#suddenly it’s about mental health but fuck that girls mental health the entire time right?

[acuar-io]

The Grammys this year had me realize they don’t gaf if people have rape allegations and abuse allegations against them. They’ll still invite u and pay a tribute to u bc u died

[cator99]

I love making phone calls I love sending emails and being overall pleasant to interact with I love looking for solutions and being eager to understand how the world around me operates and to ask people about the role they play in this beautiful world I love being able to tell that other people are excited for any reason at all to strut their shit in this way and I always take notes on how they do it. It's all so funny to me. I am doing this because I am an insane person. I am the best person for the job. I am like the inverse of Jude St Francis. Born in a wet cardboard box doomed fucked in the head and forced to make an accommodation with life BUT I think its cunty and will commit awesomely violent ritual seppuku when my life is at its absolute peak. But yeah I dont get anxiety anymore if I dont like something it I can just thank them for their time and then find a way to leave and literally do anything else no one really cares as long as you do it right and you know like you can just keep looking for better things you literally never know you might turn out to be really passionate about fish mongering and didnt even consider it and it's not always easy but if the alternative is unbearable then fuck it pack a bag and stick your thumb out on the highway and spend 2 hours chatting about life with a fat 60 year old semi truck driver with photos of his happy fatty family plastered over the entirety of his dashboard and who was concerned why some kid was wandering the highway without a jacket and is nothing but totally kind and appropriate towards you which you kind of didnt expect when you hit the road but then you get to the city and go to an orgy party at some xi/xirs apartment who you met while on a psychiatrist-approved leave to attend an LGBT youth summer camp during the tail end of your 4 month stay at a youth mental health/detention facility but you can't stay there because his 40 year old housemate just announced that he's moving to the states and suddenly wouldnt be contributing to next months rent and didn't want to say anything until the night before when his boxes were being actively moved out of the apartment in order to avoid any sort of confrontation and the resulting altercation is heart breaking this 40 year old workig professional gay dude just absolutely betrayed this screwed up teenaged lesbian with no hesitation but maybe the drug fuelled sex parties had something to do with it but im just there stoned watching some tv show about anthropomorphic fast food and xe really did care about me but this was not the time to be pulling some cutesy whimsical runaway shit so we said our goodbyes and xe gave me directions the youth emergency shelter. As far as I was concerned, I was living the dream. This was just the "hard" part. I broke the high score on the ancient tetris machine at the day-shelter and barely ate anything because they relied entirely on donations and for whatever reason nobody thought to donate anything gluten free. I slept in the girls quarters of the cold shelter we were taken to every night, driven in huge vans by the staff at the day shelter. The girls were primarily quiet and didnt want to talk or even look at anyone. Some of the native girls were chill to play board games or watch tv with though. The guys were real rough. Mostly drug addicts. Mostly violent. They were known for treating each other terribly. I was told I could "use whatever rooms or washrooms that align with your gender identity". I told them I'd rather use the room that made me less likely to have me end up raped or my pillow pissed on.

[canisonicscrewyou]

DUNNO WHAT OTHER ANON WAS TALKING ABOUT BUT I CARE. tell me about it

I have been meaning to answer these for like a hot week. Take my hand(s). Come with me. This AU is excellent if you don't care too much about canon and if you want to permanently ruin the way you watch Eleven's run w the Ponds. This is also just straight infodumping.

This post is both shorter and longer than I expected. I can talk about this for ages so this is truly one of those topics that’s like If You Have Any Questions At All About Fobwatched Rory!Master AU GimmeGimmeGimme I Will Always Be Down To Talk About Him/Them.

The gist is that this is an AU where Rory Williams is still Rory Williams. It’s just that Rory Williams should not exist? It’s just that Rory Williams Definitely Did Not Exist until some busted TARDIS fell into a backyard in Leadworth in the 90s and sat there to rot. It’s- It’s just that Rory Williams is a front. Was made up. Rory Williams is genetically human. Rory Williams has a fobwatch that has been harboring the Master for as long as Rory Williams has existed.

The background is that the year is 2012 and this is a headcanon being tossed around because the Master has not even been alluded to in Eleven’s run. Criminal. This premise was promptly stolen by me and ruined my brain for the next 12 years. There are a handful of fanfics that explore this premise, it’s been Too Long since I’ve read any so I truly don’t have any recommendations right now.

So. We have Rory Williams.

You may ask me “Hey, Andrew, in 2012 when other people were playing with this headcanon, was there anything in canon that could have supported this? Not because you NEED to justify headcanons and AUs with hard canon. I’m just curious.” and I say thank you for specifying. YES. Definitely. Totally.

I hope this helps :)) No straws were being grasped :)) It will be like 3 more years until Missy is introduced :))))) Some of us were starving :))))))))

So now that that’s some fun fandom lore established let’s settle this bastard (the Master)’s timeline…

From the Doctor’s timeline: Eleven has not actually seen the Master. Eleven’s last time seeing the Master was Simm!Master being dragged back to Gallifrey before the regeneration tour. The Master is dead.

From the Master’s timeline: Missy is dying. Missy is trying not to die and is effectively kickstarting a new regeneration cycle.

There are two priorities here: Get far away from the Doctor and get far away from any version of themself. In fact that new regeneration cycle might take time to fully develop. Doubly in fact, the Master’s TARDIS is not in good shape.

Solution: chameleon arch.

Rory Williams is not meticulously planned as a human. Rory Williams didn’t even have a name made up when the Master was both regenerating and going under the chameleon arch. There was no planning or time to plan. There was just going, and hoping for the best, because the chameleon arch will sort itself out just fine. (wrong)

Amelia Pond moves to Leadworth with her family as a young girl.

The night Amelia Pond settles into a house with a crack in the bedroom wall, a TARDIS crashes in someone else’s backyard in Leadworth. And Brian and Mallory Williams suddenly remember that they were supposed to be renovating their daughter’s bedroom (that strangely looks like a home office at the time), and put Rory Williams to sleep on the couch after he comes wandering in from the woods out back.

Rory Williams meets Amelia Pond the literal next day, and immediately, unknowingly, the youngest 7 year old in existence Fucks The Master’s Whole Shit Up For An Entire Millennia.

About a week later, the Doctor crash-lands into Amelia Pond’s backyard, and there is literally too much going on for him to even get a HINT that his Best Divorced Enemy is taking a ✨Mental Health Break✨ a few blocks over.

Amelia tells Rory all about the Raggedy Doctor she met and he does not question the weird anxious feeling in his stomach at all, because this kid is dealing with other things, like transgenderism and hanging off of Amelia Pond’s arm and also her Every Last Word. He will get dragged into games of Raggedy Doctor until they are at least 15 and will look at all of her Raggedy Doctor fanart and trinkets and listen to her borderline religious obsession with this character and is the only person in Leadworth aside from Mels to not look at her funny or tell her its all A Bit Too Much when she starts ranting about him. He decides early on he wants to be a doctor. Or maybe a nurse.

curb your enthusiasm.mp3

Everything from Eleventh Hour on is… Pretty accurate. The Master isn’t even really involved. The Master is in an old antique wristwatch somewhere in the Williams’ house, buried in boxes in Rory’s closet. I’m sure there’s a joke there somewhere.

Rory Williams is just. Like that.

The Master has no hand in Rory Williams’ sheer inability to die.

Every time Rory somehow evades inexistence the Master is pleasantly surprised. It makes absolutely no damn sense how this random human managed to escape death multiple times. It makes no damn sense that he just so managed to become an Auton just so he could guard his girlfriend for 1000 years (for the Doctor, but it’s important that every move this man makes is in Amy Pond’s name. The Doctor doesn’t even cross Rory’s mind when he decides to watch over the Pandorica.).

Rory Williams does not think much about how anxious he feels in the TARDIS. Somehow, the TARDIS makes him feel claustrophobic. Somehow, he feels like he isn’t welcome there, though nobody around him would give him that impression, ever. He does not think much about how he understood how the TARDIS worked immediately outside of the one article he read on dimensional travel. There is a period of time where he thinks the sickly feeling he gets in his stomach looking at the Doctor is just him needing to unpack weird feelings around his own bisexuality and Amy teases him relentlessly for it, because honestly, it’s just mortifying that it’s the Doctor of all people.

Around the Power of Three, Brian Williams is downsizing. It’s just him living in Rory’s childhood home now, no reason to hold onto all of these boxes of things.

Brian discovers an old, busted wrist watch in Rory’s childhood bedroom, buried deep in his closet shelves where he frankly never even touched. There’s some part of his memory that tells him it was from Rory’s grandfather, some hand me down, a gift for a christening, something. Rory should have this watch. Rory would want it. Next time he sees Rory, he gives it to him.

Rory is now aware of the watch. The Master is now aware that Rory is aware of the watch. The watch has gotten incredibly claustrophobic. The Universe resetting itself doesn’t take away Rory’s centurion stint, and it doesn’t apply to streams of consciousness that are hidden in dusty Time Lord tech. Rory does not want to open the watch- there is a part of Rory deeply self aware that if it’s opened, he will no longer exist. Every fiber of Rory’s being feels compelled to open the watch. The Master does want to open the watch- but the Master does not, cannot have, the watch opening around the Doctor. Neither man wins in this scenario.

You are the Master. You explicitly chose some random coordinates and fobwatched yourself into some random human with a random backstory. You somehow wound up best friends with the person obsessed with your ex that you were AVOIDING. You all traipse around his TARDIS together. You die and come back multiple times for this girl, this woman that you hooked onto immediately. Your daughter marries that same fucking ex. You couldn't have pranked yourself harder if you tried.

You are Amy Pond. You shouldn't really exist but you do against all odds. And you do not deserve any of this.

When the Master comes out(ha.) it is messy and awkward and nobody has a good time. There is no discernible reason why the Doctor should believe the Master going “oops !! oopsie !! well this is awkward isn’t it !!!!” while wearing the face of his best friend’s husband, and a very good friend of his own, and also technically his father-in-law. The Master is also aware of this. The Master is, actually, feeling kind of guilty that he killed Amy Pond’s husband right in front of her?

The Master has been locked in a state of half-regeneration for 1000 years. The Master has been in Rory Williams head, and likewise the Master has had Rory Williams in his own head. The Master is softly aware that there is something different in him this time around. There is something that feels decidedly human, sickly and overly emotional and cagey. There’s also just plain dysphoria when he looks in the mirror as himself, as the Master and not Rory, for the first time, something that absolutely fucks up the Master who is A. A Time Lord who has regenerated dozens of times B. Up until this point frequently operates on the idea that “Any Working Body Is A Good Body”.z

Eleven hates his guts. Amy is not fond either. (I am convinced that if that watch opened up without the Doctor around at all he would’ve immediately snatched up Amy and forced her to be his best friend even if she didn’t want to. I am certain that if Rory opened the watch at a few specific points the Master could’ve absolutely just willingly whisked Amy away to be his own companion and they would be sooo fucked up together.) It is uncertain to everyone involved whether or not River knew this was a possibility, let alone something she knew would even happen. The Master is spiraling. The Master is also lonely, both in the present and in the memory of being Missy. The memory of a Doctor who doesn’t exist yet. Rory Williams is a ghost that haunts the Master until he regenerates. Rory is in his sudden knowledge of how to properly bandage a burn. Rory is in his hesitation at saying the coldest and cruelest thing he could think of to get a reaction out of Amy Pond. Missy is in the inside joke he quips to the Doctor before realizing that the joke hasn’t happened yet. Missy is in the way he wonders if the Doctor even had a chance at remembering this regeneration of his since the whole timeline is disrupted, so does it actually matter what he does with it? Between Rory and between everything that happened with Missy and the Saxon Master and Twelve, is he actually what he perceives as the Master anymore? Or will another version of himself eventually just come along and put him down like a sick dog for not performing correctly, too?

Rory haunts the Master in the way that the Doctor can’t look at the Master’s face without revulsion for ages. Until the Master is grasping at straws, and suddenly insisting that the Doctor look him in the eyes. And he does- he just barely does. It’s not what he was expecting, but he does it. The Master grabs at his wrist and there’s a desperate insistence to the way he says it, the most pathetic “Say My Name” to ever fall from any regeneration’s lips, and when the Doctor does say “Master…”, it’s only to follow up with “Master… Are you okay?” because NO he clearly isn’t. The Master is quite obviously never okay but this is different, nothing is working the way it used to, nothing sounds right and even the Doctor isn’t doing it right and it’s clearly(/s) all just because of Fucking Rory Williams.

Anyways. It’s about haunting your own narrative and it’s about how to best fuck up a Time Lord who was Too Human For Too Long. It’s about giving the Master empathy and both gender and social dysphoria and an identity crisis.

It's also about Amelia Pond and Rory Williams, two human beings who by all accounts should NOT exist at all, finding and loving each other because two TARDISes crash landed in Leadworth in 1996.

