#that seems like a pretend thing to believe

[lorddeathofmurdermountain]

Unless it's a sudden shift in behavior that's, unfortunately, very common. Though even with said sudden change they'll often attribute it to something that means the least work for them, ie assuming teenager hormone imbalance has resulted in a sudden personality shift with your kid which definitely makes sense. In fact it makes so much sense you won't even allow discussion on the topic. Thank God it's only typical teenage angst and not a serious problem I'd have to help my child with. I will now proceed to blame my only son for all his woes as if it's his own personal fault that he has no friends, is socially awkward and doesn't seem to understand very basic things.

Ahem. Ignore that. Another unfortunate interpretation of my initial sentence is that if you're left in that depressed state for long enough, people will simply associate it with your default state, meaning when you tell them something's wrong they won't believe you because they can't tell you've gotten worse - because you haven't. You've just BEEN worse since before they even met you. Hell, eventually you'll probably convince YOURSELF that this is just how you are, you can't fight it or get better and then, oh boy, then the REAL downward spiral begins. You'll probably be lucky if you manage to live a somewhat normal life if by some miracle you amass enough spite to refuse simply lying down and giving up. Else your depression could, and I swear this is real, loop back around to make you functional. Like a feeling of despair so strong you can't even muster the will to be sad about it, leaving you a half-empty shell of your former self that's just pretending to be who you think you are, but in reality you're one good meltdown away from just waking up one day and shutting down, not because of any physical trauma or bacterial or viral illness, no, instead the apathy would become so strong you couldn't even bring yourself to care about getting up and performing basic bodily functions. You wouldn't even sleep, just blankly stare at the ceiling for days at a time as even your thoughts grow empty and your mind is filled with barely even the thought equivalent of white noise. It's working, but it ain't doing shit.

Uh. Ignore that one also.

Anyway yeah, depression is a cursed loop of always getting worse and if you're unlucky enough with the people around you, you can only really hope it goes away on its own or at least long enough for you to seek help. Hope also that you don't live somewhere where mental health as a subject is heavily frowned upon and unless you've got something "serious" (schizophrenia, Parkinson's, Alzheimer's, etc) it's treated as a personal failing of yours. Like a character flaw.

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER TWO

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya | lmk if you want to be added! wc: 7.6k notes: check masterlist for content warnings! honestly a pretty lowkey chap but it's strictly business 🧐 thank you for the love on chapter 1 🫶 i fear this chap and the next couple of parts are slow-ish but i've reread this literally a million times and im sick of it so what do i actually know. no beta we die like brian thompson

'Bueckers and Kennedy, Two Dynasties, Both Alike in Dignity'

College basketball fans are excited for what appears to be the end of the "Tess Kennedy Destruction Tour." After a quiet few days, the South Carolinian guard took to social media where she shared a photo of her and a faceless individual meeting for coffee. The Instagram story was captioned "and a new day will bring about the dawn," a lyric from Frank Ocean's "Sierra Leone." Supporters interpreted this as Kennedy's recovery journey taking a positive turn, but the song lyric was not the star of the show.

Fans were quick to point out the identity of the individual was not as hidden as it seemed. Kennedy's companion was wearing two notable necklaces - one with a silver cross and one with a studded #5. The phone case in camera was also purple with a wallet attached to the back. One commenter pointed out there was a University of Connecticut student ID poking out, and after review, we believe that much is true.

Early speculation declared Kennedy's friend was none other than Paige Bueckers, the star point guard for the University of Connecticut Huskies. Then, roughly an hour after Kennedy's post, Bueckers herself took to her Instagram where she shared a photo of her holding an icepack to someone's left knee. Both Bueckers and the mystery individual are faceless; however, fans noted Bueckers's companion was wearing a silver bracelet with familiar charms and a #25, Kennedy's jersey number.

All of the signs point to Bueckers and Kennedy spending time together, although nothing has been confirmed officially. One fan noted that Bueckers tore her own ACL the year prior, believing that Bueckers flew out to South Carolina to lend a supportive hand to Kennedy amidst her own recovery and hardships. Whether or not this is simply two friends rehabbing together or the most obvious soft launch in basketball history, sports fans are united on two things: Tess Kennedy is beginning to take her recovery seriously, and Paige Bueckers might just be the guardian angel people were calling for.

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

MAY 3, 2023

“So, lemme get this straight.”

Tess hums around a mouthful of Chipotle, feeling lighter than she has in weeks. Kamilla and Bree returned to their apartment roughly a half hour earlier and immediately put Tess on the hot seat. Once she made it through her countless apologies and explanations with minimal interruptions, she gave Kam and Bree the green light to ask their questions, and it seemed as though they had plenty.

Kam raises her fingers as she lists off the recent happenings of Tess’s life. “Because you went off a bender–” Tess frowns at the way it’s phrased, “–Amaya is forcing you into mandatory PT, therapy, and a shit ton of PR. Honestly, about fucking time.” Bree snorts, although some of the worry leaves her body. “If all it took was tough love, I woulda been meaner to your ass a month ago.”

“Don’t think it would have had the intended effect,” Tess concedes thoughtfully. She pushes around her rice and chicken, shoveling a pepper in her mouth. “I wasn’t really in a listening mood back then.”

Bree raises a brow. “And you were today?”

The injured guard shrugs a shoulder. “Well, when your manager tells you that your brand deals are about to cut their contracts, and you’re at risk for losing your basketball scholarship for behavior and academic reasons, and you’re slowly killing yourself…that kind of puts things into perspective.”

Kamilla nods solemnly. “And the Paige situation.”

Tess almost flushes under their scrutinizing gaze. She hasn’t forgotten. She has Paige’s receipt tucked into the pocket of her pants, unwilling to throw it away but also feeling weirdly vulnerable for wanting to keep it. It wasn’t a huge gesture by any means. Paige doing PT with her was objectively more intimate than buying her lunch, but the mere idea of Paige saying goodbye to her and sitting in an Uber trying to figure out what Tess likes in her Chipotle bowl is just fucking insane. “Guess I’m not single anymore…so, yay?”

“You’re taking this a lot better than I expected,” Kamilla admits hesitantly. Tess clocks the concern in her expression, like she’s thinking about her next step if she wakes up tomorrow and Tess is back to her old ways. That thought alone makes guilt squeeze at Tess’s heart.

Tess sighs. “It was like a wake up call,” she says after a moment. “Like those stupid ice baths Coach makes us do in recovery.” Kamilla and Bree crack a small smile at the joke. “To me, it was just easier to self-destruct than to let something else kill me. Basketball’s more than a sport to me – it’s my purpose, right? So after I heard I might not be able to play again, I just…let myself sink. And, Christ, people were so cruel online.” Tess huffs out something like a laugh, her throat tight with pain. “It’s funny ‘cause it never bothered me before, but… I just wanted to forget. I wanted them to hurt like I hurt. It was too easy to give into that.” The silence rings out in the living room as Tess searches for her next words. “I don’t think all hope is lost. Today helped me understand that a little better. So, I’m gonna try. I’m just fucking terrified it’s all going to be for nothing, that my knee’s never going to get better and I’m going to put myself through so much pain for a what if.”

“Okay, what if you never play again, but, God, Tess, what if you do?” Kamilla says slowly. “What if you do everything right and you get better and you can play with us again in March? I want that for you. We want that for you. Do you want that for you?”

“I mean, of course–”

“Then do it!” Kamilla exclaims, voice cracking. Tess blinks at her owlishly. She’s never seen Kamilla like this, ever, wide-eyed and desperate. It’s a near 180 shift from the girl she’s spent the last 30 minutes talking to, a complete and total shift from the girl who she’s shared an apartment with for two years. “Please, Tess. Do the PT, your therapy, get back on track; whatever it fucking takes, Tess, you need to do it. We miss you. On and off the court. I know it’s not about me, but watching you throw yourself away like that was the worst thing I’d ever witnessed, especially because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get through to you. I thought I was going to lose my best friend!”

Tess’s jaw falls open as the sudden realization of how badly she’s fucked up dawns on her for the second time that day. “Kam,” she tries, her throat tightening with emotion. The taller woman wipes her eyes, taking in a shuddering breath. Kamilla was never one to be mean, no matter how upset she was – that was a trait of hers that made her such a good leader and role model on the court. She was big on accountability and ensuring that past mistakes would never happen again. Seeing all of the emotion she kept under tight lock and key because she knew she needed to be strong for Tess (even before Tess was aware that she needed someone to be strong for her) is unbelievably sobering.

When Tess and Kamilla first met, they almost instantly knew they would be each other’s best friend. They were alike in so many ways – they were fierce competitors and proud haters of The Office; they bonded over shared struggles of not quite knowing what home was and being just a little too different from everyone else. Tess isn’t sure where she would be without Kamilla. She always prayed she’d never have to find out, but the idea that she nearly subjected Kamilla to finding out where she’d be without Tess feels both arduous and damning.

“Kam,” Tess says again, her mind reeling. “I’m so sorry – I’m so fucking sorry. If I could do it all over again, I would. I’m trying. It’s so hard but I’m trying.”

“I know,” Kamilla says, nodding rapidly. Bree is unnaturally quiet, glancing between the two of them with a conflicted expression. Sure, the three of them shared an apartment, but the bond between Tess and Kamilla exceeded friendship; they were like sisters. Bree knew that and it never bothered her. Now it seems as though she’s unsure where to stand, but she understands that this is a much-needed conversation that Tess and Kamilla need to have. “I know, Tess, I’m just – I’m glad you understand it now. Just… please, please let us help you. Don’t shut us out.”

“I won’t,” Tess vows. “I can’t promise I’m going to be at 100%, but fuck, I’m going to try.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Kamilla concedes.

The living room is quiet for a long while until Bree shifts uncomfortably. “So… PT and mental health counseling, those I understand,” she says. “I’m still a little lost on why fake dating Paige is good for your reputation. Rumors are rumors but…it’s giving new flavor of the week.”

“It’s not like that,” Tess argues, a little too defensively. Bree raises a brow and Tess immediately flushes. She’s not sure why that jab at Paige felt personal. She made a similar jab only a few hours ago. But it wasn’t her business to judge. People have their own reasons to do what they do, right? “Well, she said it wasn’t like that,” she amends, which sounds objectively worse. Tess frowns, wishing she’d just kept quiet.

“Hey, I’m just saying.” Bree raises her hand in surrender. “It’s her vice, right? Her free time is her own, but I mean, she’s Paige Bueckers. It’s easy to get caught up in her. I just don’t want you becoming another notch on her bedpost, even if you’re just fake dating her to make people forget you’re on Twitter restriction.”

Tess wrinkles her nose. “My account is unbanned now, thank you very much,” she deflects, but Kamilla’s knowing expression has her redirecting. “I understand what you guys mean, but you don’t have to worry about that. We’re strictly business.” Bree grins wryly, huffing out something akin to laughter that sounds vaguely like, ‘that’s what they all say.’

“Was the Chipotle strictly business?” Bree asks.

Tess’s face is a perfect picture of confusion, but her heart thrums a little faster at the insinuation. What could she possibly know about that? “What does Chipotle have to do with anything?” she asks casually.

Bree’s smirk widens. “You never order bowls. It’s always a burrito with you.”

“I’m trying something new!”

“Yeah, new like a six-foot blonde hooper–”

Kamilla and Bree break out into howling laughter as Tess buries her head in her hands, blushing again. “Oh, my God. You guys are the fucking worst.”

And, sure – the joke is at Tess’s expense, but she can’t help but feel like everything is aligning once more, that they’re returning to the way they once were pre-injury. She expected that it would have taken her a lot more groveling to earn back their favor. Tess was a huge jerk to them – the more she thinks about what she’d likely said to them under the haze of several shots of tequila, the more she wishes she could take it all back and do it over again. She tore her ACL, a season ending injury for many athletes, and for a smaller few, it changed the course of their careers drastically. Tess wants to find it within herself to have some grace, to understand why she behaved the way she did, but now that she sees it with a clearer mind, she can’t help but be disgusted by herself.

For Kamilla and Bree, it’s probably all water under the bridge. They’re kind people like that, perhaps too kind after the way Tess treated them. Maybe the real gotcha! moment is the idea that Tess didn’t need to earn back their favor, anyhow. Sometimes friendship just works like that – it’s confusing and a great risk, but most times that risk pays off. Sometimes friendship just is, accepting a mistake and trusting that it wouldn’t happen again.

Feeling lighter than she has in weeks, Tess retires to her room for some much needed rest after a long day. She lights a candle, settling against her headboard and adjusting the pillow cushioning her knee. Deciding to face the music sooner rather than later, she begins combing through her mountain of notifications and unread DMs. The apology from Caitlin is touching. Tess feels an odd mix of guilt and appreciation as she drafts out her overdue response: “thank you for checking in, been a rough couple weeks. the injury is not your fault but trust that SC will pick your pockets next year!!!” Caitlin’s own response is swift – a simple 'Bring it on' that Tess can’t help but smile at.

