

“10-4, I’m 76.” You answered, pausing briefly to assess your location in relation to the hole-in-the-wall bar. “10-77, three minutes.” You finish, setting down your mic and flipping your lights on.

When you first started this job, getting a call for a drunk and disorderly would send your heart into overdrive, cause your breathing to shallow and your hands to shake. Mind filling with possibilities of having to contain a violent man twice your size. But after learning the patterns of the locals in town, and learning your own capabilities, you barely batted an eye. You’d probably just have to give the crotchety town drunk a ride back home and scold him for making you do this for the upteenth time. No biggie.

You sped down the empty street with ease, you could drive this town with your eyes closed since you were fourteen. The street lights around you against the night sky making everything appear untouched and serene, only amplifying your obnoxious siren.

Three minutes, nearly on the dot, when you pull up to Red Eye, and much to your surprise you see a young man sitting on the curb with his forearms resting lazily on his knees waiting for your arrival. The less than impressed security guard stops glaring at him in favor of filling you in on what happened.

“Hi y/n.” the guard greets, making the man pick his head up to confirm his suspicions.

“Well, fancy seeing you on that side of the law.” He says making you take in a stiff breath at the familiar voice, one you haven’t heard in years.

“I could say the same to you, Mr. Jeon.” you say with a steady breath, being very well versed in not appearing as shaken as you are. And you are. But you fight the way your throat wants to close because you’re wearing your badge, and you’re not here to dive nose first into your past. You’re here to take statements and do an assload of paperwork.

“The kid has been pretty cooperative,” the guard continues when you turn your attention back towards him. “didn’t put up a fight when I escorted him out. He’s had one too many drinks and threw a punch at a guy, who has decided not to press charges. But I got his information before he left to tend to his busted lip, if you need to contact him.” he informs, handing you a napkin with the bar’s logo and shaky ink etched into it.

“Thank you, I’ll take him off your hands.” you say glancing at the man in question, he’s still watching you with the kind of smirk only alcohol can provide. “I’ll take him to the station to sober up and get his story.” he nods, stepping back but staying close just in case.

“Are you gonna get in the car quietly or do I have to use these?” you question, holding your cuffs up with a hooked finger.

“Don’t make me any promises you won’t keep, sweetheart.” he winks lamely. You roll your eyes, and open the back door of your car.

“Get in Jeon, I won’t ask twice.”

“Yes, ma’am.” he says, raising his hands in defense and standing to climb in your backseat.

You shut the door behind him and make your way around the vehicle, giving the guard a wave goodbye. If he had been anyone else making a remark like that would’ve landed them a pair of cuffs, but in all your years of knowing him, Jungkook has never given you a reason to feel unsafe with him.

He was pretty quiet on your drive back to the station allowing your mind to wander to the time you two last spoke.

That day the air was heavy and unforgiving on your lungs, that no matter how hard you tried never felt full. You were both dressed in black, heads hung low in mourning. Before you departed you gave each other a long hug, whispering ‘I’m sorry’s and sniffling together. Giving each other as much comfort as you could muster even though neither one of you believed it would be okay yourselves. The hug was meant to be one of condolence but shortly after you would come to learn that, unbeknownst to either of you, it was a goodbye as well.

You don’t know if it was because you were pulling up to the station or if it was because he could sense your thoughts but he decided to break the silence.

“The asshole had it coming.” He spoke bluntly, as you opened his door and walked him inside.

“What did he do that warranted a busted lip?” you asked, slightly exasperated but mostly curious.

“He was making a girl at the bar uncomfortable, she asked him to stop and he didn’t. I stepped in, he swung, I dodged, I clocked him in the mouth, and he fell down.” He recounted simply, almost bored. He hasn’t changed, still ready to throw a punch for anyone in need. Just like-

Your stern look softens. “Why didn’t you tell security he threw the first punch?”

“Would he have believed me? I’m sure I haven’t been gone long enough for half the town to forget my reputation.” He says sitting in the chair next to your desk and crossing his tattooed arms across his chest. Those are new. Well, most of them.

“I suppose not, but at least I could have it on record that you tried.”

“I told you, didn’t I?” he raises his brows.

“Yes, you did.” you relent, grabbing a breathalyzer from your drawer. “Blow.”

He takes the device from you and does as instructed, presumably choosing to keep some sexual comment to himself.

“A .05?” You blink. “I thought he said you drank too much.”

“Probably assumed since I decked a guy in a bar.” He shrugs.

“I suppose, but how annoying.” you say slightly bothered by the fact that he had to tell you everything, and security didn’t even bother to ask people who started it. He chuckles at you.

You start typing away on your report, his story, his blood alcohol level, etc.

“Do you wanna press charges? He did try to assault you.” you question, pausing your fingers.

“No, but I think that woman should.” you smile.

“Okay, I have all the info I need. You have two options.” you turn to him. “I can drive you home now, or I could get you some coffee and you wait here until you blow a .02 then I’ll take you back to your car.”

“I take option B.” he says, tapping the corner of your desk as if to lock in his answer. “I don’t want to have to go get it tomorrow.”

“I’ll go get your coffee.” you go to get the two of you some much needed liquid energy. Normally, you wouldn’t just leave someone who was brought in for assault without cuffing them to your desk or asking someone to watch them, but you know him, and normally people wouldn’t voluntarily choose to hang out in a police station for any longer than they needed to. Tonight is full of many things outside the norm.

As you sit back down back down with your drinks, Taehyung returns from patrol duty, and beelines for Seokjin’s desk.

“Tag you’re it.” he says, patting Jin’s back, making him flinch.

“Officer Kim, don’t sneak up on me.” He says puffing out his chest.

“My apologies, Officer Kim.” they laugh.

You miss the way Tae looks over at you, and his smile drops when he sees who is at your desk.

You and Jungkook sip your coffee with a comfortable silence, neither of you wanting or needing to address his long absence yet, not while you’re filling out a report with his name on it.

A couple hours pass like this, with you doing various paperwork, and him scrolling on his phone or staring into space. Yep, definitely hasn’t changed.

“Alright Jeon, once more.” you say handing him the breathalyzer again.

He does.

.01, good.

“Let’s get you to your car.” you stand, and walk out into the crisp dawn air.

The ride back doesn’t leave your mind swimming as much as the first time. There’s still a sizable elephant in the room, but the tension isn’t as unbearable as you’d imagined it would be.

You pull your car next to his, allowing him to return home. “Thank you.” He half smiles, unsure if he should say ‘see ya later’ or not, but you had a feeling you would soon. — You awoke later that same day, when the peachy light of the sunset was flowing through your windows. Your shift at the station usually ran from midnight to ten in the morning, meaning you usually slept through most of the day. Though you didn’t mind, you’ve always been a night owl, nothing a little vitamin D supplements can’t fix.

Groaning as you roll over in your mess of blankets to check your phone, you find exactly what you were expecting.

Jimin (7:48pm): In need of stress relief, Doll? ;)

You (8:13pm): God, yes. When you couldn’t meet up last week I thought I was gonna implode :(

Jimin (8:15pm): Aw, you missed me? Cute

You (8:16pm): Don’t flatter yourself Park. I missed your dick

Jimin (8:17pm): I’m hurt :(

You (8:19pm): I’ll be over in 40. Be ready, handsome ;)

Jimin (8:19pm): :)

You toss your phone on your bed and get up to take a shower, a little hop in your step at the prospect of receiving an orgasm by someone else’s hand. And Jimin always delivered.

You wash your hair quickly, more concerned about shaving your legs for the first time in two weeks. After you’ve dried off, you lotion and perfume like normal. You slip on a tank top and leggings, knowing that he is a big fan of your ass. You take your uniform with you as well so you can head straight to work after your weekly dick transaction.

When you’re making your short drive to Jimin’s you find your mind wandering to Jungkook. How your heart skipped a beat when you saw him sitting on that curb. How he’s lost all the baby fat he used to hold in his cheeks, but his eyes still crinkle when he smiles. How having him stand in front of you for the first time in five years confirmed your adolescence wasn’t in fact a pipe dream your mind had fabricated after you decided to change everything you could. How though he’s jaded and may not know it himself, he’s the same boy you’ve always known. And how he still reminded you of-

But now wasn’t time to dwell, you’ve done enough of that. Tonight is supposed to be about the exact opposite. Free of stress. Free of thoughts. Only a couple hours of animalistic need. Then you could go back to reality.

“Hello y/n.” Jimin greets with a smile after your knuckles rap against his door. “Do you wanna talk? Before we…”

“Not really.” you answer a little too fast, crossing the threshold of his apartment.

“Works for me.” he says, noticing that you’re seeking more of the benefits than the friends side of this deal.

Without another word his hands are on your hips and his lips are on your neck, walking you backwards until your back is flush with the door. Noticing that you’re not in the mood for as much foreplay as normal, he immediately grazes his teeth against that spot on your neck that makes you sigh into his ear.

He’s always been very good at reading you, perhaps that’s why you agreed to this little arrangement. You’re not sure exactly how the two of you ended up fucking in the first place. Definitely had something to do with your collective blood alcohol level at the time. But when all was said and done that first time he told you he’d be more than willing to make it a regular thing. To make your shoulders relax every so often and it’s not as if he didn’t get anything out of it. Neither of you were in the headspace for a relationship, so the easy access to orgasms, with no strings attached was ideal for all parties involved.

Not that you weren’t friends outside his bedroom as well. You guys would hangout pretty often just as friends. You were fortunate that the line between your regular dose of stress relief and the platonic love you had for one another never blurred. Jimin was special in that regard.

Your hands find the hem of his shirt and he takes the hint quickly pulling it over his head. You do the same, and his hands eagerly cup your breasts. He reattaches his lips to the sweet spot on your neck biting down harder this time causing a small whine to fall from your lips. He smirks against your skin and runs his tongue along your reddened skin to sooth it.

Not wanting to waste anymore time than necessary you grab his hand and walk him to his bedroom. Once inside you put your hands on his chest and give him a firm push until his knees meet the edge of his mattress and he falls against it with a small bounce. When he falls back you remove your leggings and underwear, he does the same matching your urgency.

You climb over him planting your knees on either side of his hips, grinding your increasingly wet slit up his stiff length.

“You got hard pretty fast.” you say breath tickling his cheek and he slides his palms up your thighs to your ass, gently kneading the flesh in his hands.

“You said be ready.” he says smoothly, pushing his hips up to add to the friction on your clit. The extra contact catching you off guard making you place your hands on his shoulders for extra balance.

You feel his breath hitch beneath you when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock to guide him to your entrance. You sit down a little slower than you want to due you being a little less wet than usual.

It was your doing, he would’ve been glad to work you up properly, but you were seeking a quick release. Caught somewhere between wanting to take your time so your escape will last longer and needing to reach the cloudy peak as quickly as possible, putting as much distance as you can between you and the thoughts that lay in the valley of your metaphorical mountain. Though it seems your body was choosing the latter for you.

You rock your hips against his, enjoying the way his cock drags against your g-spot, sending heat from your core to your toes. You pick up your pace a little allowing yourself to let go as much as you can, jaw going slack and eyes closing tightly. Jimin groans at the sight, reaching up to toy with your pert nipples.

A light layer of sweat forms over both of your bodies, heating the room like a makeshift furnace. A furnace made of hot skin and moans instead of fire.

You increase the speed of your hips on his until your thighs start to burn, the dull ache in your limbs only adding to the fiery one in your pelvis. Your pants grow louder as your end is nearly in sight.

“Jimin,” you gasp with a mouth like cotton. “I need more.”

Your request straight to the point, he moves his hands to your hips, rubbing your clit one thumb and using his other hand to keep you in place while he thrusts up to meet yours roughly.

“Umph- fuck!” your voice cracks as you fall onto his chest, curling your fingers into his hair and pulling to keep you grounded as your orgasm rips through you.

Jimin groans deeply in your ear, you can tell how your fists in his hair and your walls clenching around him brought him to his end by how desperate his thrusts became. You can feel his cock pulsing as he coats your core with his cum.

You both lay like that for a few moments, his softening dick still tucked safely within you and labored breaths creating a fog around your heads.

“Can I use your shower? I don’t wanna go to work smelling of sex.” you ask and he chuckles against your shoulder.

“By all means.”

“Thank you.” you say, for both the shower and the sex.

He grabs your hand when you go to stand from the damp fabric of his bed. “Are you alright?” he decides to pry for the first time tonight. “You haven’t been that down to business since that fight with your mom a few months ago.” he says, concern laced in his features.

“Yeah.” you begin unsure. “Just, something happened last night that brought up some memories.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he treads lightly, knowing what that statement could mean.

“I’ll be okay. You let me turn off my brain for a minute.” you smile and kiss his cheek.

“Happy to help. I’m here if you need anything.” he says with a stupid wink. Though you know he doesn’t just mean sex. Jimin has been a shoulder for you to cry on as long as you’ve known each other. You’ve always been there for him as well. A mutual understanding that you can come to each other for anything.

“I know, thank you Minie.” — You take a deep breath and run your hands through your hair, cursing the clock above the captain’s doorway that ticks just too loud for you to think. You blink a few times, your eyes struggling to focus on the text on your computer screen. You’re relieved when the phone on your desk starts to ring.

“Hello this is Officer l/n.” you say putting the phone to your ear, unfortunately excited about someone being in distress, but you’re about five minutes of screen time away from getting a migraine.

“Hello Miss l/n, this is Mrs. Choi,” here we go again. “I was wondering if you could send an officer to the house across the street? I think I saw some hoodlums trespassing.” and there it is.

“Of course Mrs. Choi,” you hold back a lengthy exhale. “I’ll go check it out, myself. Did you happen to see anything that could provide a description?”

“I’m afraid not dear, I only saw some trees rustling.” ah yes, the wind. Nature’s trespasser.

“Okay, I’ll take a look. Anything to help you sleep better at night, ma’am.” you smile as sweetly as you can despite her not being able to see you.

“Thank you Miss l/n.” she says promptly ending the call.

You let your breath out fully for the first time since the interaction began. And try your best to ignore how tense it makes you when she always calls you ‘Miss’ but calls all your male coworkers ‘Officer.’ You once put Jin in a choke-hold over a granola bar, you’re more than capable of holding your own, but that’s neither here nor there. Really.

“Mrs. Choi again?” Tae asks peering around the filing cabinet between your desks.

“The one and only.” you state. “She ordered the usual; someone to check the old abandoned house across from hers.”

“Well maybe if someone didn’t break into that place all the time in high school.” he says looking anywhere but at you.

“And now I’m the one who has to get rid of them. The world goes round, balance is restored. Hooray.“ you say feigning awe, he chuckles.

“Hey, I know how you are about that old place, do you want me to check it out for you?” Tae asks his expression morphing into worry.

“I got it, I’m okay. I need to stretch my legs anyway. But thank you Tae, really.” for the first few months you were a cop, you couldn’t even take the patrol route the old house was on without crying. He was always really nice about taking care of it for you. Officer Kim, always ready to jump in at a sign of distress, perhaps why he’s so good at his job.

“Okay, just let me know if you change your mind.” you hum an affirmative as you exit the building.

Though the bubble of anxiety in your stomach grows as you approach the run down house, it doesn’t spill out as tears anymore. You’ve come to accept this is as healed as your wounds will get.

You unlock the chain on the gate and make your way to the front door, knocking harshly before opening it.

“Police! Come out now and I won’t tell your moms what you’ve been doing!” you shout into the empty house. You’re sure the house is empty because every time there has been a few teens in here you can hear them run before you can even shout ‘police!’ but, you still need to do a walk through just in case.

Your cautious steps make the floorboards creak below you, the smell alone flooding your mind with memories.

There’s a sliding glass door in the back, that’s long since been shattered, where you used to sit and get a perfect view of the stars for hours with your first, and thus far only, love.

Your mind wanders to when you used to play music off your phones and slow dance in the living room, skillfully avoiding the gaps in the old wood floor. It’s truly a wonder this place hasn’t been torn down yet, but you’re thankful, you don’t know if you could bear to see it go.

As you make your way down the dark hallway you get a small craving for a cigarette, having quit years ago now, but you can almost feel the dry paper on your lips as you make your way to the last bedroom in the house. You pause at the door.

Your eyes scan until they reach the corner of the room, pausing at the small carving in the wall. Your breath catches for the briefest of seconds when step close to it, tracing the heart with your fingers, careful to not get any splinters. Your fingers continue their journey, tracing the initials at its center with care.

Y/I + YG

“Babe! Angel! C��mere!” Yoongi’s smile beamed, gums and all.

“What?! What did you need to interrupt my sandwich eating to show me?” you follow his voice slightly annoyed, though you wondered why he disappeared for a few minutes, leaving you to munch in solitude. You had met here for a picnic, not uncommon for the two of you during the summer. He brought a blanket and you brought the burgers. You set up the picnic in the living room, with summer sun’s rays spilling through the old cracked windows, it’s a lot more beautiful than sitting in the middle of an abandoned house sounds.

“Look!” he says gesturing to the freshly carved wood on the wall, tucking his trusty knife back in his pocket.

“God, you’re so lame.” you smile and walk over to him. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in close to admire his handy work.

“If I’m lame it’s your fault.” me chuckles running his hand through your hair. “I suppose, loving you makes me this way.” he hums jokingly.

“I never said it was a bad thing.” you look up at him, admiring the way the sun makes his bleached hair glow.

“You know I do right?” his tone drops a bit and his eyes search yours. “I love you.”

“Of course I know.” he only tells you everyday, yet you never tire of hearing it. You study his face, the slope of his nose and the little mole right next to it. His pink petal lips, that despite his reputation, you don’t know how anyone could be weary of a man with such beautifully delicate features. And his dark eyes that lighten only when he looks at you.

His gums return. He tilts your chin up to gently connect your lips. He tastes of the chocolate milkshake he drank not long ago, and you hum against his mouth.

“I love you too.”

The memory shifts, to one five months later.

“I love you too, angel.” his chilled lips peck yours, as he starts to climb out your bedroom window. The winter air makes you shiver when a gust of wind blows against your skin, with only your pajamas to keep you warm. Sometimes you’d sneak him overnight but with the first day back to school being tomorrow, it was too risky. If your mom caught him here again she’d have some choice words for the two of you, but she is a heavy sleeper, so as long as he left at a decent hour, nothing to worry about.

He hops down, his boots packing the snow beneath them when he lands. His head now a bit below yours as you lean out your first story window.

“Text me when you get home!” you remind him as he starts the small trek back to his car.

“Always!” he whisper-shouts back before disappearing around the side of your house.

You gaze up at the moon and take in a deep breath, trying to decide if the frozen air is refreshing or sharp on your lungs. You don’t take the time to figure it out before your window is shut and the air in your room feels hot against your cheeks.

You curl up in bed, and decide to scroll your various socials until your eyes get heavy.

You blink to help your eyes focus on the text on your screen, and decide to call it a night. You flick your eyes over to check the time.

2:30 am? Yoongi left at 2:00 and still no text? He’s always really good about telling you he got home, though he has forgotten a few times, no one is perfect.

“I’ll wait til he texts, he probably stopped for gas.” you mumble to no one.

2:45 am. You decide to text him.

You (2:46am): Love, did you make it home alright?

You (3:15am): I’m sure you just fell asleep.

You hit send trying to convince the panic knotting your stomach.

“He’s forgotten before, why am I freaking out so much?” you mumble to yourself rubbing your eyes. “I’ll just call him.”

My Love missed your call (3:23am)

My Love missed your call (3:35am)

My Love missed your call (3:42am)

“It’s Yoongi, leave your message after the beep.”

“Hi, I know that you’re probably just sleeping, and you’re gonna tell me that you’re fine in the morning.” you push out a laugh trying not to cry. “But I just can’t shake this feeling, so please please call me as soon as you wake up. I love you.”

My Love missed your call (4:01am)

You sit there staring at your phone in your hands, for a few minutes watching the clock on your screen change. Still nothing.

“Alright, fuck it.” you huff and grab your boots, shoving your feet in them and throwing on your jacket. You grab your keys and get in your car, you dial his number again while you start the engine, the route to his house flashing through your mind.

The dial tone in your ear stops ringing. “Thank fuck Yoongi!” the tears you’ve been holding back start to spill in relief. “You scared the-”

“This is Officer Jung.” a deep voice rings in your ear and your blood runs cold.

“What’s going on? What happened?” you ask frantic, the panic in your lungs turning into fire, the air feeling too thick to swallow.

“Ma’am, Min Yoongi was involved in an incident.” he says attempting to make his voice resemble something close to comfort. “The snow caught his tire and hi-”

“Is he okay?” you try to yell but your throat is closing.

“His car was pulled into a ditch, he-.”

“Is he fucking okay?!” your voice cracks and so does the dam holding back your tears.

“He didn’t make it.”

Your heart skips in a way you didn’t know it could, your body instantly too weak to hold itself or anything else. Your phone falls to the floor and your body falls against your steering wheel. You think you’re screaming but who can be sure with the ringing in your ears echoing in your skull. Your vision is blurred and your cheeks are wet. You were shivering when you climbed in your car but your skin has gone numb.

You don’t know how long you were crying in your car but by the time you were able to collect yourself enough to walk back to your bed your phone had no charge, and the sun had begun to rise.

When you finally turned your phone back on, you were flooded with people asking if you were okay, most of them you didn’t even know. After scrolling through your list of unopened texts, you answered only the one from his little brother.

Gukkie (7:38am): You okay?

You (8:44am): No

Gukkie (8:45am): Yeah, me either.

Now the ache is dull and the memories are faded. The anger and hurt that used to filter them turns more rosy as time goes on. And as with most wounds, there are scars. Love runs deep and Min Yoongi was your deepest river and your deepest cut.

You finish tracing the divots in the wood and smile bittersweetly. You place a kiss on the tips of your first and second fingers, you touch them to his initials and take a deep breath.

You let that breath go slowly as you walk out of the house, careful not to step on any of the less stable floor panels. Your lungs finally empty when you reach the gate where you can not-so-metaphorically lock up your past. — “Did you really need to cuff me?” you hear a familiar voice huff from behind you.

“Yes I did.” Tae grunts, you turn to see him holding Jungkook by the elbow before he plops him down in the seat next to his desk.

“Alright, you’re the boss.” he says somewhere between sarcasm and defeat. He attempts to shift into a comfortable position, his cuffs against the metal chair hitting your ears in a less than pleasant way.

Jungkook glances your way and gives you a small nod when you catch eyes, and you do your best to pretend you meant to be staring at him. Though you’re sure he’s probably just as tense as you are. Police stations aren’t exactly the best place for a reunion. Especially twice.

“Name.” Taehyung states in a business-like tone.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“Date of birth.” September first, 1997.

“September first, 1997.”

“Address.” 5235 west- shit I’m eavesdropping.

You shift in your seat and refocus on what you were doing before they came in. You try to at least.

Seokjin returns from his patrol route, entering the room the same as he always does, as loud as possible. “Tag you’re it!” he says with a childlike smile as he pats Tae on the shoulder.

“I’m kinda busy.” he gestures to Jungkook and his computer screen.

“I can take care of the report for you.” you butt in before you can think about the fact that you’re speaking. Tae slides his chair to your desk to get out of the other’s ear shot. “Do you really wanna deal with him? I know you’re not a big fan.” you lower your voice.

“Yeah, you have a point.” He thinks for a second, looking over at the man in question and grimacing slightly. “You sure?”

“Of course, I took care of him last week.” you say matter of factly. “And years before that.” you add after a beat. He nods in agreement, and grabs his jacket. “Change in plans Guk,” he smiles at the nickname he hasn’t heard from you in a long time. “You’re with me, Officer Kim has other business he needs to attend to.”