In Conclusion:

P.S. while I’m here: Him Face (Also important to note that if you’ve read this far in, congratulations, you get the added fun fact of knowing that in this the Master’s TARDIS is a horribly beat up and graffiti’d vending machine. It’s not stuck like that. It’s just how his TARDIS prefers to present, and shockingly, the Master’s TARDIS refuses to listen to a word he fucking says.)

[peachymilkandcream]

Teacher's Pet|Part 4|Teacher Levi x Student Evelyn

WARNINGS: implied noncon/dubcon, yandere themes/behaviours, power imbalance, manipulation, mind breaking, blackmail, violence, mentions of mental health struggles, age difference, misogyny, kidnapping, etc.

===============================================

Throughout the course of the nest week something felt...off. Peers that she had started to befriend and get to know started to not become distant and ignored her. It was like all her hard work regarding friendship was gone. Even her own roommate, who she hadn't gotten to know super well but who had been friendly enough to her seemed super closed off now, and that Evelyn made her uncomfortable.

She heard the whispers of rumors going around but not grasping the whole story. All she knew was that they were rather scathing of her character and everyone was talking about it. Everyone was talking about her.

She wasn't sure what caused it, her school life was becoming more distant and lonely, no one seemed to care about her at all and preferred to keep their distance. Those that didn't openly mocked her for every little thing. What was going on here? She was on a campus full of people but she felt entirely isolated.

The loneliness ate at her so much that she finally broke, confronting her roommate directly as to why she felt like she was living with a complete stranger.

"Hey, have I, done something to offend you?"

"What? No- of course not-" She was lying, clearly, unwilling to start a confrontation right here right now.

"It's just that, we used to at least talk to each other and now you won't even look at me. Please, tell me what I did wrong and I'll never do it again."

"It's nothing can't you just leave me alone?"

"No, I have to know. Everyone on campus is giving me the cold shoulder, I can't even begin to make friends when no one is willing to give me a chance. Please, tell me what's going on."

"Shouldn't you know that yourself?" She spat suddenly.

Evelyn was caught off guard a moment. "What? How could I know? I don't know what I did?"

"Look Evelyn, I'm sorry. You seem nice enough but I don't want my name attached to you."

"Just tell me why!"

"Because you're a boyfriend stealing slut! Everyone knows it. A desperate for attention girl who sends nudes to any guy who's number she has. I don't want to be around that!"

Evelyn was dumbfounded, what the hell was she talking about? "Where did you hear that? It's not true!"

"Everyone says that you regularly go to frat parties just to have as many guys who are willing to have you. That you were jealous that Petra is so popular with guys that you started throwing yourself out there until you became more popular than her. Then you started sending nudes and some girl said you slept with her boyfriend knowing they were together and talked shit about her while fucking him."

"Listen to me, I haven't done anything like that. It's just a lie! Something someone spread!"

"Do you have proof that you didn't?"

"Of course not! You just have to take my word for it. I wouldn't be that type of person. I'm a virgin, I've never even had sex with a guy before. Please, believe me."

"Sure, whatever you say Evelyn." She brushed past her and out of their shared room.

================================================

Evelyn's roommate moved out a week after their conversation. Apparently she had begged to change dorms so as not to have the association attached with Evelyn's name. So far no one wanted to move in with her given the current reputation that she had. She couldn't live like this, she had so much time at school left and it was being ruined by shitty rumors. Where could they have come from?

She reviewed the current allegations against her in her head. And the only conclusion she came to by the end of it was clear. Only one thing stood out. That she was jealous of Petra for being popular with guys.

It was right then that she had a feeling who was spewing all this crap.

Evelyn got herself ready as best she could, steeling her nerves as best as she could manage before marching out of her room. She was going to give Petra a piece of her mind.

[runwithwolvcs]

You Know I'm No Good

Rewritten

Chapter one

Warnings: Drug and Alcohol Use, Mental Health, Self Destructive Behaviour

Tallulah Forrester wasn't supposed to be out. Like, obviously. But there's only so many times you can stare at your ceiling, counting the glow-in-the-dark stars you stuck up there when you were twelve and still believed in wishes, before you lose your actual mind. Besides, she was basically a professional at this point - the careful slide of her window, the silent drop onto the grass below, the way she could time her exits perfectly with her mom's alcohol-induced sleep schedule.

God, she was such a cliché.

The thought hit her as she sat on Wyatt's suspiciously stained couch, vodka burning pleasantly in her veins, making everything soft around the edges. Sneaking out? Drinking? Hooking up with the resident bad boy? She might as well be the protagonist of every YA novel ever written. Except those girls usually had some kind of redemption arc waiting for them, and Tallulah? She was pretty sure she was just spiraling.

Wyatt wasn't helping. He was looking at her weird tonight, all intense and focused in a way that made her skin prickle uncomfortably. They had a thing - had been having a thing for about a year now - but it wasn't supposed to be... whatever this was. It was supposed to be simple. Easy. The kind of arrangement you could walk away from without looking back.

"Damn, Luie," he said, his voice rough with alcohol as he invaded her personal space. "You look fucking hot tonight. Like, seriously..."

Tallulah's heart stuttered in her chest. This wasn't their script. Their script was simple: party, hook up, pretend it never happened, repeat. There weren't supposed to be compliments. There weren't supposed to be feelings. That's why she picked him in the first place - because Wyatt didn't do feelings. Everyone knew that.

"You're drunk," she said, trying to laugh it off, but the sound came out all wrong, like static on an old radio.

His grin turned predatory, dark eyes fixing on her face with an intensity that made her want to crawl out of her own skin. "Yeah, I'm drunk. But it doesn't mean I'm lying." He shifted closer, his thigh pressing against hers. "Luie, you've always been beautiful, but tonight? Damn."

The vodka bottle in her hand suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. She should have known better. Should have seen this coming. Should have realized that nothing in her life could just stay simple and uncomplicated. But that was Tallulah's whole problem, wasn't it? Always thinking she could outrun the consequences of her choices.

"You're just drunk," she repeated, the words falling flat between them. "You don't have to say that. You're fine. Just—just chill."

But Wyatt wasn't chilling. His hand found her leg, fingers splaying possessively above her knee, and Tallulah felt her entire body go rigid. The bass from someone's speakers vibrated through the walls, matching the erratic rhythm of her heart. This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong.

"Don't act like you don't know it, Luie," he murmured, leaning in close enough that she could smell the tequila on his breath. "I can see it in your eyes. You want this too. You want me, right?"

Three words flashed through her mind like emergency sirens: Get. Out. Now.

But where was she supposed to go? Amelia had disappeared an hour ago with some lacrosse player, probably making out in someone's parent's bedroom. And wasn't that just perfect? Her best friend was living her best rom-com life while Tallulah sat here drowning in her own bad decisions.

She looked at Wyatt again, trying to find the guy she'd been hooking up with for the past year - the one who kept things casual and never asked questions. Instead, she found something softer in his expression, something that looked dangerously close to actual feelings, and panic clawed its way up her throat.

"I need to go," she blurted out, the words tasting like copper in her mouth.

Wyatt blinked at her like she'd started speaking in tongues. His hand circled her wrist, grip just tight enough to make her pulse jump. "Come on, Luie," he said, voice dropping into something that might have been meant to sound soothing. "You don't have to go. I don't get it. You're fine. You've been here a hundred times, right? Just... let it happen."

The words hit her like a bucket of ice water, washing away the pleasant buzz of alcohol and leaving nothing but crystal-clear clarity in its wake. She couldn't do this. Not tonight. Not ever again.

"I really gotta go," she said, voice trembling like a leaf in October, and god, when did she become this person? This girl who shook and stammered and let boys make her feel small?

She yanked her arm free and stumbled to her feet, the room tilting dangerously around her. Wyatt stared up at her, confusion morphing into something darker. "What the hell, Luie? Come on, it's just us. You want me, I know you do."

But Tallulah wasn't listening anymore. The walls were closing in, the air growing thin, and she had to get out. Had to find Amelia. Had to find anyone who could pull her back from this edge she'd been dancing on for too long.

"I can't stay," she mumbled, backing toward the door like she was facing down a wild animal.

Then she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her with a finality that felt like the end of a chapter she never should have started.

She had to find Amelia. Had to find something - anything - to anchor her before she drifted too far into this ocean of bad choices she'd created for herself. Because as much as she wanted to believe that everything could stay casual, stay uncomplicated... she was so far past that point now. The walls were closing in, and she was about to lose herself completely.

-------

Tallulah's room looked exactly like what you'd expect from a teenage disaster: half-empty bottles hidden behind AP textbooks she never opened, clothes strewn across the floor like confetti after a party no one enjoyed, and everywhere, the evidence of a girl trying desperately to be anyone else but herself.

She slipped through her window with practiced ease, the cool night air raising goosebumps on her arms. The silence felt wrong immediately - too thick, too intentional. And then she saw why.

Winona Hayes sat at Tallulah's desk like she'd been waiting there all night, which, knowing her mother, she probably had. The desk lamp cast harsh shadows across her face, deepening the lines of exhaustion that seemed permanently etched there these days. The sight made Tallulah's stomach drop like she'd missed a step going downstairs.

"You're home," Winona said, her voice flat enough to land planes on. She didn't need to ask where Tallulah had been. They both knew the answer would be another lie anyway.

Tallulah shifted her weight, feeling suddenly dizzy with more than just alcohol. "I was just at Amelia's," she said automatically, because that's what good daughters did, right? They lied to protect their mothers from the truth of who they really were.

But Winona's eyes narrowed, and Tallulah knew she'd made a mistake before her mother even opened her mouth.

"I spoke to Amelia's parents," Winona said quietly, each word dropping like a stone into still water. "They called... asking if you were okay. Amelia told them you were having an emergency."

Well, shit.

"I—" Tallulah started, but the words evaporated on her tongue. The room spun slowly around her as she tried to find solid ground, something to hold onto. Her fingers found the hem of her sleeve, twisting the fabric like it might somehow provide an escape route.

Winona rose from the desk with the careful movements of someone trying not to startle a wild animal. When she spoke again, her voice carried the weight of a thousand disappointed sighs. "Where were you, Tallulah?"

The truth slipped out before she could stop it: "Wyatt's..." The word hung between them like smoke, impossible to take back.

Her mother's sharp intake of breath cut through the room like a knife. For a moment, Winona's face went perfectly blank - the calm before a storm Tallulah had been running from for years.

"I told you not to see him." The words came out tight, controlled, but underneath there was something raw and desperate - the sound of a mother watching her daughter self-destruct in slow motion.

Tallulah backed up until she hit the wall, wishing she could just phase through it and disappear. The air felt electric, charged with all the things they never said to each other.

"I—I'm sorry, okay? It was just... I don't know. I don't know why I—" The words spilled out of her like water from a broken dam, but they weren't enough. They were never enough.

Winona held up a hand, and Tallulah fell silent. For a moment, her mother looked impossibly tired, like she'd aged ten years in ten seconds. She crossed the room with measured steps, each one echoing with finality.

"We'll talk about this in the morning," she said quietly, but they both knew what that really meant: We'll pretend this never happened, just like we always do.

Tallulah wanted to scream, to explain, to make her mother understand... what, exactly? That she was drowning? That she didn't know how to be the daughter Winona deserved? That she was sorry for being such a spectacular disappointment? But she just stood there, frozen, as her mother opened the door.

"I can't keep doing this," Winona said, her voice cracking just enough to break Tallulah's heart. For a moment, there might have been tears in her eyes, but she was gone before Tallulah could be sure, the door clicking shut with devastating finality.

Tallulah stood in the middle of her room, heart pounding against her ribs like it was trying to escape. She wanted to run again - it was what she was best at, after all. But what was the point? You couldn't outrun yourself forever.

She'd pushed away everyone who might have helped - friends, family, teachers, even her own reflection in the mirror. And now she was left with nothing but the bitter taste of vodka in her mouth and the crushing realization that maybe she wasn't the hero of this story after all.

Maybe she was just another cautionary tale waiting to happen.

[deepestuniversallove]

Hey I literally logged in just to give you support. Don't listen to these idiots telling you that you're gross for loving Mewtwo.

Because if loving Mewtwo is gross then the entire monster-fucking community should also be shamed but they aren't hmmmmmm I wonder why.

The degenerates in this fandom are perfectly fine with Ash fucking Latias, and men fucking Gardevoir, Vaporeon, or whatever slutty monster girl bitch of the week, but nooo you self shipping with Mewtwo is apparently cONcERnING or whatever.

(I love how no one calls the Hatsune Miku guy names lol, do I smell double standards? )

But this doesn't surprise me because the Pokemon community is full of hypocrites and these are the same no - life losers who shit their pants because Ash isn't in the anime anymore, their parents truly failed in raising them.