She sends similar responses to some of Caitlin’s teammates and the other college players who reached out. She even had a couple of pros expressing their condolences, which honestly shocked Tess. There was Napheesa Collier, Sabrina Ionescu, and A’ja Wilson – A’ja’s DM made Tess’s Gamecock heart beat just a little faster. She was basically South Carolina royalty. Having that kind of support in her corner fills her with an insurmountable confidence.

Her last post on Instagram was a collection of pictures following their Elite Eight win. The sight of herself from a month ago, healthy and glowing, nearly made her thumb falter as she flicked through the images. It was a simple dump – a couple of action shots, a fierce one of Tess celebrating, one of her setting up for a deep three. It was captioned “nowhere else i’d rather be.” That much was still true. She’s pushed it to the recesses of her mind, but instinctually, she can feel the deep ache and the yearn to get back on the court, even though her knee hardly lets her sleep through the night most of the time.

Her eyes fall to the comments. She knows she shouldn’t look at them. She’s practically memorized each and every single one of them. Her teammates’ comments live at the top, celebrating the win with her; under them, there are newer ones from South Carolina fans, offering prayers and support, confident in their belief that Tess will bounce back from this. She can’t help herself from reading the hate comments, either. Her eyes catch on one in particular. Their username isn’t particularly memorable, but it reads, ‘Upsetting to see how Tess has responded to a normal injury for athletes. It’s shameful that South Carolina has let this go on for so long. Grow up!’ 

Well, he’s not wrong. Tess’s response was a pretty terrible one and Amaya herself admitted that they made a mistake in handling the situation. Frankly, he should be proud that Tess has grown up! If she read that comment a week ago, she probably would have crashed out. The thought alone makes Tess crack the slightest of smiles. Before she can keep reading, a text message from an unknown number pops up at the top of her screen, inadvertently saving her from a doom scroll.

Yo How’d I do on lunch? It’s Paige btw

Tess fights the warmth she feels in her chest. Honestly, she would have guessed that it was Paige from the ego she can identify through the screen alone, but she saves her contact regardless.

i’m afraid to admit i prefer burritos but the bowl was a 9/10

Paige’s response is swift.

9 cause I’m the 1 you need?

Tess rolls her eyes.

9 bc there was too much pico and bc the girl who ordered it flirts like a 12 year old

That’s insane You KNOW I have better game than that

you have no rizz, just blue eyes and a bunch of nil money like joe burrow if he was a hey mamas lesbian

Gonna ignore that hey mamas comment just cause I fuck with Joe Burrow The Bengals don’t have nothing on my Vikings though

i think i just got the ick im not gonna lie

Are you a football hater???

i don’t watch men’s sports at all i try to protect my peace

Pause So no Lebron???

ok well obviously i’ve watched the NBA

You scared me Don’t say that shit again

why are you so high maintenance

Why are you so mean

someone has to keep you in check settling down, remember?

I think you could be a little nicer!

hmmm i’ll consider ok i decided no

Just plain evil

i need to get my kicks in early if im stuck with you again on friday

You invited me???

i don’t think that’s how that happened

Pretty sure that’s exactly how that happened Paige please come to PT with me 🥺 Please Paige

ok now you’re just being delusional i see how you’re forgetting the whole ‘tess let me buy your coffee 🥺please tess’

Chilllll Did your doctor check you for a concussion after the ACL?? There’s something wrong with your brain

be honest, are you a natural blonde or did you work really hard to be this stupid

Hard work always baby Also, wanted to ask if you wanna come to the airport with me on Saturday, be seen together I fly out at 11:30am so I think it would be good for us The story I mean

you gonna pay for my uber back?

Duh

paige i was kidding

I wasn’t No rizz, just blue eyes and a lot of NIL money, right?

you’re insufferable

So you’ll come?

don’t sound so excited but i will for the story

Of course See you Friday ma 🫶

Tess likes Paige’s message before shutting her phone off with a sigh. She needs a nap.

MAY 5, 2023

Friday arrives after a day and a half of binging 2 Broke Girls, independent physical therapy exercises, and lots of ice packs.

Tess slept like shit Thursday night, though she’s unsure if it’s because of the pain in her knee or because of how badly she wanted to haul her ass to the bar and order a couple of shots to numb the throb. She knew she couldn’t do it, no matter how much she thought she needed it – it was bad enough that she spent half of the night sweating through her shirt and chewing on ice cubes to distract herself from the slow downward spiral of her thoughts. Not addicted, she’d remind herself, nursing a cup with rapidly melting ice as she watched Max and Caroline put themselves in weird ass situations. Psychologically, no. Physically…who knows. Tess certainly doesn’t know what that means, but she’s not addicted, period.

Her first therapy appointment was scheduled for Monday afternoon. She just had to hold out until then. Tess hopes that she would glean something useful from her counselor, but she’s been self aware and independent enough for years that she’s usually good at identifying her problems, though slightly less efficient at figuring out what to do about them. Her typical coping methods included a casual mantra of, ‘Pitbull’s been there, done that,’ and running a couple of drills in the quiet of the gym. And, sure – it sounds weird, but the idea that she’s not the only person facing an issue is comforting enough that she wonders if it’s even that deep. It works most of the time and she’s able to shrug it off. She will admit there’s an eventual crash out one way or the other, but she prefers one big explosion over a series of small, ill-timed ones.

With nothing but time on Thursday night, her Google search history consisted of queries such as how long does it take to establish alcohol dependence and symptoms of alcohol withdrawals. Then, around 3am, she got distracted and switched over to TikTok where she scrolled through edits of herself, but that’s less important. She learned that establishing alcohol dependence usually varies from person to person (Tess hates when something ‘depends;’ why can’t there ever be a straight answer?). It’s less clear if she’s officially ‘addicted,’ but she will concede that after a month of heavy drinking, there’s a little something there. Which isn’t ideal, of course, but hopefully it’s mild at the least. It was only a month and people intervened early…ish – maybe if she sticks to recovery then she should be good and clear within a couple weeks at the most.

Google also informed her of the several symptoms of withdrawals, which usually set in anywhere from six to twenty-four hours after going cold-turkey on the drinks. The withdrawals explained, obviously, the need to ransack the liquor store, but also the restlessness, the slight headache she was nursing for the past twenty-four hours, and the perpetual stomach ache she couldn’t seem to get rid of.

She had some answers. So, things were looking up!

…At least they were until she got the call from Amaya at 9:30 as she was struggling to eat a bagel. Google also mentioned a loss of appetite, which Tess was less than happy about. Much like everything else about her recovery, she would have to force herself into doing a lot of things that her body didn’t want her to do. She’d get used to it. She lets her phone ring for a short moment before she sighs, accepting the call and putting it on speaker, greeting Amaya.

“Good morning, Tess!” Amaya chirps, unusually chipper. The basketball player immediately frowns, brows furrowing.

“You get laid?” she asks, unsure of what else Amaya could be happy about in her life.

She can almost hear Amaya’s eye roll from across the line. “No, not that it’s any of your business, though.”

“Boo.”

“Anyways, back to business.” Amaya clears her throat. Tess can hear the slight shuffle of papers. “So, I really liked what you and Paige did, soft-launch wise. The press is eating it up and so far, both of your brand deals are seeing a slight surge in activity. I’m guessing people are flocking to your accounts for raunchy details and seeing you advertise, um, really cool make up products and homework help.” Tess huffs out a laugh at that. “Good job. Also, Craig let me know you showed up to PT as scheduled on Wednesday and did really well. He said you and Paige worked really well together–”

“Stop,” Tess says, listening to the sound of Amaya’s smug laugh. “Don’t insinuate anything.”

“I’m not insinuating anything!” Amaya says defensively and Tess cracks a smile. “So, we just need you and Paige to keep up what you’re doing. Do the small things for a couple of weeks, then hard-launch. We’re going to give you guys most of the control over that. We want it to seem more authentic and less like two PR agencies trying to salvage their clients’ images.”

“Of course,” Tess says innocently. “She’s coming to PT today. Then I’m going with her to the airport tomorrow.”

Amaya sighs dreamily. “You’re such a wonder to work with when you’re being cooperative.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Tess grumbles, giving up on the bagel and tossing it in the trash.

“Alright, one more thing,” Amaya continues, “then I’ll let you go.” Tess hums. “I need you to draft an apology to post on your socials – and I know, it sounds corny, but–”

“You don’t need to explain why,” Tess interrupts softly. “I got it. I fucked up and I made a huge mess. I’ll email that to you Saturday night.”

Amaya is quiet for a moment, contemplative. “Thank you, Tess. And, hey, how are you feeling?”

Tess doesn’t answer for a beat, considering keeping her thoughts to herself, but she reminds her promise to Kamilla to not shut anyone out, so she sighs. “Um, not gonna lie, I didn’t sleep at all last night,” she admits. “My knee hurt and I really wanted to drink – but I didn’t! I binge watched TV and ate ice cubes. Probably not the best thing I could have done but it was all I had to work with.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Amaya says gently. “It’s gonna be hard for a while, especially when your injury is still new and fresh and you’re all over the place mentally. I’m proud of how you handled it, even if you think you could have done better. Don’t forget you can call that counselor, okay? She’s available at all hours for you.”

“I don’t wanna be a bother–”

“It’s her job,” Amaya states, before adding in a more mother-hen tone, “but she also requested to work with you specifically because this issue is close to her and she really wants to help you. So if you need help, call her. Got it?”

Tess blinks back the impending tears. “Yeah. Got it.”

“Listen, I’m proud of you, I mean it,” Amaya reiterates. “Thank you for being patient and doing this. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” Tess says again. “Talk to you soon.”

Amaya hangs up with one final goodbye. Tess presses her head to the cool counter tile and takes a deep breath. She hardly has the time to think before a knock sounds at the apartment door. Already knowing it was Paige, Tess wipes her eyes and slips her crutches under her arms as she slinks towards the door and opens it.

“Mornin!’” Paige greets, far too cheery for barely ten in the morning. She’s holding two cups of coffee in her hands. When Tess glances down, she easily recognizes her coffee order. Then, a frown covers Paige’s face as she walks in and shuts the door behind her. “You good, ma?”

“Just a tough conversation with Amaya,” Tess says as Paige hands her the drink. She takes a long sip, feeling a little more regulated. “Too many feelings.”

Paige smirks at her. “I’m guessin’ she said the same shit my manager called for? ‘Keep up the good work and keep doing couple-y stuff?’”

Tess hums. “More or less. Oh, I also get to publicly apologize, so there’s that.”

The blonde raises a brow as Tess hands back the coffee cup so she can slip into her shoes. “You? Apologize?”

Tess swats her with her crutch, drawing laughter from Paige. “You’re such a jerk. I apologized to you on Wednesday!”

“Yeah, ‘cause you called me a whore,” Paige says with a dramatic pout. “Really hurt my women-respecting feelings.”

“Please walk me to PT and stop talking.”

And Paige does just that. She holds onto both of their coffees as they walk as Tess’s hands are otherwise preoccupied with her crutches. The silence doesn’t last too long before Paige is rambling about all of the questioning she’s getting from her teammates, and Tess can’t help but listen – correction, she has no other choice but to. Paige admits that she doesn’t like keeping secrets from her team, and Tess feels sympathetic enough that she gives Paige the go-ahead to confess their little ruse. Paige’s denial, however, is shockingly mature. “I trust them not to say sum’ maliciously, right? But you never know who’s listening.”

Tess shrugs a shoulder. “If you change your mind, go for it, okay?” she says. “This is our punishment. Don’t wanna fuck up your friendships.”

“S’all good,” Paige says. “Actually, they’re pretty happy about it. Aubrey thinks I’ll play better next season since I ‘got a girl.’”

Tess snorts. “Yeah, you’ll play better until March, then I’ll get cleared to be back on the court and I’ll drop 25 on you.”

Paige wrinkles her nose. “No way, ma. Try 2-point-5. As in 2.5 turnovers every time I guard you.”

Their banter continues until they reach the PT’s office. Craig greets them with an infectious grin and Tess immediately brightens. He helps her take the brace off of her leg and rolls up her pant leg, poking and prodding at her injury. After just a day and a half of actual care, much of the inflammation has reduced.

Craig walks her through some guided exercises, and much to Tess’s silent appreciation, Paige joins them, too. She has a charming smile on her face the entire time, tacking on ridiculous jokes at the absolute worst moments when Tess is out of breath from the stretch and when laughing feels like gasping for air. Paige is strangely helpful. She boosts both Tess’s morale, comforting her in the fact she’s not doing this alone, but she also has a plethora of tips on how to manage the pain and get a better stretch on the exercises. Her hands are warm on Tess’s knee when she adjusts her leg and the way it bends. Craig looks on with an approving nod, though he jokes that Paige is coming for his job, to which Paige huffs, “Tess don’t listen to me.” Tess can only roll her eyes at that, pretending like she doesn’t care about the way Paige’s hands massage the tension out of her leg.

When Craig steps out to grab his wrapping supplies, Paige stretches out her legs and reaches for her phone. “For the gram?” she asks easily, glancing at Tess for permission.