“Oh does he?” Jungkook mutters under his breath and you hold back a chuckle. He gets up from Tae’s desk and shuffles over to yours, his shoulders releasing slightly.

Without saying anything you unlock his wrists and set the cuffs on your desk, he rubs his skin a little too dramatically and you smile when he sits back in the chair looking more relaxed.

“Thank you.” Jungkook smiles. You miss the way Tae scowls at your gesture as he walks out of the building.

You start filing out the basics without question, as you know all the answers. He sits there tracing the walls with his eyes, far less entertaining than last week having already memorized the lack luster wallpaper.

“Alright Guk, what happened this time?” you say after a couple minutes.

“I didn’t fucking do anything.” he says widening his eyes clearly frustrated but not at you.

“It appears you did.” you say accusing him playfully.

“Seriously.” he relaxes a little. “I went to Red Eye again, I was minding my own business.” he points his finger at you in preemptive defense. “The same guy from last week-”

“The one whose face you busted?” you quip.

He stops, mouth slightly agape. “Yes, that one.”

“Continue.” you smirk and he glares at you slightly.

“I was sitting at the bar, he came up and started saying he could kick my ass for what I did. I told him to forget about it cause I wasn’t gonna fight him. He said I may look tough now but I’m still the same sixteen year old I was before everything. I got in his face, no fists mind you, and told him to fuck off. The security saw us yelling and told us we needed to leave, and I refused because I had done nothing wrong. He told me he would call the cops and the other guy left, but I sat my ass back down, cause The Man has never stopped me before. And bingo bango, Officer Pretty Boy cuffs me and I’m here.”

“You just can’t get rid of that rep of yours, can you?” you soften.

“I’m used to it, and it’s nothing I didn’t do to myself.” he shrugs. “Besides, I’d rather be feared than pitied.” his voice lowers, and your heart twinges.

“I don’t fear or pity you.” he smiles, not one of those smiles that’s big and all teeth, but one that’s small and warm. Jungkook had this way of saying everything he needed without speaking a word.

Silence falls over you while you finish writing the report. He didn’t do anything other than disturb the peace for a moment, no need for punishment harsher than a slap on the wrist.

“Ow!” he rubs his arm. “What the fuck was that for?” he questions, his brows furrow.

“It was a slap on the wrist.” you shrug. “You didn’t do anything that requires a fine or jail time, so you get a warning.”

“Aren’t you taking that a tad too literal?” he chuckles.

“I don’t think so.” you fight a smile. “I don’t wanna see you with flashing lights near you again unless you catch fire. Am I understood?”

“Yes ma’am.” he playfully salutes, but he knows you’re serious.

“Would you like a ride back to your car?”

“I can walk, that’s not necessary.” he says standing up and waving you off.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, the air will do me good.” his feet stutter. “Would you maybe want to get coffee on Wednesday? I didn’t imagine our reunion going quite like this.” he lets out a breathy laugh.

“I’d love that.” your eagerness to accept surprises you, and given the way he lights up, you surprise him too. — You mindlessly push the noodles you’ve been eating around on your plate letting the sound of other tables’ utensils clinking and your mother ramble on about her book club’s latest ventures buzz lowly in your head as you hum vague responses.

“… Jeon Jungkook moved back to town.” the mention of the name snaps you back into reality.

“What about Jungkook?” you ask, now at full attention.

“Have you heard he moved back to town?” she looks at you expectantly.

“I- um. I thought I saw him in the grocery store the other day, but I assumed I was seeing things.” you say keeping your voice as steady as possible.

“His mother is absolutely over the moon about it.” she says, wholly missing your lie as she was too excited at the prospect of telling you the latest gossip. Small town doesn’t leave one with much else to do.

“I’m sure she is.” you say and your chest can’t help but warm at the thought of Mrs. Jeon being so excited to see her son after he’s been gone for three years.

“She’s so happy he finally gave up on that god awful garage band.” she says, relief filling her face, and you roll your eyes. You had nearly forgotten he went to the city to make it big, you hadn’t ever doubted them, his voice alone was label worthy. “What were they called again? Red appendix?”

You blink. “Crimson Heart?” you offer her, knowing full well you’re correct.

“Ah right! That’s the one.” she says laughing at the, admittedly edgy, name. “I’m so glad he’s cleaning up his act, I expected better of him.” she adds, shaking her head. Your shoulders tense at her statement.

“Did you hear Jeon Jungkook got busted for spray painting the movie theater?” your mom questions as she leans on your door frame. Your face buried in some book you didn’t know the name of, as long as it had words in it. Mind numbing words.

“Um, no mom. I didn’t.” you mumble clearly uncomfortable with the subject. It was summer now, about six months since that night. The cold unforgiving weather that changed your world in an instant long since melted away, and as free as summer used to make you feel, it just feels hot and bitter against your skin.

“It just makes me sad, I expected better for him.” her voice solemn, clearly not ready to let the topic go.

You couldn’t muster a response that wasn’t yelling or trying to reason with her, which would get you nowhere.

“I never understood why you couldn’t have chosen the good brother.”

Your fingers clench around your book wrinkling the pages. She’d said that for years but sting you felt this time was far deeper.

“He was so studious and stayed out of trouble, but it looks like I was wrong.” she says, appearing more upset that her judgment was off, rather than the obvious issue at hand.

“Can we please not talk about them.” you plead softly, fighting your closing throat and watering eyes.

“Honey, I know you miss him, but look how much better you’re doing now! You’re reading for pleasure.” I’m reading so I can’t think. “You raised your GPA up almost a whole point before the year ended.” My test scores are the same, I just did my homework. “And I haven’t found cigarettes under your bed in months!” She seems most excited about that one. I’ll give her the smoking, they don’t fill my lungs the same way they used to. How can they when I can’t catch my breath?

Her attempt at comfort doing nothing but reminding you that you can’t be who you want to be anymore. You’d become someone who does any trivial task they can as not to spend too much time alone with their thoughts. Instead of someone who didn’t give a shit, did what they wanted to do, and most importantly had their love by their side. “Yeah, I guess not smoking anymore is good.”

“You know I always rooted for you two.” your mom says, her smile mischievous.

“I know, you always told me he was the ‘good brother’.” you try to conceal your eye roll at the same conversation you’ve had with her a million times.

“Before you and Yoongi got together, too.” she adds.

“What?” now this surprised you.

“His mom and I used to talk about how cute you’d be when you were all in elementary.” she remembers fondly.

You try to respond but you’re too shocked that her infatuation with Jungkook went past him being ‘so close yet so far.’

“Anywho, I just hope he can find the boy he used to be.” she hums.

You agree, but for largely different reasons. Your chest blooms at the thought of a smiling Jungkook.

“So do I, mom.” — Jimin (6:37pm): Hey Doll, in need of extra McLovin after lunch with The Wicked Witch of the West?

You (6:45pm): Actually, I feel okay Minie, but thank you

You (6:46pm): I’m doing better

Jimin (6:53pm): I’m proud of you, beautiful

You (7:04pm): Me too — When you walk into the coffee shop a few minutes before you were supposed to meet you’re surprised to see Jungkook already sitting at a small table by the wall of large windows with two cups of coffee placed in front of him.

“Hey Guk.” you sit down, shoulders relaxing.

“I got your old order, I hope that’s okay.” he smiles nervously.

“How the hell did you remember that?” you gasp, taking a long sip from your cup.

“You’ve had a caffeine addiction since you were like fourteen, and you practically lived at my house.” he chuckled.

“I suppose you’re right.” you nod in agreement and take another sip, the drink making your taste buds dance.

“Listen,” Jungkook begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “I want to apologize for the whole you arresting me twice thing.” he hesitates.

“Technically, I didn’t arrest you the second time.” you correct with a smile, trying to ease his obvious guilt.

“Still.” his voice insistent, almost stern. “That isn’t exactly how I wanted us to meet again after five years. It didn’t feel right to not fix it.” his face seeking the approval that his apology did, in fact, fix it.

“There was nothing to fix really, Guk. But thank you.” you soften. “I don’t think of you any different. How could I, given my past?” he chuckles at that. “And you got the shit end of the stick in both situations. I still know you’d never do anything truly bad, you’re all bark and no bite.”

“Oh, you don’t think I can bite?” he tongues the inside of his cheek smugly.

“Would you shut up?” his face shifts immediately, his eyes crinkling. “I’m serious.” you groan, but the heat threatening your cheeks and ears contradicts you. Well, that’s odd. Anyway.

“Okay.” he says after a beat. “C’mon y/n, I know you’re dying to know why I came back. Just ask.” he states, less than smoothly steering the conversation.

“Why would I wonder about you inexplicably reappearing after three years of nearly zero contact with anyone? It hasn’t crossed my mind at all.” your mouth laced with sarcasm.

“You think you’re so funny.” he squints. “I am.” you wave him off. “Alright, spill Rockstar, since you want to so bad. Why’d you give up living it up in the city to come back to all this?”

“Actually.” he laughs. “They kicked me out of the band like two years ago.”

You blink. “What? Why would they kick out their only talent?” you say screwing your brow in offense.

He nearly chokes on his coffee. He sputters trying to catch his breath, wiping his mouth on this arm. “Thank you.” he clears his throat. “But they were definitely better off without me.”

“How do you figure?”

“I wasn’t in the best place when the guys and I moved over there, for obvious reasons.” you nod. “I was getting black out drunk every other night. And writing songs that were just, not good. The kind of sad that isn’t relatable anymore, it was just painful and would make the crowds go silent.”

You grab his hand wishing you could’ve been there when he really needed it, but now will have to do. He smiles.

“The last straw though, was one night I got absurdly drunk right before a gig, and I thought I could handle it because I had been tipsy on stage before. They told me not to but I didn’t listen, and when I got to the song that I wrote about Yoongi, I just broke down sobbing on stage. I was embarrassed so I just fucked off out of the venue and kept running until I didn’t recognize where I was anymore.”

“Guk, I’m so sorry.” you squeeze his hand, and he rubs his inked thumb over you knuckles to tell you not to worry.

“No it’s okay, the guys found me the next morning, passed out in a Denny’s.” he chuckles stiffly. “They brought me home and told me that I needed to get help, they didn’t want to watch me self-destruct anymore, and at the time I was hurt but I’m grateful. It still took me a fucking while to work up the courage to come home, but if I didn’t have anyone tell me to try, I don’t think I’d be home now.” his expression turned from bitter to sweet as he recounted his story.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too.” he smiles, the stars in his eyes multiplying when he looks at you. “My dumbass fifteen year old self thought if I went dark side I could fill the hole he left, but I didn’t know what dark side really looked like until it was too late. Then it just became something I told myself so I didn’t have to face the fact that I was doing shitty shit.”

“You sound like you’ve taken a lot of time to reflect.” you say impressed.

“Limiting your alcohol intake to a normal human level will do that to you.” he chuckles.

“My dumbass sixteen year old self wasn’t much better, arguably worse.” you counter. “I thought if I got rid of everything in my life that reminded me of him, I could force myself to forget.” your face falls slightly. “Which is worse? Diving in head first or turning your back entirely?” you push out a sound that’s supposed to be laugh.

“I think both are pretty fucking miserable.” you both laugh, he gives you reassuring look. “But, tragic backstory aside. I wanted to come home to face the music and make amends with my mom.”

“My mom told me she’s very happy you’re home.” you can’t help but feel her relief.

“Yeah, I really put her through hell.” his guilt present in his expression.

“But you’re here now, aren’t you?” he relaxes, his gaze fixed on yours for a moment. There’s those stars again.

He blinks, snapping his attention to his coffee. “I’m gonna get a refill” he says, disconnecting your hands, that you had forgotten you were holding, to tap his empty cup on the table. “Do you want another?”

“Yes please.” you say turning to rummage in your bag for a few dollars to give him, but when you turn around he’s already in line. You deflate setting the cash in front of you.

Your eyes wander around the cafe, inspecting the comforting eclectic vibe it produced. Your gaze stops on Jungkook standing in line, studying how his features have changed, how he has grown a few inches, his shoulders have broadened and how you can see the way his bicep flexes ever so slightly when he takes the coffee from the barista. What the fuck? Did I just check him out?

You inhale sharply, turning your focus on anything happening on the street outside the window.

When he’s seated back in front of you, you slide the small bills in his direction. He promptly slides them back towards you and you glare at him.

“When did you get so hell-bent on being nice?” he smiles.

You scrunch your brows and drop your jaw. “What do you mean? I’ve always been nice?” you question in defense and he laughs.

“You used to make fun of me all the time.” he states, crossing his arms.

“I mean yeah, but like in a sibling banter type way.” you frown. “Did you really think I was trying to bully you?”

“No!” he reassures. “I mean it kinda sucked because…” he trails off and takes a sip of his coffee in an attempt to abandon his sentence.

“Because?” You’re not getting away that easy.

“You know it’s funny.” he breathes. “I used to have a huge crush on you.” he admits nervously.

“And?” you blink.

“And?” he echos. “No reaction? Not even a slight inhale?”

“I knew, Gukkie.” you break as softly as you can.

Now it’s his turn to be surprised. “You did?” his furrows his brows in offense.

“We both did.” you laugh lightly. “Why do you think Yoongi left an obnoxious amount of hickies on my neck?” you can’t help but cringe a little at the memory.

“That asshole!” Jungkook’s jaw drops, and you snort. “I just thought you were normal slutty teenagers.”

“I didn’t say we weren’t.” you add trying to contain your laughter at the attention his outburst brought you.

He throws you an accusatory squint. “You guys suck.” — “You didn’t need to walk me back to work.” you beam at Jungkook as you walk through the doors of the station. “I don’t need protection.”

“I know you don’t.” he defends. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.” you laugh.

“What did he do this time?” Taehyung chimes in loudly from his desk.

You turn to face him. “Nothing, we just got coffee and caught up.”

His expression remains bitter and unconvinced. You opt for brushing him off.

“Thank you, Gukkie.” you smile when you turn back to Jungkook.

“No, you.” he says, patting your hair affectionately before he exits.

You stand at your desk, shifting various papers to pick up where you left off when you see Taehyung approaching you out of the corner of your eye.

“What the fuck, y/n?” he asks angrily, and you widen your eyes in confusion.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”

“Listen, I get it.” he ignores you. “You let him off easy a couple times because you have history together or whatever. But now you’re going on a date with him?” he accuses.

“Tae, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he scoffs, and your jaw tenses. “I would never slack on my job. And that most definitely was not a date.” your words sharp, hoping you’ll get him to drop whatever bullshit this is.

“Then why would you let him go both times?” he crosses his arms waiting impatiently for a response.

“I didn’t ‘let him go,’ because we had no reason to keep him. It’s not illegal to defend yourself or to be a bit of a stubborn ass.” you defend, raising your voice. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Sure okay.” Tae says, clearly annoyed averting his gaze from you.

“I trust him, and you should trust me Taehyung. Why are you being like this?” your voice falling slightly. “Because, I care about you, and the kid is bad news. Do you not remember all that shit he pulled at the end of high school before he took off for several years? He can just show up and everything is heart eyes and open arms?” he says trying to convince you but all it does is make your blood boil.

“I appreciate your concern,” you bite. “But you don’t know him.” He shakes his head letting out a stiff laugh. “Figures you wouldn’t be able to read him, you always did know how to pick ‘em.” “What the fuck, is that supposed to mean?” you say all but seeing red, trying but failing not to yell.

He tongues his cheek and turns to walk back to his desk, very much done with the subject, but you were far from it.

“No!” you say following him. “You can’t just say that and then walk away. Explain yourself.” “I don’t know what the fuck is going on out here but it’s going to end right now.” Captain Kim Namjoon says sternly from his office doorway, arms crossed tight on his chest. “Our apologies, Sir.” you say, both of you bowing at him.

“Y/n, you look frazzled, go home and walk it off.” he offers pointing at the door. “Captain, we’ll drop it. I-” “It wasn’t a suggestion, Officer y/l.” he interrupts. “I expect you’ll be better tomorrow.” his voice a little softer now.

“Yes, Sir.” you bow again, and turn on your heals quickly, avoiding Tae entering your line of vision.

You white knuckle your steering wheel your whole drive home, you’re probably speeding but you can’t be bothered to check. What are you gonna do? Get pulled over?

When your car is parked, you fish your phone out of your pocket. You pull up Jungkook’s contact and your finger hovers over the call button for a second, but you can’t bring yourself to press it with him having been so happy when you two parted less than an hour ago. You opt for seeking comfort from someone else.

You (3:32pm): I need you

Jimin (3:35pm): I’m off in an hour <3 — Your chest rises and falls rapidly while you stare at Jimin’s ceiling, waiting for the normal relief that settles after you two have sex.

But even after you’ve caught your breath you still don’t feel it, the sweat covering your body starting to feel less like afterglow and more like guilt. Why won’t my chest unknot? We’ve hate-fucked countless times. What’s different?

You brush it off shaking your head in the hopes you can trick yourself into feeling normal, before you stand up to gather your clothes. You shudder at how sticky your skin feels against itself as you button up your shirt.

You decide some fresh air would do you good, and you open his bedroom window and take a breath and let the flowers outside fill your nose.

“You okay, beautiful?” Jimin’s voice sounds from behind you. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” you say before you can fully register what you’re saying. You turn to him, his towel hanging lowly on his hips and the hand tousling his damp hair stops in its tracks, his eyes widen. “Is the sex not good anymore? I thought you liked it when I bit your ass.” he chuckles through his worry. His joke makes you soften a little. “No, it’s not anything you did.” you say walking over to hold his hands. “Remember how I said I was doing better?” he nods, his worry fades into a smile. “Turns out that’s more true than I thought it was.” you say and as the words leave your mouth, your body finds that relief it was looking for. Feeling like, for the first time in forever you don’t need to escape your own mind for a minute to function. “Is there a guy?” he quirks a mischievous brow. “Are you ready to be monogamous?” he gasps dramatically. You shove his shoulder while he giggles. “No guy, I just…” you think for a moment. “Don’t need to forget anymore.” you breathe, lungs feeling lighter, and he smiles brightly.

He hugs you tightly. “I really am proud of you, y/n.” he says into your hair. You smile against his shoulder. “Me too.”

You break the hug and he frowns slightly. “Guess it’s you and me for a while now bud.” he says looking at his palm.

“Jimin, I just had an emotional epiphany, and it only took you two seconds to be gross again?” “That’s why you love me.” he laughs trying to give you another hug. You laugh, pushing him by the shoulders. “Fuck off, Park.” — The sun hits your skin warming it despite the cool breeze, music playing your ears as your feet keep a steady rhythm against the pavement below you. Your late morning jog becoming more of a nature walk with the changing seasons. The greenery returning and the sweet smell it provides makes your limbs feel a bit lighter. You nearly throw a punch when someone starts jogging next to you. You stumble slightly after you nearly run into a sign. When you pull your ear buds out he’s laughing at you.

“Careful there.” Jungkook laughs, continuing to match your pace. “You scared the fuck out of me.” you huff steadying yourself. “What are you doing?” “Um-” He looks at you and then his feet. “Jogging?”

“Astute observation,” you smile in spite of yourself. “I mean why are you following me, creep?” you laugh. “I was jogging on the other side of the street and when I saw you I thought I’d join.” he shrugs. “I guess that’s allowed.” Neither of you talks for a few minutes, nothing but your shoes fitting the sidewalk and your heavy breaths filling your ears.

Normally with a silence like this your mind would shuffle through the files of your mind, bringing a similar memory to the forefront, good or bad. But you come up blank. You inhale deeply deciding to file this under ‘Something New.’

“Are you getting tired?” He asks. “No?”

“Good.” he smiles and tries to wink before he picks up his pace, pulling ahead of you. “A race? What are you, twelve?” you laugh running faster.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over me winning!” he calls over his shoulder, and you groan at the considerable distance he’s put between you.

“You’re an asshole!” you pick up your speed fully running ahead of him.

You laugh and chase each other halfway across town, if you could see how you look you would probably be embarrassed, but you can’t be bothered to think about anything but the wind hitting your face and the idiot you’re running with.

He stops in front of a small market, and contrary to how you struggle to catch your breath, your lungs feel fuller than they have in years.

“Do you wanna get ice cream?” he questions, eyeing the banner in the store window.

“Won’t that negate all the exercise we just did?” you breathe, wiping sweat off your forehead. “And?” “You make a strong argument.” you say pushing the door to the corner store open and sighing when the air condition hits you like a refreshing wall. You walk straight to the large freezer to pick out your respective flavors.

You wordlessly decide to walk home in favor of more running, talking about nothing between bites of your cold treats, and you can’t help but think the flowers smell a little sweeter. — You have more work to catch up on than you normally do, you opt for having lunch at your desk so you can work through your break. You have your lunch to your side as your fingers click away on your keyboard.

Something being placed gently on your desk draws your attention away from your screen. You look over too a coffee cup with ‘I’m sorry’ written on it and with a sheepish looking Tae with his hand still wrapped around it. “I’m sorry.” he says looking guilty. “Tae-”

“I acted like a complete ass the other day.” he interrupts before you can even fully think of a response. “Well I won’t argue with that.” you soften and he looks the slightest bit relieved. “I just care about you, and I don’t trust him.” he reiterates his statement from a few days prior.

“This apology was going so well.” you half laugh.

“But!” he adds quickly. “But, I trust you. And if you trust him, then that’s good enough for me.” he says with large eyes, nudging the coffee toward you in the hopes you’ll accept his regret. “Thank you, Tae.” you say taking a sip of the bittersweet drink, appreciating his sincerity. Truth be told, you had already begun to forgive him, he just wants you to be happy. If he expresses his concerns in a less assholistic way next time, you’d be happy to listen. “And I won’t stand in your way if you want to date him.” he smiles. “Like you could, I can kick your ass Kim.” you laugh. “And what is it with you and us dating? I promise you, it’s not like that.”

“Awfully defensive for someone who has no reason to be.” he eyes you with a stupid smirk.

“I just forgave you, don’t push it.” you point a finger and he raises his hands in defense though he doesn’t drop the taunting smirk on his face. He walks backwards to his desk and sits in his chair giving you a nod as one last confirmation that you’ve forgiven him. You continue your work, the air feeling light in the station for the first time since your fight. So focused on your pile of tasks you don’t even notice it’s dark out until the phone rings and makes you look up from your computer.

“Hello, this is Officer y/l.”

“Hello dear, this is Mrs. Choi.” she says sweetly. It’s like clockwork with this fucking lady. “Could you possibly send an officer to this side of town? I saw a young man in a black hoodie hop the fence to the old place.” Well that is far more description than usual.

“Of course, I’ll go make sure everything is okay.” you reassure.

“It’s appreciated as always, Miss y/n.” she says before she hangs up.

“Mrs. Choi?” Tae asks lazily, not even lifting his eyes from his computer.

“Yep.” you say tossing your jacket on.

“Do you want me to check on it?” now he’s looking at you, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“No, I’ll be fine.” you smile. More than fine this time.

Your drive to the old house feels way more like a normal patrol than it ever has, the air feeling like a fog has been cleared. Or perhaps you’re just getting a little too used to Mrs. Choi’s usual request.

You walk down the familiar dirt driveway and your eyebrows furrow when you see a light in the window. Incredible, the old woman who cried wolf is actually right.

“Police!” you shout before you turn the doorknob, your guard not too high as you’re expecting a harmless teenager. Though you’re surprised when you find Jungkook sitting against the wall at the edge of the tattered living room, his legs bent with his forearms resting on them and a bottle of whiskey by his hip. “I’m not here to damage any property.” he says calmly, raising his hands above his head in a lazy surrender. “What are you doing here?” you ask and point your flashlight at the ceiling to better light the space, the light on his phone not doing very much by itself.