Lord knows I faced enough trouble for loving Steven and that too, from an Eevee fucker.

Monika, sweetie you are doing nothing wrong, your love for Mewtwo is so innocent, sweet and pure. I think it's beautiful how helped you with depression and escape your narcissistic mother.

People on this site love to preach mental health support but the very minute you do something different yet harmless suddenly it's

"OH NO YOU DARE TO LOVE A "FICTIONAL CHARACTER"

Keep on giving them rectal bleeding and draw more of you and Mewtwo ;) I love to see it.

AHH thank you so much for this message!! 🥹 That is so sweet of you!

Yeah, I dunno why it has always been like this. Even 10 or even 20 years ago, I often got messages chastising me for selfshipping with Mewtwo, calling it "nasty" and "degenerate", when really, i am not doing it to specifically be a degenerate, but because I honestly love Mewtwo. In his story, he too had to fight against a narcissistic "parent" (Giovanni), just like I had to against my own. How can it be seen as a crime to want to believe? Or has it been wrong to say "Mewtwo, please teach me to be brave like you" in my mind during the hard times, especially back when I was a lonely child?

Haha, I doubt anyone could ever shame the monster fucker community out of what they are doing. Or the furry community for that matter. 🤣

There always seems to be some sort of underlying misogyny happening. Women are expected to get an IRL husband/boyfriend to serve as soon as possible, so seeing a woman openly rather selfship with a fictional character is threatening to them, because how dare a woman not be in the kitchen and make sandwiches for a man? How dare a woman prefer to be single when there is a "male crisis of loneliness" happening?

Then again, I don't think I owe society anything. Where was society when I was abused? Where was the help or the community when I needed them most? I was left to my own devices. When a fictional character like Mewtwo brings someone like me more hope than any IRL human, that's how I know we failed as a society. Even sicker is that other more destructive forms of coping mechanisms are more encouraged. Somehow selfshipping is seen as more evil by the "moral police" than dying from a drug overdose on the streets or having alcoholism.

Anyone who ever complains to me about "ruining Mewtwo" or whatever - no, you aren't "concerned", you are just using that word to camouflage that what you really want is control over me and what I put out there. And i can tell you it is futile. I haven't survived so far just for some snotty brats to tell me what i can or cannot do in MY online space. Don't like what I post? Tough titties, use the block button. No one is forcing you to look at my "cringe". My cringy stuff brings me joy and makes me happy, and I feel I deserve some happiness in this shitty world of ours. You do too, so just..go and have some fun yourself. Don't waste your only life on policing others.

So yeah, you are right, dagdasgoddess. I will keep giving people "rectal bleeding". 🤣 No one can stop me from loving Mewtwo, my guardian angel that even visits me in my dreams at night, and loves me even when I absolutely despise myself. He will always be a bastion of love for me, a symbol that life is worth living regardless of hardships.

[anachronistic-falsehood]

Ok before I answer any more asks, I feel like I need to get my full thoughts out there. This might be a bit long, but I have a lot to say.

First off: I am very impressionable. I always have been and I always will be. I am well aware of this. When people tell me things, I often believe them at face value. I’m trying to get better at that, which is why I tried to stay neutral this time around when everything first came out. Then I removed myself from the situation for a couple days, came back to it today, forgot to beat my hyper empathy into submission for ten minutes, and found myself almost believing him one hundred percent. I almost forgot about his first response, where he lashed out and threatened to sue people over this. I also tend not to focus on situations like this often because it’s really bad for my POCD. I am bad at this. I need to preface this post by saying that.

I don’t support Forever anymore. I can’t, not after everything that’s happened over the past few days, especially after seeing his original reaction, which was to get mad and threaten to sue and to brush it all off as just twitter drama. And he still brushed it all off as twitter drama in this most recent stream. He didn’t even acknowledge how old the alleged victim was, which means a lot of people who only knew of this through his streams don’t know that he flirted with multiple girls as young as 13. He said it was just jokes, but he did privately message at least one of these girls and meet her in real life, even if it was within a group of people. Things can happen even within a crowd.

There had to have been more things that happened behind the scenes for all of his friends to suddenly drop him. Whether it was some kind of proof that he was aware this was wrong as he did it, or if he lashed out at the other ccs for initially unfollowing him when this all came out, I don’t know. But he handled this very immaturely in his first response without even looking into the issue, and I don’t feel right supporting him anymore.

Still, and hate me for this if you want, I can’t help but sympathize with him a little bit. I know, I know, but I was a shitty person when I was a teenager, and I’m constantly paranoid that things I’ve done or said will stick with me forever or come back around to bite me in the ass. Hell, I have done and said things when I was 17 that would get me dogpiled on twitter if I was a cc. I do understand why he was upset. Knowing that he has mental health issues because of repeated twitter hate mobs does make me feel sorry for him in that regard. Just because being exposed for past actions may have been deserved this time doesn’t mean that excessive hate was deserved every single time, nor is it deserved for every cc who has fucked up in the past.

However, he was very immature with his initial response, and him pushing this off as just a twitter cancellation is enough to tell me that he does not quite see that he was in the wrong. He keeps saying that he’s matured and that he’s better now, as if that alone is supposed to absolve him of any kind of responsibility. I think he handled this wrong, and I don’t want to support him anymore.

As for q!Forever, I know he has a lot of similarities to the cc. That will be too hard to look past for a lot of people, and if you don’t want to engage in content that includes him anymore, that’s well within your rights. I still love q!Forever despite that, and I personally will still consume content that includes him, and I don’t want to write him out of the story of the smp. We can do the same thing we did for c!Dream and basically adopt him as our own oc. q!Forever can be our character now if we want him to be, and we can still acknowledge that Forever put a lot of work and thought into his character and appreciate what he did for the smp while not supporting him as a creator anymore.

And finally, I also don’t like the way that this entire situation was handled in general by the fanbase. The person who did this (as far as I’m aware) was dedicated to going after ccs for generally trivial things. If they wanted justice for this, why not bring it up before now? Why not before he joined the smp? And the victim didn’t want any part in this as far as I know, and yet people went after her demanding comments on the situation. Twitter kept celebrating the ccs dropping Forever like it was some fun party, just like people have been doing for the whole Dream situation. Twitter hasn’t handled this with any sort of tact whatsoever, and many of us here on tumblr (myself included) have been more invested in arguing and over correcting our own actions and phrasing when some biased people bring up invalid points to actually step back and take a break.

We’ve all been on the defence from each other. People on here have criticized each other’s views, invalidated other people’s experiences, and thrown insults and names at each other like this is a playground fight instead of a serious situation. The situation is over. Let’s just breathe.

[heystephen]

oh no what did blackbear do :( -ebd anon

so the full explanation is that for the past 10+ years, bear was dealing with chronic pancreatitis and other chronic illnesses along with struggling with his sobriety from hard drugs the entire time. he basically thought he was either going to die or spend the rest of his life in severe pain, and understandably this contributed to his poor mental health as well! well, last year he had an operation to remove his pancreas, and in his words, this gave him “a new lease on life”.

throughout the last five years leading up to his surgery, he was dating and then married to michele, and they have two boys together who are 3 and 5. she took care of him while he was sick both physically and mentally, with multiple surgeries he had over years, through the good and bad days with his sobriety and relapses, and so on. he wrote on the last mansionz album that she quite literally saved his life, as did his boys. everything is normal, hes even talking about wanting to try for a third kid. so.. suddenly, he gets this surgery and his New Lease On Life™️ and announces a separation. then wipes his family from his social media entirely. bear’s fans tend to be good at questioning him and holding him accountable, so he was met with a lot of side-eyes from us to which he said that he was not leaving his family to fuck around w/ 20 yr old e-girls and party, even though his instagram feed and tags told the opposite story. he’s basically entirely regressed into the person he was before he thought he was dying or going to be sick for the rest of his life right down to hanging out w/ the same ppl again. so in late january, he flew to japan to be with arzaylea (her existence is a whole other batch of lore), michele posts pics from their son’s 5th or 6th (i lost count of how old midnight is!!) birthday party where bear is very noticeably absent, and then he hard launches his new relationship with arzaylea yesterday. all of it in general is just bizarre and ugly to me tbh. but i hateeee that there’s two little boys involved, and michele is such a sweetheart.

[rightpastnowhere]

MORE. FOR U

Ok ok ok we all collectively will not shut up about how Percy is endeared by Vex's ears, right? well UNO REVERSE CARD! His lil round human ears are so fucking cute to Vex. It's also very funny for her to parse out how sensitive they are vs half-elven or elven ears.

In modern AUs their taste in music seems very different at a glance but meshes SUPER well. Percy is rocking to MCR and anime intros and Fallout Boy and old rock'n'roll (that his dad and Julius loved), Vex is grinding to pop and country, and everyone is like 'surely not' until they pull up to give Pike a ride and are just blasting a Taylor Swift song together (she joins in obviously). Or on a train sharing earbuds and the poor folks the next seats over can hear Monster by Skillet from there and these two are mouthing along and sharing Dramatic Looks.

Trinket keeps bringing cubs home. He's a male bear, bears don't raise cubs in pairs (males don't participate at ALL), but he's a Ranger companion and lives as long as Vex does. And given he's a fit specimen he's probably the sire of a lot of cubs in the area (Vex and the Grey Hunt have got to watch out for inbreeding effects KJTRNHRKN). So every now and then he'll find a hurt or abandoned or sick cub and bring it back, and Vex nurses it back to health (and Dan too), and suddenly they Have Another Bear. Oh Dear. Sometimes Vex and Trinket make a conscious effort to train the cubs to live in the wild and release them a ways away once they're old enough, but the three bears we see in C3 is Only The Beginning.

The first time Percy tried really growing a beard, Vesper made Unhappy Faces when he'd give her kisses and in a fit he shaved it all off. He needed some talking-tos about it. His baby girl was SO upset and it make HIM upset OKAY -

It's advised that guests do not wander the halls of Castle Whitestone alone at night. They assume, naturally, that this is due to Ghosts or Restless Spirits - no the de Rolos are just. like that. Cass would rather everyone avoid the trauma of hearing them having a good time. Also the kids' darkvision means they have shining pupils if light hits them in the dark and someone fell down the stairs once so there's that too.

Percy fucking agonizes over blue now. Getting a gift to match Vex's feather takes up at least 3-12 hours of a given project. At this point he has custom paints mixed for it and will scour stalls and shops for gems of the right turquoise.

He also owns way more fur than he'd expect, because Vex is a ranger and can at least make a decent muffler or trim for mittens or ruff for his winter coat out of some of her more impressive catches. His favorite, though, is a tiny fur thing that's badly worn. Vex insists it's a bird. *it does not look like a bird,* it looks like a pointed rock with two bead eyes. It was the first thing she tried making him and it, well, it didn't come out as she'd expected. He still stims with it often, it practically lives in his pocket - like she was in Pandemonium, when VM were transformed into birds. She says she hates it, but his earnest adoration for this little silly thing she made really makes Vex so damn happy.

OH MY GOD SHE WOULD LOVE HIS EARS,,, HIS LIL ROUNDED EARS,,, SO SOFT N ROUND,,,,,,,, OMG

YOUR MUSIC TASTES FOR THEM ARE SO IN LINE WITH WHAT'S IN MY HEAD NGKJRNGK. vex imo has the most chaotic playlists because there's just one for all of her music. it switches from lizzo to mumford & sons without rhyme nor reason. and they WOULD be taylor swift stans with pike i LOVE THIS. AND GOD,, THE MENTAL IMAGE OF HER AND PERCY DRAMATICALLY LIP-SYNCING LIKE HUGE NERDS..... MY CROPS ARE WATERED. MY SKIN IS CLEAR

THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING NGKJRNKJGNR i simply think vex deserves an entire legion of bears who love her, and many of them on the castle grounds. only the best for the grand mistress of bears. (trinket mimicking vex's adopting behavior is SO CUTE I'M GONNA CRY)

percy upsets his baby One Time and suddenly he must change everything about himself. i love him so much i cannot stand it

NKGJNKJENG the de rolos fuck nasty and it is a burden upon those who think themselves to be fearless... my heart goes out to the unlucky few who dare. ALSO THE FUCKING. QUARTER ELVES. JUST LIKE A BUNCH OF CATS IN THE KITCHEN AT 2AM WHEN YOU WANT A SNACK. IS PERFECTION.

GERKGNERJN percy will do anything to maintain his wife's aesthetic

VEX CRAFTING HIM THINGS...... PERCY KEEPING HER FIRST LIL BAUBLE BECAUSE HE LOVES HER................ STIMMING WITH IT CAUSE IT'S SOFT................................ picturing vex finding out and endeavoring to acquire so many soft things, making him a bunch more knick-knacks once she's better at it, wearing soft clothes, just, oh my GOD she loves him SO MUCH

thank you again for this absolute unfathomable joy, i squeaked out loud at least 3 times, i am full of serotonin once more

[cordycepsfem]

So I haven't been able to watch the triumphant (?; I've heard mixed reviews) final season of "The Umbrella Academy" because I've been enjoying struggling with the dual-firing cannons of bad mental health and medical issues blasted directly at my face, with neither showing signs of letting up.