“Don’t call it that,” she grumbles, but nods anyway and pulls out her own phone. “You sound like an old person.”

“You sound like an old person,” Paige mocks, effectively lowering her age by a solid ten years, and Tess rolls her eyes in amusement. She slides a little closer to Tess, reaching for her left leg and draping it over her right one gently, locking their ankles together. “Good?” Tess hums, looking over Paige’s shoulder and throwing a thumbs up into view of the camera. “You’re so unoriginal,” Paige says, but she sticks her free hand in frame and presses her middle and ring fingers to her thumb, raising her index and pinky in the Husky salute.

“That’s basically a hard launch,” Tess says, though she doesn’t really care.

“Everything we do is a hard launch,” Paige retorts. “We got Instagram detectives, remember?”

Tess mulls it over for a second before turning to Paige with a mischievous grin. “You wanna break the internet?”

“Oh, now we’re talking.”

Paige posts her picture to her story, forgoing any sort of caption, and silences her phone. She gives Tess her undivided attention as she plots. Tess pulls Paige closer into her space, hooking her chin over her right shoulder and leaning against her. Setting up her phone at the right angle, she says, “Look to your left,” and Paige does so until her piercings, half of her low bun, and the slight curve of her jaw are the only things in frame. The lights glint off of the diamond studs in her ears – Tess has to resist a smirk at how obvious the picture is, but she quickly controls her expression, her lips drawing into a natural pout as she takes the photo.

“Got it?” Paige asks, tilting her head to look at the photo. A smile covers her face as she takes it in. “Tess, you’re evil. Everyone is gonna flip.”

“My notifications are going to explode,” she says forlornly. “This is the price I pay to be mysterious and sexy.”

“Mysterious, nah,” Paige says. Her eyes linger on Tess’s face for a moment before she breaks out into a grin. “Sexy…? Hell nah.”

Indignant, Tess pushes her away, sending Paige sprawling to the floor dramatically. “Asshole! What happened to those ‘women-respecting feelings?’”

“You just pushed me to the ground!” Paige cries. “Where are your women-respecting feelings?”

Craig walks in just then, his face morphing into amused confusion as he looks between the two of them, wrapping supplies in hand. “Am I interrupting something?” he jokes.

Tess tries to keep the blush off of her cheeks. “Paige is just being mean to me,” she declares. “Poor Tess Kennedy whose left knee doesn’t even work.”

“Bro!” Paige’s tone is exasperated, and it brings a smile to Tess’s face. “You’re full of sh–” Paige cuts herself off with a cough. “...Sharks. Full of sharks.”

Craig chuckles as he examines Tess’s knee one last time before nodding and beginning to wrap it. “Same stuff, okay? Ice it when you do independent exercise, keep using your crutches, absolutely nothing strenuous.”

Tess nods, thanking Craig and heading out with Paige at her side. Even though the PT combined with her lack of sleep the night before has left her exhausted, Tess is in a significantly better mood than she started the day with. It’s likely too early into her recovery to feel any sort of earth-shattering hope, but she can’t help but feel like she’s doing it. She has yet to attend her first therapy appointment and the light at the end of the tunnel is still ten months away, but it feels like she’s making it out alive. And for now, that’s good enough for her.

MAY 6, 2023

Sleep comes easier to her Friday night. The cravings returned in full force as she was getting ready for bed, but Tess was exhausted – she took a melatonin gummy and passed out, although her knee woke her up a time or two. She felt well-rested for the first time in a couple of days. The drinking numbed her enough that she was able to sleep, but the abrupt cut-off has her body in disarray. It’s a double-edged sword. Her body craves it, but every time she thinks about a drink, she’s so disgusted at the thought that she can nearly taste the bile in her mouth. While it makes the cravings subside for a moment, they always return. She takes Tylenol in the morning to ward off the impeding headache and chugs a cup and a half of water, feeling as though she needs to flush all the bullshit out of her body.

Kamilla and Bree are up early and the three of them mill about the kitchen as they prepare a light breakfast. It was a Saturday morning tradition for them, usually consisting of pancakes, bacon, and eggs and a lengthy conversation about their weeks or anything in general. They’ve missed out on it for the past month for…obvious reasons that Tess already nurses a lot of guilt over, but she’s keen on making up for lost time. Kam and Bree put her on bacon duty as it’s the least strenuous. She portions the meat in the pan and slides it into the oven as Kam and Bree bicker over their shared stovetop space.

It’s grounding. Tess contributes where she can, enjoying the peace of the moment and laughing along with her teammates when they say something stupid. It nearly makes her forget about her knee, about the guilt she’s working through as she continues to make amends. Part of her wonders why she’d ever resorted to shutting everyone out and losing herself when all she really needed was to just let them in. She watches Kam shout in indignation as Bree jokingly flicks a bit of pepper into her pancake batter, and all Tess can think about is how could she ever hurt those girls. She remembers her promise. Tess has let too many terrible things become a habit, but she refuses to let mistreating her friends be a continued one.

They all sit to eat and the chatter only stops long enough to pass around their bottle of maple syrup and the butter. Kam and Bree ask how PT’s been going, and Tess is honest when she answers. She’s only two days into it and more often than not, it hurts – but she knows it’s for the better. She doesn’t voice the worry that she might stop taking it as seriously once Paige is back in Connecticut. Tess was only partially joking when she told Craig she had an enforcer. Paige holds her accountable in a way she’s been trying to force herself into doing, but her mind is still such a mess that it’s difficult and all she wants to do is mope in bed all day. She knows Kam and Bree wouldn’t let her live that down and she doesn’t want them to feel like she still needs a babysitter.

They tell her that they're proud of her, and Tess feels the tears well up as she tells them to shut up.

“She’s so back,” Kamilla cheers, high-fiving Bree. “Our little ball of sunshine.” Tess can only roll her eyes.

Breakfast ends and Kam and Bree ensure that they’ve got the dishes. The clock on the stove reads 10:30. Tess knows that Paige is likely on her way. She hugs them both, promising to be back once she’s seen her off, and slips into her shoes just as a knock rings out at the door.

Paige’s brows draw into a dramatic furrow once they come face to face. “Damn, you opened this door mad quick,” she says. “Tryna get rid of me that fast?”

Tess cracks a smile, shutting the door behind them with the leg of her crutch. “The sooner you’re out of South Carolina, the better.” They walk down the hallway.

Paige sighs as she punches the elevator button for the lobby. “You’ll miss me,” she says, assured. “You’re gonna miss me bringin’ you coffee, DoorDashing you Chipotle, and making sure you don’t re-tear your ACL.”

“On the contrary…I’ll enjoy the peace and quiet.” Paige shoots her a dirty look and Tess can’t help but laugh.

Paige escorts her to the Uber she has waiting for them. She holds onto Tess’s crutches as she helps her into the passenger side backseat, laying her leg flat against the leather. Her foot nearly brushes the door. Confused and wondering what Paige is doing, the blonde shuts the door and rounds the side. As she settles in, she drapes Tess’s leg over her lap. “You good?”

Mouth dry, all Tess can do is nod, and Paige leans forward enough to instruct their Uber driver to head to the airport. Her palm falls flat on Tess’s shin, her thumb brushing against her leg, and with the way Paige stares out of the window, it’s almost like she doesn’t even register what she’s doing. Their ride is quiet, save for the driver's soft R&B that Paige bobs her head to. Tess slips her phone out of her pocket and snags a quick photo, flipping her phone screen to show her. Paige smiles at her wordlessly, knowing they shouldn’t verbally scheme in front of the driver, and Tess posts the photo to her story.

She refreshes her feed, combing through all of the shit she’s been tagged in from various college basketball update accounts and Instagram sleuths. She and Paige are the face of a new account named taigeupdates – which Tess is assuming is supposed to be their ship name? Given that the alternative is Pess – not that Tess has given it any thought, because she hasn’t! – she could live with it. The admin already has Tess’s story reposted and the comments are flooding in with many begging for an official hard launch since it’s already obvious.

Their driver parks in the designated drop off lane and Paige helps Tess out of the backseat, ensuring she’s stable on her crutches before she’s looping around to the trunk and pulling her carry-on and suitcase out. Tess can already feel the eyes on them, the hushed whispers of, “Is that Paige Bueckers and Tess Kennedy?” And despite years in the spotlight, she can’t help the anxious flush that creeps up on her neck. Having so many eyes on her makes her feel vulnerable enough, but combined with the fact she has a huge brace on her leg and she’s walking around with crutches? She feels uncomfortable, like she’s a pacing animal behind bars in the zoo.

“Ready?” Paige murmurs, stepping up behind her, pressing her free hand to the palm of Tess’s back. The touch comforts her slightly, but only because she’s accustomed to Paige right now and because they’re in this together. Tess gives her a solid nod, tightening her hands around the bars of her crutches. The blonde moves her hand down to her hip to give her a reassuring squeeze before placing it at the center of her back. Paige leads them into the airport, though she leans down, her mouth close to Tess’s ear as she whispers. “We shoulda talked about this earlier, but…what’s on and off limits right now?”

Tess swallows, trying to ignore the nerves. “Just do whatever feels right,” she answers honestly. “The media knows we just spent three days together, right? Don’t overthink it. I’m your girlfriend sending you off at the airport. Make it look like that and not two strangers trying to look the part.”

Paige grins insufferably at her. “Aw, I think that’s the first time you claimed me,” she says. Tess rolls her eyes, tempted to swat her with her crutch, but decides against it. The last thing she needs is Paige tripping and fucking up her knee even more. “So…nothing's off limits?”

“You wanna kiss me so bad you look stupid,” Tess says, nudging Paige with her elbow. From the corner of her eye, she can see the phone camera pointed at them, so she swallows her pride and looks up to Paige with a grin. “I think we should hug for sure. Anything else is too soon...like I said, we've spent three days together. I don't U-Haul.”

“Fine by me,” Paige says, looking far too comfortable as she walks through the airport. “Don't wanna do nothing you're uncomfortable with. Even if it would break the Internet. I know you like that shit.” Tess shrugs, but she was pleased with the media’s reaction so far. Between the two of them, Paige was definitely the menace and chaos-monger, although Tess enjoyed setting a fire once in a while. They finally reach Paige’s terminal and she leaves Tess’s side long enough to check in at the counter.

While she’s gone, a teenage girl approaches Tess with a shy expression, phone clutched in hand. “Excuse me, are you Tess Kennedy?” she asks.

“Guilty,” Tess jokes, leaning on her healthy leg.

“Do you mind if I get a picture?”

Tess shakes her head, saying, “Not at all,” as she moves to stand next to the girl. She angles the phone and Tess throws up a peace sign, grinning, and she snaps the photo. Before either of them can say anything else, Paige is walking back from the check in counter and the girl looks like she’s about to start doing cartwheels.

“Is that–”

“Unfortunately,” Tess sighs, which makes the girl laugh and Paige narrows her eyes. Remembering where they are, Tess smiles innocently.

“Can I get another picture with the both of you?”

Paige and Tess can’t resist. Paige rarely turns down her supporters in the first place, and all Tess can think about when she’s in these situations is all the times she’s ever met her idols and how it changed her life. Being in a situation to give back to the youth like that is one of the best parts about playing basketball. They pose on either side of the teenager as she takes the photo, and after quick hugs and a lot of gratitude, Paige and Tess are left alone.

Tess checks the time, realizing that Paige is boarding soon. The overhead PA confirms as much and Paige glances at Tess once more, hiking her carry-on bag higher on her shoulder. “You gonna miss me?” she asks teasingly, and Tess taps her chin, thinking.

“Hmm,” she ponders. “Not one bit.”

“You will,” Paige says confidently. “I got motion like that.” Tess rolls her eyes, unable to curb the warm fondness in her chest. She just pretends like it doesn’t exist. “Make sure you eat, alright? And go to PT. And be real with your therapist. Lemme hear you’re bein’ irresponsible and I’ll fly back down to set you straight.”

“Yes, Paige. Anything else?”

Paige shrugs, an easy smile on her face. “I know you pretend like you’ont like me, but I had fun with you. Even when you were mean.”

“Not mean,” Tess argues weakly. She can’t hide how touched she is by Paige’s words. “Just trying to keep your ego at a reasonable level.”

“Whatever you say, ma,” the blonde concedes. She opens her arms and Tess forgets all about the media, their story, whatever it is they’re supposed to be pretending to do as she wraps her arms around Paige’s waist. She could care less about the cameras, about the social media explosion they’re undoubtedly causing. Paige’s hands are warm on her back and her perfume makes Tess’s head spin. “Gimme a call if you need anything, I mean it. Don’t try to do this by yourself. Promise me.”

“Promise,” Tess vows. Paige pulls back ever so slightly, her eyes studying Tess’s face as her hands slide down her back, resting on her hips. Paige smiles at her and gives her a gentle squeeze before pulling away completely. She and Paige are both flushed, though the red creeping up Tess’s neck feels strangely like embarrassment.

“Call you when I land?” she asks quietly. Tess nods, forcing a smile, and they share their final goodbyes before Paige walks away.