“It was something of a quiet place for me. I guess old habits die hard.” he said patting the dusty wall he’s leaning against.

“It was for me too.” you breathe, you look around the room taking in how it’s become even more run down and not quite as beautiful as you remember but breathtaking even without the fantastical dream cloud your memories have become muddled with. “Did he bring you here too?” he looks at you through his messy hair, much more practiced than you at bringing Yoongi up in conversation.

“Yeah he did.” you smile fondly. “We used to have picnics here all the time during the summer.”

“Sounds romantic.” he says, with a comedic scoff.

“Hey, for a sixteen year old? Peak romance.” you retort and he chuckles, letting his head fall against the wall. “He never told me he brought you here too.” you furrow your brows. “Makes sense though, it was his favorite place.” “Yeah, he brought me here a few times when he could ‘remove the stick from my ass.’” he laughs at the memory. “I never understood, there’s about three inches of dust on everything and all the windows are cracked.” he shakes his head. “But after he was gone, it was the most peaceful place I could find. There’s no place as serene as these four shitty walls.” he smiles looking up at you. “It was far less peaceful for me after the accident. The silence coming from this place was deafening for a long time.” you take a seat next to him. “But it’s not so bad anymore.” you hum, eyes scanning the room. You sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes letting the sound of the crickets fill your ears, doing your best to not disrupt the stillness around you.

“I want to thank you.” your mouth making the decisions for you once again. “I missed you a lot and spending time with you has been really nice. I’ve been able to face things again that I didn’t think I ever would.” you steady your breath. “So, thank you.”

“I should thank you too.” he begins, and you turn to watch the way his profile moves when he speaks. “I can’t recall a time I smiled when thinking of him. It feels nice to reminisce, not just remember and wish he was still here.”

“God, he wouldn’t recognize either of us.” you say looking down at your uniform and Jungkook’s dirtied jeans.

“He’d kick both our asses.” you laugh.

“You know for a long time,” you hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I was upset because I lost the boy I was in love with.” he shifts a bit. “But somewhere along the way, it became less about being in love and more that someone I cared for so deeply was gone. I don’t know when or where I fell out of love, but it took me a long time to realize that I had.” “I don’t think falling in or out of love can be pinned to a single moment. You just kinda have to take a step back every so often to assess how fucked you currently are.” he laughs, leaning his head on yours. “How vulgar yet profound.” you smile and lace your fingers together. Your mind is running at a dull roar. You had never actually said you weren’t in love with Yoongi out loud before, not even to yourself. You suppose on some level you’ve known for years but saying it made you aware of just how true it was, like you’d been standing on a diving board for ages and finally took the leap that wasn’t so scary after all. You’d still give your left arm to have him there with you now, whether you were still just as in love or maybe just a friend. You still loved him but maybe… I’m not in love anymore. Before you have a chance to explore that thought further you feel Jungkook’s lips on yours, you gasp slightly and move your mouth with his, humming at how soft his lips are.

Despite your realization, when you close your eyes you’re overwhelmed with how familiar this feels. The stale smell of the wood around you and images of Yoongi kissing you right where you’re sitting flashing through your mind. Suddenly your heart is beating in your ears and just as quickly as it began you break the kiss.

“Fuck, y/n I’m so sorry.” he says when his eyes meet yours again. “No don’t be, it’s okay.” you say, trying but failing to keep your voice steady as you stand. He gets up to follow you but his feet seem to be stuck. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t worry about it.” you force a smile. “I should get back to work, I’ll see you Guk.” You say trying to ignore how your throat wants to close. He doesn’t answer, just watches as you close the door behind you, leaving him alone in the empty house. The sense of serenity he found within these walls fades as the light of your flashlight gets further away.

You pull out of the driveway, and remember why you were here in the first place when you see Mrs. Choi’s house across the street. You decide to say fuck it and drive back to the station and hope that she just went to bed. — You (2:30am): Sorry I left. I just need to think

Jungkook (2:37am): No I’m sorry, take your time

You read the same two texts over for what has to be the three hundredth time in the last few days. For a long time you stared at it unsure if you should respond, and then too much time had passed.

Not even texting could be simple with Jungkook.

But where the paradox lies is, if you stop thinking, the smile you hold when you’re with him is the simplest thing you’ve ever done.

Just like the texts you play the kiss in your mind on a loop, your lips tingling at the memory. The old house under your feet and Jungkook’s arms around you crosses too many wires in your brain for anything to make sense.

All you know is… when he kissed your lips you felt like you could breathe again. — You’re sitting on your couch when you hear a frantic knocking at your door. You jump at the sound and check the time. 11:30? What the hell? Your training kicks in and you approach your door and open it slowly.

“Okay listen, I’m so fucking sorry.” Jungkook rambles frantically pushing past you beginning to pace around your living room. “It was fucked up to kiss you, but I just- your eyes looked so beautiful and- shit that’s not the point.” he runs a hand through his hair trying to collect his thoughts. “Guk, it’s okay. You don’t need to-”

“I know what I did was shitty but we haven’t talked in days, and I can’t bear to not have you in my life again.” he’s on the verge of yelling at this point. “This time since I’ve been home with you is the most alive I’ve felt since I was fucking fifteen.”

“I’m not upset with y-”

“I know, I wouldn’t forgive me either, but I needed to try and-”

“Oh for fucks sake.” you mumble as he continues to ramble. You take in a breath. “I wanted you to kiss me!”

“I-” he finally stops, nearly out of breath. “You what?” “I wanted you to kiss me, that’s what scared me.” you clarify now that he’s listening.

He just blinks unsure of what to say. He imagined this going far differently, something more along the mine of you slamming the door in his face, but you didn’t and his heart swells as he takes in your words. “I want it too.” you continue though you’re unsure where you’re going. “I love you, Jungkook, and I can’t get your stupid pretty smile out of my head and-”

“You love me?” the words falling from his mouth softly, and his gaze fixes on your face.

“Yes.” you breathe realizing what you just said. “And it scares the shit out of me.”

“How do you think I feel? I’m in love with my deceased brother’s ex.” he counters, laughing at how ridiculous your situation is, and your heart can’t help but race at his bittersweet words. “But you’re the first time I’ve felt home in forever.” he says, his eyes hiding behind messy bangs.

“Me too.” you admit, and the air in your lungs feels lighter. “I know he would want us to follow our hearts but… like this?” you ask sheepishly, maintaining the distance between you as if neither of you are allowed to cross the invisible threshold.

“I think that even if you guys got the opportunity to break up like two normal ass teenagers…” he begins, his face full of concern but his eyes filled with the hope that you’ll agree. “He always wanted everyone he cared about to be happy, and fuck y/n, you make me so happy. You always have.” There’s those stars again.

“But I feel guilty.” your eyes threatening to water for the first time in a long time, and your lips tingle at the memory of Jungkook’s lips on yours. “Me too.” he takes a step closer to you. “But we don’t have to. We can-” “No, you don’t understand.” you interrupt and he deflates. “I feel guilty because even though we’re talking about him… I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want you to kiss me again.” “Fuck, okay.” he says as if you had just stolen the air from his lungs. He quickly closes the gap between you and reconnects your lips. You put your arms around his neck and attempt to pull him as close as you can, his hands are warm on your jaw and the dream cloud in your mind feels as if it’s been wrapped around the two of you. A blanket of home that you didn’t know had been missing until you had it again.

You run your fingers through his hair and savor how it feels in your hands. He licks into your mouth and his heavy breaths feel hot between kisses. He feels almost frantic as you feel his nails gently dig into the sides of your neck, as though you’d slip out of his grasp if he doesn’t tighten his grip, the dull pressure making you moan into his mouth.

You put your hands on his and he relaxes his fingers. You pull his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging it lightly and he groans at the sensation, your thighs rub together at how you’re affecting him.

You wordlessly guide him to the couch and nudge him gently until his shoulders are flush with the back of the couch. You straddle him and his thighs flex underneath your ass, you resist the urge to grind down onto him in favor of kissing along his jaw.

His tense shoulders release under your hands as your lips continue their path to his neck. Your teeth graze his skin and his breath catches in your ear, you smirk and bite down harder. His hands quickly grab onto your hips squeezing them in tandem with your mouth, you run your tongue along his reddened skin and your sounds create the most beautiful harmony you’ve ever heard.

Your hips give into temptation and grind down on his hardened dick, the layers between you not doing much in the way of friction but the way his hands tighten around your waist send heat through you melting you from the inside out.

Your hand snakes between you to palm him through his jeans and you move your head up to face him, to see how sweet he looks with his eyes squeezed shut and lips parted from your touch. He reconnects your mouths and the kiss is messy as neither of you can properly think.

You break the kiss and quickly slip to your knees between his thighs. You tuck your fingers into his waistband and pause your movement, eyes searching for his. “Is this okay?” you ask with a slight tug to his pants, he answers by smirking lazily and helping you slide them down his hips.

You pull his boxers down and your mouth waters when you see his dick, the tip a frustrated shade of red. You run your tongue along the thick vein on the underside of this length, wrapping your lips around it when you reach the tip. He groans as if he’s relieved to finally have your lips wrapped around him. He grips your hair tightly, fingers flexing against your scalp as he fights the urge to push your head down to his base.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good, sweetheart.” he says out of breath, working against his flexing abdomen to keep his voice steady. You hum around him in response making his hips stutter against your mouth, and arousal pools at your core.

You sink your mouth as far down as you can and he moans deeply holding your head in place beginning to thrust into your mouth to test the waters. You grip his thighs to ground yourself and do your best to ignore the way your lungs are beginning to burn. He picks up his pace and you take his cock in your throat until tears prick in your eyes. You tap his thigh and he takes the hint releasing your head so you can breath again.

“You like having your pretty mouth fucked, don’t you?” he questions as he wipes a tear from your eye with his thumb. You nod eagerly and move to take his cock back in your mouth but his grip on your hair stops you. “Patience beautiful,” his eyes darken looking at your swollen lips. “Open.” he says, his voice low. You oblige, flatting your tongue for good measure, he spits in your mouth and his cock twitches at the sight. He lowers your lips back on his dick, the extra wetness making him groan at how messy you look, and you try to keep your throat as relaxed as you can, doing your best to ignore the growing arousal between your legs.

He breaks his assault on your mouth, pulling your head up with a wet pop and you gasp. “Can I taste you too, sweetheart?” he asks sweetly despite how ready he looks to devour you.

“Yes Sir.” you answer and his pupils twitch at the name.

“You’re gonna ruin me.” he laughs stiffly, releasing your hair and you realize how sore your scalp is.

You stand on shaky legs, he sheds his shirt and you follow suit before laying on the couch in front of him. You tuck your fingers in your waistband but he stops you. “Let me.” He says his eyes softening and you relent.

He puts his large palm on your waist and kisses your lips slowly contradicting his previous actions. He leaves hot open mouthed kisses on your neck and down your chest, the wet trail he leaves behind feeling cold when the air hits it. He wraps his mouth around one of your hardened nipples, swirling his tongue and teasing his teeth on the sensitive skin.

Your moan catches in your throat as he bites down and your hand tangles in his hair trying to pull him closer. His free hand runs up your arm removing it from his head and pinning against the cushion gently, you lace your fingers together and you can feel him smile against your chest.

His mouth doing little to relieve the real fire you’re feeling growing deep in your abdomen. You give into the urge to move your hips against his waist and he chuckles deeply taking the hint and continuing his path down your stomach, nipping at your skin when he reaches the hem of your pants.

His breathing picks up again as he slips your pants down your legs and the wet spot on your underwear is exposed to his gaze. He takes his time removing your panties, reveling in the string of your slick that follows. “Such a pretty pussy.” he breathes quietly just to himself.

He tosses them on the floor and eagerly puts your thighs on his shoulders placing gentle pecks anywhere but where you need his mouth. You roll your hips to meet his face and he smirks darkly at your frustration. After properly enjoying your wordless plea he gives you what you want, licking a long flat stripe from your entrance to your clit and you whine at the small bit of relief he’s giving you.

“Did you get this wet just from sucking my cock, sweetheart?” you deflate slightly at his teasing and nod, clenching around nothing at his words. He swallows a groan at the sight in front of him.

He wastes no time wrapping his lips around your clit, swirling tongue in delicious circles. A moan rips out of your throat at the sudden stimulation and he groans wrapping his arms tighter around your thighs.

You move your hips against his face and he shifts his mouth to collect your juices on his tongue before moving back up to your clit. You fight how your thighs want to close around his head but he only presses himself further into you at the shaking against his ears.

You feel him at your entrance, stretching you slowly with two fingers as he continues his work on your clit. He curls his digits into you and your hips buck at the sensation.

“That’s my good girl, fuck yourself on my tongue.” he moans into your folds, flattening his tongue for you to use. He picks up the pace of his hand and you rut against his mouth. The sounds you’ve been swallowing down flowing out of your lips before you can stop them.

“Jungkook, fuck!” you whine and he scissors his fingers faster to bring you to your rapidly approaching peak. Your walls clench and your rhythm falters, he wraps his lips around your clit sucking as he does. Your orgasm rips through you and onto his fingers with a loud moan.

“You’re so beautiful.” he says breathless, he almost sounds amazed that someone can look so beautiful when they cum.

He quickly climbs over you, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand and reconnecting your lips as soon as he reaches your face, he can’t get enough of your lips and you moan at your taste on his mouth.

He slips his pants down his legs, and lines himself up with your entrance, gasping at your wetness on his painfully hard cock. His eyes widen “I didn’t bring a-”

“I’m on the pill.” you reassure, grinding up against his dick.

“Thank fuck.” he sighs, pushing his cock in as he does. Your eyes close at the stretch he’s providing. He pushes in rather slowly savoring every small clench and twitch your walls give him.

He’s quick to pick up the pace seeing as you were more than happy when he was rough earlier. You moan at how well he fucks into you, you hold onto his arms as you’re afraid you’ll float away if you don’t anchor yourself. He smacks his hips against you harder and you gasp at how deep he is, trying your best not to yelp.

He wraps his arm around your back and takes a handful of your hair, yanking against your sore scalp until your chin is pointing at the ceiling, and you can’t contain your moans with your neck so open. “Don’t hold back, sweetheart. Give me all those beautiful sounds.” he says into your ear before sinking his teeth into your neck.

With your new position you’re a moaning mess underneath him and you feel him smirk against your skin as he delivers particularly hard thrusts, the sound of your moans and slapping skin filling the room..

He continues his relentless pace, watching you in awe. “Such a pretty slut.” he groans. “Look at you falling apart on my cock.” you can only whimper in response. He rubs your clit so he can watch your eyes roll back, doing his best to ignore his approaching orgasm so he can feel you cum again on his cock.

“I’m- fucking- I’m gonna-.” you try to warn doing your best to keep your voice steady.

“Good girl, cum for me, beautiful.” he soothes, lacing his finger with yours, mumbling praises into your ear as you clench around him, his hips work hard to keep their pace through your orgasm.

With his not far behind, he thrusts faster finally letting go. He reconnects your lips, the kiss hot and messy as his end is finally in sight.

His hips stutter. “I love you.” He breathes as he releases into you, falling against you shortly after and you laugh, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes while he catches his breath.

“I love you, too.” you whisper and he hums holding you tightly.

“I could get used to hearing that.” he smiles brightly, before he kisses you slowly. — “So…” you begin after the two of you are showered. Jungkook is sitting on the end of your bed ruffling his damp hair. “So?” he perks up, taking your hands in his. “Are you sure you want to do this?” you say squeezing his hands, still a little nervous despite the several ‘I love you’s and how your heart pounds when you look in eyes. Still a little nervous that if you hold on too tight he’ll slip through your fingers. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” he says leaning into your touch, and his words calm your racing heart.

“Okay.” you smile brightly, and he can’t help but mirror you.

“Hey.” he says, making sure you’re giving him your full attention, and you meet his gaze. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” — You stand next to Jungkook, fingers laced tightly together, as you stare down the familiar dirt driveway.

“You ready?” he asks, still looking straight ahead at the chicken wire fence.

“No.”

“Yeah, me either.”

He squeezes your hand in his as you walk through the dirt and into the old house, same as you left it. You walk past the living room into the furthest bedroom where Yoongi’s mark is most prominent in the house. You stop at the corner where he carved that heart in the wall that, besides some dust, looks just like the day he put it there.

“Hi Hyung,” Jungkook begins. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to talk to you in a long time.” he looks a tad nervous as if he’ll be reprimanded, he squeezes your hand and you rub your thumb over his knuckles. “I found her,” he says, sounding more sure of himself. “And I wanted you to meet her. Are you surprised?”

“We are too.” you breathe out a laugh. “Hey Yoongs,” your voice is a little shaky. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, I just didn’t know how.” you breathe. “I miss you, and I want you to know that I’m happy.” you reassure, remembering how he always checked. “We’re happy.” you put your other hand on Jungkook’s.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.” He adds, placing a kiss on your temple.

“And I’ll take care of him.” you say, and you both put your hand on the heart gently. That final breath that was taken from you those years ago returns and your lungs finally feel full again, and you open your mouth to speak.

“I love you, angel.”

————————

A/N -> Hello! I hope you liked it!!! I’m really proud of this one, feel more than free to send me an ask with your thoughts, I’d love to know what you thought. <3

Tag List -> @ancailinaerach @kpopfanfictionhoes @bunnyboyenthusiast @singularity-mp3

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thistangledbrain · 4 years ago

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I think I’m going to add Day 28 a day early, because I just finished it. This one took me 3 days to write...I had to keep putting it down. I think because meltdowns are our strongest reminders that we are NOT like other people, and that can be hard to accept sometimes, especially when we’re trying so hard to blend in or go along. Also, meltdowns are when we are in a raw, illogical space - which is highly unsavory, to put it mildly. We are vulnerable. Naked. Stuck. Entirely in fight or flight mode - or both. For as baffling and upsetting as you find it to be - trust me, we aren’t having a good time, either.

*takes a deep breath*

Ok, here goes.

Day 28

“Dealing with meltdowns”

Well, this one’s fun. (sarcasm)

I’m glad I got a few days ahead, because this one is hard to think about, so I keep putting it down and then coming back to it. I asked my youngest some questions, but he didn’t want to talk about it, either.

We hate meltdowns. It feels like the whole world is ending/everything is crashing down at once. I don’t CARE if what triggered it was “small” - all the repressed stuff we’ve been trying to squash comes crashing in like the fuckin Kool-Aid Man through a half open door.

But, I’ll start with how you can help.

First and foremost: DO NOT TOUCH!!! NO! BAD NEUROTYPICAL!! NO TOUCH!! (One exception: if we’re trying to blindly bolt from our environment. STOP US.)

I know this is completely counterintuitive to typical human nature, especially with young children. You want to scoop them up and cuddle them and make them feel safe. Sorry, but you just did the opposite of that - you freaked us out even more, and your need to touch and comfort is entirely yours, in that moment. Let us come to you if we want physical comfort - when we do need that, we can be like clingy little monkeys (and if an Autie child clings to you during a meltdown, you *honor* that shit & throw all the loving calm energy you can out there for them - do not say anything or try and talk them out of it - just let them cling to you and cry. Literally - JUST be there). I will say, AFTER the meltdown, we will possibly need some reassurance and kindness, if you can manage it. We will sometimes allow holding when we don’t feel good, with our absolute closest humans, but generally we really want you to just be there but not touch, until we’re ready. Lots of us don’t really want you to leave altogether, at least not for long - even if it seems like we do.

If you want to help, start with keeping your energy (your “vibe”) as calm, gentle, and peaceful as possible. Try not to get frantic or frustrated. If we’re at home or in a familiar space, do things that make our space feel better - drop the blinds/make it dark, place our weighted blanket over us/find our stuffy if we have one, light a candle or burn sage/waft a favorite calming scent, like lavender. If you say anything, use a soft, gentle voice - try not to talk too much...but if you sing, that can be very soothing. Sing very softly - I don’t know why, but soft singing and rocking (if you can stay on key...sorry but it’s grating when the tune is off!) can go a long way towards calming. Things like this can head a total meltdown off or stop it in its tracks, sometimes. Or get us out into an environment that makes us happy (like a nature trail)...but if we’re past a 4 (I’ll explain in a moment), we might not be willing to.

If we’re in a school setting, get us out from under those GOD DAMNED FLUORESCENT LIGHTS...YOU might not pick up on their eye-and-head hurting flicker, but we can. They suck even when we’re in a GOOD mood. See if you can get us into a darker room, or at least one without those &$@!;!! lights. Small things like bright lights, or sounds that usually only cause mild annoyance can become HUGE - for example, my dogs. In my best moments, the sound of them licking themselves will set my teeth on edge - if I’m trying to come out of a meltdown, those sounds - or almost any sounds, really, except white noise stuff - are infuriating. I hate to say that, but 🤷🏻‍♀️ it’s just true. All your sensory shit is dialed to 11 and someone broke the knob off - there is NO “just deal with” whatever, at that point. We aren’t dealing with SHIT right then, so removal to a quiet spot is pretty damn important.

Try to distract or divert us before we’re over a 4 on a 1-10 scale, though, and absolutely before we start looping (the suggestions so far are for when the meltdown is in/almost in full swing - and I’m only speaking for older auties and into adulthood, here, though most of this stuff helps littles, too).

Let me explain “escalation scale” and “looping” - with the help of my husband, who recognizes patterns of escalation as well (in us, and in dogs ☺️). “Looping” is his word. It means no matter what you say, we keep looping back to what’s got us upset/how much we hate ourselves right then/all the bad feelings/past hurts that are piling on to the current problem. You’ll pull us out of it for a second, but then we loop right back to it. Ideally, you want to intervene before we get to the looping, which is about a 7+ on the escalation scale. Once we’re at a 7 and above....we’re consumed by it, and it gets much harder to diffuse. Think of the 1-10 scale like this: 1 is calm, 10 is completely nuclear - above a 7, almost nothing will distract us, almost nothing will divert us except bodily removal from the situation/environment & then leaving us the fuck alone (maybe figuratively but not literally - it depends on your Autie) for a while until we exhaust ourselves one way or another. If you can intervene and remove/distract right around a level 4 - which is right when you start to notice someone is getting quite agitated, you’ve got a good chance of heading the meltdown off at the pass. But if we’re already looping - repeating phrases over and over, looping back to our most upsetting feelings no matter what you say or do, sometimes while rocking or banging, you’re way too late. Now we have to ride it out together...as safely as we can manage. Now you need to make things dark, private, and as calming as you can, if possible. Or just get us the fuck out of the situation that set us off. That helps, too...obviously. I’ll tee up a possible scenario: you’re at an amusement park with your Autie. WHOA stimulation, right? You’re all having a fab time, but suddenly your Autie starts to cry or get angry or otherwise exhibit “I am SUPER OVERWHELMED” energy. 🤷🏻‍♀️ It’s just a lot to process, even when all the things are pretty fun. So, find a quiet place in a park like area to chill. Grab food from a stand - or go back out to your car and sit and eat a packed lunch or have some snacks. Don’t make a big fucking deal about it, either. Just “oh okay, I think now’s a good time for a quiet break”. Keep in mind all autistics are living in a sensory rich environment, and it can get mega overwhelming sometimes. It’s not always bad shit that sets us off.

I’ve mentioned in prior posts how it can feel like someone else is driving the car (controlling the emotions), while we sit in the back seat and scream and hit and try to get them to stop the fucking car and let us out...it’s in these moments that I TOTALLY understand how doctors got autism and schizophrenia mixed up, in years past. At least, that ripping in half is what my youngest son and I feel. YOU’RE frustrated with us right then? BRUH. WE are so fucking pissed and frustrated and upset that we can’t stop the car, too. You’re not helping if we know you are frustrated, either - that’s why I mention keeping your “vibe” as level and gentle and “no biggie” as possible.