But I still have time to troll my favorite haunts, and tonight I read a post that very correctly encapsulated my thoughts on why Season Three was such a fuck-up. I've written about it before, but one of the things that irritated me about Season Three was the way everyone patted themselves on the back loving how the transition from Vanya to Viktor was so seamless... when instead what happened was the writerly equivalent of being shot in the face with an ugly, piece-of-trash pistol, and then everyone telling you that you should have known better, that gun's been around since Act One, under a spotlight in a glass case on a velvet pillow, no less! Of course it was going to be shot!

I didn't even do well in playwriting in college and yet I know you don't fire off a gun you haven't established existing. So when "Viktor" says things like "I've never liked looking mirrors" it's like "Girl, when?" Not to mention the incredibly insensitive way "Viktor" says that being in a lesbian relationship was what inspired "him" to transition. Really? You were finally happy in a relationship with a woman but realized in order to be in that relationship you needed to be a man? How homophobic does this gun have to be?

Apparently I'm not alone in this. User "Right Cross" over at the New Zealand Fruit Farms was able to succinctly describe Season Three. I know many of us have mixed feelings about the New Zealand Fruit Farms, but despite their reputation they usually have correct information and occasionally thought-provoking posts.

"Everything that happened in the latter half of Umbrella Academy is a fucking tragedy."

Ellen Page transitioning after the scripts had finished causing a massive re-write and Thomas Page McBee, another trans man, was brought on "ensure that the storyline where Viktor comes out as trans was handled with care and respect." So much was done to make sure that Ellen was respected that anything resembling what Umbrella Academy was ceased to exist. Here's a short example: The family, who is always at each other's throats and are vicious with their insults and actions with one another find out that their sister Vanya, (who they all have a significant distaste for even before she ended the world twice), is now going by Viktor. The family is in a heated discussion when suddenly Vanya mentions she is now Viktor. You would expect that any one of these insensitive siblings would comment negatively on this behavior. Even if they are all secretly identity politics progressives, surely any one of these people would find some mean thing to say. It doesn't need to be transphobic. It could be anything. Anything to show that the characters and the writing are still intact, any type of snide remark that could show that the writers haven't completely assassinated all of their characters. Not one thing. Not only do they all accept her, they praise her. From this point on in the entire series, Viktor the character receives no meaningful pushback or character interaction, despite the amount of screen time he is given. Viktor is never on the back foot. Not in combat or dialogue. Viktor is no longer treated as a character, only as a tool. He becomes completely static. Viktor is always the last one standing, literally, in the final confrontation in Season 3, where he is the only one who has the power to do anything about the situation they're in. Every single scene with Victor is pandering garbage. He even gets asked to be the 'best man' of one of the brother's wedding. Everything about Season 3 is so creatively bankrupt that it is insulting. Viktor is the best man? Not Five? Not Klaus? Most egregious, not Diego? Someone who Luthor has had a rivalry with since the beginning of the series, but we have been able to see them grow to be true brothers and friends? Season 3 is a narcissistic love letter. Attempting to write scripture showcasing that she could live the life of a man with infallible masculinity. Wishing that those who she cares about would accept and praise her choice to transition. That she would be asked to receive one of the highest honors another man can get, being the best man at a wedding from someone who truly cares about you. From being someone who is powerless in their own body and hates themselves to someone who is confident, strong, and always in control. Not only against enemies, but friends and family as well.

[xplrvibes]

So another TikTok came up on my fyp about Colby having a gf, lol and they even showed the pictures of them looking like they’re holding hands, I’m sure you know the one, but they also attached her Insta account and also attached a post of what she’s wearing in the pic, which was dated all the way back in March (I did a little stalking myself) regardless if this was recent as the comments are saying, then I don’t think it’s her. Or these pictures are only surfacing now, but why would the creator say that they met them and said they were flirting all night etc, sounds to me it’s all for attention.

I'm aware.

And honestly- and this is not against you, anon, this is against the people that will not stop spreading this all over the platforms Colby and this girl are on and tagging them in this drama- but this is the entire problem with this situation, wrapped up in a neat little bow.

Colby went on what was possibly ONE CASUAL DATE; a date he did NOT in any way, shape or form make public, advertise or- and this is the important part, here, the part that flies over everyone's head for whatever reason- CONSENT to having made public. A "fan" (and boy do I use this term loosely) saw him out with this girl and thought, "Oh man, everyone needs to know that I know that he has a girlfriend!" and took a sneaky ass photo behind his back and without his or this girl's permission and spread it around everywhere, while simultaneously telling every that they saw him holding hands, flirting and kissing this girl.

Within hours, the alleged girl's instagram was found and dissected, her followers suddenly included a whole lot of accounts with "xplr" or "colby" in the handle, and she suddenly started getting inundated with people on her live streams asking her personal questions about her age, her intentions with Colby Brock, and demanding more info from her as if they have the right to know this shit.

At the same time, I saw people expressing disappointment in Colby for being with this girl instead of Shea/Stas/Kris/Amber etc (I saw them all, don't worry). One commenter was upset that he broke Kris' heart with this. Several commenters and people on here started with the "see? Colby's a tramp" routine that some of y'all just sit on pins and needles waiting to be thrown around. Others started in with everyone's other favorite Broadway musical "How Dare Colby Make it Public That he's Hooking Up (Why Must He Throw This in Our Face)?"

Meanwhile- COLBY. DID. NOT. CONSENT. TO. THIS.

He did not make this alleged date public information himself; nor did the girl allegedly in the photo. He did not ask for this "fan" to do this either. And this started the SAME FUCKING DAY that a podcast came out where he expressed having a breakdown because he can't handle social media consistently interfering in his life, and now he values his privacy so much more because of this.

And still, this is where we are at.

By the way? This "fan" confirmed Sam was also there on a date, and was flirting and kissing the girl he was with. Guess who I haven't seen a single sneaky non-consentual photo of, disparaging comment about, or any drama over?

Wanna know why? Cause the "fan" states they were protecting Sam's privacy cause they didn't want him to get hate.

Think about that. Really sit with it. Let that sink in.

Let this entire situation and all the nuances of it sink and paint you all a picture. And then come tell me what that picture is.

First person to guess correctly wins a prize.

To your point, anon, this was all done for attention. It is continuing to get spread for attention. But the attention is coming at the expense of the mental health of a man that every claims they love so much (they don't, or they would just gossip about this shit quietly and behind closed doors like everyone else with sensitive knowledge), and therein lies at least 50% of the problem.

[l1e1n1i1]

my job has opened my eyes to the type of mother i want to be and know i can be, i cant help but feel bad for the child inside of me. i wish i could have protected myself. i wish i could have felt loved. i find my job incredibly healing, i wish i could end the day in a home that aligned with the healing i feel, but its almost like i enter into this house ive lived in my entire life, the same home ive endured most of the worst moments of my life, and i and a zombie.

this is the same bedroom that broke me as a child, that i tried to end my life in as a teen, that i was beaten and raped in right as i entered adulthood, and then continued the cycle in. my brain goes from enjoying my day, laughing at funny videos on my phone, to looking at a spot on my wall and sinking back into the things i wish i could forget.

since my toe was broken i have been thinking about going to the hospital for a mental health break. and honestly, if i could take my phone with me to simply answer work texts, i might be more inclined. i want so badly to open up completely. i will never forget the time in planned parenthood when i had one of the abortions i had with a (who knows what fucking number) and the social worker was asking the typical questions. "are you here because you want to be, are you being forced to be here, etc etc." and everything was fine until she asked me if i have been forced to have sex and have been hit and she started crying and that was one of the moments that really opened my eyes like holy shit im making this woman cry by simply answering yes, maybe i should reevaluate. its one thing to hear friends tell you that you deserve better. when you grow up in therapy since age 6 being told everything is your fault it kind of means a lot to have someone validate you.

then i had to talk to someone else, she apologized and suddenly im in a new office with a different woman being given resources and thanking god.

too bad i was so fucking naive calling all the numbers leaving messages practically begging for help and nobody returned the calls. and maybe i should have kept trying but its really hard to continue trying when the cops take his side and im getting told hes making mistakes and im to blame.

and then with j this past summer in 2024 i was pregnant. hated myself because a few months prior i could have had s but of course kept the cycle going. read a book about domestic abuse "survivors" and you will get my entire story. it's pretty humbling and saddening to realize that i am living the same life as so many women, and sadly i am lucky for not being killed (am i though?)

had to get an abortion, planned parenthood. was kind of thanking god for the few days leading up, considering he kept putting his hands on me. my mistake was getting the first appointment. i guess they doing have social workers that early or something. got beaten and then went to bed, cried but told myself i cant have a baby with someone that hurts me, especially as i am carrying the chlid, and told myself that i could open up with the social worker in the morning.

woke up to us fighting. why do my parents never hear it? they didnt hear a beat me they dont hear j beat me? (meanwhile when i talk to s on the phone december 2024 my mom tells me she can hear my laughing and its too loud? broke my heart to think maybe she does hear the stuff in my room and ignores it. ignores her daughter getting thrown to the floor and punched.)

we fought and he told me he wouldnt take me to get the abortion. i cried and begged. had 2 big bumps on my head from where he punched me. told myself in just 1 hour i would be telling someone what i'm going through. maybe i could have some hope again, be the type of girl to call for help and leave messages.

but i had the first appointment. didnt get those questions. didnt have the chance. i thought about saying something when i was on the table getting fentanyl through the iv, because i had to be awake during it. then i was too out of it and i dont remember anything. i wish i said it and could remember. i wish i could feel the words float off of my chest. even as i type this i feel a bit lighter, it sucks to hold it all in. but i am so ashamed. and honestly after going through everything with a i should just be grateful im not scared of being killed,

i told myself if i was with s i wouldnt be dealing with that. maybe i would have to get an abortion, who knows, but he would never punch me when i was pregnant. at least, i dont think so. so scary to think i could be so easily tricked and trapped into the same cycle and with guy number three it would be so much harder to leave.

maybe a month later we had another fight. broken toe and stitches for me. lots of apologies. my brain thought about s. i wouldnt have a broken toe if i was with s.

[kamorth]

This all happened around the time I was in my mid-30s and just figuring out my own asexuality. I had identified as bi since 16 (no attraction to anyone is still equal attraction to everyone so with the limited language I had in the 90s it was the only thing that made any sense to me) and finding the Aspec labels had me feeling like a teenager again. Not always in a good way. My now QPP had explained that he was ace and researching to try to understand him better had me doing the whole "but that's normal, isn't it? NO ONE gets the cartoon hubba hubba effects, it's a logical choice based on merit and compatibility, right? Right?" thing but eventually I got it through my head and had my OH moment. Then I did it again with aromanticism.

Now I'm SUPER happy and making leaps and bounds in mental health recovery. I stopped hating myself after 3 decades of deep self loathing. I finally make sense to myself.

That almost never happened because of this shit. I had so much internalized garbage I had to work through (a lot of it is still on this blog because sometimes I like to go back and remind myself how far I've come) and the whole "queer is a slur" thing ALMOST caught me (newsflash from 2014 for anyone who missed it: EVERYTHING WE CALL OURSELVES IS A SLUR BECAUSE THE BIGOTS TAKE OUR WORDS AND USE THEM AS INSULTS. IF YOU BAN A WORD FOR BEING A SLUR THEN SUDDENLY WE CAN'T TALK ABOUT OUR EXPERIENCES AT ALL AND THEY FUCKING WIN THAT IS THE WHOLE POINT OF THAT CAMPAIGN STOP DOING THEIR WORK FOR THEM ALREADY FFS PEOPLE!) but enough people who were much more experienced with this kind of bigotry kept yelling and some of it made its way to my dash and omfg the LANDSLIDE of deprogramming that started in my head was unreal.

I started really looking, like REALLY looking hard, for the logic behind these "reasonable" sounding arguments like protect the children and some people might get triggered if you use that word and it's just straight white girls wanting to feel special and OMG THEY'RE INVADERS AND RESOURCE THIEVES and the harder I dug, the less those things held up. How is "some people never want to have sex and that's okay" any more dangerous for children than "sometimes two adults have sex to make a baby"? If I had been told that as a kid I probably never would have had sex at all. I was just trying to prove I wasn't broken, so if I had never felt broken to begin with... As far as triggers go, I absolutely cannot handle certain kinds of kittens at a specific age. There is a very good reason but if I try to talk about it (even in conversations about what causes triggers) I get accused of trauma dumping so just trust me. Anything can be a trigger. We need to be able to communicate anyway so do what I do when people post dumps of kittens. Fucking suck it up and accept that it's not a personal attack and take it in context and get the fuck over it. Every. Single. Argument. They had just completely collapsed under any kind of scrutiny. Think about it for longer than it takes to scroll down the post to click reblog and it just utterly disintegrates.