Tess watches as she goes, suddenly hyper aware of the cameras and the crowd, and she holds back a sigh. She needs to get it together. None of that was real. She’s just a mess emotionally, touch-starved after a month-long crash out, and she’s letting it get to her head. She’ll feel more regulated after a nap and some stretches.

Hopefully.

[drdemonprince]

Most of us begin the Autism unmasking process looking for greater self-acceptance, but don’t realize what a messy, uncertain, weakened, traumatized, resentful version of ourselves we’re going to have to accept. Secretly, we hope that the unmasked version of us will be just as capable and comfortable as we always pretended to be — but also much happier, and more authentic. 

The great challenge of unmasking, then, is letting go of all pre-conceived notions of the type of person we must be, so that we can simply exist in the moment, feeling whatever we feel and needing whatever we need. 

It can take many years for a person to reach this point. I’ve also noticed there are common phases that Autistics move through as we go about unmasking — periods of questioning, self-loathing, anger, withdrawal, exploration, relief, and obsessive self-consciousness, just to name a few. 

Not all of these phases appear for everyone, of course and they do not necessarily come in a specific order. Rather than viewing them as stages that progress in a linear fashion, we can see them instead as common psychological defenses that emerge when a person is having a hard time reconciling their disability with their beliefs about who they should be. 

Important internal work is happening when a person seems to be “caught” in any particular phase. Some phases are needed corrections for society’s anti-disability stigma — such as the phase where a person believes that Autism makes them inherently superior to allistics. Others are corrections for those corrections, a hypothesis and antithesis that gradually resolve into a synthesis within the disabled person’s life. 

These phases don’t last forever, and we learn something important each time that we pass through them. Like the phases of the moon, these phases may recur in our lives in an almost cyclical fashion, bringing us closer to accepting the truth of ourselves each time. Remember as you read through this list of phases that arriving at a final state of “recovery” is not the goal. When we unmask, we’re not trying to get rid of our disability, after all — we’re just hoping to understand and accept all that is inside us a bit better. 

And so, to help you prepare for your unmasking journey, here are some of the common phases of unmasking: 

Questioning 

It’s incredibly common for a masked Autistic person to spend months or even years questioning whether they actually are disabled, or have the “right” to openly identify as such. Even after a person has researched Autism at length, sought external input from loved ones and a therapist, and integrated themselves deeply within the neurodivergent community, they may be struck with regular bouts of uncertainty. 

We can blame this on a society that investigates every single claim of disability repeatedly for evidence of fraud, and a culture where disabled people are accused of being delusional, manipulative attention-seekers. 

Obsessing (About Autism)

One way that questioning Autistics try to resolve their uncertainty is by consuming every piece of information and commentary about Autism that they could possibly find. Autism often becomes one of our special interests, early in our unmasking — making us see Autism between the pages of every book, and on the confused face of every stranger. 

When a person is obsessing about Autism, they may reference their disability as an explanation for every single behavior they or anyone else ever exhibits. Tying your shoes in the “bunny-goes-round-the-tree” style is an Autism thing. Liking the small spoon is an Autism thing. That rude comment I just made about your appearance is an Autism thing, and so you cannot criticize me for it, because that’s a core part of my being I can’t change. Every person in the obsessed Autistic person’s life may be assigned disability labels: he’s got ADHD, she’s a PDAer, your dad’s undiagnosed Autism is the reason he stands in the middle of the room watching TV. 

Obsessing (About the Self)

Unmasking requires a high degree of curiosity about the self. A person can’t even notice there’s a disjoint between their authentic feelings and how they present themselves to others unless they look within. Unfortunately, doing so means constantly asking ourselves whether our actions reflect our true selves, and what our “true self” even is — and thinking too much about these questions can make the mind loop back on itself infinitely. 

When I first started unmasking, I could not stop assessing how I carried my own body. I knew that my posture was “bad,” in neurotypical terms, but was that because I had muscle underdevelopment caused by Autism, or because I was always trying to make myself inobtrusive and small? Would it be “unmasking” for me to stand straight and claim more space — or would that be me masking even worse, by imitating neurotypical confidence? 

Autism Supremacy 

Though many unmasking Autistics experience a big drop in self-esteem, it’s equally as common for us to take immense pride in our neurotype, even to an excessive degree. During the Autism supremacy phase of unmasking, Autistic people may feel that their disability actually makes them more moral, logical, emotionally attuned, intelligent, or compassionate than others. 

“Autistic people do have empathy! In fact, we have more empathy than anyone else!” You may hear an Autism supremacist declare proudly, pushing back against the stereotype of us as “anti-social” monsters. But the argument that some of us actually experience hyper-empathy, while true, does nothing to challenge the ableism of equating a person’s emotional sensitivity with their humanity. 

I wrote about the many phases that unmasking Autistics tend to pass through, and the various needs those phases exist to meet. You can read the full piece (or have it narrated to you by the Substack app) for FREE at drdevonprice.substack.com

[leporidaecervinae]

Sorry, but would you want your most inner personal feelings and potential first kiss with someone to be recorded, cut together, and then uploaded to [whereever]??? We've also seen that Nandor is not great with physical affection in general. The closest we get with anyone who's not Guillermo is Marwa (the faked out head kiss) and Colin (the actual head kiss, but he was sleep hypnotised)

It's not that Guillermo is not 'good enough', what 😂 If anything the finale proved that Nandor was finally making himself good enough for Guillermo by making the lair in the first place, letting Guillermo believe that he'd have to do more of the work (that whispered conversation), and then surprising him that he'd built the entire thing from scratch already? You've never been in a relationship where you pretend everything is normal as hell only to surprise your partner with a big display?

This is wwdits, why wouldn't Nandor build a giant underground space just to have a place that is for Guillermo and Nandor? The whole elevator is explicitly for Guillermo. Nandor can turn into a bat and fly down if he wants. It's Nandor giving something of himself. It's him being thoughtful, even if it's goofy as fuck and plausibly deniable like so many people seem to take at face value. That's their whole entire thing.

The flirting by the coffin tells us that there's things that Nandor is not willing to do on camera. So why would we ever have gotten to see it on camera?

After all the jokes about Guillermo carrying around a secret affair...and all the hinting about why it will be better when the cameras are gone...

Nandor had to have started the lair long before he knew the doc crew was leaving. And he still built a secret lair only accessible by coffin elevator (by himself, with no work required on Guillermo’s part).

In other words...he made a place he and Guillermo could be alone together, away from the cameras.

[b4tracha]

Nicknames You Gave SKZ | OT8 x M! Reader

Three days in a row of posting? School was holding me back, I think!

Based on this post I did earlier this year

Bang Chan- Handsome

Chan is very insecure, and you have been working on that since you noticed it. It was almost your mission to make him believe you. One day, he called you while on a music video set. The only thing you could say was, “Handsome.” He almost hung up on you as he beamed and hid his face, denying your claims. Of course, you were going to keep calling him that.

Lee Know- Pudding

If you know Minho, you know he loves pudding more than anything. He took you to Japan for a vacation, and as soon as the plane landed, you found the closest convenience store. He bought no less than 10 cups of pudding while you watched with concern. It had to be an addiction at this point. However, you are what you eat, so he is now your pudding.

Changbin- Bun

Changbin is a pigbunny and was born during the year of the rabbit. It was bound for him to have a bunny-themed name. Well, it didn’t start as a bunny name. It began as honeybun, but you slowly shortened it to bun. It seemed to fit him more with his chewable bun-like cheeks and bunny antics.

Hyunjin- Dear

You were watching a drama, and someone called their significant other the name. It inspired you to say the same. It held so much weight and was beautiful to you, just like Hyunjin. Sometimes, you will remix it by saying “my dear” or “my dearest” or using synonyms for dear, but Hyunjin loves it best when you just say Dear.

HAN- Sugar

The heart-shaped smile he gave you when you called him sugar for the first time will forever be ingrained in your mind. If he calls you honey, you have to keep the theme. Jisung is very sweet; sometimes, it just makes you want to eat him. Let Jisung tell the story, and he’ll say you have tried several times even though it was biting his cheeks.

Felix- Pixie

People say Felix was always a fairy, but you think Pixie fits him best. It’s close to the nickname Lixie, and Pixies tend to be more mischievous than fairies. Felix may pretend to be an angel, but he can be really naughty sometimes and pretend he has no idea what you are talking about. Although, that is also what you loved about him.

Seungmin- Princess

Seungmin did not expect calling you a spoiled prince who always does anything to get what he wants would turn into this. However, he should have known when that cheeky grin slowly appeared on your face. Him? A princess? He could only huff while struggling with his smile and pink cheeks. Maybe he liked being your princess a little.

I.N- Babe

Like I said before, Jeongin doesn’t care for pet names. He would prefer the average Innie that most people call him. However, he doesn’t mind when you call him babe or baby. He is baby bread to stays and his members, but he was just your baby, which was special enough for him.

[mossplot]

Mouth washing character headcannons: :D

TW:MENTIONS OF ASSAULT AND NSFW

CURLY:

-has a CRIPPLING fear of letting people down.

-runs left and right and up and down, all over trying to please everyone.

-due to this, he gets burnt out fast.

-gives amazing advice to others, but (stereotypically) cannot follow the advice himself.

~”He said WHAT to you? You absolutely do not deserve that!”

~”Okay, yes. Jimmy did say that to me, but that’s different!”

-we all know Aussie Curly.😏

-i believe his accent would only be think and noticeable when showing a lot of emotion in his voice.

-he seems to be the pinnacle of health with all his weightlifting and snow sport hobbies!

-with that being said, I believe this man 100% lectures the other crew members about their health, eating habits, exercise regimens, ect…(yes, even Anya🙄)

-he does this out care! He’s not trying to be a stickler.

-100% smells of sweat and cheep yet fairly good smelling cologne. Working at Pony Express can’t afford you brand name things.



ANYA:

-Anya 100% enjoyes mint ice cream.

-also oddly specific, but I get the vibe that she’d enjoy peanuts but dislike peanut butter, claiming “it tastes totally different!”

-we already know she’s a try hard at board games, but don’t even get her started at team games like charades or Pictionary.

~”Daisuke HOW DID YOU GET HELICOPTER FROM THAT?! I WAS LITERALLY PRETENDING TO SWIM!!!”

-I also feel like she’s an Ambivert, it all just depends on the situation and who she’s around.

-also isn’t a huge fan of physical touch unless she’s close with the person. If she is, she’s constantly touching them in some way 24/7.

-a gentle hand on their shoulder, feet touching as they lay at opposite ends of the couch, holding hands.

-she just really loves her friends.

-a huge girls girl.

-bi, with a huge leaning towards women, to be precise.

-gets overwhelmed very easily.

-has a very distinct laugh, a laugh that when you hear it-it is funnier than the joke that was told.

-originally wanted to be an astronomer and stayed up late looking out her bedroom windows connecting the stars in new constellations.

-closest to Daisuke.

-smells good, like lavender and rosemary-very earthy but it’s faint and not pungent.

SWANSEA:

-finds lint in his bellybutton 24/7.

-would lay in his recliner at home and not like what was playing in tv, but would also be too lazy to get the remote and change it, subsequently falling asleep instead.

-It’s obvious that he’s not great at expressing his love, this is shown by his interactions with Daisuke. This extends to his family too.

-was never able to offer more than a loose arm around the shoulder of his daughters or wife and a “Cheer up, it could always be worse.”

-despite this, the gifts (very personal and thought out I may add) he comes home with for them prove his love to them.

-used to be incredibly fit.

-secretly thinks Curly is a pushover and dislikes him for how he lets Jimmy treat him.

~”Now a REAL man woulda socked him something good!”

~”Please, Swansea. I can’t go assaulting my own crew!” (Ironic)

-his daughters and/or wife would periodically wake up to him stomping through the house, coughing, burping, farting, pissing loudly…basically all the things dads do.

-would always only walk around in underwear and shirt. (Not in a weird way)

-daughters would be MORTIFIED when they had friends over and they see Swansea waking up from his midday nap walking past scratching his ass in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear.

-is one of those old fashioned dads who threatens his daughters boyfriends.

-absolutely LOVES asparagus.

-one time “accidentally” hit Jimmy in the nuts pretending to swat a bug away.

-also doesn’t smell bad: a little like tabaco (I believe he smokes) and alcohol, but also a lot like motor oil and old spice.

DAISUKE:

-also a huge girls girl!

-100% has nipple piercings and you CANNOT convince me otherwise.

-had an Emo phase in middle school.

-is incredibly lucky at only board games. Anything else? Absolutely the worst luck ever.

-was generally liked throughout his schools due to his easy going and goofy nature.

-his guilty pleasure is Southpark and huddles away on the ship to watch it on his game boy (somehow).

-has jailbroken all his phones only to need to buy new ones to AGAIN jail break those ones.

-has a speed run channel on YouTube where he is actually really good and holds several records.

-did gymnastics as a kid and is incredibly flexible.

-loves playing board games with Anya just to see her get pissed off.

-will sit in medbay yapping to her for hours on end, switching from topic to topic with really no direction.