I have some tips for head bangers and stuff, that I won’t include in this post but I’m happy to tell you what I’ve done/what can work.

Basically? “Dealing with” meltdowns is just....TRY SHIT. If you’re an Autie trying to manage your own, play around with what helps you calm down. It could be a brisk walk away from anything human, time under your weighted blanket, time in a dark warm shower or tub (idk about you, but in this house - water soothes nearly anything, most of the time), holding your pet, screaming all the cuss words you know into the void lol ....and the same methods might not work all the time (I was “feeling unsubstantiated feelings” the other day, and got into the shower before they overwhelmed me - a usual go to - but this time, the water felt disgusting, being wet just made it all worse. It surprised even me, but you gotta roll with it & try something else). But try as hard as you can to do something that will soothe you. Or find a safe place to let it all out, without hurting yourself. Pro tip, though: do not add alcohol. It not only takes away all the barriers you’ve probably put up to keep from going completely off the deep end, but it also magnifies all the bad feelings. I am, however, a big fan now of smoking a little green. I started trying that about 3 years ago and oh my god where has this been my whole adult life. I can’t take antidepressants or even most anxiety meds...but I can smoke. I use carefully chosen calming and pain relieving indica strains - sativa can sometimes make me feel more anxious. (YMMV)

If you’re the Emotional Support Human™️ of a melting down Autie, the same applies. Just try stuff. Trust me you will know if said Autie finds your efforts upsetting. It’s ok to want to talk to us about it afterwards, in a constructive way. Once we’ve calmed down, we know you’re trying to help. We’re raw and exhausted immediately after a meltdown though (meltdowns usually lead to shutdowns), so give us a little time, maybe. Or maybe not - maybe your Autie will be in a more communicative frame of mind, since it’s fresh. You won’t know unless you ask, maybe like “could we talk about this, or would you like some time to be quiet?” (Again - gentle tone and energy is important.)

Meltdowns are hard for me to write about because these days, they’re super rare, but when they happen, they’re ...well, brutal. Like really, really bad. I had one a few years ago that I think terrified my husband. We were in the car. I was getting so upset (screaming, beating my fists and probably thrashing a little) that he had to stop the car. Luckily we were in the boonies, but...not long after he stopped the car, I attempted to bolt. I felt trapped in between his efforts to soothe and the small confines of the car, and just wanted to bolt. Run. Far away. There was ZERO thought of personal safety at that point. His efforts to contain me were met with violence. I will be ashamed of that for the rest of my life - I don’t even have words for what an amazing human my husband is, and the LAST thing my non-melting-down brain wants, is to hurt him. But all I could think about was doing whatever needed to be done to escape this hell I was in. God. Just writing about it hurts, and I feel fresh shame. I’m telling you all this, so that you understand that *in that moment*, we are a cornered and overwhelmed animal, who wants to just bite bite bite or run away (fight/flight). The things we usually cling to - logic and reason - don’t exist right then. Nothing is logical - which actually adds to our upset.

There may be a time when your Autie feels like this too - and that’s one time where you DO need to intervene even if we don’t like it/hate it/get furious with you for it. If we are trying to hurt ourselves or run, do what you need to to not allow that. I truly believe this is how many young Autie kids get lost - we were upset and we just bolted blindly. We don’t react well to you stopping us....but it’s necessary.

There’s a moment in the Disney movie “Soul”, where 22 becomes a lost soul. Her little bright blue body is engulfed by swirling blackness, and inside that blackness is every bad or negative thing that’s ever been said to her. She starts looping - “I’m not good enough”, “I have no purpose”, over and over and over. This is what a meltdown feels like. In the movie, her mentor quietly hands her a small token reminder that starts to make the blackness melt away - it’s not the token that “society” thinks she should have, it’s a personal one. Shouting at her, blah blahblah talking, trying to reason with her makes her hiss and run away - but *quietly* handing her a tactile object that means something to her, brings her back to the present, and is what breaks the looping.

Here’s the clip of when he breaks through her meltdown. I hope it explains things in a way I’m struggling to. I’ll end with that...if the subtitles distract you, I apologize, I can’t find a “clean clip”.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=nmapZFDUkBk&t=41s

#asd #autism #autistic #acceptance #awareness #actuallyautistic

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blackcoffeeandblankpagess · 5 years ago

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NOLA marathon recap!

-now that it’s over I know it all worked out but in retrospect new orleans was a horrible place to pick to run a marathon lol the race itself was great but it’s definitely a party city and especially because jared’s parents are here with us (and not running) it kinda felt like we were missing out on the full experience (for instance last night we were at a jazz club but had to leave early and didn’t get drinks, etc. but we still have 24 hours of fun!)

-I was STRESSIN about what to eat yesterday/this morning because I really did not practice that while training because I just wanted to live my life and not worry about eating a certain way for a long run every weekend (plus on a normal run its no biggie to stop to use the bathroom) so I was feeling very ahhhhh!!!! yesterday, again, also because jared’s parents were here and don’t understand my running related insanity like jared does lol

-so yesterday I ate: bagel w/ cc and strawberries, pineapple

-oyster/shrimp po boy (I mean we are in new orleans) with fries

-a glass of white wine, shared fancy brussel sprouts with the table, cacio e pepe pasta (which was basically like less creamy mac and cheese and I was worried might be a bad decision but oh well) and a couple bites of a dessert we all shared (only recording this for future marathon reference)

-generally I don’t eat before morning runs but when I have all the time in the world (aka over winter break) I like to eat breakfast, poop, and then run and that was always when I had my best runs, I felt conflicted over whether or not to get up early to eat before the race because even though technically I have eaten breakfast before runs I have never intentionally woken up early with the explicit goal of eating before a long run PLUS when I ate (5am) here it was 3am my (CA) time and I was v worried about not being able to poop and then having to run feeling bloated and bleh

-but I decided to eat oatmeal and I DID poop (aren’t you all glad to know?) and that was well and good

-I had been wavering between my race plan because half of me was like “find the 4 hour pacer and just run a little bit faster at the end and you will break four” since my nyc time was 4:12 and my main goal was to break 4 but THEN my ego jumped in (that’s always good!) and was like nah nah nah nah nah but I want to go FASTER. Honestly I had NO idea what pace I could maintain for 26.2. I have been running most of my runs VERY slowly (for me) at like 10-12min pace but then I also have runs where I’ve run 6-7-8 pace (although short distance) and felt good so I was like uh uh uh because I didn’t want to finish feeling like I had more in me but I DEFINITELY didn’t want to burn out SO I decided I would find the 3:50 pacer and run the first half with them and then reassess (also, I generally run a race pace about 30 seconds faster than my usual pace comfortably because adrenaline so even though I thought the 3:50 aka 8:46 pace might be a little bit pushing it I was like welp I can always pull back if it feels like too much in the beginning)

-anyway! got to the start, found the 3:50 pacer, decided I would glue myself to her hip forever.

-THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY DAY: I don’t know how many of you have heard but last week in oklahoma a driver hit a group of runners from a highschool xc team while they were on a run and killed 2 of them and injured 4 others, I read that headline the other day and was like holy shit. THEN! In the starting corral I was next to this guy and he asked me if I had heard about that and I was like actually yes and HE IS A RUNNER ON THAT XC TEAM AND HE SAID HE WAS THERE TODAY TO RUN IN MEMORY OF HIS TEAMMATES WHO WERE KILLED and I was like holy shit you are incredible and that’s amazing and also I’m so sorry that that reason for being here exists in the first place but like WHAT! small world

-anyway! the pacer’s name was kim and she was from new orleans and we talked a bunch and kinda formed a little 3:50 squad and all got to know eachother and it was GREAT I 100% plan to run with a pacer in the future it was a game changer and I honestly believe I owe my race to it. It forced me to hold back in the beginning and hang on at the end and took all of the thinking and calculations out of it because I knew if I just hung onto her I would get there in time

-the first half of the race was nice and in the downtown area but the second half was ROUGH. It was along the lake and it was WINDY AS SHIT! And there were a bunch of bridges and even though the rest of the course was flat they were...tough. Around 18 I was like ok starting to enter the pain cave and then at 20 I was like ahhhhhh

-But I had mentally prepared myself for the mental battle of the race *see alexi pappas quote on hand* and I told myself to just stop thinking and keep moving forward, before the race even started I knew my biggest challenge in this race would be my brain, not my fitness level

-But then at 21 I started to think about dropping off the pace group because another 5 miles at that pace just seemed so. hard. But I hung on

-And then at 22 I was like ok no I need to walk for a sec my stomach did NOT feel good, so I stopped to walk on a WINDY FKING BRIDGE and then I started dry heaving into the wind but had basically nothing in my stomach I guess and I was like well this is bad but I feel validated in my need to walk for a sec!

-Miles 22-24 were just fucking hard. I had a super bad cramp and was in the pain cave and honestly walked a fair bit and the whole time I was like bitch we are not having an nyc repeat!

-I knew that I had run the first 22 miles fast enough that if I just kept. moving. I would finish under 4. Even though my sub 3:50 ship had sailed I was like YOU HAVE COME TOO FAR TO LET THIS GET AWAY FROM YOU.

-I SHUFFLED mile 25 but I was like if you can just run, even your slowest possible pace, you will make it.

-And then there was a HUGE BRIDGE HILL that I had forgotten about just past 25 and I was like holy shitTtTtTt

-But then I had .7 to go and I KNEW I was going to make it

-And the whole time I was just like “Danielle just keep fucking moving. Just get there under 4 hours. You can take 500 years off of running after this. You can get a fancy drink with dinner tonight. Just keep fucking moving.”

-And I did just that

-As I approached the finish I looked at the seconds on my watch because I honestly felt like I had NOTHING left to give so I was like ok how close am I to the next minute and I was at like 3.52:20 or something and I was like oh we HAVE this

And then it was over! And I am so happy with the result! And I found jared and his parents and it was the best I could have asked for and honestly, I respect the marathon so much more. I feel like after nyc because my pacing screwed me over I was like pft I can run a WAY faster marathon if I’m just smart! I just didn’t run that one intelligently! (which like yes true BUT) but today I was like fuck no marathons are just HARD. That’s the tea!

So! 3:52. 20 minute PR. Honestly not the best training cycle. Can’t wait to see what I’m capable of when I really give it my all.

#personalposts #runs #nola marathon #myfood #nola #la

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unloveable-unreachable · 5 years ago

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You’re the One My Heart Wants- Chapter 9

Word Count: 3,864

Warnings: Swearing & Mentions of blood

Author: Me

A/N: Alright guys here’s the first chapter of the week, the next one will be posted on my birthday on Saturday (or at least that’s the plan).

Two Weeks Later

Headlines:

~~USWNT take on New Zealand after their win against South Africa in their send-off game line up.~~

~~Defending World Cup Champions are showing great promise throughout their friendly matches, per usual.~~

Y/N POV

Game days always make me nervous no matter who we play. The amount of stress our team is put under is ridiculous because we’re always expected to play the very best and always pull out a win. Don’t get me wrong, we want the same thing every match. We put in a lot of work all year to be the very best, it’s almost like we don’t get an off season. We don’t complain though, we love our job. We get to do things others don’t like we get to be on the world stage to show everyone what a force our team is. What people don’t know is that our wins aren’t as easy as we make them look. Our job is hard work, I think it was Tobin who said “Soccer is a work of art”, and she’s not wrong. It takes a lot of hard work and training to get to our level of play, and it takes even more work and training to stay at that level. We all love the game more than anyone, and we show it out on the pitch every match. We’re the biggest badasses you’ll ever meet, but if you were to ask any of us about game day more than half of us would say that game day is nerve-wracking.

We made it through our match against South Africa pretty easily, but I’m already focused on our match against New Zealand today. “You’ll do great, kiddo,” a smiling Ali says, pulling me out of my thoughts. I give her a soft smile, still pretty nervous as always. “Yeah, she’s right Y/N. You’ll do great like you always do,” Christen says with a supportive look. I give her a sympathetic smile, and she returns one of her bright grins. I felt bad because I was a starter and she wasn’t, she deserved it more than me. Jill doesn’t see the potential of our team and it really shows, especially when she starts throwing us in random positions. Fucking dumb if you ask me. Christen was faster than me, don’t get me wrong I’m pretty fast but she was definitely faster, and she’s been known to produce more goals than me. I’ve seen her stats compared to mine, they don’t even come close. I guess Jill is just trying to give me playing time before the World Cup. In any case, I’ll prove myself out on the pitch every chance I get. “Thanks, guys,” I say to them before I finish lacing up my cleats and adjusting my socks. Ready to go. Jill comes in and gives us a pep talk, going over the game plan yet again. “Alright, ladies 5 minutes till you need to be in line in the tunnel. Let’s go,” Jill says as she follows Dawn out of the locker room. When I start heading out with everyone, I’m suddenly pulled back by someone. What the fuck? I turn to see who would be holding me back from lining up, and of course it was Alex. “Good luck out there. I know you’ll do great like you always do,” she says with a big grin. I smile back and say, “You just like seeing me out on the pitch with you, creep.” She lets out a goofy laugh causing me to laugh as well, while I pull her in for a quick kiss. “Good luck to you too, Al. Kick ass out there like I know you can,” I say after pulling away from our kiss. She laughs again and gives me a smirk and a wink as we head out to the tunnel.

The match is really one-sided after the first half, we’re up 4-0, and that’s where we still are after the 60th minute. I’ve been trying to get on goal, but I’m constantly being covered by two defenders. One is really pissing me off because she won’t get off my ass, fucking bitch. It was irritating the fuck out of me, to say the least. If I’m going to show Jill what I can do then I need to get a touch on the ball, like now. It’s the 70th minute before I finally see an opening. Sammy’s pushing the ball up the pitch towards me, but she sends a long ball to Alex instead. I can still see my opening and I’m fucking taking it. I move on goal, and Alex sees me before sending in a cross to the box. I jump up with one of the New Zealand players, the same one that’s been on my ass the whole match, and I manage to get my head on it first. I watch the ball while it goes towards the goal as I come down to the ground. Then, out of nowhere, I feel a sharp pain in my face as I hit the ground, losing sight of the ball and knocking the wind out of me. “Jesus...Fucking...Christ,” I groan while I lay on the pitch, with my eyes still closed. I hear a whistle in the background, but I still haven’t opened my eyes. “Ref! She punched her in the face on purpose! The ball wasn’t even near them anymore when she did it! Card her, now!” I hear someone yell, but I can’t tell who it is. When I finally open my eyes, I’m surrounded by my teammates. I groan as I sit up, my head pounding like crazy, and they all make sounds of disgust. “What? It can’t be that bad,” I say as I reach up towards my nose. I make eye contact with Alex, who brings her hand to her mouth with a look of worry, before looking down at my hand. Blood, and a lot of it. Fucking great. It doesn’t take long for the medics to come, and it doesn’t take too long after that for them to pull me out of the match. “Hey, wait,” I say as they lead me to the locker room, “Did I score at least?” They laugh and tell me that yes I did in fact score. “Sweet,” I say with a goofy grin as we reach the training room.

We won 5-0, but I missed the rest of the match because I was stuck with the medical team. Fuck these injuries, seriously. I’m fucking tired of missing out on playing. Jill’s going to start thinking I’m fragile and won’t put me in a match again. I’m not fragile in any way whenever it comes to soccer, this is fucking aggravating. “It’s broken, but not too bad. So that’s good, but you’ll have to be out for about two weeks. You won’t miss any of the World Cup,” they say before telling me to rest. Thank fucking god. If I missed any World Cup action I would’ve been more pissed off than I am now. When they leave I lay back on the table and place the ice pack on my nose, trying to think of something other than the pain I was experiencing. I lay there in silence for a moment, and close my eyes. The door swings open maybe 5 minutes later, causing me to jump at the sound. I sit up to see Dawn trying to keep a lot of my teammates out of the room. “I can’t let you in, she needs to rest,” Dawn says, struggle clear in her voice. “I don’t care, Dawn. That’s my kid in there and I have to check on her to see if she’s okay. So either you move or I move you,” a very angry Ali Krieger says. I laugh, “It’s okay, Dawn. Let them in,” She gives me a look before stepping back to reveal Ali, Ash, Pinoe, Sonny, Lindsey, Sammy, Kelley, Allie and hiding in the back of the group was my girlfriend.

“Hey, guys. What’s up? Why the long faces?” I say with a laugh. Ali comes over and pulls me in a hug before punching me in the shoulder. “Ouch! What the hell Ali?!” I yell while rubbing my arm. “That’s for making me worried, and then making a joke about it,” she says. “Like I meant to get punched in the face,” I say as I roll my eyes. Ash laughs as she pats my head, and then takes a look at my nose, along with all the other goofs in the room. “Damnnnnn, that’s a pretty nose. How long are you out for?” Sonny asks while lifting my chin to get a ‘better’ look at my swollen nose. “Two weeks. Let me go, Sonny,” I answer, trying to pull away from her grasp. “Only two weeks?? Based on all that blood gushing out of there I thought you’d miss more,” Sammy says with a shocked look. “You know Y/N wouldn’t let them make her miss more than one game, Sammy. Our best friend is pretty hard-headed, well except for when she needed those stitches a month ago,” Lindsey says with a laugh. That causes Sonny to start laughing her ass off, along with Kelley and Pinoe. Jesus, why did I let them in here? Is it too late to call Dawn back in the room to haul them out? I roll my eyes while they all ask more questions, make more jokes, and congratulate me on my goal. But I don’t listen to them, all my attention was on Alex. She hadn’t left her spot on the back wall or said anything since she got here, she just stared at everyone else asking all their questions. When our eyes finally meet, she gives me a soft look with a soft smile which I returned. But I couldn’t help but notice that she looked upset, over what I don’t know. She just leaned against the wall and watched the chaos in the room. “Okay,” I say, gaining everyone's attention, “Someone help me to the locker room so I can change out of these bloody clothes.” Kelley was the first to grab my arm to help me off the table. “I’ve got dibs on helping Biggie Smalls!” she yells as we headed to the locker room.

The bus ride back to the hotel was weird, to say the least. Normally, Alex would sit next to me on the bus but she was sitting with Allie, and Kelley was sitting by me while my moms sat in front of us. It was weird because Alex still hadn’t talked to me since the beginning of the match, and that’s never happened before. I asked Kelley if she knew what was wrong with her, but of course she didn’t know shit. I sent Alex a text after the game to see what was wrong with her, but she hasn’t looked at her phone. Like I said, this bus ride was weird. When we finally reach the hotel, I head up to my room hoping to talk to her, but I guess I beat her to the room because she wasn’t here. I decided to wait for her before heading back downstairs for dinner. Jesus, where the fuck is she? Almost 45 minutes pass before I finally hear the door to the room open. Alex came in and set her things down on the table, still not looking at me. “So, are you done avoiding me or ignoring me or whatever it is you’re doing?” I ask, causing her to stop whatever she’s doing. “I’m not avoiding you or ignoring you,” she whispers. “Then what’s wrong, Alex?” I ask, confusion obvious in my tone. She sighs and stands in her spot for a moment before turning to face me. I could see how upset she was just by looking in her eyes, something was bothering her. “You scared me today...When I got to you after she punched you, your eyes weren’t open. They were closed for what felt like forever, Y/N,” she starts with her voice getting shaky and tears forming in her eyes, “Then when you sat up you were just bleeding so much, and after you got off the pitch all I wanted to do was follow you but Kelley wouldn’t let me. Throughout the rest of the match, all I could think about was getting to you.”

I look at her with wide eyes because I didn’t realize any of this. How fucking clueless am I?? Of course my girlfriend is going to be worried about me when I get hurt in a match. What a dumbass. I get up from the bed and stepped towards her, waiting for permission to touch her. When she nods with teary eyes, I pull her into a tight hug causing her to sob quietly. “I’m so sorry, Al. I’m okay, see? I’m up and moving. I’ll just have to sit out for the next friendly, but other than that I’m okay. I promise, don’t cry. I’m okay,” I say while rubbing her back. She pulls away from our hug and wipes the stray tears away from her cheeks. When she calms down, she gives me a smirk. That damn smirk. “Okay, Y/N. If you say so. I just don’t like seeing you hurt,” she says. “So, you aren’t mad at me or hate me, correct?” I ask with a goofy smile. “No, I’m not mad at you and I could never hate you, you goof,” she says while rolling her eyes at my question. “Good to know,” I say, leaning down to kiss my girlfriend. She kisses me back with as much passion as she can while being careful of my nose, bringing her hands to my face. I rest my hands on her waist, pulling her closer. I take a step back towards the bed, sitting down whenever my legs hit the mattress. Alex climbs up into my lap while she catches her breath, a smile clear across her face. I smile at her before kissing her again. My hand sneaks its way up the back of her shirt, feeling every one of her muscles with the pads of my fingers. My other hand finds its way to her thigh. She tightens her arms around my neck as I rub her leg. Before things got too heated I pull away, leaving her looking upset. “We should stop. We have training in the morning, and you have more media to get through,” I say, trying to fight the urge to keep going. She lets out a sigh, then nods her head. “You’re a tease, you know that?” she says with a smile before kissing my forehead while getting off my lap. I fall back on the bed trying to slow my heart rate. When I sit up to look at her coming out of the bathroom, my heart stops. So much for that. All thoughts of dinner are gone and I’m definitely not mad about it. Alex was wearing one of my sweatshirts and a pair of shorts, she was a beauty and she was all mine. I set my alarm as she got in bed, cuddling up next to me as soon as I laid back down. Soon we both fall asleep, in our little bubble of happiness.

8 Days Later

Alex’s POV

“Y/N, wake up,” I say while poking her cheek. That doesn’t do anything, per usual. This was our every morning, well our every morning since we started sleeping in the same bed every night. I love getting to sleep next to her, she made me feel safe in her arms and it helped me sleep throughout the night. But honestly, I swear my girlfriend was the heaviest sleeper I’ve ever met. She looked peaceful while she slept though, well besides her black and blue nose she was still sporting today. It wasn’t as bad as it has been, which is really great because that means she can get back on the pitch pretty soon. We all missed her being out there with us. I watched her sleep for a few more moments before I see her eyes slowly open. “Good morning, sleepy head,” I say causing her to give me a pretty cute, sheepish smile. “Morning, babe,” Y/N says before snuggling more into me. I laugh while trying to push her off of me. “We have to get up, Y/N. We have media all day today and we can’t miss it,” I say in a semi-serious tone. I have to admit, she was being really fucking cute right now but this wasn’t a day to act like this. “Noooo, I wanna stay in bed with you all day. It’s not fair, I’m injured. I should get to spend the day in bed with my girlfriend all day,” Y/N mumbles against my shirt. She has a point, I’d much rather spend the day in bed with her, too. She finally groans, giving up of course, and gets up to get ready. We all have to dress the same, blue shirt with our gray sweats. Y/N looked like she was hating life when we left the room, probably because she hit her nose while getting ready to leave. Poor thing.