But they never stopped. It didn't end. Once the arguments had all been rebutted to the point where they didn't have a single post that wasn't shot down in the notes, they just shifted targets and started again. They jumped to "pansexuality is biphobic" and then drove that all the way back to 1996 with "bi girls are just straight girls who want to invade gay bars and bi boys are just gay cowards" so that they could demonize bi people too. Then when that got old (quickly, they recycled stuff too soon and were using it on a burned audience) they jumped back on the TERF bandwagon that had been running and picking up steam the entire time.

It's the same garbage arguments from the same garbage people every single time, but that means they get a lot of practice with them. There's always a new audience somewhere.

Thank you to all the people, like those in the thread above me, who keep shouting about this crap. You are the reason I know better now. I was never a TERF but they almost got me a couple of times and people like you are the reason they didn't. Your posts and your ranting and raging and righteous wrath does work.

I don't think younger/newer users fully grasp the shit show that ace discourse was around 2014-17

It was so hostile that, to this day, discussions that begin to derail just enough can make me physically nauseous, some specific mockery trigger crying sessions years later. We lost most accounts with any sort of ace positivity. There was no information, no support, and all this damage was done predominantly by other queer people.

All this to say that you, however you identify yourself, should be engaging with aphobic comments the same way you do any hate. We don't sugarcoat or try to be comprehensive with people who are blatantly racist, homophobic or terfs, so why give it a pass just because it's coming from a queer person? I see how this tolerance goes and it's done enough damage as it is.

[yuzukult]

after midnight 03 (m) || jjk & reader

title: after midnight 03 - midday pairing: jeon jungkook x reader genre: angst, smut, fluff, fwb!au, fuckboy!jk, doctor!reader word count: 6.7k warnings: unprotected explicit smut a/n: help,,, this took longer than expected, and i'm not sure if i went the right route?? took a lot of guts to not deactivate bc of this stupid ass writer's block jk not really to not delete this chapter and rewrite from scratch without guilt, like all my fics :D hope you guys enjoy it!! (also im too fed up to proofread it so,,, sorry)

You’re not a psychiatrist, it’s not your specified profession. You don’t diagnose mental health—the moment your patients start showing signs, you’re to contact a specialist to handle the situation because technically, you’re not well equipped enough to deal with what happens after the moment of a scene.

But Jungkook has definitely gone insane and somehow it’s your responsibility to take care of it.

Scoffing in disbelief, you can’t help but glance at the clock yet again. It’s after midnight, a time you’re familiar with seeing Jungkook at, and the fact that it’s still this hour and he’s here is just evidence of a relationship that keeps making the same mistakes. “Why do you keep pursuing me? It feels repetitive. I say what I want, then you completely disregard it. Does it ever matter to you as to what I want?”

“Well, do you want me?”

“It’s not about you,” you snap, brows furrowing in frustration. It’s beginning to feel like anything you say to him goes into one ear and out the other. “It’s about what I want in my future, and what you can’t give me in return.”

“But you don’t even want that! You just think you want it because your sister is on her way to have it.” Tips of his ears reddening, the heat that lingers around his neck only gets hotter the more he speaks. “Why did you suddenly want to go this route? You wanted to be a career woman.”

“I can be both a career woman and a wife while bearing children, Jungkook.”

He clenches his jaw. “You never voiced this before.”

But something about your eyes—softening like a stick of butter that’s been left on the counter at room temperature, or the way that one tasty raspberry pastry you brought to his house on your nightly endeavors, the sweetness melting the second it touched his tongue. “To be completely honest with you, Jungkook, I never thought I would have the opportunity to.”

The look on your face haunts his dreams that night, the glint in your eyes is displayed for all his heart aching purposes. He never thought in his life that he’d come to this—begging his own fuck buddy to stay. To fucking stay with him, and not to even take a minute to steal a glimpse at someone else. If it was another girl, he’d be quick to say he could move onto the next in a heartbeat but something about you specifically has him drawn like a magnet.

Hand resting underneath his head while on his pillow, his eyes are glued to the ceiling of his bedroom. There’s emptiness that inhabits his bedsheets, it seems to be missing you and your curled up frame beside him while snoring away from a long day at work. It’s all fun and games, but you’ve always been the exception; the “sore thumb” in that simile everyone uses, the one in his life that somehow defeats all of these rules that he’s set for himself. When you tell him, “we don’t have to be exclusive, but I won’t sleep with anyone else,” never sits well with him, and when your terms became, “you still need to get properly tested if you’re seeing other girls,” he decides that wasting his time with other girls weren’t worth it and he’d just… stay loyal to you.

But what prompts him to do that—he’s not actually sure.

You’ve done what a lot of other girls haven’t done: slept over the entire night, somehow managed to earn a top drawer in his dresser, there’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom, and your favorite mug sits comfortably in his cabinets, designated only for you to use.

There’s even a time where Jungkook’s friend, Jimin, drops by and compliments that stupid mug of yours and asks if he could use it. Jungkook couldn’t say no fast enough.

These are things he would’ve been put off by if it were someone else. He’d tell them to leave, to stop trying to push a space into his heart when he doesn’t want anyone residing there. So… why is he reluctant for you to leave, when you’re the one doing it willingly?

Was it his ego? No, he doesn’t think it could be. Jungkook knows what a hurt ego feels like, but this is entirely something else.

Maybe he likes you? Well, of course he does. You’re cool. He’s never met a girl like you before—not to make you seem like you’re “not like other girls” but he means it in the way that you know what you want, and you don’t spend a lot of time trying to sugarcoat it either. You’re unapologetic for expressing how you feel, but you’re also very easy to make compromises with.

But, that’s a lot of people right? Jimin is like that. Yoongi is too. He likes having friends like that.

Albeit, he doesn’t want to be… just your friend?

Particularly more, hence why he’s so okay with how things are now, but he’s left puzzled because he doesn’t like relationships. He doesn’t like the burdens and obligations that come with it, but for some reason, when he thinks of you… those things suddenly don’t feel… that way?

Jungkook shakes his head. It’s easier to forget that. But he can’t control himself—whenever you say that you don’t want this anymore, something inside of him comes out, some possessive green eyed monster that overtakes his senses.

Maybe he does like you.

Maybe… Jungkook has to come to terms with the fact that this feeling he has for you is… actually okay.

Or not. It should definitely not be okay.

To your surprise. Jungkook approaches Dr. Hyunjin on a regular, boring Wednesday (probably with the intention to grind your gears), and part of you is glad that he doesn’t spot you behind the nurses’ station.

“Hey, uh… I’m looking for a specific doctor here,” Jungkook says, but it’s not a question and also not really a statement either. But when your name escapes from his lips moments after, Dr. Hyunjin’s face brightens in recognition, and something stirs in Jungkook’s stomach. This doesn’t feel good.

“Oh, she’s just over there. I’m Dr. Hyunjin. Is there a reason for your visit? Who are you to her?”

“Other than gettin’ my stitches out, you could say she’s my girl.”

Cringing at the possessiveness his sentence holds, you crawl out from behind the counter with an apologetic look toward Dr. Hyunjin. “Sorry, doc, uh, this is my patient, Jungkook. Don’t mind him.” Turning back to the boy, you scowl. “Come back later, I’m busy.”

Jungkook shakes his head smugly. “Nah. I came to see you, so... Imma see you.”

“Well, since she’s busy, I could always undo your stitches, Jungkook,” Hyunjin has such a pearly white smile that matches his eyes, bright and sparkly like he’s some perfect model in a magazine. He doesn’t even need photoshop, that’s how handsome he is. The more Jungkook notices the prince-like qualities of Hyunjin, the tighter Jungkook clenches his jaw. “If that is, you don’t mind?”

Jungkook doesn’t like Dr. Hyunjin, and he doesn’t want his stitches to be taken out by some nurse or him. He wants just you, and you only.

“I’m good,” he snaps, gesturing to you. “I could just stay here ‘til she’s free.”

You sigh heavily. “Jungkook, this is the ER. It’s busy my entire shift, plus more. I don’t have time for your shenanigans, I have other patients to tend to.” The glare you strike at Jungkook doesn’t faze him one bit, in fact, it entices him to strengthen his stance.

“I can wait for you, baby.”

This changes something in Hyunjin, promptly straightening his posture from resting against the wall. “You know what, I’ll take care of your next patient. You can help Jungkook here, he seems to be more comfortable with you.”

Before you could say anything else, Hyunjin already had his focus narrowed onto the patient charts that you were aiming for next, earning a defeated expression upon your face. “I—Alright, then. Thanks, again, Dr. Hyunjin.”

He turns to sneak a glance at you with the warmest smile on his face. “For you, call me Hyunjin.”

Laid back on the bed, Jungkook takes off his shirt swiftly, throwing it onto the chair in the corner of the room without care. His eyes suddenly aren’t glued to you like they normally are, attention diverted out the door and onto Dr. Hyunjin. “What’s up with that guy?”

Pulling the latex gloves onto your hands, your brows furrowed at his abrupt question. “What guy?”

“Dr. Hyunjin,” he says in a mocking tone, his nose twitching along with his words. Jungkook doesn’t know much about that guy, other than he’s got this lovestruck gaze when he looks at you, like you’re the prettiest girl in the world. In Jungkook’s mind, only he is allowed to look at you like that, even though he has made claims he doesn’t like you in that way. “What kind of doctor lets his patient call him by his first name?” He scoffs. “Totally unprofessional.”

“He likes getting personal with his patients,” you reply casually, rolling a stool by the bedside. “It helps get them to trust him since they’re going to be under his care. It can be difficult trying to get patients to trust their doctors.”

“I trust you. But you don’t have me calling you some weird name—”

“Does that really count though? We knew each other prior to that,” quirking a brow, you drag your metal tray table closer as you take a seat. “Why are you even asking about him? Did he say something that got under your skin?”

“Yeah,” he exhales, watching the way Hyunjin speaks tenderly towards the patients, and the hospital employees that pass by. Jungkook’s head then shoots in your direction. He’s been so distracted by the doctor that he doesn’t even realize that you’ve reached for the tweezers, ready to unravel the stitches in his abdomen. “You know, he asked me who I am to you..”

You freeze, barely even grabbing a piece of the thread. You heard fragments of the conversation, but was there more? “... What did you say when he asked?”

“Of course I told him we were seeing each other,” he sneers, in disbelief that you would even ask that. “Are you interested in that guy?”

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. There’s a lot of reasons why you don’t talk about your personal life at the hospital—the main reason being that word travels fast between the thin pieces of drywall of this place; it’s the only source of entertainment since what broadcasts on those small yet thick CRT televisions that require antennas to get signal. Shows on there are practically on repeat; the same several episodes of a few shows are on a loop and action news channels. But who wants to hear segments on horrible things occurring in the world all the time?

Deciding it’s best to cool down, you resume grabbing each knot in his well-healed wound gently. “Jungkook, I don’t like people knowing what’s going on in my life here. Plus, we’re not even really together. Does it matter if I’m interested in Dr. Hyunjin? Now I have to clear the air between us.”

Jungkook snarls at the name. “Hell yeah it matters. I also want to know why you keep rejecting me whenever I ask you to be my girlfriend?”

“Because you don’t want a relationship, Guk. You say it like a religious chant except you don’t believe in God unless you’re talking about yourself— ‘I don’t do labels.’ Remember that? Because I do. It’s exhausting having to repeat myself and continuously having this same conversation again.”

Of course he remembers that. Not only because you always bring it up at every chance you could get, but because when he contemplates the relationship between the two of you, the answer is always right there in his face. You’re gorgeous, there’s no doubt about it, and you’re smart, curious, and considerate so effortlessly. To put it shortly, you’re sort of the whole package.

You’re the girl that parents are impressed with when brought home. A doctor, for one, highly intelligent while able to hold conversations about things like politics, higher education, social issues and so on, but at the same time, you don’t have a problem with talking about the simpler things in life, like television shows or even stupid memes that everyone comes across on Instagram.

And the thing is, Jungkook doesn’t like girls that make his parents proud.

But strangely enough, he likes you.

“I want the label this time,” he admits candidly, hand finding purchase on your wrist to halt your movements. There’s some truth in his words, but mostly uncertainty. He’s never done this before. “I want to be your boyfriend—the whole shebang or whatever.”