-draws little characters of all the crew members and hides them on the ship. Anya and Curly thought it was endearing, Swansea would never admit it but he did too, and Jimmy did NOT like Yimpy.

-loves watching asmr, especially scalp and hair play and jumps at the opportunities where Anya offers to play with and/or do his hair.

-despite being goofy and easygoing, he’s not stupid. He had decent grades in high school and continues to in college and can be serious when need be.

-I head cannon him as a big brother, who absolutely adores his little sister.

-oh! She wants this? He’ll buy it! She wants to go here? He’ll come with! Someone’s picking on her? He’s already taking care of it. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

-this man smells of sweetener. He must’ve rolled in a pile of of it because he reeks of it.

JIMMY:

-100% has and still does jerk off to photos of Curly WHO SAID THAT?!

-had an okay childhood to a single father.

-has a tramp stamp curly convinced him to get when he (Jimmy) was drunk back in college.

-also weight lifts with Curly.

-has UNNECESSARILY hairy feet. Like, all over him is hairy, but his feet are just big bushes.

-actually fairly agile.

-is obviously a Brony (duh). Curly needed to borrow his laptop one time in high school and…never again.

-his best class in high school was art! Can do fairly decent sketches and enjoys it a lot.

-really, really likes newports.

-snores loudly. To the point it will wake up people on the ship and they’ll come complaining to him. He obviously doesn’t give a shit.

-ran a Reddit account back in high school posting r/im14andthisisdeep.

-regularly tried to steal or drive away Curly’s girlfriends in high school and college, claiming he knew what was best for Curly and they were taking advantage of him.

-takes a little less care of himself than the other members, so he smells a little worse. As an aroma of musk and sweat, along with Curly’s cologne because he can’t be bothered to buy his own. (sharing is caring, right?)

BIPPIE!! I MADE MY FIRST POST ON HERE! :D

[ilovedinodino]

…i was so miserable? l. hc smau

36. I’m not miserable anymore. (written) wc: 1719

You open the door and find Haechan standing right on your doorstep. He’s wearing a black hoodie, his hands tucked behind his back.

“What are you doing here?!”

"I wanted to see you," He said with his mischievous smile.

"At twelve o’clock at night?" You asked, looking at him in surprise.

Haechan just shrugged and confidently stepped into your apartment. While you were closing the door, he turned around and stopped, looking at you.

There was something shining in Haechan’s eyes, and with a wide smile, he pulled out a bouquet from behind his back. Your favorite flowers. He never forgot such little things, and that’s what made you love and appreciate him so much.

"Flowers? What’s the occasion?" You teased, pretending to be shocked. Haechan mimicked your expression.

"Can’t I just give you flowers?" Haechan asked innocently.

"You can… but on a random Saturday at midnight?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Exactly" Haechan replied with a sly smile.

You took the flowers from his hands, inhaled their scent, and Haechan leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. His attention to detail always amazed and melted your heart. You put the bouquet in a vase and returned to the living room, where he was already sprawled out on the couch. As soon as you sat down next to him, Haechan immediately wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin.

"I missed you so much" He whispered softly, his voice tender.

"God, you’re still so clingy and romantic, even though it’s been a year" You said with a small smile, slightly pulling away to look at him.

"How can I be any different when I have a girlfriend like you?" Haechan looked into your eyes, his gaze warm and deep. The way he looked at you made you flustered, and you quickly averted your gaze.

"I missed you too… By the way, I really liked that photo" You mumbled.

"Photo?" Haechan paused for a second, but then his lips curled into a smirk.

"Yeah, the one you posted on Twitter" You clarified, rolling your eyes, though your voice betrayed that you had secretly stared at it more than once.

"So I did get your attention!" He said triumphantly and then added slyly: "But you decided to keep quiet about it? My baby… I knew you were obsessed with me."

Before you could reply, Haechan pulled you into his arms again, burying his face into your neck and peppering it with soft kisses. His touch made you giggle and squirm.

"Haechan, stop! It tickles!" You tried to wriggle away, but his laughter drowned out all your protests.

“How was your appointment with the psychiatrist today? Did everything go well?” Haechan asked kindly, looking at you intently.

You hesitated for a moment but then smiled. You had been seeing a psychologist and psychiatrist for eight months now. At first, it seemed scary and pointless to you. You didn't believe that talking or treatment could change anything, but it was Haechan who convinced you to try. He was there with you at the first sessions, holding your hand and reassuring you that you'd make it. In the beginning, it was really hard: there were a lot of tears, fears, and disappointments, but gradually, things started to change. You felt yourself getting better, breathing more easily, and not drowning in your own thoughts.

Haechan had always been your steady anchor, your support, and your inspiration. He didn't let you give up and helped even when you couldn't believe in yourself. For that, you were grateful.

“It went well!” You finally said, not hiding your happy smile. “I think it was my best session ever. Usually, after them, I feel this emptiness inside… But today I felt calm, even good.”

Haechan smiled in response and gently ran his hand through your hair.

“I'm so happy, my love” He said warmly. “I'm glad you're doing well now.”

“Thanks to you” you replied, softly snuggling into him.

Haechan shook his head, his gaze turning firm yet gentle.

“No, it’s all thanks to you. You did it on your own.”

“Alright, I won’t argue” You giggled, and he nodded in satisfaction.

“That's right.”

Haechan pulled you closer and kissed you gently on the lips. This kiss was special — slow and unhurried. It carried only love and care, which he desperately wanted to convey to you.

Suddenly, a loud phone ring broke the moment. You pulled away, a little disoriented, and looked at Haechan.

“Who is it?” you asked, and he only grimaced, clearly unwilling to let you go.

“Don’t pay attention” he muttered, unwillingly whispering words to you on your lips, trying to pull you back into his arms.

“Answer it! What if it’s something important?” You insisted, pulling away from his embrace.

With a heavy sigh, Haechan took the phone out of his jeans pocket. On the screen, the name “Jenoya” was flashing.

“What do you want?” Haechan muttered, answering the call, still holding you with his other hand.

You laughed and playfully hit Haechan on the arm for answering Jeno so rudely. Haechan just scoffed, continuing to listen to the caller.

A few seconds passed, and you noticed his expression suddenly change. He froze, eyes wide open, then covered his mouth with his hand. Your heart started pounding faster in surprise.

«What?» you whispered nervously, trying to figure out what was happening.

Haechan pulled the phone away from his ear, switched it to speaker, and brought it closer to you both.

«Say that again to Y/N,» he demanded, barely containing the excitement in his voice.

«Y/N? Hi!» came Jeno’s voice from the speaker. He sounded excited, but at the same time, a little concerned.

You swallowed, still confused, and replied:

«Hi, Jeno. What’s going on?»

«Do you remember that worldwide, very successful dance competition that was held last year in LA? “Dance World”?» Jeno began, pausing slightly. «I… submitted your project with Haechan from last year for the selection, and… they accepted it.»

You froze, staring at the phone in disbelief, then looked over at Haechan. He was staring back at you with the same shocked expression, but slowly, a wide, almost victorious smile began to spread across his lips.

«What?!» You jumped up from the couch, unable to believe your ears.

«“Dance World”? The one everyone talks about? Are you serious? Don’t joke with me like that, Lee Jeno,» your voice trembled with shock and panic.

«I’m not joking!» Jeno exhaled loudly through the phone. «They accepted my— I mean, your submission, and now you can participate this year in the “duet” category!»

«Are you insane?! Why did you submit it?» you exclaimed, unsure how to react.

«I liked your choreography so much, I couldn’t help myself,» Jeno’s voice sounded both guilty and pleased. «I had to send it somewhere… so I accidentally submitted it for the audition.»

«Accidentally?!» You stared at the phone, completely stunned. «You’re crazy, Lee Jeno.»

Your strength left you, and you sank back onto the couch, staring blankly at the floor. The silence was broken by Haechan’s voice.

«Y/N… let’s participate?» His voice was soft but filled with sincerity and hope.

You looked up and saw him gazing at you with those big, puppy-dog, pleading eyes. You knew very well there was something deeper behind that look.

«We don’t even know where it’s happening!» you weakly protested, though you already felt the decision was made.

«In Japan,» Jeno’s voice suddenly rang out from the speaker.

You turned to look at Haechan again, who now seemed as though he might cry from the overwhelming emotions.

«Please?» His voice wavered, and his lips trembled into a tender smile.

You sighed heavily, trying to gather your thoughts.

«Haechan, I’m still battling my anxiety, even when performing in the studio. How will I step onto a global stage?» you whispered, lowering your voice.

Unexpectedly, Haechan dropped to his knees in front of you, tossing the phone onto the couch beside you. You blinked in surprise. He took your hands in his and spoke softly but with confidence:

«Y/N… it’s going to be okay. I promise. It’s just always been my dream to perform at this competition. But most importantly… now I have the chance to not just participate, but to do it with you. With the person I love.»

You stared at him for a long time, trying to process his words. Haechan was so genuine and moving that something inside you clicked. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and you understood how much this meant to him. You wanted to thank him for everything—for his support, his love, for always believing in you when you couldn’t believe in yourself. Maybe this wouldn’t just be his chance, but yours too.

Taking a deep breath, you met his warm gaze.

«Okay,» you said quietly.

«Okay?!» Haechan froze for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

«Yes,» you barely nodded before he scooped you up and spun you around the room, squealing with joy like a child who’d just found the perfect gift under the Christmas tree.

«Y/N! Y/N! I love you!» he shouted, spinning you endlessly, while loud celebratory screams erupted from Jeno on the phone.

Finally, Haechan carefully set you back down, his face glowing with pure happiness. He cupped your face in his hands, his big eyes sparkling with love and gratitude.

«Y/N, I love you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you,» he whispered, as though speaking any louder would be impossible.

You couldn’t help but smile. Looking at him, you knew you’d made the right decision. Leaning in, you kissed him, feeling a sense of peace settle over your heart. Somewhere deep inside, a thought crossed your mind:

I’m not miserable anymore.

When you finally pulled apart, your fingers brushed along his jawline. Suddenly, Jeno’s voice from the phone made both of you freeze.

«Oh my god, Jaemin’s going to lose his mind when he hears he’s coming to Japan!»

«Jaemin?!» you and Haechan shouted in unison, spinning toward the phone, staring at the screen in disbelief.

«When did you two get so close?» you asked, but all you got in response were the sounds of a disconnected call.

SYNOPSIS : Haechan was in love with a girl from his dance studio, but one day he accidentally found her Twitter account with her terrible secrets

or how Haechan found out that his crush suffers from depression and anxiety

prev / masterlist

note: it’s done omg😭 thanks to everyone who read this! it was my first smau ever so I still think it was a mess but at least I finished this ✔️ please feel free to send me feedback on this smau, i will glad to read your opinions🥺 and i will do extras so stay tuned!

taglist (open) : @alethea-moon @dinonuguaegi @jenoleeaesthetic @gukuwii @doughyk @elsbunny @dudekiss3r @yuthabitz @thegracerammy @soobinbunnie5 @joyzluvr @yewshi @miniature-tragedy @jaymelee @foxy-kitsune @slayhaechan @chibilino @sleepyvic @minkyuncutie @olladecaramelos @samvagejkflxhrt @gomdoleemyson @nctjunie @ypoom151999 @silvsie @bitchzitschimi @defzcl @cigsaftersuh @spacejip @onlyforyoukook @taeeflwrr

[zorilleerrant]

things I think are responsible for the reading comprehension crisis, rather than the things people always talk about:

people get so worried that kids will hate reading that they profusely compliment any analysis young kids make, even when it's blatantly wrong, like A Modest Proposal levels of wrong. which means later when someone argues they refuse to listen because they think they're perfect at analyzing books

teachers are so overworked and undersupplied (and often assholes) that they demand only a specific version of analysis that they agree with and if anyone has any competing arguments they get their grades docked. possibly due to above

because of the literacy crisis, people keep putting huge, daunting classics in front of kids instead of fun books. this leads kids to believe that books can't be fun. or that books can only be fun if you pretend they have nothing to say

knowing that encouraging reluctant readers in reading literally anything improves literacy, people start encouraging all readers the same way. this leads to kids believing they're super smart and special readers who read way above grade level when they're actually falling seriously behind

the attitude of 'everyone has something worthwhile to say' means that people work really hard to compliment students who say things that are pointless or even fundamentally wrong. while withholding praise from students who make creative contributions in case it seems 'unfair'

that weird thing where kids now believe that everyone has to agree on everything or they're experiencing violence

increased push for diverse perspectives in fiction simultaneous with a push against describing the backgrounds or social situations of various authors (or historical figures in general) means there's less context and more confusion

it seems like people have stopped explaining that you can enjoy something artistically while disagreeing with its message or values? I blame advertisers for this one because it's the thing that lets kids not fall for commercials

too much emphasis on how 'everyone is smart' instead of placing less social import on intelligence. leads to ideas like 'no one can be more talented at anything than anyone else, they only practiced more' which makes more perceptive kids dumb down their analysis so no one thinks they're being stuck up. it also makes people believe no two books could be saying different things

the strong push against TV, movies, video games, etc. being considered art means people no longer bother to analyze them artistically. so they don't exercise the same skills they'd need for reading while doing other things

and the related push that reading is always a 'brainy' activity and all books are 'equally smart', meaning that even books that don't say much must secretly be incredibly complex and have deep, well-researched messages. which leads to people inventing things that aren't there. and since they have nothing to practice on, also no learning how to pick up on things that are there

the idea that there's some inherent divide between 'mindless' activities and 'intellectual' activities, and that it's a trait of the activities themselves, not how people engage with them. so people are under the impression they don't have to try to do anything in particular. it'll just happen

the creepy thing where people universalize history and think everything has always been the same as it is now, only worse (or better, depending) and related misunderstandings

whatever has happened to fact-checking

novels genuinely are worse quality now because there's less money in it and therefore way more constraints on who writes and what they write and how it gets popularized

[steddieas-shegoes]

underneath the tree

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'tree'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated g | 589 words | no cw | tags: fluff, established relationship, slice of life, christmas presents

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

Rory doesn’t believe in Santa anymore, so presents have been piling up under the tree for days. Most of them are for her, from Steve and Eddie, but there’s one that’s for Steve from Eddie.