The whole team still doesn’t know about my relationship with Y/N, only a few actually knew. I want to tell all of them but I’m always being drug off into more and more media and that keeps me from having the time to tell them. I was ready for them to know, I just needed a good time where all of us would be together. When we meet the group downstairs, Y/N goes to find Ali or Dawn for some pain medicine. I hated that she was still in pain over the whole thing and that I couldn’t really do anything to help. I go looking for Kelley and Allie before we have to get in the vans to head to Good Morning, America and the Twitter Headquarters. “How’s Y/N doing?” Kelley asks when I join her and Allie in the lobby. I look over to where my girlfriend was, laughing at something Ash said like usual. I missed that laugh over the past few days. When I’m not around I miss her and when I’m here she’s normally sleeping or with Krashlyn or her friends. I wasn’t mad that she was doing all of that because I know she hates when I’m gone all day with obligations to the team, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t miss her because I always do. “She’s doing better. I haven’t been able to be around her that much, but she says she feels better,” I say to Kelley. “You miss her on media days, don’t you?” Kelley asks with a look of concern. I sigh and look at her and Allie’s concerned faces, “Yes, but I can’t do anything about it. She knows about my responsibilities to the team. I can’t do anything about missing her. I always get to see her when I come back so that helps.” They nod to what I said. “Well I can do something about that,” Kelley says, “Hey, Biggie Smalls! Come on, you’re riding with us.” I look at Kelley in shock as my girlfriend follows us to the van.

When we get to Good Morning, America we’re greeted by a whole bunch of media so that means I can’t be as close to my girlfriend as I’d like to. Y/N seems okay though since she’s hanging out with her best friends, and also since she’s cracking jokes with Tobin and Christen. It isn’t until later when I finally get to stand next to her while we’re backstage waiting to walk out. “You okay?” I ask her since she looks like she’s in pain. “Yeah. I’m fine, babe. Nothing cuddles won’t fix later,” she answers with a smirk followed by a wink. “You’re a child,” I say back with a laugh. “Behave yourself, kiddo” Ash whispers to Y/N from behind her as we walk out on stage. The show was going really well, until one of the last questions that was directed towards me. “Alex, since your divorce from Servando Carrasco, have you met someone else?” Of all things to ask a soccer team. What has the world come to? Honestly, priorities people. Not wanting to avoid the question I say, “Umm, yes I am seeing someone. Don’t worry, they’re a soccer player too. But we’d like to keep our relationship private at this time.” That seemed to be a good enough answer for them, as they went on to ask Pinoe about our goal in the tournament and women’s soccer growth. I glance over my shoulder to look at my girlfriend, who meets my gaze. She gives me a small nod and a smile, I smile back and return my focus to what Pinoe was saying. We spent about two hours at the Twitter Headquarters after leaving Good Morning, America before heading back to the hotel to get our things for the plane ride to New Jersey. We mostly went through tweets and answered some polls for the fans, and we played some foosball made up of the whole team. It was great getting to see all of us relax and have a little fun outside of the pitch for once. We really enjoyed these type of days, it allowed us to sort of relax and have fun without having to worry about training. I watched Y/N throughout the day, seeing her smile more than she has in the past week. She lit up whenever she interacted with everyone, and her damn eyes were the light smoke color again. Fucking beautiful, no lie.

“Today was looonnnggg,” Y/N groans loudly next to me. We just to the hotel in New Jersey, and we had about an hour before we had to go out to dinner with the team. I was sitting next to Y/N on the bed, rubbing her back. “I know, baby. How’s your nose? Do you want any pain medicine?” I ask. She rolls over and gives me big puppy dog eyes and a pout, “It still hurts pretty bad. Could I have some medicine, please?” I smile at how cute she was being, give her a quick kiss and head over to my bag for something to help with her pain. When I turn to give her the medicine, she’s already asleep of course. She sleeps more than anyone I knew, she’s worse than Kelley and that’s saying something. I set the medicine on the bedside table and set an alarm to let us know when we needed to get ready for dinner. I get in bed next to her, pulling the covers up and kissing her cheek. As I’m getting comfortable next to her, she cuddles into my chest and mumbles something loud enough for me to hear.

“I love you, Alex.”

To Be Continued

#alex morgan #alex morgan x reader #alex morgan imagine #alex morgan imagines #kelley o’hara #ali krieger #ashlyn harris #krashlyn #emily sonnett #sam mewis #lindsey horan #uswnt #uswnt imagines #nwsl #nwsl imagines #woso #woso imagine #You're the One My Heart Wants

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thequietmanno1 · 4 years ago

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Thelreads, Vigilantes 2, Replies Part 3

1) “Oh no wait, they already said that the drug makes people go YOLO, it kinda makes sense you’re that hellbent for “revenge”.”- Sanity for power is never an effective bargain. When will people learn?

2) “And now that aizawa is there its time to fuck off after the toyman and his case full of not-drugs.”- In other words, they handle the crime-fighting, Aizawa handles the clean-up and paperwork from processing villains afterwards. Knuckleduster must be over the moon to be able to leave taking out the trash to the pros, since that crap’s troublesome once the punching dies down.

3) “Oh so that’s where Dino Dan was at? I thought he was back there, about to get his ass kicked by Aizawa, but no, he went after the third member of the group.”-Since the other two were cornered the ground-based Koichi, he’s putting his new ability to fly to good use by chasing the target his new powers give him the best chance of catching. Like, Koichi zips around on the ground at knee level, so it’ll be hard for a flier to get hold of him with fly-bys.

4) “IS THAT THE THING FROM THE START?

WE’RE DEALING WITH IT NOW? I THOUGHT IT WAS GOING TO BE SOMETHING AROUND THE END OF THE ARC, A CLIMATIC SHOWDOWN OF SORTS”- I kinda get reminded a little of the MHA anime from this, in that they split chapter 1 into two episodes, and here it feels very much like chapters 1-2 are meant to be read together as a whole intro to vigilantes.

5) “BUT SINCE AIZAWA IS JUST NEXT BLOCK, THIS IS GOING TO LAST LIKE, TWO PAGES/2 MINUTES AT MOST.”-In fairness, the entire time it takes for the 4-armed giant to rampage around is probably only around about 2-3 minutes in length- long enough for Aizawa to spend restraining the two dweebs Koichi and co left him with before racing close enough to catch sight of him in time. Heroes actually have to make sure that the villains they beat down won’t wake up and sneak off in the aftermath of their fights even if there’s multiple crises going on. Therefore, there’s a certain level of preparation Aizawa has to spend making sure spiky and hothead joe can’t escape before he turns his attention to the doll-dealer…which underlines Knuckleduster’s comment about how vigilantes like him are necessary for ‘immediate action’ whilst heroes have to bother by the book.

6) “Now that’s the most realistic depiction of people reacting to a ongoing disaster than I ever saw in my entire life.”-Again though, it highlights the complacency that people are currently steeped in during the age of All Might. These civilians aren’t worried about getting hurt or killed, they’re thinking about how col this event will be to tell their friends, feeling safe enough to hand around the danger zone to take photos, trusting in heroes to protect them rather than themselves. And sure, there’s one nearby, but had Aizawa not been present, it might have taken longer for a different hero to appear, and that might have led to casualties- very defiantly in Koichi’s case, but also amongst the on-lookers.

7) “what

Is he… is he playing with them? What”-Personality powers. This guy has a doll fascination, so his power lets him grow big enough to turn other people doll-sized and grants him more hands to ‘play’ with them. As Pop said, he’s got some weird hobbies, and his powers let him enact his hobbies with the people and objects around him. Good thing too, otherwise he might have been more violent and destructive with his abilities.

8) “ALSO WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT GRAPPLING HOOK STUCK ON? THERE WEREN’T ANY TALL BUILDINGS THAT CLOSE

IS YOUR POWER ACTUALLY TO BEND THE LAWS OF PHYSIC OR SOMETHING?”-Spider-man rules. When you can’t see the point of contact, it’s attached to a helicopter just off-panel.

9) “Yeah no, don’t worry, he’s totally fine, he just snapped his fucking spine, no biggie.”-Meh, he’s an old man, his spine was acting up that day anyway, he needed a good twist or two to get it back into place.

10) “Well, going by the very first page of the story, we know that she survives, and Koichi is the one to fall, and now I’m curious to see how he’ll manage to reverse this situation.”-Koichi: I’ll save her!.... wait, but who’ll save me!?

11) “Oh what the- Wait, did he just connected to the wall? He can do that?! “-In true Jojo fashion, the official description of Slide and Glide was ‘needs 3 points of contact to activate’. It never said those three points of contact had to be horizontal. Another contrast to Izuku is that whilst Izuku is handicapped by his inability to spend enough time properly training to master his quirk before he’s thrown into the hero lifestyle, often struggling to make use of it in the beginning and making steady progress towards becoming more badass with it as he learns to stop treating it as some special power, but rather a new ability that’s part of his body, something to one down and gradually build up towards in increments, Koichi’s been using his quirk his whole life, but thanks to never becoming a hero, he didn’t go through all the special pointers that Izuku and co got when thinking up their special moves or ways to improve their quirk’s strengths and weaknesses. Koichi’s power is actually way more versatile than he thinks it is, but he’s never been trained, nor encouraged to experiment with it and push the limits of what he can do before he met knuckleduster.

12)“DAMMIT I THOUGHT HE WAS ONLY ABLE TO MOVE ON THE GROUND, THIS OPENS A WHOLE WORLD OF POSSIBILITIES

HE ALREADY LOOKED LIKE SPIDER MAN, YOUNG BOY WISHING TO SERVE AND PROTECT HIS COMMUNITY BY WORKING BEYOND THE LAW, BUT NOW HE’S PRETTY MUCH SPIDER MAN WITHOUT THE WEB SLINGING”-Yep. He even has the bug-themed aspect- though cockroach in his case- and small-steps focus of Spidey protecting his neighbourhood/city in contrast to other heroes like the avengers protecting the world/ Izuku protecting the country from Tomura’s desire to tear it all down. Stick a pair of wrist-mounted grappling hooks to his forearms and he’ll pretty much have the look almost down pat. Koichi is spider-man without the spider-sense- (that we know of) or super strength (at least until knuckleduster gives him his own ‘American Dream Plan’) whereas Izuku is Captain America- humble kid from the streets given great power through his purity of spirit and becomes a team leader despite others having more impressive qualities than he does- with a bit of Iron Man thrown in there- has a sharp mind and regularly comes up with strategies on-the-fly utilising the powers of his comrades with a slight tech-based focus on his equipment to fight.

13) “Also we had Sliding-guy, the most disturbing hero to ever grace the manga with their presence, with apparently one of the most useless powers to eve be seen in the story of ever. Seriously, someone tell me that his power isn’t just sliding around, because that’s completely dumb and I’ll be mad if they let him be a pro while telling Shinso he had no chance.”-Well, granted, Koichi can do a little bit more with his quirk than we saw Sliding do with his but still…

14) “Life isn’t fair, but in your case it seems to be deliberately trying to get you killed. What god you angered before being born dude?”- And to drive home the comparison to his inspiration, Koichi clearly shares Peter Parker’s luck with life and things going his way, especially if they happen to be onrushing traffic.

15) “He seems to be focused on the small stuff, helping the common folk with the little things. Since he can’t fight crime, he needs to help in some way.”-My Hero Academia: Homecoming

16) “He has a quirk, but its not suitable to make him a hero, and the universe seems to hate him, because he keeps getting punished even though he’s extremely nice.”- The Peter Parker effect- Albeit it turned out peter’s powers are probably the most useful and OP of any mid-tier hero in his general category- above guys like daredevil but below people like Iron Man.

17) “WELL, HE DID WANT TO FLY, BUT HE DIDN’T SPECIFIED FOR HOW LONG”- ‘Flying’s easy, it’s landing that’s the real bitch’

18) “Nice use of her power’s condition to activate. She needs a surface to bounce off from, not necessarily that it needs to be a wall or the floor. “-Alas, befitting her somewhat self-centred nature, she didn’t consider what would happen to Koichi after she’d used him as a springboard until she herself was safe and didn’t realise she’d just killed Koichi’s forward momentum and knocked him down in her place. That said, Koichi didn’t really seem to have a plan for what to do after he caught her, so neither of them were thinking well at that point.

19) “Oh wow, that’s a pretty pessimistic way to face your approaching demise. C’mon man, you need to think like knuckleduster, that- Actually, never mind him, he did fly and fall and die.”-

Knuckleduster: Koichi….Koichi…

Koichi: wha…Master? Knuckleduster…Use…The trash… Koichi: Oh my God! I can hear master’s ghost!!

Knuckleduster: …I’m not dead you cheeky shit, I’m just having a smoke break down here

Koichi: Dammit!!!!

20) “The universe usually does that to us all Koichi, but I think that he’s actually trying to grab you. That’s a bit better, you’ll at least survive this fall, even if you’ll have to face an eternity as a giant’s toy.”-Either he’s trying to replace his Pop-Step doll with Koichi’s limited ‘Gentle-Man’ figure, or e’s trying to swat down another pesky fly buzzing around his head- could go either way.

21) “Oh, that’s good, this way you can avoid being turned into a living action figure, but I do hope you aimed at a building, because I have no idea how far from the ground you’re at.”-Alas, it doesn’t seem yet that he’s got enough control to fully stick to things like Spidey can, otherwise he would have been able to hang onto the Doll-dealer high-palm long enough to jump to an adjacent rooftop rather than continue his fall at a different angle. It seems slide and glide works on the principle of forward momentum, which makes it easy for Koichi to scale a building faster than Spidey can crawl it, but Harder for him to stop and remain still in a fixed positon.

22) “REJOICE ONCE AGAIN KOICHI, FOR THE EMO DAD HAS COME TO PROTECT YOU FROM THE BIG SCARY SALARYMEN

NOW YOU’LL DEFINITELY LIVE TO SEE AND FIGHT ANOTHER DAY”- Koichi got 2 dad rescues in the same 30 second period there.

23) “Yep, Aizawa is on the job, and I do hope that the story finds a solution for his clothes, because once his quirk deactivates I believe he’ll be butt-naked in front of those kids.”-On that note, I’m reminded of izuku’s own gigantic villain from chapter 1 and how that guy had clothing that he was able to wear whilst gigantified- perhaps he was a Customer of Detnerat’s brand of clothing?

24) “knuckleduster pointed out the thing that even Aizawa can’t deny. The heroes can’t be everywhere all the time, there always will be people in need when they are out dealing with something big, but, those three, and vigilantes in general, they’ll be in the shadows waiting to strike the heart of evil.”-Small steps vs bBg steps. Only by meeting in the middle can they have a chance to make headway against crime in the city, even without All Might being present. Shame the laws gets In the way of that.

25) “Actually, now that I think about it, Koichi probably had to be saved from danger more than Pop☆Step since the story begun.

GODDAMMIT KOICHI IT HAS BEEN ONLY TWO CHAPTERS SO FAR HOW THE HELL DID YOU ALMOST DIED SO MANY TIMES?!”- Given that Koichi seems to have the Japanese Peter Parker’s luck, odds are that by the time the story reaches MHA’s present, Koichi will have almost died more times than Izuku, even with the latter getting Wrapped up in the dangerous actions of the league. Doesn’t help that he doesn’t yet have any way to actually defend himself against attackers like Knuckleduster can.

26) “It was scary, but you don’t regret it, and you definitely would do it again.

And you WILL do it again, eventually.”- Last chapter ended with him stepping in to save Pop, this chapter ended with him flying in to save her. Bit by bit, Koichi’s starting to become bolder and more forward in his heroic activities, which isn’t a bad thing for him, but will definitely reach a point of conflict at some point in the future, should he run into an inspector Javert –type who won’t be as tolerant of these Vigilantes playing hero as Aizawa was.

27) “You will fail while trying something else, but that’s a good sign, it means you’re at least aiming at something. And like he said, you’ll learn from failing, and you won’t make the same mistakes again, you’ll improve. You’ll learn how to land.”- ‘The only true failure is when you give up on succeeding. Everything else is just a stepping stone to reach that goal’

28) “Oh this is remarkably similar to Midoriya narrating how this was the story of how he became the world’s greatest hero, but, on Koichi’s case its way more humble, because we know he’ll never be a pro hero, he admitted it to himself, But he still will be a great hero, he still will fly and reach new height.

One of greatest heroes’ that were never know, on the shadows to protect and serve, without demanding anything in return.”-I don’t know how Koichi’s doing in the present day, but I do want him and Midoira to end up occupying similar roles to each other, each covering aspects of society that the other cannot protect. In fact, Koichi’s vigilantism might become incredibly important down the line, given how Tomura intends to destroy society and the concept of heroics in general, somebody like Koichi and knuckleduster, who do it not for the money or fame, but because it’s the right thing to do, might be the only kind of heroes’ people will be able to rely on to save them.

29) “His personal philosophy from what I could get is that a hero is not a tittle, its a person that rises to the occasion to help those in need.

I can argue that its different from the Meta army ideals, as they are only looking for freedom of using the quirks, while this guy thinks that someone with the will to fight for others should be fighting for others. He’s not using his quirk for personal gain, he is here only to serve and protect.”- And now that we know he doesn’t even have a quirk to fight crime with, his statement rings all the more true-he doesn’t even have a quirk to use for his personal gain, but he’s still fighting anyway on behalf of others. Small wonder he felt drawn to Koichi, somebody else who’s also similarly powerless, but only because Society has taught him to be. It’s Knuckleduster’s attitude in defiance to that that will arguably be the most valuable lesson Koichi takes away from him, learning to be more confident in himself and what he’s doing even if the law disparages his actions in helping others.

@thelreads

#thelreads #chapter replies #mha vigilantes #vigilantes 2 #bnha

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vspideycaptain · 5 years ago

Text

The Real War (Part 4)

Reader x Tom Holland x Chris Evans (not a 3-way)

A/N: You’re a newer member of the MCU as you were and actor cast in Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3. Through the shooting process you have come to know the other actors in the MCU and some have even taken an extra liking to you… You find yourself in a love-triangle with Tom Holland and Chris Evans and all the secrets break out at the MCU Reunion party hosted by RDJ. Oh and it’s a karaoke party!

Jake and Jacob spill the beans in their overly intoxicated state and Chris and Tom are furious. THE CLIMAX

Warnings: Angst, as usual. Alcohol and Cursing. WORD COUNT: 1,748 I don’t not own gifs

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On my way back to the bar for an inevitable second Gin and Tonic I caught a sight I for some reason wasn’t expecting to see. Chris and Tom together. Talking.

I hadn’t necessarily expected Chris to stay where I left him and same with Tom but what I hadn’t expected was for them to find each other in the same group with Jacob and Jake. They were all laughing together as casual as could be which in a way both eased my anxieties and heightened them even more. I found Zendaya at the bar getting refills for what looks like her and Tom as she lifted a beer and a martini from the counter. I met her before she could walk back. “Um. How did that happen?” I asked as and although I might have startled her she caught on to what I was about pretty quickly. “There you are!” She started, “Evans said you nipped to the bathroom! He uh came over to Tom, Jacob, and I shortly after you left him I think. Everything seems fine though! They both seem good.” She reassured me as I looked over at the group of boys all roared over something Jacob had said. “Yeah… No wait for me!” I said stopping her from leaving without me and ordered my second drink.

“I mean this will be fine right?” I asked her, “Like they’re both friends and I’m sure either of them won’t make a move on me in front of the other considering both relation-“ I didn’t want to put that word on either of whatever was going on with either of them and I tried again, “Considering that whatevers going on between me and either of them is hardly out in the open naturally.” Zen nodded in agreement and asked me how my interaction with Chris had gone before and I filled her in. “Wow… (Y/N) I have to say if there is one thing you can get out of tonight, neither of them are playing around. They’re both definitely into you.” She took a sip of her martini before finishing, “How are you feeling? Any other realizations?”

My drink was finally delivered but neither of us made our way back to group right away, giving myself the chance to answer her question. “To be honest everything has just confirmed how I already felt about the both of them. Tom made me laugh at his silliness even after just one drink and then gave me butterflies when he said that he was happy to see me and hell I am so attracted to him.. with the way he well… looks… he looks so sexy tonight.” I took a deep breath after my rambling and sipped away at the gin again before continuing while Zen was potentially holding hers and Tom’s drink. “But Chris… Well.. Fuck! He made me laugh too when he made fun of me and then butterflies flipped throughout my stomach whenever he looked at me and I was so turned on from just his finger playing at my wrist that I had to leave before I lost myself!”

I huffed violently in annoyance as I turned to my drink again and Zendaya gave me a caring look before gesturing to head over to the guys. She didn’t even have to articulate her advice. I knew that the next step was to get back into the party to see what would happen next. As we approached Z darted straight for Tom with his third drink and I absent-mindedly followed at her heels again. “What took so long?” he asked clearly a little more intoxicated since that last time I had seen him. He had been trying to slim down for his next spidey movie so he his alcohol tolerance was much lower than I think he was used to. After he asked his question Zendaya answered him, “Girls stuff. Nothing to worry about.” And she stepped aside and revealed me standing behind her and he practically let out an audible ‘Oh’ as my presence surprised him and put the widest smile on his face. “Oh okay, no biggie!” He said changing his attitude as I took my spot in the circle of people.

It was my plan to put myself between Jacob and Jake but they were too busy putting their arms around each other like a bunch of goofballs pretending to be looking up at the stars together, even though they were inside and could only see the various colored lights flash on the ceiling. Zendaya giggled at their silliness as Tom and Chris put their focus on me as I took my place hesitantly between the two of them. “You alright?” Chris shouted over Mark Ruffalo sing-yelling Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money. I glanced over at Ruffalo for a split second to buy myself more time before answering and by doing so I caught Tom giving me a very obvious worried look. I clearly wasn’t being a good actress in this moment. The both could tell something was up with me.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine!” I started then raised my volume so the whole group could hear, “I just can’t decide what I’m going to sing?” That was only half a lie. That might not have been what I was worrying about in the moment but it was something in the back of my mind. This was a karaoke party after all. Jake and Jacob snapped out of their games and weighed in on the conversation. “You? You’re gonna sing?” Jacob blurted out, it was now clear to me that he was nearly obliterated from the alcohol at this point. “Yes… I sing… Just not confidently….” I said half in defense and half in embarrassment. Jake drops his jaw like this was the biggest news he’s ever heard. “WHAT? You HAVE to sing! What are you gonna sing?” He asked as he wobbled a little, he was undoubtably on the same level as Jacob.

I laugh shaking my head at the two of them, “I don’t know… I just said that.” And when I finished instinctually turned to Chris to get his reaction. I watched as he had one hand over his eyes laughing to himself when I felt a hand on the other side of me, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen out of my pony tail behind my ear. I followed the hand and up the arm to find it was Tom’s hand. I couldn’t help but get those goosebumps again, every time he did something like this, something so careful and sweet it made my heart jump but then I remembered that Chris was right behind me. He cleared his throat and even though Tom hadn’t noticed that he did he took his hand away from my face but then said, “You’ll sound beautiful no matter what you sing.”

My mouth was slowly going agape as I had no idea what to do next. If I should just let whatever happens happen to see where else Tom was going to go and to see what Chris might do if Tom tried to make another move. But all our attention snapped at Jacob again, “Of course you’re gonna say that, Tommy! You’re in love with her!”

“What!” I nearly yelled but then remembered our surroundings, many other people at this party could have heard him. “What?” Tom said through clenched teeth and shortly after Chris echoed, “Yeah what?” He had a twinge of anger too but he must have still been trying to keep his emotions under wraps. But then out of nowhere Jake chimes in and points to Evans, “What to you mean what? You’re in love with her too!” And at this I swear my jaw was on the floor. It was Zendaya’s turn, “What?!” She spat out giving the two of them the searing stare I would be giving them if my head wasn’t spinning. Tom set his beer down hard on the table, “Come again?” His tone clearly reaching a new height thickening his posh accent and looking over at Chris who hadn’t done anything since Jacob spoke but look between Tom and me.