There’s something about those swirls of dark chocolate that he calls eyes, dreamy long lashes that brush against the heights of his cheeks in slow motion while your heart does the opposite and palpitates endlessly. He’s soft, dulcet gaze locked onto yours, charms practically bait to swoon you over. But this is Jungkook, all games, no seriousness. Even this moment of daze won’t get you caught in this tangle of lies. Fuck boys stay fuck boys.

Composed, you unravel the boy’s grip off you. “Cute, Jungkook. You actually should consider auditioning for roles or something, I almost believed you for a second.”

Those girls at clubs wearing skin tight dresses or skirts that were so short he could see their panties without them bending over entirely, the ones that circled around him, gawking and giggling endlessly at his stories about the scars on his body while “coincidentally” showcasing his toned body to them, and the nurses that practically pounce on each other just to sew stitches of his stab wound together were all just… women. They’re the women he’d in the past consider as one-night stands, ones he’d flirt with while alcohol infiltrated his system, and ones he’d hoped to never see outside of the bedroom or at a nightclub. They don’t hurt his feelings, despite him hurting theirs.

But the way you disregard his comments so easily, the way you crinkle your forehead while in concentration, or how you make cooking seem as simple as brushing your teeth in the morning, and the way you walk as if unaffected by anything, unaffected by him in particular, boils Jungkook’s blood. Or the way you annoyingly have a rebuttal for whatever it is he decides to spit out that day because more often than not, Jungkook likes to make douchey comments. But when your words are sharp, his feelings get a bit hurt.

There’s things about you that he hates yet loves at the same time, and truthfully, ever since you said you wanted something serious, the thought of your hand in his is starting to sound tempting.

“What do I have to do to convince you that I actually do wanna date you?”

Pulling out the last knot of thread, you let out a laugh before jokingly answering, “Date someone seriously.”

Challenge accepted.

Well, sort of.

Jungkook doesn’t see himself with any other woman, no matter how hard he tries. He’s not a hopeless romantic, quite the opposite, because before you, he never even could imagine someone under his arm. He doesn’t think like those guys who only see one woman in their lives—but rather an abundance of them, all in queue to be his. Albeit lately, it’s just been you that’s running through his mind lately. But what’s strange is that these past couple weeks, he also… kind of wants to try harder for you, in order to impress you and show you his worth.

But it’s weird. Because yes, he’s coming to terms that this might be what he wants—whatever this is with you—but he doesn’t like the looks of it. It makes him seem weak, fragile, and domestic, the last thing he wants to be seen as.

“Alright, then let me date you seriously.”

You glance up at the boy. “That wouldn’t be proving anything to me, would it? You’d just be doing what you want to do. You don’t want what I want.”

“You keep saying that, but you’re not giving me a chance here,” he says, exasperated. “Like… lemme get a shot at this or something, try whatever that shit you’re drinking that’s got you so loopy in the head. Bring me as a plus one home, to meet your parents and whatnot. See what kind of relationship your sister has, what kind of dynamic your family has, and maybe I’ll be roped in too.”

“Jungkook,” you sigh, shoulders slouching. “That’s a lot to take in. I’m not asking you to do any of this, you realize that, right? There’s no obligation, there’s no request. I know that you’re not into it, so I’m not gonna probe. So why do you keep probing?”

“I… I’ll be honest. I don’t know. But let me try or something.”

You don’t say anything for a couple seconds, letting the silence bleed through the room while you’re sinking into your thoughts. If you don’t let him at least try, he might never really know or understand what it is that you want. He may even feel more motivated; he’ll believe that he knows you best (he just knows your body best, to be quite frank, not your emotions), and continuously probe you and practically second guessing everything.

But the thing is, it’s not your job to show or elaborate what you want. He’s just a fling, nothing else.

Just a fling that makes your heart skip a beat, flush with jealousy when he’s with another girl, and intriguingly think of him during parts of the day when something reminds you of him.

Did you.. Like him?

Quickly, you shake your head from letting your thoughts drift off and cross your arms on your chest. Maybe it’d be easier if it was just Jungkook, instead of having to go online to find dates, ask friends for a “connection,” and even resort to embarrassingly asking your mom to set you up. If not Jungkook, then it has to be those options. “Saturday morning. Pack an overnight bag, and be ready around 7am. Be prepared—this isn’t some regular hookup where you accidentally meet their parents in the morning. This is my parents, and you’re doing this because you want to try, right? Well, here’s your shot. Start trying.”

“God, so you got daddy issues or something cause you fuck so good.”

Fuck, if you don’t wanna choke him so badly. And not in that kinky shit way either.

Nothing is more stressful than bringing your boyfriend to meet your parents.

And it slightly makes it worse that he’s not even officially your boyfriend.

Your anxiety levels are off the charts; hands perspiring, heart racing, and stomach churning are symptoms for it. Just the thought of your mother’s reaction when she sees Jungkook nearly has you shivering in fear, more afraid than when you were twelve and standing in an auditorium full of people for a spelling bee competition, and ending up spelling “daily” wrong because you misheard it for “dairy.” Or during med school, when you’re presenting to a classroom full of renowned doctors who would definitely talk shit and ruin the path of your inexistent career before it even started.

“What’s up with you?” Jungkook asks, shifting in his seat on the passenger side of your car. It’s a little weird seeing him in that spot, especially since… the two of you rarely ever go anywhere together except to each other’s apartments. “Why do you look so… jittery?”

“I’ve never brought home a boyfriend before,” you admit awkwardly, adjusting your seat belt strap for the thirtieth time. Traffic hasn’t moved in a couple minutes, and your impatience is gnawing at your insides. “My parents are a bit… strange. My sister too. They’re traditional in their ways but they’re also not?”

“And you’re… telling this now,” he says it jokingly, but the tone goes over your head because you’re falling into quicksand full of consternation.

“Do you want me to turn back?”

“What? No, it was a joke.”

“It didn’t sound like a joke—”

“Baby,” Jungkook calls you out sternly, watching as your forehead crinkles in confusion. The use of the term of endearment is different this time around, not utilized sexually or flirtatiously, but comfortingly. And peculiarly enough, it’s working. “Want me to drive? You seem tense.”

Releasing a deep breath, you finally relax your shoulders and let your body melt into the driver’s seat of the car. “I’m a bit nervous.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Jungkook pauses for a moment, tapping his fingers against the pane of the window for what seems like ages, but he finally speaks, shattering the glass of silence. “Listen, maybe I pressured you into this. You never forced me to be more with you, but I’m practically pushing you out of your comfort zone here. If I’m overstepping boundaries, just say something, and I’ll be more than happy to grab a cab home.”

Well… that’s… surprising.

Jungkook doesn’t normally converse with that tone—you’re actually not sure if he’s ever spoken to anyone in that manner. He’s not often respectful; words that spew out of his pretty boy lips are often sharp jabs, sexual compliments, or plainly attempts at pick-up lines that only work on girls that swoon over his looks. But… he’s been oddly divergent lately, and whether or not it’s a good thing, you’re not entirely sure.

“I’m, uh, okay, Jungkook. If I wasn’t good with this, I wouldn’t have picked you up this morning.”

He clears his throat, as if he knows what he previously said was out of character. “Uh, right, yeah. Of course. You’re not the type to let people walk over you.”

You roll your lips, hiding that soft smile that begs to be released. He’s… sort of… sweet? This is abnormal. Has he been hiding this side of himself the whole time? “I’m a little worried for you, though. You’ve never met my parents before, nor my sister, and they could be a bit… uh… a lot.”

“A bit a lot?” He mocks, a quiet chuckle escaping from his chest after.

“Yeah. Something like that. You see me, and when you meet them, it might be a little shocking that we’re related.”

“It can’t be that bad, can it?”

Oh, boy. Jungkook wasn’t even sure what he was expecting, but truthfully, it might’ve not been… this?

Standing in the front lawn of a single home, he’s learning that this place is your childhood home. The exterior of the house is painted in both pastel pink and baby powder blue, plethora of colorful flowers decorating the perimeter, and even the cars in the driveway were a shade of neon yellow and orange. Was this a Dr. Seuss book? It’s got that white picket fence that you’re always talking about, surrounding the lawn of a house that looks like the ones you’d see in old Disney Channel movies located in the suburbs, and honestly—he’s taken aback because this does not look like where you grew up.

“Is that—oh my gosh, it’s my big sister!”

When you said that it might be surprising that the two of you are siblings, you really meant it. There was no sugar coating it because she’s completely the opposite; hot pink hair, tight black and white checkered leggings, and a purple shirt to match, it’s quite clear that your sister is… flamboyant, as you remained rather… neutral.

“Hey, Suji…” in comparison, you’re less enthusiastic than she is, especially when Suji wraps her arms tightly around your frame. Physical touch hasn’t always been your strongest suit (unless it’s during sex, but that’s another story for another time). “It’s been a while.”

“Oh my god, it has! Mom would be so excited to know you actually came! You know, she thought that you weren’t going to come, especially since you’re not engaged or married or even have a—oh, who… is this?”

Jungkook waves awkwardly, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. “Uh, hey. Jeon Jungkook, your sister’s boyfriend.”

She gasps like she’s run out of air, her smile tugging wider on her face as she releases her hold on you and onto Jungkook instead. “Incredible! I never knew you had a boyfriend! Mom thought that you would still be stuck on that “independent woman” mindset and never settle down! Look at that! You proved her wrong!”

With a pained expression, your shoulders slouch. “I mean, it’s not… I—”

“Don’t worry, she can still settle while being an independent woman,” Jungkook adds, for a brief second, his eyes lock onto yours and there’s this slight glimmer in them. “But uh, it’s nice to meet you… Su—”

“Suji! I’m Suji. The baby of the family. Oh! You’ll get to meet the rest of the gang, and my fiance! You guys are so going to get along.” And with that, she bolts to the house faster than any Olympic runner, and Jungkook lets out a breath that he doesn’t realize he’s been holding the entire time.

“Wow, that…”

“Was a lot? Yeah, I know,” puffing up your cheeks, you’re reaching to retie your hair once again. “Do you think you’ll be okay? I mean… you’re always welcomed to back out. I’m not asking you specifically to be more with me, I’m just… looking for someone to be more with.”

“You keep saying that but you haven’t even given me a shot yet.” Irritated, he reaches for your bag on the floor and slings it onto his back. “Now, let’s go and not leave your parents waiting any longer. I’m sure they’ll be just as thrilled as your sister.”

Lips pursed, legs closed tightly together, and hands resting on your knees, you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet while seated, awkwardly watching your parents observe Jungkook.

This sight is amusing, you have to admit, because Jeon Jungkook doesn’t look like the type to meet anyone’s parents. He’s the epitome of who you don’t bring home, the typical “fuck boy” that won’t treat your daughter well, the guy that your parents don’t trust, and here he is, sitting across your parents with the goal of trying to somewhat impress them.

It’s hard to withhold the snort that comes out your nose.

“Something wrong, dear?” Your mother asks, batting her lashes. “I hope you forgive me for being a bit appalled that you brought someone home.”

“Just a boyfriend, mom. Not like we’re getting engaged soon,” you can sense your sister’s eyes flickering up at the mere sound of the word, obsessed with her upcoming wedding. “We’re just dating.”

“It’s not an act, is it? Because I heard about those kids who bring home their friends for the weekend in hopes to persuade their parents that they’re seeing each other, but they’re not, in fact they’re close friends and—”

“Mom, we’re dating. Is that hard to believe?”

“Yes, can you blame me though? You’re all about that ‘independent woman’ shenanigans, what am I supposed to expect?” She clicks her tongue before getting up, moving the plate of cookies over to Jungkook. “Nonetheless, you’re a sweet boy, Jungkook. I won’t force you to stay in a room with her, I can always set up the guest bedroom—“

“Uh, that’s not necessary,” he retorts stiffly, slightly fearing what she’d say next. He’s learning that your parents don’t have the typical dynamic that he’d expect; a quiet father without many opinions (although this might be a more common trait than he thought) and a mother who didn’t believe that her boyfriend was actually her boyfriend. Well, sort of. But the two of you weren’t in a fake relationship. “We've, uh, shared a bedroom several times at my apartment, if that’s convincing enough. We’re not pretending, if that’s what you’re getting it.”

Your mother grits her teeth. “Fine, if it makes the two of you feel better. But I’m not happy if I find out that you’re lying.” Brushing off her crumby hands on her pants, she pushes the dining table chair in. Meanwhile, you discreetly grab a piece of the cookie but your mom shoots a glare. “Means that I don’t have to tell Hyunae to sleep on the couch.”

Nearly choking on the cookie in your mouth, the remnants slip out your mouth. “What? Hor-I mean, cousin Hyunae is staying?”

“Ah, did I forget to tell you? Her parents are housing some of the family members, so I thought I’d be so kind and take her in here. You and Jungkook should be fine, yes?”

Uh, you’re not fine. At least, that’s what Jungkook speculates when you’re tossing your suitcase onto the bed, flipping the clasps open and shuffling through your things aggressively.