Steve stares at it from the couch. He’s supposed to be making packets for back to school in a week, but the shiny wrapping paper is distracting. It’s not too big, and looks like a box that might hold clothing, but Eddie wouldn’t buy him any clothes after the last time he tried.

Steve kept the sweater, but it’s still the ugliest thing he owns.

It’s heavy, too. Steve already picked it up once and tried to move it around gently to see if he could recognize the noise it made.

He still has no clue.

It’s especially irritating because Steve struggled so much this year to find something Eddie would want. He’s usually pretty easy to buy for, loves trinkets and sentimental things, but not this year.

When asked what he wanted, Eddie told everyone nothing and stood by it.

Even when the new Bauer goalie stick came out, he insisted he didn’t want it.

Steve shakes his head, tries to focus back on the task at hand. He doesn’t know why he’s so hung up on this gift, but he vows to do his best to ignore it until he’s done.

It lasts a whole four minutes before he’s setting the papers down and walking over to the tree. It can’t hurt to pick it up, test the weight again.

He’s still at a loss when Rory walks in, yawning and wiping her eyes. She had an early morning practice followed by a clinic and two tests online, so Steve told her to go take a nap before her evening ice time.

He sets the gift down, but she saw him before he could pretend he wasn’t being nosy.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to touch the presents before Christmas?” Rory asks.

“You aren’t. I can.”

“That doesn’t seem very fair,” Rory argues.

She’s not wrong, but Steve wants to drop it and move on so he doesn’t have to explain himself.

“How was your nap?” He asks instead of answering her.

“It was fine. Dad won’t be happy about you trying to figure it out.”

Steve sighs. He knows. And he knows if he ruins it for himself he’ll be upset, too.

“I just don’t know what it could be. We said we’d just buy one small gift, but it feels heavy, and he hasn’t even given any hints.”

“That is unlike him. Maybe you should just check his internet history,” Rory suggests.

“That’s cheating,” Eddie says from the front door. He’s got a huge smile on his face, one that Steve knows means he overheard most of their conversation.

“Hey dad,” Rory greets him with a wave before she walks to the kitchen. She probably should get some snacks in her system if she wants to have energy for later.

“Hey little one,” he says back, voice filled with the same fondness he’s had since day one. “Caught him trying to sneak a peek?”

“I wasn’t gonna open it!” Steve exclaims. “I’m just curious.”

“You could open it early if it’s killing you that much,” Eddie offers.

“I can wait. It’s gonna kill me, but I can.”

****

The next day, there’s three more presents stacked in front of Steve’s gift, hiding it completely from view.

Steve looks at the tree with a smirk.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Hopefully.

[promenadewithme]

Twelve Days of Christmas - Chapter 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem! reader Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: slight angst (i swear the fluff is coming), sexual content (not sex, but mentions of it), food (sweets, coffee), established relationship (marriage and divorce), motherhood, not proofread and i'm sick so there might be some screwups along the way a/n: i swear I planned on writing a chapter a day and I'm so so so sorry for taking longer than that, but I'm really sick and can't think straight most of the day (I just finished writing this at 1am). I promise I'll try to finish this until Christmas. I hope you all like it, though <3 pls tell me if it sucks.

part 1 part 2 part 3

The rich vanilla scent of something sweet, the empty bed beside you, water running, Liv’s giggles, James’ footsteps. Any one of those things could have woken you. Even though you knew there were a few more minutes before your alarm went off, the noises were a comfort, ones you hadn’t heard in a long while. Ones you did not know if you would hear again after this holiday season. So, you sat there and absorbed it, every little crumb you could catch through the door.

As your daughter’s giggles got closer, you closed your eyes and pretended to be asleep. Liv loved waking you up, so you always let her think she did. Whispers were exchanged before the door to your bedroom opened.

“Mommy” she whispered, caressing your face “wake up, we have a surprise for you.”

Your eyes opened to a pair identical to your husband’s, the same kind, melancholy, piercing steel that reached your soul. Leaning against the door frame, food tray in hand, James watched you both. There was uncertainty in his eyes. Can I come in or not? They whispered. You didn’t know the answer, so you looked back at Liv.

“Good morning, angel” you smiled and pulled her onto the bed, hugging her tightly. Her giggles filled the room as you tickled her sides “What surprise do you have for me?” you asked once she calmed down.

“Show her, daddy.” She jumped on the bed and James finally came in, slowly and unsteady, to his side of the bed.

After lowering the tray with a tight-lipped smile, he clasped his hands behind his back. Waiting. His military training never quite leaving him. To others, it might seem like a residue habit, but you knew he acted like this when he wanted to keep his shield up. He was upset.

He has no right to be. That voice resonated in your head. And it was right. He was the one who never showed up, the one who stopped touching you, loving you. The one who walked away from this marriage, from his own family, the second things got hard. He was like a ghost, you knew he was there in the dead of night and sometimes left tracks behind, but you never actually saw him. Now it felt like you were being haunted, seeing him in broad daylight, close enough to touch. When was the last time you gazed into his eyes? The last time you saw the light stroke his hair to reveal auburn streaks? The last time you both stopped for long enough to actually look at each other?

“We made pancakes with maple syrup and coffee” Olivia said, and you realized just how long you and James had been staring at one another “Mommy, do you like it?”

Peeling your eyes away from your husband, forced the most natural smile possible “I love it, sweetie. Thank you so much.” You kissed her forehead before looking back at James “And thank you, daddy.”

“You’re welcome.” He nodded, a faint blush painting his cheeks.

God, he was beautiful. You missed this, you missed him. There was so much you wanted to say. You wanted to yell at him, and kiss him, and ask so many questions, then hit him, but then kiss him better again. You wanted any excuse to put your hands on him.

Maybe I’m making a mistake. You thought gingerly.

But then his phone rang, and he said he had to take it outside. Then he left. Again. For what most probably was a work call.

Or not, the anxiety whispered, what would he have to hide from work?

Forcing yourself to believe it was paranoia, remembering that his clients were confidential, and that Liv had school, you brought yourself back to the present. It didn’t even matter anyways, in twelve days you would start the divorce process and all of this would be over.

“Have you eaten?” you asked Liv.

She gave you a sheepish grin and you already knew she had eaten the batter while they were making it.

“What?” you poked, matching her smile. You couldn’t help it, she was just too cute.

“I ate the batter.” She whisper-shouted and hid her head in the pillow.

You stifled a laugh and questioned whether or not she was still hungry, the answer being no. Hand in hand, you took your daughter to her room, leaving her to pick out her outfit of the day while you grabbed her lunch from the fridge and filled her water bottle. After a few minutes, she walked out with her still- tangled hair, a hideous Christmas sweater and pink leggings. Nothing matched, yet it was so authentically Olivia.

“Did you brush your teeth?”

Her answer was running back into her room. No, then. You were leaving her things by the door when James came back in.

“Do you want me to drop her off?” he asked quietly, putting his phone back into his pocket.

“No need, I’m taking her then meeting Wanda for coffee after she drops off Billy and Tommy.” You say, rushing into your room to change into something presentable. Since you were already off work, there was no need to dress business, so you picked out the first gym set you saw. Navy pants and jacket, along with a white top, that hugged your curves perfectly. You remembered James saying he loved how it made you look months ago. He also showed you how it made him feel. It had been a particularly good nailing. To the counter, then against the wall, the bed… You wondered if he still remembered, if you still turned him on.

He was staring at it like maybe he did, but you couldn’t be sure. You were never sure when it came to him these days. The silence was getting far too loud, him just standing against the door looking all gorgeous and delectable, looking at you. It made you feel like when you met him all over again. Not quite certain if he hated you or wanted to fuck your brains out. It always made you say the most awkward things, like the phrase that came out of your mouth before you could help yourself.

“You could tag along if you want” you offered a smile “Though I don’t know if Wanda would want to say certain girl things in front of you, so maybe we could get you a seat by the window, a few tables away from us. I could still get you a macchiato, though. Maybe even something with cinnamon, I don’t know if they still have it, but it would be quite festive, right? I might just get myself a tall glass of Christmas. Christmas in a cup. What rhymes with Christmas?”

You couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth, you usually couldn’t when you were nervous. And you were. This was your best friend, your husband, but also a stranger you weren’t sure you recognized, someone you would soon only have one tie left with.

His eyes gleamed as he looked at you, looking almost in awe, an almost smile creeping in. That is, before he remembered his phone call.

“I wish I could, doll, I really do. But that was Stark on the phone”

“Right.” You nodded curtly, tongue against your front teeth, trying your hardest not to pick a fight over the same topic over and over again. Walking into the bathroom, you slammed the door and started to change.

There it was, the reason you were unhappy in the first place. Your husband was a workaholic. He had a problem, and he did not know how to set boundaries when it came to his boss. He was supposed to be home, with his family, and there he went back. Couldn’t even wait a whole day before giving up on giving his daughter a happy holiday.

“I’m sorry.” He said against the door.

“Yeah, you keep saying that.” You spat out, wiping a stray tear and zipping up your jacket.

“I mean it. You won’t even notice I’m gone. I’ll be back before you know it, before you’re home. I promise”

You opened the door, revealing your husband leaning against it with those same kicked puppy eyes. So unfair considering he was the one doing all the kicking. You should be the one with the adorable puppy eyes. Fucking unfair that you couldn’t stay mad at him when you looked at them. So, you didn’t, you looked anywhere but his eyes. You wanted to stay mad. You couldn’t back out, especially now that you knew he would never change.

“I really don’t care, James. Stay, go, never come back for all I care” You tied your hair in the best ponytail you could muster to keep you busy “You’re never here and we’re doing just fine without you anyways.”

You knew it hit a nerve and you were too scared to look at just how sad he was, so you grabbed your things and met Liv, who waited patiently on the couch. You truly hoped she hadn’t heard anything. You were, after all, doing this for her. With both your jackets, gloves, and scarves on, Liv waves goodbye to her father, who wished her a good day. When she just smiled and grabbed your hand to lead you out the door, you knew everything would be okay. Even if you weren’t.

You relied solely on muscle memory to drop her off since your head was miles away.

“Why was daddy home today?” she asked when you were nearing the school.

Pondering your choices, you glanced at Liv. Should you tell her or not? Would James keep up his end of the bargain or would you both be disappointed again? The last thing you wanted was for your daughter to be sad. He did promise, though…

“Your dad is going to be working a little less during the holidays.” You decided was good enough “He wants to spend more time with you.”

“Really?” she beamed “Oh, we could go ice skating, make gingerbread cookies, watch the grinch, and put up the tree. It’s going to be so much fun.”

You hoped so, you truly did.

“Why don’t you make a list of things you want to do with us before the holidays end and give it to me after school?”

She nodded profusely, grin never leaving her face, and you couldn’t help but smile along with her. Being a mother wasn’t always easy but seeing that you managed to make your child happy made it all worthwhile.

 “Alright, time to go” you said, putting your car in neutral and handing Liv her lunch “Have fun, be nice, and learn a lot, okay?”

“Okay, mamma.” She blew you a kiss as she left and you drove off to meet with Wanda for your weekly coffee date.

Wanda was an unexpected friendship, one of those who came out of the blue. She had just moved into town with her husband and twins, but the other moms apparently thought she was ‘too weird’ and someone heard rumors she was a witch. You happened to think there was no such thing as too weird and that witched were quite cool. She turned out to be an incredibly sensitive soul and amazing friend. So, their loss.

The sweet aromas of ground coffee bean, vanilla, caramel, and pastries filled your nose as soon as you stepped into Sweet Tooth, the town’s renown bakery. Known for their amazing seasonal beverages, fluffy cakes, litany of focaccia flavors, and Peggy – the owner and best baker this town has seen. It also helped that the place was a cozy little slice of heaven. You could choose a seat by the window and watch the snow fall as the coffee went cold, or maybe you preferred a place on one of the burgundy couches, the mahogany counters were also nice when you were in a hurry. Either way, there was always a place for you, and Wanda had already found yours for the morning.