“Did Jacob say you’re in love with her, Holland? I knew it!” Chris finally spoke, his chest puffed out and taking as swig of his scotch and soda. Tom crossed his arms, “I-I-I like her a lot! I but-“ He took in a deep breath before raising his volume over the sound of Chadwick Boseman and Jeremy Renner doing a duet to Summer Loving from Greese, “REWIND- YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HER?” Tom was furious and Chris was getting all worked up himself. He finally looked down at me contemplating his answer to Tom. He could easily lie but in that one quick glance down at me he broke. “Possibly, yeah…” He said still to me before turning back to Tom, yelling too, “Yeah! WHAT’S IT TO YOU?”

I swear I could feel the group opening up and swallowing me in, or at least that’s what I was wishing for in this moment. I caught a glimpse at Zendaya who was looking around noticing that some people near by like Chris Pratt, Elizabeth Olsen, Chris Hemsworth, Paul Rudd and others. She smiled at them trying to play it off like they were joking around. I hoped to God no one could actually hear what they were saying to each other. I stepped back as the continued to size each other up. Tom saying things like, “Aren’t you a little old, grandpa?” and Chris saying, “You’re just a kid, what do you know! She needs a man!”

Just then, when I thought the world was ending I was somewhat saved by RDJ. He tapped on the microphone from the stage before speaking and getting everyone’s attention. “Hi everyone! I hope you’re all having a wonderful time… BUT! A little birdie told me that there is a certain someone who wants to sing but hasn’t had the chance to yet…” I look over to the stage to find that Jacob and Jake had ran away from the mess they had made and gotten Robert to create this diversion. “(Y/N) (L/N) … Will you please grace us with you’re talents on the stage?” Everyone started to clap and so I had no other choice but to get up there and hope that neither of the boys punch each other while I performed.

To Be Continued.... (Part 5/Finale)

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trans-advice · 5 years ago

Link

Actor Michael D. Cohen Has Something to Share: ‘I Transitioned’

Actor Michael D. Cohen in Burbank, Calif. on April 16, 2019.

“We need more sweat!”

On that command, a production assistant takes a spray bottle filled with glycerin and scurries over to actor Michael D. Cohen, making his bald head glisten as a crew stands by at a studio in Burbank, Calif. They’re filming the fifth season of Henry Danger, a farcical superhero saga that is Nickelodeon’s longest running live-action sitcom. In it, Cohen plays a character named Schwoz, a quirky genius who aids the show’s good guys much as Q aids James Bond. In this scene, as a goof, Schwoz is leading some of the show’s younger actors through an aerobic workout. Cameras roll as Cohen, clad in spandex and now suitably sweaty, breaks into action. “Your life begins where your comfort zone ends!” he barks while huffing through the routine.

It’s just a line that Cohen is delivering in his character’s silly accent. But it also expresses an idea that the actor has come to understand intimately, one he is ready to embrace again, whatever it might mean for his future. Spurred in part by the political climate — which in recent years has seen fraught public reckonings around issues related to gender — Cohen wants to publicly disclose a private fact that he has been sharing with colleagues on the set of Henry Danger: Nearly twenty years ago, he transitioned from female to male.

“I was misgendered at birth,” Cohen says. “I identify as male, and I am proud that I have had a transgender experience — a transgender journey.”

Today, there are more actors than ever who are open about having had, as Cohen puts it, a transgender journey. This is in part because there is a proliferation of shows, including Pose and Transparent, that are portraying nuanced transgender characters. But Cohen is rare in that he worked in the entertainment industry for more than two decades before he chose to make this disclosure.

In many ways, the environment is far more welcoming than it was when Cohen first transitioned, back when issues of gender identity were largely relegated to spectacles like The Jerry Springer Show. In Hollywood, figures like Laverne Cox and Asia Kate Dillon have nabbed major roles, helping to shift mindsets among producers and audiences alike. More broadly, there is unprecedented awareness about LGBTQ issues, in courts and legislatures as well as the cultural zeitgeist. Yet that visibility has also spurred backlash from conservatives who cast transgender and gender nonconforming people as a threat to societal norms.

Cohen does not use the word transgender to describe himself, but he does view himself as part of a community that typically embraces that label, and he didn’t feel he could be an outspoken advocate until he made his history known. The actor has grown restless while watching the Trump administration roll back protections for transgender people in schools and the military, as Republicans have fought bills that would protect them from discrimination in public spaces.

“This crazy backlash and oppression of rights is happening right in front of me. I can’t stay silent,” Cohen says. “The level of — let’s be polite — misunderstanding around trans issues is so profound and so destructive. When you disempower one population, you disempower everybody.”

It’s a chilly April evening in L.A., and I’m sitting with Cohen on the otherwise empty patio of a sleek restaurant on Sunset Boulevard. One of the first things you notice about him is the same thing casting directors do: he’s short, just over five feet tall. Tonight, his big eyes are framed under a flat cap and he’s sporting salt-and-pepper stubble that will be shaved before filming starts the next day. As we talk, Cohen has a tendency to fiddle with the cuff of his blue blazer. The Canadian-born actor also has a tendency to crack jokes, displaying the comedic talents that have propelled his career. When asked about how it’s been having the name Michael Cohen lately, for instance, he says that he’s had it: “I’m thinking of changing my name to Paul Manafort.”

Today, a central struggle for openly transgender actors is combatting the expectation that they should play transgender characters. If Cohen has been hemmed in, it’s only by the perception that he’s a character actor — a type of thespian he defines as “not good looking enough to sleep with a leading woman.”

He recalls watching The Carol Burnett Show as a kid in Winnipeg, marveling at the way that television can be unifying for people laughing together on a couch “regardless of whatever else is happening in that family unit.” Though Cohen always wanted to be an actor, there was a time early in his career when he focused on behind-the-scenes work and voice acting instead. “I think I loved acting so much,” he says, “that I didn’t want to do it as a woman.” Eventually, his love of acting won out. Cohen played female roles until he transitioned in 2000, a process that, in his case, involved medical treatment as well as changes in how he presented himself socially.

Some years later, Cohen left the studios of Toronto for Hollywood and started landing roles at a greater clip. In 2014, he began appearing on Henry Danger. Today, more than 750,000 kids tune in to watch the sitcom each week. According to Nickelodeon — which, along with parent company Viacom, shares wholehearted support for Cohen and “diversity in all its forms” — it’s the number one live-action kids’ show on basic cable. Adults may have seen Cohen elsewhere, on sitcoms like Powerless, in films or commercials like a Wendy’s “Biggie Bag” spot that has been airing recently.

Actor Michael D. Cohen on the set of Henry Danger in Burbank, Calif. on April 16, 2019.

Ryan Pfluger for TIME

Another reason Cohen wants to publicly talk about his history now is that he is preparing to put on a new production, a play about his life that has been in the making for the past fifteen years. In the one-man show that he wrote and stars in — called “4 Cubits Make a Man,” a reference to Leonardo Da Vinci’s famous Vitruvian specimen — he chronicles how he came to grips with his identity, as well as how he navigated family, romantic relationships and widespread ideas about what makes someone a man.

“It is not random, it is not arbitrary, it is not chosen,” he says of gender identity. “It’s like trying to negotiate with gravity.”

The play, funny enough to get the audience through the raw pain of many scenes, centers on this tension. “In my experience, I was born male. What my body said about it was irrelevant,” Cohen says. “No matter how hard I tried, it was not up for negotiation. Believe me, it would have been so convenient if I was actually a woman.”

People like him are not, as some social conservatives have suggested in fiery debates about LGBTQ rights, the product of “radical ideology” spreading around the Internet or a figment of anyone’s imagination, he says. “My chromosomes do not dictate my gender. I’m a man,” Cohen says. “It’s not that hard.”

In the play, Cohen also explains why he does not describe himself as transgender.

He understands that this word is commonly used by people who identify with a gender other than the sex they were assigned at birth. Many people “feel that does reflect their identity and they’re very comfortable with that, and that’s completely valid,” he says. But, for him, the term feels off, and he does not want to make compromises about how he describes himself at this point in his life. “I have worked so hard to get to the truth and I’ve taken on labels in the past that didn’t feel true for the sake of convenience at that moment,” he says. While the word transgender may describe his past or his transition, he says, he has always felt his “core being” was male, and so that is the language he uses.

Cohen knows that may seem complicated. But that comes with the territory. He believes that animus toward people like him — however they identify — comes in part from the fact that their existence complicates simple maxims about gender. That is part of what has made transgender people a target in political battles over issues like the sports, religious freedom and civil rights. And Cohen wants to stand with them. “These are my people. I belong to this group,” he says of Americans who have been affected by policies like the Trump Administration’s guidance on Title IX, the law that prohibits sex discrimination in education.

Though Nickelodeon has been supportive, Cohen knows this is a complicated time to be making this disclosure in Hollywood, too. The entertainment industry continues to grapple with what it means to be inclusive, and while LGBTQ issues are intermingling with kids’ programming more than in the past, sensitivities remain. Cohen is hopeful about the message that his continued presence on the show — which has filmed more than 100 episodes and was recently picked up for 10 more — will send to young viewers who are attuned to issues of gender identity. Yet he is also prepared for backlash from parents.

“People don’t understand. They think this has to do with sexuality and it doesn’t. They think this has to do with pushing an agenda on kids and it doesn’t,” he says. “What it does is send a message to kids that whoever they are, however they identify, that’s celebrated and valued and okay.”

There’s something about Cohen that kids respond to, the producers of Henry Danger say. Maybe it’s his small stature. Maybe it’s his talent for physical comedy. Maybe it’s the feeling that Schwoz is a fantastical bridge between the grownup and kid worlds.

Chris Nowak, the showrunner for Henry Danger, says that colleagues respect what Cohen has told them but continue to see him as they always have: “Just a guy who’s real good at his job.” Jace Norman, a teen heartthrob who plays the show’s protagonist, Henry Hart, says in an email that the news “didn’t change anything about the high level of respect and admiration I have for the guy,” and thinks “it’s in the best interest of the entire world to have every type of person represented on TV.”

On set, Cohen’s news seems to have been processed with little hubbub. Of far more concern is the timing for delivering jokes as he flees, still in his spandex getup, from a frazzled woman who has traveled back from the future to warn everyone that humanity will be enslaved by robots. As she pursues him, Schwoz zips frantically around the show’s secret superhero lair like he’s in a Benny Hill chase scene. In between takes, he jokes that, for this particular episode, he has been drawing inspiration from Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard.

However frivolous it is, when the episode airs, it will reflect a serious reality back to the actor: that the world sees him as he sees himself, a guy who plays another guy on TV. And he hopes that sharing the fuller picture might make the idea of disclosure less uncomfortable for others. “If I tell my truth,” Cohen says, “that gives other people permission to tell theirs too.”

Write to Katy Steinmetz at [email protected].

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eponymous-rose · 6 years ago

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Weird question, but you seem really productive despite seeming to have a constantly fluctuating routine, with both your work and your hobbies. Most people think having a solid routine is the only way to increase your productivity but I've pretty much given up on having a routine since my life seems similar to yours--a lot of travel, weird and always changing work hours. Do you have any advice on how you deal with routine and productivity in spite of that?

Oh gosh, this is definitely something I struggle with a LOT, and I’m not sure I’ve found a coping strategy that works for me yet. But the small things that have been helping have been (1) keeping a routine in my planning even if the stuff I do changes dramatically (even if I’m traveling, I have a notebook where, every Sunday, I list all the stuff that has specific dates/times for the following week, I list the stuff where I still have to come up with a date/time, and I list the stuff I’ve gotta do that week for sure), and (2) finding multiple ways to approach the same goals that I can tailor to my level of energy/spare time on any given week (so this week I’m just not in a super exercisey mindset and can’t rely on having the motivation to run every day, but instead I’m making an extra effort not to eat out this week—lower-effort for my current state of mind, but all toward the same goal of feeling a bit healthier overall).

I’m also very cognizant of how little time at work is actually spent working, so I try not to feel guilty if the total number of hours worked is low as long as the work’s getting done. I’m an incredibly routine-oriented person, but it’s been a bit freeing to slowly and steadily teach myself that stuff just has to get finished one way or another, and the easiest way to do that is to just focus on specific goals and let the rest be flexible.

Anyway, yesterday I was thinking of this ask and was like, “You know, I’ll just write up what I do on Monday as an example, and I bet things will go hilariously awry.” And so they did.

So here’s what my weekly planning list looked like last night:

Dated Events:

Call with paper coauthor at 9AM Monday

Call with leadership academy planning committee at 10AM Monday

Call with peer mentoring group at 9AM Tuesday

Sit in on class at 11:30AM Tuesday and Thursday

Seminars Wednesday at 3PM, Thursday at 4PM, and Friday at 3PM

D&D Saturday at 6PM

Undated Events:

Coordinating abstract submission for an upcoming conference (early week)

Setting up Skype calls with a couple friends I haven’t talked to in a while (late week)

Assorted Priorities:

Book hotel for work travel in July

Accept journal article review request and scope out how long that’ll take

Review some materials sent out for my peer mentoring call

Revise my paper and submit the revisions before the Monday deadline

Get my driver’s license renewed (the joys of yearly visa renewal… your license has to be renewed yearly as well)

Put together a schedule for a biweekly Twitter feature highlighting new publications for the account I run for a subcommittee in my field

Respond to an e-mail about a conference in January about some weird deadline that popped up for next week

Come up with conference abstract ideas before the as-yet-unscheduled meeting

Fill out some action items in advance of my 10AM Monday call

And some more specific checklists for four research projects I’m focusing on this week

I purposely try to group conference calls together, because I currently share my office and feel weird doing video calls when she’s stuck in frame five feet away from me while she tries to work. So Monday seems like a good day to work from home, and I can squeeze in Tuesday’s call before heading to the office that morning. I’ll be in the office Tuesday-Friday, which means I’ll be able to attend those seminars and classes with no problem. I have most of my D&D prep done already because we ended early last game, so I can leave that until Saturday. The only thing I might have to shuffle to next week is the driver’s license thing, because it’ll take three hours and I have to account for finding a Lyft there and back. Okay. Aces.

Wake up this morning to find my internet’s out, and I also somehow left the hard drive with all my research on it at work. Hoo boy. But staring over my to-do list, I think I can set today up as a “big picture” day and not have to do any actual coding, so I’m still okay to work from home. I can also phone in to the conference calls instead of using the video call software. All good.

Luckily, the internet comes back right before my first call of the day. Said call is with someone who also happens to be a dean, so she has a tendency to get held up at meetings, so I take that delay to look at the action items for my second call (I mean… if you send me action items at 8PM on a Sunday I am not gonna touch them until Monday morning).

When she did make it online, we chatted about the new paper, and she strongly encouraged me to send it to our other coauthors in case they have suggestions. We’re submitting on Monday, which is way too short-notice to read a 20-page research paper, but they already read the pre-revision version in great detail, so I shot them an e-mail that included a summary of the substantial changes and a note to the effect that if any of them want more time to look at this stuff, I can beg the editor for an extension on their behalf. Minor crisis averted.

Second meeting is very intense and structured. Everyone has to volunteer to organize and lead two webinars in the next three months, so I go ahead and volunteer for the two April ones so I’ll get it out of the way early. Aaand the first webinar is at 1PM this Friday. Okay. I’ll work from home that morning so I can do last-minute prep, then head into the office in time for the 3PM seminar. No biggie. One organizer puts together a draft schedule, and I send a quick e-mail suggesting a different use of one of the ten-minute time slots. One of the other organizers requests another conference call tomorrow instead of e-mails. I tell them I can only do after 4PM, if I leave work early. Eh. We’ll see how that works out.

After the call, I get through a bunch of small tasks in maybe 20 minutes: hotel booked, Twitter posts prepped, review request accepted (not due until May 20, so plenty of time on that), conference deadline e-mail chain started. I spend the rest of the time before noon getting sucked into an article someone sent me about the myths surrounding undergraduate grade inflation and then reading up on the peer mentoring materials for our call tomorrow. A couple other minor e-mails pop up (scheduling the precise date of a conference mixer in January, that kind of thing) and I manage to deal with them right away.

Lunch! Clearly working from home means I should take the opportunity to indulge in some fine cuisine, some leisurely cooking that highlights—

I heat up a microwave meal (chicken couscous) and watch YouTube videos for an hour.

Back in it! I write up some abstract submission ideas and make a valiant attempt at setting up a time to talk about them, but it looks like that might have to wait until next week. We’re still a ways before the deadline, so that’s okay.

Mmmmmmm someone on Twitter mentions a conference in Germany in September and a workshop in Colorado in July that both look like a good fit for my research. I’m in a situation where I have a big chunk of travel funding that’s going to disappear unless it gets spent in the next year. Oh no. But also oh yes.

Just in case, I put together a couple point-form ideas for stuff to propose that I can bring to the people holding the purse strings.

The rest of the afternoon is spent putting together weekly goals for four of my research projects: each one involves a collaboration with a different person, so I’d like to be able to send each of them an e-mail with at least one new thing to share about that project this week. Just in case that doesn’t happen, though, I rank them from most to least important. Worst-case scenario, I don’t have to send any of them this week, but it’ll make next week tougher if I don’t.

It’s only about 3:30 at this point, but honestly, I’m feeling a bit exhausted and overwhelmed (some of the e-mail chains have gone through five or six replies at this point and keeping it all straight is giving me a headache), so I opt to get some groceries and call it a day.

I may have added some stuff, but I got a lot crossed off today! Here’s how that last checklist looks at the end of the day:

Assorted Priorities:

Revise my paper and submit the revisions before the Monday deadline

Project #1: come up with a new exploratory figure and send to Person A.

Project #2: summarize the early results I started last week and send to Person B, along with an ask to see whether he’d be up for me presenting this stuff in Europe in November.

Project #3: improve on figures I showed last month and send to Person C.

Project #4: prepare a rough outline of the next paper to send to Person D.

Not having my work hard drive means I was able to just focus on the stuff that wasn’t specific to research today. In all the chaos of today, I’ve set myself up well for a research-heavy rest of the week where I (hopefully) won’t have to worry about non-research stuff or big changes to the schedule and can just burrow into research, emerging for occasional seminar/webinar breaks. A good Monday, all around.

#eponymous academia tag #karionwriting

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aggresivelyfriendly · 6 years ago

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Hi babes! Chapter 4 for you! It’s a biggie!

Eternally grateful to the tripod, without @dirtystyles -and @bleedinglove4h I would fall on my face- maybe into someone’s cleavage if I timed it right!!

Ski Da Yo- Chapter 4

It's silly really, the entire scenario that she's found herself in. Ada could laugh, nobody would hear it over the music. It's loud, and people are taking turns at the stage. Though She could go join the group, she should, rather than lurking in the corner like a weirdo, fixated on a previous performance. She's not laughing, even at herself. She'd kinda drooling, way more embarrassing.

But she just had to watch him.

He was in his element, relaxed, on, charming, lit up like a Christmas tree. Merry, bright.

She'd never seen him like this, in the flesh. Glimpses, in the interviews she watched and called research. She'd seen the fuss there, agreed to the picture partly on the strength of it.

She could see it, what the fuss was about. And it was the first real glimpse she'd had, besides those moments she felt she had to steal from him to get on film. She was beginning to think there was a limited supply of Styles' magic. Perhaps, that was why she was only able to get a precious few minutes a day.

Watching him now, that did not seem to be the case. Harry was incandescent and she felt blinded by the light. She could chalk that up to all of her rockstar fantasizes brought to life, but it didn't explain everyone else's rapt attention on him, their enthrallment. Maybe they all had a grunge fetish too?

When she walked in and she clocked him, even with the stupid glasses that obscured his face, festive she supposed, he looked different.

On set he looked, perfect was the word that came to mind, but not in the way people usually meant. Polished and made up and proper in his prince clothes. Perfect, fake. And anxious, like the film was a bit of an albatross around his neck. Or maybe the pressure. And he looked like it was heavy, all the trappings trapping him. Ada worried over it. Like, the movie made him regress. Maybe it felt too familiar. He said that a lot when they talked about scenes, when he was frustrated with himself.

"I know just how he feels."

Because he had been there. Is that why he had such a hard time getting the shot? Because it made him freak out a little, feel like he'd not called his own shots for years? But he'd made these choices. Had agency. Maybe she could help him see it as therapeutic. Because it was a way to safely rebel - a redo, no risk.

She'd talk to him about it. They needed to have that drink. She could order him one now.

Ada shook her head. Not tonight. She didn't want to kill his vibe tonight. It was too lovely to watch, and to live she guessed. No shop talk.

He looked light as a cloud, and as soft edged too. Nothing perfect or fake about him. His skin was a little slick under the stage lights, the ridges near his nose were shiny especially. He had glitter on his cheeks, but not like highlighter, like the glasses he wore were cheap, and shedding tiny pieces of shine.

But he did shine.

And he had sounded good.

Not everybody could sing Nirvana, in a chest voice no less.

She was weaned on that. And really into indie rock, especially grunge, while her dad was fostering 90's slick hip hop. It was a silly means of rebellion, but she took her opportunities to disappoint Garner seriously.

She remembered her dad had called the cover of in utero obscene, which made her laugh as he had just put out a video full of nearly naked females in bikinis, but anatomical drawings were obscene. Okay.

She had snuck a new copy in after he threw the first one away and poured over the lyrics in her baggy jeans and crop top with a flannel. Had a giant crush on Kurt, May he Rest In Peace, and when she met Dave Grohl it may have been the only time she was really starstruck.

Well, she felt like she had been hit about the head by a celestial being currently. Harry had it, that was for sure. How had she missed it? The bushel basket he'd been hiding his light under must have been thick. There was something obscuring her view or his personality definitely. Not tonight. Star power was all over him tonight; that was the boy she had signed up to direct. Right there, from those red carpet clips she'd watched. Those sold her and then she had watched concert footage, shaking camera and all. Those were another level. This silly karaoke gig almost matched the wattage when he was bedecked and bantering on stage. He looked dashing, and like he could carry a movie on his thick shoulder pads all with a joke on his vibrant lips. That man was in this building, singing one of her all time favorite songs. It had an effect.

Wow, the rasp in his voice. God, she was still reeling and hiding out in the back like her crush was nearby.

Her eyes widened.

That's what was going on! She was doing what she had done with Danny Diaz in 10th grade. She wasn't teenage dream obsessed about him, really. But, she'd paid him a lot of attentions, clandestinely. He'd been so cool, and was really into raving. Which, in hindsight, made his post high school life a little clearer. But he liked music that had nothing to do with her dad and he was cute, had long bangs and a shaved head and he could dance! She loved to dance.

She needed to go, before this bloomed like a cherry blossom and she fell off in a great big clump to wait for shoe marks. Like 10th grade, only less poetic.

The pathway to the door was clear. Her heels on the floor made a click click click, though nobody should be able to hear it. She turned back to make sure nobody was following her, was watching, and her heel caught, right in a crack in the concrete floor.

"Shit!" Her ankle twisted and her heard a crunch, that was not good, but her trajectory to the ground wasn't either. Her hands went out to catch her.

He smelled good, like leather a bit, smoky, with a sweet tinge. And he caught her and hoisted her up like she was feather light. She never felt like that, because she was the tallest of her friends, not even tall, just taller, and she had never been small. She had that insta baddie body before it was popular. Grown up in the big titty, little hippy 90's. She always felt huge.

But not right now. He had her, was righting her before her weight came down and she properly broke something. This felt like that time she'd sprained her ankle jumping fences to go skating with the boys. Stupid heels.

Back to the rom com moment she found herself in. He's caught her under the arms. His hands span her whole armpit and his fingers curled into her scapula. Ada spared a thought for how sweaty her underarms might be. Yuck! But she should be ok, she'd gotten properly ready, lots of antiperspirant. She knew that, took a deep breath and then realized she'd missed something. He's staring at her expectantly. The rockstar with the totally revealed charm. Harry.

"What?" It came out with no finesse, like a burp.