“Uh, what’s wrong?”

“Horny Hyunae is here.”

Jungkook coughs at the sudden explicit nickname, plopping himself in the armchair placed in the corner. You’re not usually this rash, but it seems like another side of you is coming out when your family is around. “H-Horny Hyunae?”

You puff your cheeks. “Yeah. That bitch is such a hoe, she steals any man in her sight that might be even remotely attractive. She stole the last three dates I brought to family weddings.”

“She stole a man from you? But babe, you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met. I mean, look at your body, that sultry glare you’re always giving me, and not to mention that you’re a fucking doctor. Fuck. I’m horny too. Take off your pants—“

You scowl. “Jungkook—“ A knock on the door interrupts your jab at Jungkook.

“Did you lock the door?”

“No, I thought you did?”

It swings open and your biggest enemy stands in the threshold, in that skimpy dress she calls a nightgown (it’s too skintight to be one) with her hair looped up in a bun. Candidly speaking, Jungkook thinks Horny Hyunae is hot.

But being wholeheartedly honest, he’d rather watch you in those scrubs at the hospital, clipboard in hand with a stray piece of hair blocking your face. Now that is what Jungkook calls supertastic, amazingly hot.

“Cuzzo! You should’ve greeted me earlier!” Hyunae says, but her response is like through a clenched jaw, almost irritated immediately in her presence. “Would’ve been better if the child of the house greeted her guests.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

She sucks in her cheeks, but the instant her eyes land on Jungkook, a lightbulb appears above her head. “Oh, uh, and who is this?”

Jungkook promptly gets up from his seat, and his swiftness has your blood boiling. He’s been acting so different since the two of you got here, being especially nice, and you’re not even sure you like this side of him. It feels like a detachment of Jungkook, like you’re asking him to be something he’s not.

Extending his hand with a signature bright grin, he gives her a firm shake. “Jeon Jungkook. Your “cuzzo’s” boyfriend.”

Horny Hyunae scoffs, brows raised with a look of disbelief. “Boyfriend. What about that ‘independent woman’ journey you were always talking about? Made your mom all pissy and upset because you told her you weren’t looking to settle down any time soon. Is Jungkook here just to pretend that you have a relationship so she’d get off your back?”

“Why does everyone think that?” The same question popped into Jungkook’s head. “Do you think I’m incapable of finding someone who likes me?”

“Oh please. If you really cared about your relationship with this hottie, you wouldn’t be trying to start a cat fight with me here, right in front of him. Are you not worried about what he thinks about you?”

She doesn’t deserve to know the nature of yours and Jungkook’s relationship—the constant pining that’s been happening recently, the fact that he’s the one that willingly chose to come here with you, and that the moment you mentioned you wanted something more with anyone that doesn’t have to be him, Jungkook wanted to take things to the next level.

Hyunae thinks you don’t have worth. (But enough to try competing with you, it seems).

“I’m… okay with this. Kinda like how fierce she’s getting, if anything, it’s kinda hot.” Your nose scrunches up at the wording of his response, but Jungkook is Jungkook, so his intentions are good but his execution is terrible. “Plus, we’re all human. She’s allowed to change her mind. If she decides that she wants to settle now, something different from the route she wanted before, it should be fine.”

That is not what Jungkook said to you the past few conversations you had about breaking off your relationship. He’d been adamant about advocating for the life without marriage and kids, without the whole single home with that stupid white picket fence you keep talking about. Why is it suddenly that he’s making it sound like he’s been supportive of your goals the entire time?

“Mmm, I guess,” she states calmly, but only because it’s toward Jungkook. “Well, then I’ll leave the two of you friends to get ready for dinner.” With that, she leaves with a slam of the door and you’re nearly pulling out your hair at the thought of seeing her again.

“She’s fucking insane.”

“Why does everyone think that we’re in a fake relationship?” He asks, tilting his head. “Like, you’re fucking smokin’ hot. Hell, I’ll even make a baby with you if you want.”

The two of you freeze.

“I mean—”

“I’m gonna forget you said that.”

Was… fucking Horny Hyunae making a move on your boyfriend right now? Or sorta boyfriend. Whatever the fuck Jungkook was to you.

Clicking your tongue tempestuously, you shoved your hands into the pockets of your leather jacket. This bitch has gotten bolder, you think, because despite the many guys she’s attempted to snag from your other cousins and family members, the fact that she’s stepping on your toes again means she’s testing you on purpose. The glint in her eyes when she glances over at you, that slight smirk that pulls on her lips and that obnoxious hair flip off the shoulder while batting her lashes are only proof of it.

She likes the competition. And you’re the only one in the family that’s a worthy enough candidate.

Nonetheless, this is a personal test. Would Jungkook break whatever this is that you have going on just to get a quick smash from Hyunae, or did he genuinely mean it when he said he wanted to go for this?

But at the same time, you don’t want to think so lowly of him. He’s been acting… disparate, in comparison to his usual blunt and disgusting comments, even though they do slip from time to time, often targeting your figure and how good you are in bed, he’s opted for kinder and gentler words, and even… comforting you when you need someone? Who was he and what did he do to the Jungkook you met in the city?

“So, Jungkook, what do you do in your free time?” She asks, twirling a piece of her hair, doe eyes while standing in the middle of the living room with your somewhat-boyfriend.

“Uh, my friend is an artist, so sometimes I attend his events. I like his work so, I sometimes incorporate it into mine—” Hyunae doesn’t even let Jungkook finish before she’s grabbing his arm, pushing his sleeves up to admire the tattoos that decorate his arm.

“And what about these?”

Jungkook quirks a brow. “What about them?”

“Tell me about them. What are these tattoos, Gukkie?” Gross, did you almost vomit in your mouth?

“Uh,” he slid her hand off his arm, rubbing his nape awkwardly. “Jungkook is fine, I’m not really cool with that nickname. They’re just tattoos I like, nothing more, nothing less,” he replies, lying through his gritted teeth. “Thought a sleeve would look cool on me.”

“But my cuzzo calls you Gukkie,” she pouts, shoulders dropping. She made that off the top of her head—you’ve never called him Guk or Gukkie since you’ve gotten here.

“She actually calls me Guk, but only when she’s feeling nice.”

Hyunae rolls her eyes, dramatically throwing herself off. “See what I mean? She’s such a bitch. She leaves home for college, decides to be a doctor so she’s gone for years, argues with her mother about not getting married and how she’s supposed to just take care of herself and brings you here! Just to get us all off her back. I’m sorry, Gukkie, that she’s put you through all that, but we see right through those lies and me and you could be a thing.”

“Ho-” He almost says ‘horny’ because you say it so frequently, “Hyunae, I appreciate what you’re getting at here, but I think I’m set. I came here for her, in case you forgot, and the whole point of this trip was for her to give me a shot, to show her that she doesn’t need to settle with the other dudes when she’s got me.”

That was… kind of nice to hear.

Actually, it’s more than nice.

In fact, it’s so goddamn night that you reward him. You even let him be vocal this time; with your parents bedroom across the house and sharing a wall with Hyunae, what’s better than fucking hard enough that your bed creaks, the frame slamming against the wall, and the delicious whimpers escaping from Jungkook that are all for you.

“How was the blowjob earlier, baby?” You’re teasing, grabbing his chin in between your fingers so he’d lock his eyes with yours. Your wet, bare pussy is rubbing against his dick that sits predominantly against his stomach, tip red and angry, begging to be in you again. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I did, that was, until you decided it’d be better to let go before I could finish,” he shoots you a look, and you don’t hesitate to replicate it. “Hurry up, I’m fucking horny. I’ve been wanting it since I got myself all worked up earlier, talking about how hot you are, and how you’re a doctor—” his dick twitches at the thought again, “—fuck, you’d look so good with your scrubs pulled down below you ass, bent over in that new office of yours and—oh, fuck, baby, we gotta do it sometime.”

You’re not gonna lie. The thought has been planted in your head before.

Pressing your forehead against his, lips brushing over his own, your hand reaches down below to align yourself at his tip, slowly sinking down and grinding your hips against his.

“Oh, fuck, finally,” he says in relief, like he’s the luckiest guy in the world to be stuff deep inside of you. He likes being in control, without a doubt, and when he was with other girls, he always found himself having to be the dominant one. He had to top, have these girls faces dug into the sheets, ass up with his hands groping them, but something about you has him entranced by the way you look with the streetlights from outside peer into the window, shining on your sweaty, shiny naked smooth skin, and face full of pleasure all because of him.

“Can I go harder?” Do you even have to ask? He nods wearily; the feelings that seem to linger all around him is suffocating, like he’s full of something more blissful than sex. And when you get on your knees, hands flat against his chest before fervently moving your hips, it’s like the breath is being sucked from his lungs. Jungkook lets out the softest groan, but it’s not good enough for you, it seems, because you dip your head close to the side of his, whispering a gentle command. “Louder, baby.”

The bed squeaks and thuds against the wall behind it with each movement; Jungkook’s hand has a grip on your hips, desperately wanting to go faster but he loves seeing you here, on top of him, and in basic words—putting him in his place.

It’s almost like you read his mind, or that he’s gotten lucky that you’re a exhausted after a long day despite being excited enough to start off sex, but there’s that signal you give him, a kiss on the nose, and he’s already flipping you over on the bed.

“Let’s show Horny Hyunae that we’re definitely not in a fake relationship.”

← previous chapter || next chapter →​​

[tojikai]

*Tojikai has an update

Me:  I          AM          SPEED

I read it all in a span of 15 to 30 minutes and I'm regretting it now bc I want more. This chapter is like the calmness before the storm and because of that, us reader defenseless ass (and (Y/N)) is about to be caught off in it once again. Truly, another "sike" moment from Kai.

First of all, if PM!Gojo is a frog, I would like to put him on the operation and dissect him on it just to see what's going on with this man. I know PM!Satoru is very egotistical and selffish but this chapter really shows it.

"He wanted you to open your eyes just to see you look so lovingly at him for the very last time before he runs away with someone else." This part makes me want to reach through the screen and slap this hoe silly bc while I understand that is just his wishful thinking, it shows that a part of him still wants to have his cake and eat it too. He still can't make up his mind about his feeling for her but he still wants her love despite being the one betraying her and still wanting to return to his side hoe. Pray to god that those thoughts are just thoughts bc I might gone apeshit if it happens otherwise.

“After all, you’ve always wanted her, right?”  THIS GODDAMN LINE, FOR SOME REASONS, GIVES ME SO MUCH WHIPLASH I ALMOST DISMISSED IT AS A THROWAWAY LINE FROM SATORU UNTIL I WAS LIKE "HOLD ON". Is this a confirmation from our beloved Kai? That Suguru still has a part in the competition? I know some readers want Y/N to heal first and maybe, just be happy by herself at the end of this fic. But I can't help it. Suguru has shown how much of a chad he is in this chapter for truly caring for Y/N as a friend first and putting his personal feelings aside for the sake of it. He's not like you, Satoru so maybe, keep your advice to yourself?

Y/N... Girl... Oh man, seeing her just struggling around with her wrecked mental health is just so heartbreaking. She's still yearning for Satoru and I'm pretty sure if the asshole suddenly pulled up, she would go back to him right away. She's still too weak against him. Y/N is definitely the type to get herself easily into a toxic and abusive relationship, and this is just Satoru we're talking about here. But I was glad to see that she has learned (or at least tried to) to accept that Satoru is no longer hers and tried to get used to it, and maybe move on... until the very last part which gave me so much dread bc it could regress all the deveplopment she has gone through. Satoru is going to fuck it all up and I just know it in my heart bc the bar for Hoejo is in hell. It always a party whenever you're around, Hoejo.

I never expected to be free from the hoe Rie and this entire chap gave me that false sense of security before you popped it off with the Satan herself showing up right at her stolen man's best friend's house???? Like what tf is she doing here? Okay, but I think there are two possible reasons for it.

1. Rie, being a clingy bitch herself, wants tag along and be with her boyfriend 24/7 for some reasons and maybe uses this chance to befriend and win over Suguru, his best friend, and to make up for the bad impression she has made.

2. Hoejo is just that brazen and insensitive and as far as I remembered, he, Suguru and Y/N used to have their own bonding moment which is playing billiards? And Hoejo wants to visit him to have their bonding too but with Rie this time.

....Or maybe, and I really hate for this to be true, since you have incorporated the underboob tattoo from an anon, you have also decided to give either HoeRie or Hoejo the idea of getting matching tattoos or some shit. I lean towards Rie more (I'm not biased here bc this couple can always do so much worse together) bc she's probably so insecure that she wants a physical mark, a reminder that Satoru will always be hers, and she wants to push their relationship to the stage. Also, getting matching couple tattoos feel too much of an intimacy and a level of commitment for the current Satoru to be able to handle. I mean, look at his discarded 5 years relationship with Y/N. Do you think this hoe feel comfortable enough with that towards his nearly 2-month infatuation? But he will probably go along with it anyway bc of Rie's insistence and reassure her.