“Hi.” She waved you over with a smile, scrunching her nose in delight “It’s so good to see you.”

“You have no idea how good it is to see you.” You said, bringing her into a tight hug.

“What’s going on?” she asked, sitting down on the couch.

Should you tell her or was it too personal? Your mother always did say that a couples’ business was only their own. But she was miles away and your marriage was falling apart. You weren’t even sure if you could be considered a couple anymore. Everything was so confusing.

“It’s a long story.” You settled with.

“I’ve got nothing but time.” She smiled warmly, caressing your hand “Besides, the coffee will be here any minute and I ordered some cinnamon rolls to go with it as well as some Parma focaccia. We’re in for a Christmas brunch here.”

You nodded, gathering your thoughts, but nothing came out except for “James and I are getting divorced.”

“What?” She gasped “Oh, sweetie, what did he do? Did he cheat?”

“No.”

“Did he hurt you? Oh, I swear I’ll end him if he did.” She said, rage in her eyes.

“No, nothing like that.” You were sure he never could.

She turned her head to the side “Then, what?”

“Well, it sounds kind of silly now…” you admitted, sudden tears brewing in your eyes.

“(y/n), sweetie,” she held both your hands, scooting closer “nothing that makes you feel bad is ever silly.”

“I just…” you looked at the ceiling trying not to cry “I feel so alone, like there is only one person in this marriage. He’s never home, we barely even talk anymore, he hasn’t touched me in months, and I just feel like… Like maybe he fell out of love with me a long time ago but is too afraid or too stubborn to tell me and end this once and for all. To let us both be free, be happy. So I told him yesterday night that I wanted a divorce.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said that he’d sign the papers after the holidays were over. We’re giving Liv one last Christmas as a family before we have to share her between Christmas, New Years, Easter, birthdays and god knows what else.” Leaning forwards and resting your head between your hands, you wondered what you could have done differently “This is a mess I never wanted.”

“No one ever wants to be divorced,” she stroked your back “But it’s his loss. I know it’s a cliché to say it, but it’s true. You are a remarkable woman. You are smart, kind, incredibly beautiful, and, in the time I have known you, proved to be a beautiful soul with a heart of gold. If he can’t see that, if he doesn’t want you, then he truly is losing the most amazing woman he could have ever asked for. So, his loss.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you hugged her tightly. Wanda held you, hand running up and down your back in an attempt to warm up your soul.

“If there is ever anything I can do to help, you tell me, okay?”

You nodded against her hair, that shined copper in the daylight. “Thank you for being here, for helping me through this.”

“Of course,” she smiled and rubbed your shoulders “that’s what friends are for.”

Wanda walking into your life was a blessing you didn’t know what you did to deserve, but you would be forever grateful for her. Good or bad days, she was always here. Gossips sessions, crying sessions, trauma dumps, – and now divorces – there was no theme she could not cover, no day she couldn’t brighten with a nose scrunch and an open heart.

“I think that’s us” she said before the barista called out her name “Stay put. I’ll be right back, and we’ll start planning a girl’s trip for next year. God knows we both need a rest from men and cleaning up toys.”

Ain’t that the truth. You thought. A girl’s trip to somewhere with no men, the peace of mind that comes with not having to worry about your husband… maybe even a new vibrator. Something with lots of fancy functions that promises the best orgasm of your life. Yeah, you could get used to that. Maybe being single again wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

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divider by @bernardsbendystraws

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[fleurywiththesave]

Starting feeling things about the game tonight, so

Matthew’s been trying so hard to pretend that nothing is wrong. To ignore that they've been talking less and less often in recent weeks, that it's stilted and uncomfortable when they do. That their conversation on his birthday barely lasted five minutes. That he can’t seem to say anything about hockey without pissing Leon off.

That he hasn’t heard from Leon at all in three days.

He tried to call him the night before they left for Edmonton, and he tried to call him right before getting on the plane, and he’s texted more times than he can count. He knows that Leon didn’t disappear off the face of the earth — he’s seen proof of life from the Oilers media. He just doesn’t want to talk to Matthew.

“He’s breaking up with me,” Matthew says glumly at the poker table.

“Or he’s just trying to keep his head in the game,” Benny suggests.

“He could keep his head in the game and still talk to me,” Matthew insists. “He’s breaking up with me and he’s being a wuss about it.”

“Then go talk to him yourself,” Benny says. “You know they’ll have morning skate tomorrow. Go to the rink.”

“That’s…not a terrible idea,” Matthew says slowly.

“I know. I’m brilliant.” And then he wins a hundred of Matthew’s hard-earned dollars. Jackass.

But he’s a jackass who’s right at least some of the time, so Matthew slips out of the hotel the next morning while the rest of the guys are still eating breakfast and calls an Uber to the arena.

It doesn’t occur to him until he gets there that they’re not just going to let him stroll right in, which means he has to swallow his pride and call Connor.

“Uh, hello?”

“I’m outside, come tell the security guard to let me in.”

“You’re outside,” Connor repeats disbelievingly.

“Leon won’t answer any of my messages and if he wants to dump me before this game then he needs to do it to my face, so come let me in.”

There’s a pause before Connor sighs.

“Give me ten minutes.”

He doesn't look too pleased when he shows up, but at least he tells security that Matthew is allowed in.

"I told him you're here," Connor says. "He's waiting for you in one of the trainer rooms." They don't talk at all while he walks Matthew over, which means there's ample opportunity for his anger to turn to fear. This is it. Holy shit, this is it and then he's going to be miserable for the rest of his life. Maybe he should just let Leon ghost him instead of having to look him in the eye and burst into tears while begging him to reconsider.

"Here," Connor says, stopping outside a room. "Don't be idiots, okay?"

Leon is sitting, but he stands up as soon as Matthew opens the door. They both hover where they are, a good six feet apart.

"Hi."

"Hi."

It's a long, painful moment of silence before they both start to speak at the same time.

"I'm sorry I—" "Please don't break up with me!"

"Wait, what?" Leon says.

"Don't break up with me," Matthew repeats, wincing at how pitiful his voice sounds. "Whatever it is I did, just let me fix it. Don't do this."

"I'm not—" Leon scrubs at his face and groans. "I'm not breaking up with you, Matty, good god."

"......You're not?"

"No. I—can we sit?"

Matthew thumps into the chair next to him. He suddenly feels very, very tired.

"I know I've been kind of an ass," Leon says. "There's just been so much attention on this game and I've been stressing about it and...I don't know."

"And you didn't want to talk to me about it," Matthew says.

Leon sighs. "No, I didn't. You're the enemy on the ice right now, Matthew. You told me yourself how pissed off you were the first time you played Vegas after losing to them. Don't you think I feel the same way? I just needed to focus on my play and my team."

Oh.

"I guess I didn't think about it like that," Matthew admits.

"Shocking," Leon says flatly, though there's a brightness in his eyes. "Look, I know I haven't handled it that well — believe me, Connor keeps telling me. I didn't mean to shut you out completely. I just didn't want to get into it. I'm sorry I was an idiot."

"I was an idiot too," Matthew says. "So I'm sorry too. And you—you're not breaking up with me?"

"Of course I am, Matthew. I could handle you winning the Cup against me, I could go to your Cup Day, but this regular game when we're not even halfway through the season is just a bridge too far. I'll send you a box of your stuff."

"Shut the fuck up." Matthew feels about a thousand pounds lighter than he did half an hour ago. Leon grins and leans in, stopping just before kissing him.

"But I'm going to kick your ass up and down the ice tonight."

Matthew smirks and closes the distance.

[incorrectgliyeraba]

"and glinda in gowns, waiting to be good enough to deserve what she gets"

in another life you were my babe / in another life you were the sunshine of my lifetime / what would you trade the pain for? i'm not sure so much (for) stardust // fall out boy // twice the dreams / but half the love / be careful what you bottle up / the chemistry is a mess, it seems / but me i'm still a sunbeam heaven, iowa // fall out boy // i've got all this love i've got to keep to myself / all this effort to make it look effortless flu game // fall out boy // things don't feel the same like they did back then but i, i don't mind / the past don't mean shit to me, shit to me, shit to me... / (now that's a lie) oceans // frank iero // time is luck and i wish ours overlapped more or for longer / orange leaves bore the ones falling off trees / the first time i took the mask off, just had another one on underneath baby annihilation // fall out boy // you are my favorite what if / you are my best i'll never know fourth of july // fall out boy // woke up on the wrong side of p-paradise / and when i say i'm sorry i'm late / i wasn't showing up at all / i really mean i didn't plan on showing up at all / don't you, don't you, don't you know / i hate all my friends, i miss the days when i pretended / i hate all my friends, i miss the days when i pretended with you / i miss the days when i pretended with you, with you wilson (expensive mistakes) // fall out boy // we're the new face of failure / prettier and younger, but not any better off / bulletproof loneliness / at best, at best i'm like a lawyer with the way i'm always trying to get you off (me & you) // fall out boy // ever since we met / i've got just one regret to live through / and i regret never letting you know! nearly witches (ever since we met...) // panic! at the disco // "yeah, it's cool, i'll be okay" / as i felt your pain wash over me / so i dry your eyes and hide my shakes / 'cause i hate the look that's on your face joyriding // frank iero // well you built up a world of magic / because your real life is tragic / yeah you built up a world of magic brick by boring brick // paramore // and then she said she can't believe / genius only comes along / in storms of fabled foreign tongues / tripping eyes, and flooded lungs / northern downpour sends its love northern downpour // panic! at the disco // it's a campaign of distraction / (distraction) / revisionist history, oh! / (and revisionist history) / it's a shame, i don't think that they'll notice / (it's a shame, i don't think that they'll notice) / it's a shame i doubt they even care / (it's a shame, i don't think that they care) / no one is to know about this ghost man on third // taking back sunday // there's blood on my hands / like the blood in you / some things can't be treated / so don't make me, / don't make me be myself around you blood on my hands // the used // if i smile with my teeth / bet you believe me / if i smile with my teeth / i think i believe me fake happy // paramore // and i'm yours 'til the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll away / i'm struggling to exist with you and without you, yeah bishops knife trick // fall out boy

[tseldoesdiscourse]

(We Do Hope None Of This Comes Off As Rude / Disrespecful And Apologies For It's Length, We Began To Rant About Our Experiences As To Try And Better Explain Things T^T) We Get That You Have All Fought So Hard For Safe Spaces Online, But Honestly, So Have The Non-Traumagenic Systems. That Is Due To The Fact That Any Form Of Plurality Is Seen As Wrong And Demonic And Should Be Fixed By Most People Of The World.

Many Of The Anti-Endos We've Come Across Have Been Absolutely Horrible People To Anyone And Everyone Who Doesn't Fit Their Own Personal Definition Of Being A System. They're What Seems Like A Majority Which Causes Others To Think Every Anti-Endo Is A Bad Person.

And We're Assuming From Your Wording That You Don't Actually Know The True Meaning Of Endogenic / Non-Traumagenic. It Is Not Being A System Without Trauma Or Having A CDD Without Trauma.

It's Simply A System That Didn't Form Due To / Because Of Trauma. There Are Many Endogenic / Non-Traumagenic Systems Who Are Traumatized, It's Just Not The Reason Their System Formed.

The Term Endogenic Was Created As An Alternative By A Specific System To Use Rather Than Natural Multiple Or Just Regular Old Multiple. They Created The Term Traumagenic At The Time As Well. They Had Experienced Plurality Since Birth, With Two Originals Instead Of The Usual Failed Integration That Is Normally Seen In Traumagenic CDD Related Plurality. This Article Explains The System's Experiences And How They Came To Coin Endogenic, Traumagenic, And A Couple Other -Genic Terms.

Is It Right That Some Non-Traumagenic / Non-CDD Systems Go Into CDD Spaces Claiming Their Experiences Are The Same? No, It's Not. Are We Similar? In Some Ways, Mainly In The Fact That We Experience Plurality / Multiplicity As Well. Not Normally To The Same Extent Of CDD Systems Though.

And While CDDs Are Usually Traumabased, It Is Possible For Non-Traumagenic Systems To Have One. It's All About The Impairment Factor. The ICD-11 States It Under Every CDD In The "Boundary With Normality (Threshold)" Section Under The Diagnostic Criteria On This Official Site For The ICD-11.

Let's Not Forget That Endogenics And Traumagenics Used To Coexist Under The Multiple And Natural Multiple Labels Going Back All The Way Back To 1990 (According To The Creator Of Endo / Traumagenic Anyway). Not Normally Arguing Over Who Was Or Wasn't Faking. The Terms Eventually Began To Fall Into Disfavor By Those Who Believed The Term "Natural Multiple" Implied That Other Plurals Were Unnatural. Then After The Terms Endogenic And Traumagenic Were Created, Anti-Endos Took The Term And Twisted It's Meaning To Mean DID/OSDD Systems Are The Only "Real / True" Systems, When That's Not The Original Meaning Of The Term.