"You ok?" Harry was kinda grinning and loose, left eye more hooded than his right, and his breath, definitely 80 proof. She heard the shift and he's no longer got her in a dip fit for a tango . She felt like she'd been whirled and thrilled.

"Um, I think I'm ok." She realized they were still locked in an embrace when she tried to check her foot. Ada looked down at the place his hands had migrated to, on her hips. She didn't really need to look, she could feel all ten fingertips, like little bruise marks formed from hope not pressure. It saved her from looking at her own hands where they were full of the muscular forearms she knew to be covered in tattoos beneath the green button-up he had on. It was a a stall.

But Harry released her the minute he saw her eyeing his familiar hands. She had him well trained apparently. Massive walls between them. They were massively out of place at the moment, regrettable. She wasn't balanced on her feet yet either. Ada nearly fell before he steadied her with a rebound hand at her hip. She caught it to stand on one foot, for safety.

Her ankle circled around ok. She felt a twinge of pain, but it was entirely manageable. That was good. She'd probably need to stay off of it, no treadmill tomorrow, and she'd need to elevate it. Ice too, she could ask the bartender for some. She was plotting how to locate an ace type bandage, and who would be best to ask for that. They may have some in makeup - they'd used them to bind breasts on Wildflower, but she couldn't think why they'd have them for this movie. Harry had perky nipples, but they didn't need to be bound. Stop thinking about Harry's nipples. The lowlight would thankfully mask her blush. Wait, Maybe she could ask his friend, Masa, he owned a gym.

Harry. She could ask him too. And that would be really easy because he was still right there. Holding her hand.

They had laced their fingers at her hip. Ada looked at Harry, he had a huge lazy smile on his face. Pleased as punch. She was punch drunk, though she wouldn't say it. He looked so young and toothy. Though the gathering of sweat at his hairline, little droplets above his upper lip, made him real. Imperfect.

She shook herself and their hands unlatched. "I need ice I think?" Of course she needed ice. What was she talking about? Who even was she? Next she's start babbling, and tuck her hair behind her ear and duck her chin.

"Yeah, and a way to put it up." His head swiveled around and he nodded. "C'mon." He gently took her arm and looped it around his shoulder. He was just tall enough.

The table was closer than she would have liked, a walk under his arms was worth remembering, but it was good for her foot. Harry sat her in a booth and put both hands out in a straight stay there motion then grabbed a chair and propped up her ankle gently. The wrong one, but she went with it.

"Be right back." He tripped a little as he looped off to the bar. Ah, that looked normal. The trip to the bar was only the chorus of the song too. He didn't wait long for the bartender. The whole place seemed to be filled with their group, pleasantly vibrant, but not busy. . It was a quick exchange, with a little sign language thrown in. He was big on hand talking on a normal day. Gesticulating when he described most things. He was very full body engaged and engaging before scenes, before he floated away on her.

Huh, she just thought about that, Henry wasn't gesticulative. A little more in the Akio scenes.

She hadn't noticed that Harry had layered physical control into his performance. She found herself nodding. That was good. Made total sense for a royal.

He was walking back to her now with a thin white towel and he was crunching ice in it. Oh shit - she hadn't switched feet, she'd been watching him.

"Cold!" She flinched, "a little warning Styles!"

"Sorry," he chuckled. "I figured me walking from the bar with a towel after I went over to get ice was warning enough." He curled his tongue a little at her and the ice gave her goosebumps.

Wow, maybe he needed liquid courage on set sometimes. All his nerves were gone.

"Usually someone tells you they are about to put ice on you, even nurses, unless they are trying to be little shits!" She arched one of her brows st him. They were her favorite feature and she used them to her advantage.

"You got me, just wanted to see you squirm, since you get to see me uncomfortable a lot." His slow cadence sometimes bugged her on set. It was another thing she could find irritating, during the literal 11th hour. Ada talked fast. She talked a mile a minute on set because they had shit to do and her brain was usually ten paces ahead of her mouth.

But it was kinda nice, the way he took his time.

"You sounded really good! When you were singing." Oh God he blushed. It was his job to sing, did he know that? "You moonlight in a Nirvana cover band often?" She flexed her foot where his hand was still moving ice around to find the sore ligaments, on the wrong foot. She followed the fire and ice.

He squawked a laugh. "No, just the one time, and only because Kunichi is so persistent. I think he could sell bad fish to a Tokyo chef!" He raised his eyebrows and Ada caught her hand just before she covered her laugh.

"So, it's not the song you've always wanted to sing? That wasn't you living out your teenage rock dream?" He shook his head, just hers then.

"Oh, it's a great song, I love rock." He moved his head like, obviously. His body of work spoke to that. "But I like a little more melody when I'm convinced to do karaoke," he made a drinking motion and she was laughing again. "I like disco divas and duets. And if there is absolutely nobody around to tell on me or god forbid, record, Britney Spears is a blast to perform." He'd placed his hand to block his lips from curious eyes and leaned in to tell her this secret. His lips were plump, they like to reach out and touch her faith.

She was thirsty.

Oh shit, did she just say that out loud? How much had she already had, while skulking in the shadows?

"Sure, what do you fancy?" Quicksilver grin, poisonous and enigmatic.

"Um," what had she already had? "A dirty martini!"

"How dirty?" He flashed his eyebrows.

"Very, three extra olives." She gave him her single brow, the one that she used to dare him when that was what he needed on set.

"Three olives!" He made a shocked face. "Well, I never." And he gave her the goofiest grin and went to grab her drink. He looked comfortable. Like a favorite hoodie she wanted to wear. She only got to really watch him one way. He was back quickly.

He sat by her when he put down her cloudy drink. She'd switched legs while he was away and thought she'd got away with it, but caught his eye as he was studying her legs and he smirked at her.

That was a damn good face. "You need to do that for the scene Monday, the one at the club." Ada segued seamlessly into shop talk. She was actually really excited about that one. It was set at a place she had frequented in her time here; she had really happy memories. She was feeling really excited too, this felt like an actual fresh start, she should have taken Harry up on his offer of a drink ages ago. He was a joy loose. This was the rapport they needed, him loose and smirky, handsome with a side of solicitous and cocky sauce. This was the Harry Styles she'd been waiting for!

🇯🇵🇯🇵🇯🇵🇯🇵

Harry felt like he should get an Oscar for this performance. For his steady hands, that he was currently sitting on, and the confident smirk. It wasn't all an act, but the amount of times he'd had to turn this on like a lightbulb in an interview was invaluable right now. It was mostly fake those times, maybe even faker now. He had been relaxed and joyous, and then he had been so relieved to see her smile at him, he just went with it. But the minute he walked away from her, the first time, for the ice, the nerves kicked in. But he faked it, like a seasoned porn star, because she was looking at him, and touching him, and holy shit! Ada Scott was hanging with him. He would keep the action and make the moans believable.

Wow! Was this the way women felt all the time? When they had to put on some performance for the man they were interested in, or for the men they weren't, but couldn't offend?

It felt easier to relax tonight. The day had set him up for success. Things had ended so well on set, and he'd been in the best mood, and had gotten brave. He'd gone to her trailer. To invite her again. Harry was excited about the evening at the bar and seeing music, though he wasn't sure what it would be like, because it wasn't a gig, nor karaoke, some hybrid he had been told. He liked novel nights out.

But everybody was coming. His whole Japanese network, including Jeff and Masa and his girl!

Everybody but Ada. So he'd put on his man panties and went going to ask her. She needed to be there, and even though she'd turned down all of his invitations and returned the replacement shoes, he was going to ask her again. For the whole cast. They had months left and needed to bond.

He needed to bond with her. It felt possible after their day on set, her brow wasn't creased and she didn't speed walk away. She slowed down enough for him to keep up. They'd had a conversation, not about a scene. He'd kept up and not drifted away on her voice. She walked and talked fast. He liked it.

Masa loved to laugh at him, and was doing just that while he psyched himself up to go talk to her. "Just go ask the lady." He'd arrived to take him back to the hotel to Harry stalling. Masa was giving him a look.

His grin was presumptuous. Harry didn't like it. It felt like he knew. Yuki knee, Masa might. Harry did, know, but he didn't think he was so obvious. Did she know?

"You need a tutu?" Masa heckled.

"What?"

"Your mind is like a dancer on drugs," he made a flitting motion with his hands. "you might need a tutu for making the decision. "

"Oh fuck off, man!"

"Just go ask her. It's a cast party, I haven't even met her and she's supposed to be the leader. She needs to come. A leader should." Masa's brow shrunk.

"She is the leader, she's the boss!" He was full of defenses for her. "If you were allowed on set you'd see."

"Oh, I'm not allowed." Harry had neglected to outright tell him that, just let him be distracted, that would run out when they had to go on location. Whoops.

"You'd make fun of me, I've been totally fucking up. So you aren't allowed. At all."

"Isn't the movie about a royal fucking up?" Masa said after catching his wheezing breath. He sounded like a dragon with hay fever.

Hmmm, Harry'd have to have a think on that. That was a plot point he should consider when he was flagellating himself. Maybe he could use it, all his self frustration. He shook himself and jumped up and down like he was going on stage, when he turned around to tell Masa he was going, he was laughing at him, again.

"What now?"

"Are you going to punch her?" He gulped the air. "You do that before you box."

"I just need to hype myself up." Harry shook his head out.

"She must be really pretty."

"Shut up." She was really pretty, but it had been an asset today, made the scene work and Harry had decided he needed exposure therapy. So he needed to be around her, more. He was gonna go talk to her, get used to her face.

He strode to her trailer and stopped cold outside before he could knock. For once, it was not over nerves, but his jaw which had dropped to the floor. That sound as coming from her trailer.

She was singing. Well! To Mary J. Blige's Real Love. And he wanted to sit on the little steps up to her door and listen.

So she could have gone into the music business, had everything going for her there. Connected daddy, pretty face, hot body, and pipes. Wow, she could belt! He had goosebumps. Her voice was rich and evocative. Deeper that he expected.

And he could not talk to her. Not now. Now she was even more impressive.

So he did what any brave young lad would do.

He asked his manager to do it.

Jeff smirked, but sent the text. And like the magic 8 ball he could be, he made the face he did when the outlook wasn't good.

So Harry had resigned himself to Ada not coming to the bar. He was disappointed, but also relieved. Those two feelings must be dating as often as he felt them together when it came to Ada. If she didn't come, he could relax and have fun, let loose, but not bond with her, or have another chance to impress her. Or throw up on her. There would be alcohol involved again. He needed to gain back the ground he'd lost when he spewed at her feet.

A second chance at a first impression.

But Jeff seemed to be right, as he often was. Ada was softer with him after the last cut because he had done a good job. He'd work that angle to bond.

He resigned himself to having another kick ass day on Monday for him and Ada, and having a great time tonight for himself, free of expectations. He was feeling buoyant, Kunichi had noticed right away, pounced and got him on stage. First on the drums, which he played like a 7th grader after a few lessons, and then on the microphone.

God, it was fun. So fun. And he felt the perfect amount of tipsy, like tomorrow he'd need two paracetemol and extra water, a good sweat and nothing else.

He felt extra intoxicated when he spotted Ada. In tight jeans and a slimmer t-shirt than normal, and high heels. He tried not to stare at her ass on a sneaker day, he was doomed with the thrust the 3 inches gave her curves. She looked amazing, but she looked like she was leaving. And he'd just realized she was there!

The social lubricant in his blood didn't give him a chance to think better of it. He was walking to Ada. He got there just in time. Her heel stuck in a crease in the floor, and he caught her. It was every rom com moment he'd ever sat on his mum's couch moon eyed over in one.

He got to help her. And he was able to talk to her like a normal human, and get her a drink. All in the span of 20 minutes!

She seemed relaxed, her shoulders pressed against her tee nicely, but were down, easy. And she smiled at him, a lot.

He was trying his best not to think, he'd spin out. When he went to get her ice towel and then the martini, god, she kind of flirted, right? People flirted with him all the time, or went mute. She didn't do either until tonight. And he was buzzing, more off the flirting at this point than the alcohol.

The little insecure boy inside, the one who was really loud in new situations or around new people, especially people he admired, was chiming in about the stage. The stage cast a spell on people, and he worried about people who knew him from it or expressed attraction to that aspect of him.

It's why he'd always held back with Helene, regrettably.

He didn't want to make that mistake again, he'd made wrong assumptions that cost him Helene's affections. He didn't want to do that here, wanted to do the opposite. Part of him wanted to dive in, head first, but he wasn't sure. Rejection hurt no matter who you were, and though he'd had his share, Harry's skin was still cling wrap thin. He wanted her to like him too. He wanted this to be real. Which meant he had to be honest, and open. But he was rushing it, like he did when he was crushing.

He was going to let this night be what he hoped it would be, a beginning. And he was that guy, the one on stage, with the smirk, and the wit. He was also less commanding, and lost his cool at times, but she'd seen that guy. He just needed to show her more of his best side, tonight, and on set.

He caught Kunichi motioning to him. Ah, he'd almost forgotten his promise.

He leaned back, let his arm brush her shoulder while he relaxed. He'd turn on the charm for just a minute, he could manage that, he wanted something he'd been a little consumed with for the better half of this night. And he wanted it from Ada.

He flexed the dimple and titled his head to the side. "This smile?" He pointed his finger at his lips.

"That's a good one, but no. The cockier one!" Oooh, he really did love that eyebrow. Gave him tingles.

"I will do my absolute best," he smirked and her lashes fluttered. "If you'll come up and sing with me."

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #a premontion of love #apol #chapter 4 #ski da yo #talk to me

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trustyourgutblog · 5 years ago

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The One Where the Therapist Sees a Therapist

No time feels more appropriate to talk about mental health than after the last few weeks I’ve had at work. Sometimes, I feel super blessed to be able to have a job that I’m so extremely passionate about. Sometimes I feel like a sponge that’s been wrung out one too many times and my job is trying to squeeze out the last few droplets of life force that I have left.

I’ve always been interested in becoming a therapist. I’ve always been that friend that people call when they need to solve a problem.

So, when I was diagnosed with Crohn’s and IBD and was referred to a behavioral health psychologist to help me manage my stress-related symptoms, I was intrigued by the thought that I would be in the client seat.

I had been in therapy in the past, as I mentioned in my first blog post, but never received any ongoing treatment. I was an angsty teen who met with two different therapists on one occasion and refused to ever go back.

When I met with my behavioral health psychologist for the first time, I was nervous, but also hopeful that I would learn some new tools to manage my stress. We’ll call her Dr. R ~ she was young, intelligent, intuitive, and had this calming presence about her that was comforting and reassuring.

What really helped me to feel at ease with her was that she was respectful of my perspective of being in the other chair, so to speak. She understood first-hand what it’s like to deal with the stress of taking on emotional baggage, hour after hour, 5 days a week. Dr. R was totally validating and almost helped me understand the severity of stress that I was putting my body under day in and day out, just by going to work.

We’d spend our sessions discussing any ongoing life stressors for the first half and the second half engaging in gut-directed hypnotherapy.

Yeah, I said it. She’d hypnotize me. Shout out to Biggie Smalls ‘cause that song is stuck in my head now.

Being hypnotized is absolutely wild. I’ve never felt that sort of spiritual sensation. It’s so hard to describe, I almost wish I had a journal entry after my first session to help me refer to what I was feeling at the time.

It’s almost like you’re lucidly dreaming while just experiencing complete and total relaxation. A new level of peace that I’d never experienced before. I know that it sounds like a hoax, but I honestly would have to sit in her office for a few minutes and gather myself before I felt like I could make my legs walk to the waiting room because I was so relaxed.

I honestly wish I could’ve carried Dr. R around in my pocket so that I could be hypnotized daily. But, she did also give me some useful tools so that I could practice meditation at home. I had already been using guided meditation apps every so often, but she gave me recordings of her own voice and exercises that were specific to the gut. Specific to my own disease and not just the generalized anxiety that I felt with everyday life stressors.

My treatment with Dr. R was around 6 months long and very expensive, but I honestly wouldn’t trade it for the world. Not only was it helpful to have an extra outlet for all of my everyday stress, but she gave me ideas on how to take bits and pieces of the peace that hypnotherapy provided into my everyday life.

If you have the opportunity to engage in treatment with a GI Behavioral Health psychologist, absolutely take it! It’s a growing field, so you may have to travel or be put on a waiting list for 6 months (like I was), but the experience was invaluable. I think I’ll definitely return to Dr. R when I need to.

As always, I’d like to wrap up my blog with some useful tips for people who are trying to manage their mental health while recently being diagnosed with IBD.

1. FIND SUPPORT – I needed SO MUCH support to help me cope with the idea that I was going to have a lifelong, chronic disease. Lucky for me I had two immediate family members who were farther along in their IBD journeys than me. If you don’t have natural supports or feel as though you need additional outlets, there are lots of support groups available in the United States. Go to www.crohnscolitisfoundation.org to find your local CCF chapter!

2. Find ways to manage your stress. Guided meditation, reading, and journaling are a few things that I incorporate into my weekly routines to help me manage my anxiety and stress. To be honest, this blog has been an additional outlet for me ~ so don’t be afraid to get creative and find out what works for you!

3. Explore options for a mental health provider. If you don’t have the availability of a GI Behavioral Health specialist, a therapist can certainly provide an outlet for emotional support and stress management tools.

4. Take care of yourself! Exercise, practice yoga, eat whole foods, connect with your family and friends, and play with your pets. Mental health and physical health are interconnected, so if you’re not taking care of your body, you’re not taking care of your mind!

5. Research supplementation. I will probably write a separate blog post on what supplements I am currently taking, but there is growing research on the negative impact that an imbalanced gut microbiome has on your mental health. Finding the right pre-biotic, pro-biotic, or other supplements can help ease anxiety and depressive symptoms.

#crohn's disease #crohn's problems #crohns #ibd #inflammatory bowel disease #mental health #stress #stress management #anxiety #meditation #symptoms #health #physical health #healing #hypnotherapy #therapy #support

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margridarnauds · 5 years ago

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I actually don't know *exactly* what you ship but 1 - 5 and 9 - 13 for whatever your 1789 ship is since I haven't seen it yet and don't know much about it, I jsut like soft HCs

HARD SAME on That Soft Shit

So, Royal Officer Who is Also a Part Time Parrot/Peasant Whose Father He Tried To Arrest For Tax Evasion (and who was killed in the attempt WOOPS)

As a word of warning: Canon has been bent forward, backward, and sideways to support this one, since at least 98% of the 1789 fandom is dedicated to nothing if not figuring out new and inventive ways of twisting canon to our own diabolical ends.

1. Who makes the first move and how?

Ronan. Always Ronan. Probably via tackling. Like, it’s 100% canon to the Takarazuka that this is how he kisses:

There is no helping this boy. He might think that he’s being smooth and suave, but no. There is NOTHING smooth or suave about this disaster. The good news is that there’s nothing ELSE that could get Lazare to take the inevitable hint. Things Lazare de Peyrol is good at: Strategy, shooting things, giving the 18th century equivalent equivalent of powerpoint presentations on how to shoot unarmed civilians, stomping in place.

Things Lazare de Peyrol is NOT good at: Actually thinking that the peasant boy he’s been awkwardly trying to flirt with is interested in him sans a 20 page paper with citations.

“The fuck is this? The fuck are you?” (Also: I REALLY need to remake this gif one day but until then, enjoy it in all its low-quality splendor.)

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

Both of them have their reasons to be insecure. I think that both of them, on some level, always think that the other will choose their side over them. On one hand, Lazare feels really, really insecure that Ronan will eventually choose the other revolutionaries, especially since they all have more in common and Ronan spends more time with them. And, on some level, I think that Lazare is fully aware of what he did to Ronan’s father, what he’s continuing to do with the Revolution, and so there’s this kind of BAFFLEMENT that Ronan loves him. And, meanwhile...there’s not a LOT that’s mentioned about Lazare’s upbringing in-canon, of all of the main cast, he tends to get very little in the way of what we KNOW about him, a lot of the speculation that I do is pure projection/speculation. I do think, however, that there’s enough evidence, at least in the French version, to indicate that Laz was pushed into the army from a young age by his family. Again, not CANON canon, but there are a few lyrics that could indicate it, and there were a LOT of aristocratic officers at this time (Off the top of my head, I can bring up Lafayette and the Marquis de Sade), who got into it when they were about 14. So, Lazare’s never really HAD the stability of a home/family life, and I think there’s this constant dread that it will be pulled out from under him.

Meanwhile, it has to sink into Ronan’s mind at some point that Lazare, unlike him, actually CARES about what society thinks. Lazare isn’t interested in creating a brand new, shiny world, he wants to succeed in the old one. And that means keeping things behind closed doors, marrying someone with a comparable pedigree, doing what’s expected.

As far as what makes them feel better...Ronan’s continued presence is a biggie for Lazare. Like, there’s that worry that one day, Lazare will come back to an empty room because Ronan’s changed his mind, but nope, there’s his boyfriend, sprawled out on their bed, and as soon as he gets in, Ronan’s right there, pulling him closer. And also, even though Lazare gets IRRITATED with Ronan’s “Brave New World” speech from time to time, given that Ronan seems blissfully oblivious to what is going to HAPPEN with that Brave New World (namely, the extinction of everything that Lazare’s known), there’s SOMETHING about the fact that Ronan always mentions that BOTH of them will be there. Ronan started the Revolution for the purpose of revenge against him, but he’s going to end it so that he can create a world where they’ll be together. And despite everything else, that’s oddly soothing, to the extent that sometimes (just sometimes), Lazare likes to imagine what that new world could be like.

Meanwhile, I think that Ronan sometimes is completely taken aback when Laz DOES go that extra mile and shows affection. Like, they’ll be having dinner together and he’ll catch Laz doing a half-smile at something he’s just said, or Laz will take his hand and press a kiss to it, and it’s suddenly like “Oh. Oh. He really does. Like me, doesn’t he?” And it’s moments like those where he realizes that Lazare really IS committed to this one, he just has a different way of showing it.

3. Who is the most romantic?

Popular belief would say Ronan, because he’s the one who’s most outwardly expressive. He’s the one who tends to initiate cuddling, he’s the one most likely to regularly say “I love you,” etc. BUT! Lazare is the one most likely to remember some minor detail that Ronan mentioned once just so he could surprise him with a present, he’s the one who tends to do more quiet, intimate gestures (hand kissing, forehead kisses, etc.) and he’s the one who tends to look at Ronan like he hung the stars when he thinks Ronan’s not looking. And it’s more dramatic coming from Lazare because he ISN’T a natural romantic, he tends to think this kind of thing through.

I just realized there’s a very distressing lack of French 1789 gifs on my computer and that needs to be amended soon, but THIS? Is how Laz tends to look at Ronan in the Takarazuka. (Ignoring the caption since I added it. Even if it’s accurate.)

Keeping in mind that THIS tends to be his default expression:

“Hello, my name is Lazare and I’m dead inside. I have three emotions, one of which is ‘homicide,’ another of which is called ‘Ronan Mazurier,’ and another of which is called ‘I haven’t had enough morning coffee for this.’”

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Ronan. He’s always trying to figure out ways to touch or cuddle with Lazare. If he could, he would totally sit on Laz’s lap all the time in lieu of a semi-decent seat. He tends to “accidentally” manage to get his hands underneath Lazare’s shirt when they’re cuddling or just...tugs him closer. It’s not like Ronan’s ever really been in a situation where privacy was the NORM, since he’s a peasant. You have to figure that all his life, he’s slept at least three to a bed.

Lazare will never admit how much he actually loves it, because he’s been so touch starved all his life that he NEEDS that.