I hate Rie and I know I sound like I'm being biased against her bc of that, but from what I've seen of her so far, the above feels like it can become a reality. Maybe I'm just being paranoid and thinking it up like conspiracy theories, but we will never know when it comes to you here, Kai :).

Finally, Hoejo's reaction in the last part. His seemmingly outrageous reaction... Very curious, indeed. He's shocked and mad probably bc he has misunderstood the situation (again), and it's either bc: 

1. He warned Suguru not to take advantage of Y/N in her vulnerable moments and this scene is his worries and fears becoming true.

2. Combined with the first reason, he's also jealous of Suguru. I have noticed that Satoru always emotional when it comes to Y/N and Rie, but it's even clearer in the former's case. And his ego and pride took a massive hit from seeing this.

All in all, shove its up your ass, asshole. You have no rights to be mad. You literally came to Suguru's front door with your side hoe next to you when he hasn't shown any sign of being comfortable with her yet. Do you even know shame? And although it's just a misunderstanding, you are going to take it and suck it up if you just so happen to walk into Suguru and Y/N getting it on for real.

Okay, but... OMG! NOT CLICKBAIT! SUGURU VS SATORU BRAWL IS REAL!??! Are we getting it in the next chapter??? I know it's too god to be true but with how the last part is, it's a perfect set up for that sfadghkjjljljljljljkjeas. THIS CHANCE IS HARD TO COME BY SFSDSOJPKPKPKK

There are too many possibilities for what about to happen so I will refrain from saying it in this ask bc it will be very long and it's all speculation anyway. But I know for sure how Satoru will deal with this will be incredibly important. His irrational anger was what caused Y/N to be sent to the hospital after all. And it might affect his relationship with both Suguru and Rie if he does jump into conclusion this time. I really want Y/N to stand her ground and calmly explain the situation to him but the sight of him with Rie combined with his impulsiveness probably won't allow that to happen :((. He better not getting mad at Y/N 😠. She and Suguru are innocent. Kai, when will my girl get to have her own peace? This just can't keep happening to her. She won't be able to move on if the thorns named Gojo Satoru is not getting rid of. LET HER FIGHT BACK.

Anyways, thank you for another exciting chapter and preparing us for the next ;). Also, please don't let yourself feel pressured about updating. Everyone on here has been nice so far but I know some people are more impatient than another, but they should use this chance to learn how to wait. Write at your own pace and you won't feel burn out that way. Have a good day and good week, Kai 😘😊

ooooh im loooooving thisss :> your analyses are always on point !! 👀 about yn's healing process, she has progressed a lot, albeit not even in the half, considering what happened to her, she's a lot better now. she's more carefree and her acceptance of what happened between her and satoru helped a lot with leaving her vices behind and instead focusing on whatever she has beside her, like shoko and sugu !! and yeah, the couple tattoos for rie and satoru is not impossible 👁️ and if that happens, that would definitely break yn, bc in 5 years that satoru and her were together, he never got something like that w her :(( it might take her a few steps back. and yes, how Satoru will deal with that situation can really change a lot but how yn deals with it can affect things a LOT too !! :> this is such an interesting read, you never miss!!

thank you so much for the kind words, bb~🥺♥️ much appreciated !! please, take care of yourself as well and i hope you're having an amazing week !! <33

[storiesforallfandoms]

stuck with you ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2102

request?: yes!

“Ooh how about an enemies to lovers fic where Colson and the reader get stuck in an elevator together please”

description: it’s hard to keep up a petty beef when you’re stuck in an elevator with your supposed sworn enemy

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, claustrophobia, panic attack

masterlist (one, two)

I don’t even know how the fight between Colson and I ever started, but I knew it was extremely prevalent even though we were forced to go on tour together.

The first big gig my band and I had ever gotten was to go on a massive tour with a bunch of other popular and legendary alt rock acts. It was sort of like Warped Tour, but under a different name. We were touring with the likes of All Time Low, Sleeping With Sirens, Pierce the Veil, etc. We were relatively unknown, so to be given this opportunity was such a big deal for all of us.

My feud with Colson had started before that. Again, I have no idea how it started. I don’t know Colson even knew. All we knew was that we hated one another, or rather we thought that we did. So when the full line up for the tour was announced, and none other than Machine Gun Kelly was on the list, I instantly regretted my decision.

“You won’t even be in contact with him,” my drummer told me after we found out the lineup. “It’s a massive tour, we have our own bus, and the likeliness that you’ll run into him in the hotel or even backstage is so small.”

“You also need to get over this stupid fight,” my bassist added. “You guys barley know one another, how can you be in a feud?”

“That’s the thing, he barley knows me and he’s ragged on me in interviews. Do you realize how much that could effect the reputation of the band?”

“You won’t even run into him,” my drummer repeated. “Just remember that.”

Well, I wish he was right, because I happened to run into Colson on our first night.

The four of us were staying in one hotel room, and in true fashion of a band on their first big tour, we bought enough alcohol to make sure we wouldn’t remember anything the next morning. I offered to go grab ice from the floor above us so we could keep everything cold, and decided taking the elevator was the best idea. The minute the doors opened, I wished I had taken the stairs.

Colson raised an eyebrow at me, glancing down at the ice bucket in my hand.

“I didn’t realize the house keeping went to get ice for the rooms,” he said.

“That wasn’t even clever. You’re starting to fall off Colson,” I said. “I’ll just take the stairs.”

“The floor is literally just one up, it won’t kill us to be in an elevator together for five seconds.”

I glared at him as I realized he was right. I let out an exaggerated sigh and stepped into the elevator, making sure to put a lot of distance between the two of us. Colson hit the button for the next floor up and the elevator doors closed.

It didn’t move.

I looked over at Colson in confusion, wondering if he was also feeling what I was. The look on his face mirrored mine, which was enough to answer my question.

He hit the floor button again, although it was already lit up. Nothing happened. He hit it again, and again, then furiously started jabbing it repeatedly.

“Stop, that’s obviously not doing anything,” I said to him.

“What else am I supposed to do?” he asked.

“I don’t know, see if the doors will open?”

He pressed the button to make the doors open, but again there was nothing. He started jabbing that one too, which resulted in me snapping at him to stop again. He opened his mouth to retort, but before he could the elevator jolted suddenly and a loud alarm rang out.

“Oh fuck,” Colson breathed. “Must be stuck.”

“Wait like...like we’re stuck in here?” I asked.

“That’s what stuck means, yes.”

I felt panic starting to rise in me. I dropped the ice bucket and started clawing at the doors, hoping to somehow pull them open. Colson put a hand on my shoulder and pulled me away.

“Hey, that’s not gonna work!” he said. “For one, you’re literally the size of a toothpick, and two, if the elevator is stuck we can’t open the doors. We’ll just have to press the help button and wait for something to happen.”

My breathing became heavier and I started to hyperventilate. I pressed my back against the back of the elevator and slid down till I was sat on the floor. I brought my knees up to my chest and hugged them tightly. I closed my eyes and tried to come down from my panic attack before it even started, but I knew it was no use. The feeling of the confined space in the elevator was baring down on me, I needed to get out of there somehow.

Colson knelt next to me and put a hand on my arm. I looked up at him but I was having a hard time focusing because of how violently I was shaking. Through my somewhat blurry vision though I could see a concerned look on his face.

“Hey,” he said, this time softer than before, “look at me. Are you claustrophobic?”

I felt like I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded instead. Colson’s eyes widened and he quickly turned back to the help button. He started jabbing at it the way he had the other buttons earlier. I was panicking too much to really care at this point. I felt like I was going to throw up, which made it lucky that the ice bucket was right next to me I guess.

“I don’t know if anyone can hear us,” Colson called, “but we’re fucking stuck in an elevator and one of us is having a panic attack! Someone get us the fuck out of here!”

I buried my head in my knees, trying to calm myself down. I tried to imagine that I wasn’t stuck in an elevator, that I was back in my hotel room with my bandmates. Unfortunately I was too far into my panic attack to calm myself down that way. My only hope was getting out of the elevator.

Colson came to sit next to me. I could feel his body close and, even though we were constantly fighting, there was just something comforting about knowing he was there with me. We sat in silence for a little bit, besides the sounds of my hyperventilating. I felt Colson’s arm move next to me, then a gentle tap on my arm. When I raised my head he was holding his phone out to me, showing me a picture of a young girl.

“That’s my daughter,” he told me. “Her name is Casie. She’s my entire world.”

“She’s beautiful,” I said, my voice very shaky.

“I don’t know what I’d do without her,” he said. “Whenever I’m having a bad mental health day, or I’m having an anxiety attack, I just think about the next time I’ll be able to see her and it helps me to calm down.”

“I didn’t even know you had a daughter,” I admitted.

“We don’t know a lot about each other.”

I nodded. “I know, I say that all the time.”

He smirked at me. “You talk about me, huh?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course I do. We hate each other, so naturally I have to talk shit about you all the time.”

His face softened then, which shocked me a little. I had never seen him look so...well...just nice. When I wasn’t looking at him through a haze of anger from our stupid feud, he really did look...handsome.

“I don’t hate you,” he said.

“What? Of course you do. You always say shit about me, you even mentioned me in one of your songs recently in a negative way.”

“Yeah, cause I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

And in that moment I realized that I really didn’t. My dislike towards Colson was purely under the idea that he hated me too. I thought that was the way I was supposed to feel towards him, not the way I actually felt.

“Wait,” I said, uncurling myself from the ball I was in. “Are you telling me we’ve been fighting and having this stupid feud...and we don’t even hate each other?”

Colson awkwardly chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I guess that’s exactly what happened.”

I tried to laugh too, but the elevator suddenly jolted again, which immediately brought back my panicked state. Colson wrapped his arms around me and held me against his chest, running his fingers through my hair and trying to calm me back down. Surprisingly, it worked at least a little bit.

“I’ve had a crush on you for a while, actually,” Colson admitted. When I looked up at him, even he seemed shocked by this. “I always thought you were beautiful and I wanted to get to meet you in person. But when all this fighting started, I tried to push those feelings aside and pretend like they never existed, but they’ve always been there. I think that’s why I’ve said some extra harsh things towards you, just to try and make myself believe that I really didn’t like you.”

The silence in the elevator was deafening. I pulled away from Colson to look up at him. He averted his gaze to his lap, refusing to look at me at all. I could see red creeping up his neck, embarrassment rising within him no doubt.

I had a brief moment of courage build within me, and I decided to act on it. I cupped Colson’s face in my hands and forced him to look up at me. Before I could lose my courage, I pressed my lips against his.

He hesitated at first, like he couldn’t believe this was happening, but it didn’t take him long to melt into the kiss. His hands found their way to my hips, holding them gently as our kiss became deeper and more passionate. With little effort, he lifted me from the floor onto his lap so that I was straddling him. I ran my hands through his messy blonde hair, curling my fingers into the stands at the back of his head and pulling slightly. The noise I earned from this was definitely a moan, although Colson was adamant that it wasn’t.

Before we could go much further, the elevator suddenly rattled back to life and started moving. When the doors opened again, I nearly sobbed with relief. The two of us quickly untangled from one another and stumbled out into the hallway. The air felt so fresh and my chest, which I hadn’t even realized was so tight, felt like it was opening again.

“Thank fuck,” I breathed. “I’m taking the fucking stairs.”

Colson chuckled. “Can I walk you down to your floor?”

“Aren’t you upstairs?”

“Yeah, like two floors above you I think. But I’d like to spend more time with you before we part ways.”

I smiled and agreed. We walked down the stairs together in silence, but it was a much more comfortable silence. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face, and neither could Colson.

He walked me all the way to my hotel room door. We faced each other for another moment, just smiling at one another. It felt weird to not be fighting with him in that moment, but a good weird.

“I should get up to my room I guess,” he finally said. “I have to be up pretty early tomorrow for soundcheck.”

“Me too.”

“Maybe...we could meet up there and continue what we started in the elevator.”

Somehow my smile got even bigger. “Okay, I’d like that.”

He nodded, his face bright with excitement. He said goodnight and headed back towards the stairs. I leaned against my hotel room door, feeling like a lovesick teenager all over again.

That’s when I realized I wasn’t carrying the ice bucket. I had definitely left it in the elevator, but there was no way in hell I was going back for it. I was prepared to explain the entire story to my bandmates, who I was sure had heard the last of mine and Colson’s conversation through the door. I was expecting so many questions about why I was gone so long, why they had heard Colson outside with me, and why I was smiling like such an idiot.

But instead, they looked at me for a moment and my drummer asked, “Where’s the ice?”