And When Endogenics Decided To Make Their Own Spaces, You Know What Happened? Antis Invaded Them. A Community On Here We're In Has Been Subjected To Being Posted On r/Systemcringe Twice In The Last 3 Or So Months. Then There's Astrothetherian. An Absolute Dogshit Excuse Of A "Traumagenic Savior". Constantly Harassing People For Simply Existing, Being Sexual, Misgendering, And Other Forms Of Harassment And Awful behavior Have Been Recorded From Him.

Please Don't Claim That Endos Were The Only Shitty Ones When In All Honesty, It Truly Seems Like Antis Started It All For No Reason Other Than Their Feelings Were Hurt Over A Simple Term. (/Nm) The "Majority" Of The Community Is "Pretending" It Never Happened Probably Because They. Don't. Know. We Didn't Know That Non-Traumagenics Were Supposedly "Notoriously" Awful Or Whatever. Which Really Isn't True Today And Probably Wasn't Back Then.. We Hardly See Any Hate Towards Traumagenic Systems From Endos, Rather Coming From Anti-Endos Who Automatically Strip The Traumagenic Origin And / Or CDD Diagnosis From Any Systems That Are Pro-Endo.

Also, Willogenic / Created Systems Do Exist Yes, But Not Usually For Fun. It's Often Due To An Intense Need / Want For Interaction Because Of Loneliness Or A Desire To Have Someone Internally To Help Them. Majority Of Endogenic Systems Did Not Choose To Be Plural, But That Doesn't Mean Those Who Did Are Awful Beings. We Have Tons Of Intentionally And Unintentionally Created Members Ourselves.

Hell Our Primary Co-Host Was Created As A Coping Mechanism For Our Old Host. He Started Out As An Oc That It Roleplayed As In Xaer Fantasies / Fake Scenarios. Then It Turned Into Actual Problems Among Other Things. Ex-Host No Longer Felt As Alone Anymore For A Reason Xey Couldn't Quite Pinpoint. Phantom Sensations Of Horns, Tails, And Wings Were Felt Constantly And So Vividly. Void Would Be "Taken Over" By Our Co-Host And Would Begin To Act Like Him And Started To Lose More And More Time. It Chalked It Down To His Declining Mental Health And A Vivid Imagination. Oh Boy How Pog Was Wrong.

We're Mixed Origins, Like We Mentioned In The Beginning, With A Heavy Amount Of Endogenic Alters. However, We're Chronically Dissociated And Hardly Know Who We Are At Any Given Moment. We Have Severe Memory Loss That Gets Us In Trouble And Other Symptoms Of CDDs. Our Endogenic Origins Don't Make Us Any Less Of A DID System. Our Trauma Could Hardly Be Called Immense In Our Opinion. We Weren't Even Abused (As Far As We Know), Just The Sheer Witnessing Of Our Parents Relationship Crashing And Burning Since Birth Was Enough To Stop The Integration Process. We Think We Lived Fine In Our Few Memories That We Have, All Up Until The Day Our Parents Divorced. That Sparked A Wave A Trauma We Weren't Ready For To Come Down On Us. Divorce Is Traumatic, A Very Common Cause Of Trauma In Children Actually. That Comes From Our Therapists Who Specializes In Patients With Trauma.

While We Formed From Trauma, Most Of Us Didn't. The Vast Majority Of Us Did Not. Hyperfixations And Interests Are Assholes To Us Due To The Fact That We "Absorb" Fictives Like A Sponge. Half Of Them Front Like Once To Log Their Info Then Fuck Off Somewhere In The Innerworld Never To Be Talked To Again Unless Yanked To Front By Someone Accidentally. Fragments Upon Fragments. Latching Onto Images Or Drawings Of People And Creatures, Floating Around Until We Yank Them To Co-Front To Try And "Fill" Them Out. Help Them Find A Sense Of Identity.

I Think The Point Was To Make It Known How Diverse Plurality Is And How There's No One Way To Experience Being A System? I Don't Know, The Rant Jumbled The Brain And Now There's Soup (Several People In Front And Don't Know Who Anyone Else Is Besides Me And The Primary Co-Host).

Anyway, Thanks For Reading All Our Word Salad.

If You Have Any Questions Let Us Know Because We're Tired And English Is Hard Right Now So If We Made Any Mistakes Or Worded Anything Weird We'd Be Happy To Explain.

Have A Good Timezone.

Keep seeing posts of pro-endos who used to be anti-endo talking about "Ugh, anti-endo spaces are so toxic" which is not necessarily bad, there are bad anti-endo spaces out there and people are allowed to vent about how those spaces hurt them

I do have a problem when they use that as an excuse to call us all toxic and cruel. I've seen many saying things like "Anti endos are so horrible, I'm so glad I'm not one of those monsters anymore"

You need to understand we aren't the monsters you make us out to be. We're traumatized people, trying our hardest to survive with something debilitating, who can't help but see endos as mocking, whether they truly are or not. We can't help but see endos as invading our spaces.

We didn't get to have safe spaces most of the time. We didn't get to be around people who cared about us and understood us. Even those of us that did have a safe space had it poisoned by trauma elsewhere. We spent our childhoods afraid, isolated, and so agonizingly alone, feeling like we were better off dead, that we were freaks, that we were the only ones in the world going through this. This community we made for ourselves was one we had to fight through years of hell to get.

So when random people come over trying to insist that they're "just like us" and demanding to be let in, despite having only one or two things in common that we couldn't even trust they truly had, of course we'll be fucking defensive. In our eyes, you're trying to take the safe spaces we fought tooth and nail for away from us, whether you truly are or not. In our eyes you're people who know nothing about us or what we went through, and continue to go through, trying to barge into our havens and bloat it with bullshit, whether that's what you're trying to do or not.

We've been hurt so many times, by so many people, for so long. Why the fuck would we take a chance on people that are so suspect? You claim to have alters just like us, yet without any of the other symptoms of our disorders. You claim to be systems, yet without being caused by the immense trauma we had to suffer through. Hell, some of you claim that you made your alters for fun, just because you can.

Of course we're wary and defensive. We don't want to even risk losing the spaces we worked so damn hard to get.

If you've had a bad experience with anti-endo spaces, and are pro-endo now because of it, that's fine by me and I understand completely. But that doesn't make us all villians. That doesn't make us all evil monsters.

And besides, many of us have been hurt by pro-endo/mixed origin spaces too. We've seen people have horrible experiences with them. (Let's not forget endos started as natural multiples, who were notoriously shitty, cruel, and discriminatory toward any and all traumagens, and that a lot of that same rhetoric is still rampant in the community, AND that the community at large has basically just decided to pretend that never happened.

-Kaz

[goodluckclove]

Snapshots from Adolescence

I'm not even waiting for that poll I posted to finish because I remembered like half my audience are teens and I can take this opportunity to prove my credibility as an Adult Weird Kid.

So I grew up in San Jose, California. Specifically like south side, right by the hills. I think I was middle class? I honestly can't tell. My dad was a civil servant with a six-figure salary but my parents were terrible with money to the degree that when Riley found my dad's salary online I was shocked. I had a bike and a weekly allowance of like 25 bucks that I made cooking dinner for my older siblings during the week. I am also learning I had a pretty loose leash - a choke-hold in terms of emotional abuse, but in terms of being allowed to go places alone it was essentially non-existent.

I spent a lot of time alone. That was fine. I still think it's super important for any person to be able to be comfortable with their own company and actually be able to have fun by themselves. I'm still totally psyched to go out to a restaurant or a movie by myself, which is something other people I know seem to hesitate to try.

In middle school, though, I would pretty much spend all day biking around the weird business neighborhoods by my house. I would tell my mom I was leaving (She wouldn't ask where I was going or when I would be back) and I would usually bike to one of a handful of places:

a large field on the side of a busy road where the wheat was tall enough to hide in

a parking lot near the transit station where someone ditched an exercise bike and a broken dishwasher

a separate, adjacent lot where i would sit in a shopping cart and stare at the nearby overpass

These were all crazy sketchy places for a young kid to be in alone. Obviously that didn't occur to me at the time. I would listen to music - usually DEVO, I think. DEVO or like Pink Floyd. Maybe Bauhaus. I would also make a stop at the liquor store on the corner for Pringles and soda, or to the Nob Hill for fresh fruit. I would snack on my snacks, loiter shamelessly, and vibe out to music for like eight hours. My mom knew about the field and was like flaccidly resigned to me spending so much time there, but didn't actually stop me from doing it until I lost my school backpack in the sea of wheat and it was gone forever.

I got considerably more classy once I was like 13 and started high school. After that I started taking the light rail downtown. Parents were slightly more restrictive about this, making sure I knew not to wander around. At first I would only go the San Jose State University Library (which kicks ass and is eight stories tall), or the art museum, or this bakery Bijans that sold fancy little cakes. After a year or so like that their restrictions were dropped completely and I was just free to bike the city at will. Once again - cool at the time, in retrospect pretty insane to me.

It was cool, though. I spent a lot of time at Caffe Frascati, this Italian cafe that unfortunately doesn't exist anymore. I'd also stop at Cafe Stritch, a sort of bar/lounge venue that sold the best fries I've ever had in my life. Also great live music. But holy shit great fries.

By that point I was also spending a lot of time in hotel bars. I was maybe 16-17. I'd sit right at the bar and order a virgin mojito. I have to imagine I was able to do this with virtually no one ever giving me guff mainly because I looked a lot older than I actually was. I have theory that there's also a grey area in a hotel bar versus an actual bar where right out the gate they'd ask for a card. And I'm sure it helped that I never asked for actual liquor. Once a server accidentally mixed me a real mojito and I took one drink and immediately sent it back.

Putting this all down in writing sounds both quirky as fuck and also totally dull. Because while I realized early on that the average 16 year old was not getting a mocktail alone at a while enjoying a jazz quartet at the AC Lounge, I also never considered it a huge brag because in a real sense I was just sitting and listening to music. The alternative would be being at home and watching movies I guess.

Pretty much all I would do when I'd go downtown as a Hip Teen was write for like five hours for whatever novel I was working on before going to get lunch or a Little Treat (Usually CREAM, or the ice cream place at San Pedro Square Market). If anyone is ever in Downtown San Jose for some reason I still have a ton of recommendations.

I also have things I wouldn't recommend, such as the amount of time I spent biking the Guadalupe River trail through the city. Not a safe area at all. i would also literally wade in the river sometimes which - Jesus. In the current day I can't tell if it's more of a shock that I never got kidnapped, or avoided stepping on a needle or broken bottle.

I think by the time I was a Senior in high school I would sometimes lug my typewriter downtown and sell poetry for strangers. I charged like three bucks a poem. Sometimes people would pay in coffee or, for the employees of the movie theater I sat in front of, a huge bag of popcorn. I think I made like 70 bucks in a day once. Use part of it to buy dinner for my friend at our favorite Chinese place. The waitresses were really nice and once gave me a double serving of egg rolls for free.

By then I had my first job - Exhibit's Specialist at the Children's Discovery Museum. I think 17-18 was around the time I started taking the train to San Francisco to stay in one of their hostels for the weekend. I stayed at a few around that time. My favorite is probably the Adelaide Hostel.

I have a lot of mixed feelings about recounting all this. It sounds like a younger person might look at this and find it cool, maybe consider it a point of envy. But I've apparently developed into a perceptive and empathetic adult, because when I imagine a person that young doing all of that the first thing I think is wow - you really don't want to spend time in your own home, do you?

So it goes, I guess. It turned out essentially okay.

[twopercentboy]

I'm a firm believer that Edwin does NOT have internalized homophobia ☝️ repressed his sexuality? sure, obviously. but internalized hatred for himself? NO!!!

My man immediately confessed his love to Charles once he realized what his feelings were. He was going to even earlier but literally got dragged to Hell in the middle of it !!! He did not question the validity of his feelings and he definitely didn't question whether he was allowed to feel them !!!

Edwin has a lot of complexities when it comes to dealing with and acknowledging his emotions, but this is not one of them. Charles is not one of them.

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

i have several drafts from back in january comparing some of my old man yaoi ™️ ships which i decided against posting at the time because, quite frankly, they were thoughts no one would appreciate but me. two of the ships i know have some overlap, but the third didn't fit. a different genre. too niche.

but, with a new deadpool movie out and other ppl seeing the buggy parallels, i might as well get this off my chest:

shuggy is cablepool.

(not movieverse cablepool, to be clear. (i enjoy movieverse cable but he is not my mutant messiah.) comics cablepool.)

the dynamic is eerily similar:

we have an occasionally slapstick murderclown with obvious issues about the unusual way he looks, who presents himself as only having selfish motives but is (sometimes) lying about that, is very hard to kill, is disliked by ppl who have to work with him and popular with and beloved by ppl who don't both in-universe and out!

and his ex-bestie, a massively overpowered would-be martyr who is missing a flesh arm, has three scars over one eye, whose continued fondness for the murderclown post-breakup baffles everyone around him (murderclown included), and who refuses to elaborate on his motives for doing shady shit (including manipulating our beloved murderclown) except that he's doing everything for the sake of the future

like. tell me that's not them.