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

With Ronan “most embarrassing” is a very interesting term, since he’s.....Ronan. He’s the EMBODIMENT of “disaster, chaotic gay/bi.” There’s “That time that the illegal press that he was helping run was raided by the police, causing Ronan to go through the sewers. Shortly thereafter, he *mysteriously* gets a new coat.” There’s “That Time Ronan Initiated a Dance Off In Front of Laz’s Boss, Who Happens to be the King of France.” There’s the first time they met, where Ronan more or less called Laz a bitch to his face and got into a fist fight with him. And then, there’s That One Time Ronan got called out by the Queen’s favorite governess and shipped off to the Bastille. Bonus for the Takarazuka and Toho productions, where he’s ALSO hella drunk/hungover at the time. Modern AU Ronan would get hurt after slipping on the floor while dancing to Baby Shark (dododododo). There’s just...never a dull moment.

Meanwhile, it’s a longstanding headcanon of mine that Lazare tends to pace back and forth. This is not in and of itself embarrassing, I say as a chronic pacer. What IS is when his boyfriend catches him mid-pace, making gestures and facial expressions to go along with an imaginary conversation in order to prepare for an audience that he’s not had yet.

10. What two songs, two books and two luxury items do they take to a desert island?

Ronan: Baby Shark (Dodododododo) (No, I’m never NOT going to be on my bullshit with this one) (Lazare regrets allowing him it, but there’s very little that Lazare can ultimately deny him), he can’t read in-canon but in a modern AU I GUESS something that’s

Lazare: Two Steps From Hell - Nero

(Historically, if it was at all possible, it would be a duel between Richard mon Roi and Ah, Ça Ira)

Neither one of them’s a big reader, but I can see Lazare taking along, like, a copy of the military regulations. And maybe a copy of Pamela if he’s worried he might suffer from insomnia. And honestly, in a modern AU, I can see Ronan taking, like, a pulpy gay romance novel about an innocent peasant being seduced by a wicked count. He does dramatic readings of the steamiest bits. Lazare rolls his eyes and turns over in their shared hammock.

Luxury items: Lazare NEEDS his work computer. He doesn’t even need wifi, even though it’s obviously IMPORTANT; he just needs to be able to do his work. There are times Ronan thinks Laz would MARRY his work computer if he could. Also he and Ronan can BOTH agree that water filtration is essential. They are NOT going to die of something easily preventable.

11. What do they hide from one another?

Lazare suffers from traumatic nightmares, and it’s something that he REALLY does not like to talk about, at all, mainly because he considers them to be humiliating. (Just like he really doesn’t like to talk about what CAUSED aforementioned nightmares.) Ronan eventually is able to coax him to talk about it and can usually get him to go back to sleep.

Ronan has been known to tone down just how bad he’s hurt, either intentionally or unintentionally (”I’M ALRIGHT. Oh fuck, I’m not alright. Fuck.”) He tends to call Lazare out on “mother-henning” him when he thinks that Ronan has so much as a scratch on him. (Which is ironic given that we KNOW that if Ronan ever found out that Lazare got hurt, he would make over him just as much if not more.)12. What first changes when it starts getting serious?

Suddenly the stakes become REAL. Like, the Revolution VS the Monarchy conflict really starts to come into play, as they both start to kind of realize that one of them might not survive this. Suddenly, Ronan’s little tendency to get himself into trouble is something that causes a HUGE amount of anxiety for Lazare, because suddenly Lazare realizes that if Ronan doesn’t come back, he won’t be nearly as fine with that as he’d been pretending. Because Lazare’s life rests on stability, and somehow, without him realizing, Ronan had become that source of stability. And suddenly, Lazare’s devotion to the Royal Family becomes even more frustrating for Ronan, as he has to think that every time there’s violence in the street, “That could be Lazare.” He started with the Revolution in order to get revenge on Lazare for he did to his father (”Hello, my name is Ronan Mazurier. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”) but then when the situation FINALLY turns around so that Lazare could actually go down, there’s this sudden “OH SHIT.”

13. When do they realise they should get together?

I mean, in the French version of Maniaque, there’s a Very, Very Interesting place where Lazare goes from using the “vous” form of you on Ronan, indicating a high degree of formality and separation that’s almost TOO polite given their social statuses and that then switches over to a “tu” form. Shortly after male dancers dance homoerotically on stage. Because it’s a French musical. So, in terms of the canon material...........I would say that’s a very good indicator. I kind of like the idea of Maniaque as a back and forth between the two of them, with both of them kind of getting under each other’s skin with their responses. It’s fairly common to read it as Lazare-As-Interrogator, Ronan-As-Plucky-Revolutionary reading, and that’s probably what the writers INTENDED, but...it’s so much more fun imagining them both coming in with this high level of tension and mutual hatred and ending it on a much more uncertain territory.

Personally, since we’re dealing with HEADCANONS though, I actually tend to put them actually realizing that there’s SOMETHING when Ronan arrives at the printing shop and no one even ASKS about where he’s been for the last month and then he has that argument with the Revolutionary Bros. Like, as a warning, this is totally outside the realm of any canon evidence, but I tend to see Lazare as very, very stressed when Ronan escapes and in my own AUs he totally helps him escape because it’s the only reasonable explanation for where the FUCK Ronan’s been staying all this time, and Ronan is at this point where his faith in the Revolution’s at an all-time low, and he realizes that Lazare is the only one who really...CARED about whether something happened to him.

#long post #peyronan #otp: he would be troubled if you died on him #reydiogaga

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benofie · 6 years ago

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6 Celebs I Find Sexy

Rules: pretty basic really, choose 6 smokin celebs and let us know who makes your hot list! (Tagged by @skyshipper )

So here's my thing, I tend to be a fairly monogamous crusher... I tend to fixate hard on one celebrity at a time rather than several at once. And whoever I am fixated on, I CONSUME anything they have ever done that I can get my grubby hands on.

So, at the moment, my one and only is my #1 pick. So I dug into my past intense celeb crushes to fill out the other five. I have ordered them by level of crush intensity at the time...

#6 Benedict Cumberbatch

I was a devoted Cumberbitch/Cumberbabe for a very intense several months after discovering Sherlock. It was a rare instance of me actually being into the "It" man at the time. The Cumber-fascination creeps up on you slowly and then suddenly you realize this man is practically perfect in every way and all other men pale in comparison. He's quite handsome, charming, and undeniably talented as fuck. My Cumber-crush seemed to fizzle after a few months, though, which is why I rank him last. I'm still a huge fan of his work, of course 😊

#5 Charlie Day

Charlie-fucking-Day! He is adorable, hilarious, and more fucking talented than most people realize. He is a bonafide musician in addition to being one of the brilliant comedic geniuses behind It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. And if you've never seen his Commencement speech at Merrimack College (his alma mater), do yourself a favor and check it out. It will blow your mind.

#4 James McAvoy

I've been in love with this man ever since he charmed and bewitched me in Becoming Jane. Another gorgeous, charming as hell, and talented as fuck man. He astounds me in everything I see him in and catching him in an interview is downright panty dropping... As exemplified in this interview with another favorite man of mine (though not a full-on crush), Craig Ferguson. The vortex of Scottish charm is a real thing...

#3 Nick Stahl

This one takes me back to over a decade ago... I had a quite lengthy, very intense, love for this man after becoming quite obsessed with the HBO show, Carnivale. In fact, he makes up the "ben" half of my "benofie" handle which I still use across most social media today! Ben and Sofie were an intense ship/obsession of mine 10+ years ago. Nick was adorable as Ben on Carnivale, super hot as John Connor in Terminator 3, and really showed off his acting range when he played the terrifying Yellow Bastard in Sin City. That trifecta did me in and I was IN LOVE for quite some time. He's had a rough last few years in his real life but I'm hopeful he will stay strong and come back to serious acting soon.

Ben Hawkins:

#2 Tim Roth

This was a biggie for me. Spanning years, distance traveled, deep life devotion on this one. He's an unconventional heartthrob, I know, but I started crushing hard on this guy back when my brother forced me to watch Reservoir Dogs and Four Rooms back to back. I can't quite explain it, I can't put my finger on why, but this man does it for me. I think there is just a sexiness in his mystique and gravitas on screen. He's an excellent actor even though he's never really become a huge star and has mostly been typecast in villain roles. My obsession with Tim Roth was probably the most intense of my life. I went to great expense to obtain every single film in his filmography, if it was possible. There is still a film he apparently made in Africa I've never seen, but if it's at all obtainable, I've seen it. I made friends online who shared the same obsession with him and we all met in Chicago 10+ years ago and had the time of our lives. I even made a treck to NYC to see Tim Roth in a play and yes, I was lucky enough to meet him afterwards and have an actually AMAZING encounter/conversation with him! It remains the single, best moment of my life to date. 😊

#1 Max Minghella

The #1 man in my life at the moment who has gotten under my skin, consumes most of my waking thoughts, and makes me percolate daily... the one and only Max Minghella. A rare departure for me to crush on a bonafide pretty boy 😍 I am not sure if it was his beauty or talent or charisma or undeniable magnetism and off-the-charts on-screen chemistry with equally-talented Lizzie Moss on The Handmaid's Tale, or a combination of all of the above... but this man has taken a firm hold over me and is currently my life obsession. Along with the Nick and June relationship on aforementioned TV show. As with every crush mentioned above, I have devoured everything I can find that this man has either acted in or appeared on. I have loved him in everything and his range is quite impressive. My only complaint is there isn't more of it. He oozes sex appeal and star power. I want to see him be the next "It" man in Hollywood because I think he deserves to be. Oh, did I mention he also writes and directs? I am completely and hopelessly devoted, mind, heart, and soul... 😍😍😍

I mean, come on...

[NOTE: Not my GIF. Unsure of credit on this. If you recognize it as yours, please comment so I can give you credit 😊]

I am not sure who may have already done this and I don't have many I can tag so I will tag @dcgal814 and @supermessgirl

If you've already blogged on this, maybe you can just reblog and tag me 😊

#max minghella #tim roth #nick stahl #james mcavoy #charlie day #benedict cumberbatch

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thesportssoundoff · 6 years ago

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What a 23 page report tells us about Urban Meyer and sports in general

First and foremost, I'd absolutely recommend that anybody who has an opinion on the investigation without reading the investigation findings which can be found HERE (http://a.espncdn.com/pdf/2018/0823/ohiostatepdf.pdf) read it. Read it once, get any sort of emotional issues out of the way and then read it twice with a clearer head. Stuff like this, serious issues about morality and sports trying to co-mingle, often needs multiple lookovers. This one is a neat and tidy 20-some odd pages so it's not like it'll take too much time out of your day and by report standards, it's written clear enough that anybody can parse through it and get it. Also in the following bit, domestic violence is going to come up and while I'm not much for trigger warnings, I do think a fair and honest "HEADS UP!" is necessary for a subject such as this.

The outrage has simmered down. By normal read and react (or just react) standards, the Urban Meyer situation has basically come and gone. His three game suspension is known, we raged about it and people moved on as they often do. It's hard to stay mad at something for too long when social media is basically a treadmill of rage; by the time you get mad at one thing, something else is already coming up so you're never allowed to fully decompress. You can't "get it out of your system" so to speak. I feel like on issues like this when we're discussing potential/alleged violence against a spouse, it matters to read through the reports and try to find the best image possible. Reading through the report I have zero doubt that Zach Smith is an abuser in some form or fashion. If not physically then emotionally since chances are a guy with a severe drinking problem who seems to also have a severe anger issue and poor impulse control probably has no issue yelling or menacing somebody. The report wasn't about Zach Smith's indiscretions (not entirely at least) and was instead about Urban Meyer. It's what I have to assume (because otherwise why read it) a good faith assessment and report on the findings of what Urban Meyer knew, what he alleged to know and what we ALL now know about the Zach Smith situation and how Urban Meyer and Ohio State handled it. For those who wish to care, here are my own personal thoughts based just upon the findings:

1) For SOME reason, Urban Meyer's loyalty to Zach Smith is cast iron which makes zero sense

The 2009 arrest for a domestic incident is discussed and covered pretty clearly early on. Zach Smith brings home a drunk co-worker to sleep on his couch (because why else do you bring a female co-worker to your home to sleep on your couch after a party?) and his wife is upset. It's alleged that Zach Smith throws her against a wall, an allegation that ultimately leads to an arrest but not a charge from Courtney Smith. From there though and spanning two different universities, it sure seems like there's nothing but bad behavior from Zach Smith. From trips to strip clubs (which aren't illicit except for when you're doing it on the company dime/company time) to truancy in paying back bills to the school to other red flags amid the school. The biggie though is the 2015 investigation into more domestic violence allegations from Courtney Smith. At that point, Urben Meyer is faced with a difficult choice on a one v one issue. Zach Smith has to this point exhibited plenty of fireable behavior and now he's under investigation for domestic violence. For some reason Urban Meyer puts up with it, offering yet another warning. At this point Zach Smith continues to act like a problem (it's not illegal to sleep with a co-worker or to take dick pics but it's probably unbecoming for a dude in the middle of a domestic violence investigation to do it and to do it WHILE at work) until the restraining order is brought down in 2018. THEN and only then does Urban Meyer make the move to fire Zach Smith and the move is made, according to the information presented, because Urban was jumped on the news by the media.

For some reasons by which I simply can't comprehend, Urban Meyer's rope of trust for Zach Smith wasn't just long enough to hang himself but to hang Urban Meyer, Ohio State's Athletic Director Gene Smith, the Ohio State University and practically all of Ohio at once. For reasons I can't figure out, Urban Meyer decided that he would stake his perfectly crafted reputation as the guy who viewed this as more than football and who preached family and values and so on so so forth on a guy who ultimately would betray that trust time and time again is just unfathomable. Remember Urban Meyer had Aaron Hernandez on his football team at Florida and he somehow survived the eventual fallout of that with his reputation intact! He rode Tim Tebow and the Tebow-isms of Florida while having guys like Chris Rainey on his team. He left Florida citing health and family, took a year off for a major media gig and then bailed and went to Ohio State for the largest contract in history at that time. This was the world's most bulletproof built reputation and he somehow found a way to ding it over an assistant. Even the report seems baffled, speculating that it may due to Zach Smith being the grandson of a mentor of Urban Mayer's. Even THAT seems like a stretch and IF that's the reason then Urban Meyer got this point politically by accident because no smart man would be that loyal that far down the chain of command. Zach Smith wasn't his defensive coordinator or a close aide, he wasn't a guy in a high spot on the totem pole. He was the wide receivers coach for the love of God. He wasn't there for 15 years having a long track record of proven results. In fact even in 2015 and 2016, Urban Meyer was concerned about Zach Smith showing up late to work (!) and having a generally poor level of performance!

It's stated that Urban Meyer had never fired a coach before and that may have played into it. I don't know the veracity of that claim but if so I guess it makes a little bit of sense as to the apprehension. Still Urban Meyer has truly nobody to blame but himself for all of this because it's not like Zach Smith's character was sterling and beyond question. Anybody who knows me knows I'm a guy who values second/third/fifth/twelfth chances in life. You've probably seen me argue for dudes like Greg Hardy and company, acknowledging the right to be mad at those people for fucking up while also acknowledging the human right to be able to atone for errors and also the right to make a living (as other sports people have argued, what IS a guy accused of a crime supposed to do for the rest of his life? What is acceptable for him? Can he run a store? Can he cook your food? Clean your subways?). Zach Smith just keep making errors and Urban Meyer continued to put him on his coaching staff and the report offers no real solid reason for any of that.

2) "So I’m To Believe...”

My Con Law professor used to start a sentence with "So I'm to believe" whenever he was hinting that somebody was losing their end of a classroom debate. It's stated a few times in the report that Urban and Shelley Meyer had discussions about Zach and Courtney Smith. It was at least known to the couple that those two had problems, so much so in fact that when the 2009 incident between the Smiths occurred, the Meyers suggested a counselor to the duo. As such, I'm to believe is that Urban Meyer and Shelley Meyer had consistent dialogue about everything except for when Shelley was presented with texts of abuse and photos from Courtney Smith? And I'm to believe that Shlley Meyer contacted police about a domestic violence investigation but didn't tell her husband she was doing that? That at no point during this period of time Shelley and Urban NEVER talked about allegations of domestic violence in 2015? Even if Shelley Meyer thought that Courtney Smith was being less than honest about the Zach Smith situation, I'm to believe she NEVER mentioned that to Urban Meyer? It's a lot to believe, ain't it? Shelley Meyer is deemed as "supportive" of Courtney Smith but not supportive enough to say "Listen there's some shit going on, what are you going to do about it?" to Urban Meyer?

3) A three game suspension is worse than no suspension

Honestly there's no "Better than nothing!" here. There are three options here; 1) no suspension, 2) a lengthy suspension or 3) dismissal as the head coach of the Ohio State Buckeyes. To offer up a three game suspension is a slap in the face of the concept of good faith. If he violated enough ethics to be suspended, it should be a much lengthier punishment than three games. A three game suspension is like saying "We don't necessarily think he did anything wrong but we hope you feel better about it!" He won't miss Penn State, he won't miss Michigan State, he won't miss Michigan hell he misses ONE Big 10 game and it's Rutgers! No disrespect to the fine Rutgers football squad but I think Ohio State should be able to manage without Urban Meyer. Again if you feel like he violated something in your code of conduct, suspend him for more than just a quickie three game set. Six games and you'd have plenty of people believing in you. Fire him if you're TRULY convinced he did something wrong. Three games just feels hollow and vacant, like an attempt to make this go away with a terrible placating tool.

4) It's only a problem when a) someone gets hurt by it or b) someone finds out about it

The response of Urban Meyer at the Big-10 press conference is covered but what truly matters are the responses of the people involved. Gene Smith advises Urban Meyer to be as scant with details as possible, Once the shit hits the fan about a potential media snowstorm on Zach Smith, Urban Meyer instructs his coaches to keep the focus on the team and the players. On one hand, sounds like a coach aiming to keep everybody in line and out of the way of what's to come but Urban himself seems to have no idea how to handle the situation either. In fact, he asks people in the organization for details on 2015 which suggests he actually may not have known about it. Now granted that in and of itself is compounded by Meyer's text from before August 2017 of last year disappearing entirely for whatever reason. Strange as that may be. Shelley Meyer expresses concern for the safety of some people (Zach himself? Her family? Courtney?) when she discusses and I quote here on page 12, Section A; "“I am worried about Zach’s response. He drinks a lot and I am just not sure how stable he will be. Afraid he will do something dangerous. It’s obvious he has anger/rage issues already.”" Everything after the fact paints a bad light on what feels like a cover up, even if the information presented seems to suggest something far less nefarious. It has that “It’s only a problem if” vibe to it.

5) Urban Meyer's memory loss is troubling

Urban Meyer is 54 years old and expected to the head coach at a major college university. At numerous times during the investigation, it's mentioned that Meyer either can't recall exact details or just flat out can't remember things. If we believe his texts, Urban Meyer genuinely had no recollection of the 2015 investigation. He did know about it but couldn't remember it per the investigation. In the same investigation, Urban Meyer claims to suffer from memory loss as well. If this is coincidence or an act, he's the most committed actor in history. If it's real? I think we need to ask if a coach who can't remember poignant events in time relating to his coaching staff is truly the best candidate to coach a football team going forward regardless of the ethical concerns.

At the end of all of this, there's some serious ethical issues we need to try and learn from here.

I hope this won’t be the case but I believe we’re all one day going to be in Urban Meyer's shoes. I can't speak for what Courtney Smith has gone through. It's an avenue of life I haven't had to walk and hopefully will never have to walk. Hopefully my sister will never have to walk it either and hopefully no sibling nor mother of anybody who reads this will ever have to walk it. I can only speak for myself when I say that I've known victims of domestic violence and I've known those accused of domestic violence. Domestic violence is a visceral and emotional act; it invokes emotion from those who deal with it and those presented with it. Urban Meyer may truly be a man who values women and abhors those who put their hands on a spouse, namely women who are more often than not the victims. What Urban Meyer may not have been prepared for is the likelihood that somebody close to him would be the accused. It's a lot easier to hate domestic violence until you know the guy who is accused and until you hear them plead with you that they'd never do that. It's harder for you to accept it because YOU want to believe it. Look at your average social media kerfuffle when somebody is accused of something heinous; the majority of the people lambasting them probably turn hat quickly when it's somebody they like accused. We all hate domestic violence until it looks us in the face with somebody we care about. We’ve all probably heard a joke about domestic violence and let it slide unitl it stops being funny when it’s someone you kno wwith bruises. When it's you/us/we, it''s never as black and white, no matter how much it is to everybody else. Even to the very end after firing him, Urban Meyer was telling his staff that Zach Smith needed their help moving forward (on page 11). Urban Meyer was presented on two different occasions with the belief that somebody close to him who he admired was in fault of violating a code of ethics he subscribed (or alleges) to have subscribed to. In those instances, he trusted a man who ultimately in the end betrayed him. Why? I guess it doesn't matter now but it definitely is something to consider. If anything, I suppose Urban Meyer's situation will force us all when/if that time comes to truly question what it is we believe about people and whether or not "*So and so* would NEVER do *such and such*" is really the best way to show faith in a situation as nuanced, painful and complicated as this.

This ethical conundrum of trust and who we trust is magnified with celebrities and athletes and people we THINK we know. Ohio State fans have poured out in support of Urban Meyer with the belief that he didn't know or did the right thing or whatever the case. Our society (and I imagine societies before this) believe we know the people we see on TVs, football fields, basketball courts or on our youtube channels. The star worship is strong and it's getting stronger in part due to the goal of making the world as connected on an individual basis as possible. Nobody wants to believe that somebody could make an error that grave because we "know" them. We "know" them because we see them on TV four months out of the year, follow their tweets and instagrams and believe in something they do to a borderline unhealthy level. We idol worship and just hope like hell we've picked the right idol to bandwagon on. For Ohio State fans, they "know" Urban Meyer's code of ethics because he tells us them and then wins football games. If Urban Meyer did the former and not the latter, would this whole incident just be a convenient excuse for some people to want him gone? We "knew" Bill Cosby because he was funny, right? We don't really know anybody outside of the persona they want us to believe in---and sometimes we all need to remember that before we grab pitchforks or take stances. At the end of the day, I hope this incident convinces people to either wait for a reason to believe one way or another and not allow blind faith and the belief we "know" people to convince ourselves to pick a side long before we need to take one. It's okay to let the facts play out; so long as you're consistent in who you're choosing to let the facts play out on.

And lastly, the biggest problem is one that I think we can all see happening on a day to day basis. That is "When is it okay to talk about somebody's alleged transgressions?" For Urban Meyer and the Ohio State Athletic Department, so much rested on whether or not Zach Smith was charged with a crime. On multiple instances, they admit that a large portion of their reaction was due to Zach Smith not being charged with a crime (that they knew of at least). Even in the end of the report, they state that Ohio State leaving it in the hands of the law was not the best idea in absence of an internal investigation. Ohio State was waiting for the police or a judge to give them some sort of clearance and they waited too long because these things aren't rapid action. They were putting their hands in the legal process to solve their issue for them which is a problem in 2018. It's a smart strategy, I suppose, in that they are the people best equipped to handle that. At the same time, you run the risk of putting somebody else in charge of a problem. "So and so has never been charged of a crime!" doesn't neglect the investigation or the arrest. It's a fine line to walk; being fair to due process while acknowledging an issue at hand. Ohio State relied on the legal system to solve their problems which in turn is the challenge for pro sports today. We acknowledge that leagues/teams aren't equipped to deal with legal matters and yet we want them to. Why? Because most people don't really trust the legal world either. What is due process in 2018 and how do we balance good faith with our emotions?

#football #Urban Meyer #thoughts #meandering rambles #too much words

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