#this is the closest to femme i have dressed in a while (and its still not rlly femme lmao)

[fatcowboys]

[id: two selfies of Blue, a fat white nonbinary person. They have a curly mullet with the sides pulled back and wear glasses. They have clear hoop earrings and wear a black polo crop top. the neckline of the shirt reveals a fresh tattoo, linework of a hand with wind blowing around it on the center of their chest. this selfie si from the chest up and they smile slightly at the camera. second photo is blue in the same outfit. this photo is from the waist up and they wear green pants and stand, head tilited, looking at the camera. end id.]

got a new tattoo this weekend and i look hot as hell

[a-libra-writes]

Hello....can you write a romantic headcanon for Dominic from Lackadaisy?(⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

yesss. we dont have a lot of appearances from Mister Drago in the comic buuuut i feel we get a good idea of his personality! Still, a lot of this just ideas and extrapolations of mine.

GN reader primarily, with some specific femme and masc options.

A few Femme HCs~

Dominic's a classic gentleman - wanting to have your arm in his, opening doors and moving chairs for you, even helping you over puddles (though that one is more to tease you). He's smooth about it all, not expecting a big fanfare or thanks. It's just what he was raised to do for ladies.

You have absolutely met his parents down in Texas, and they just adore you. They're often calling to check in, asking you to make Dom call or write more, and roping you into holiday plans. I like to think they own a nice ranch outside Austin, and have a townhouse in the city proper.

If you two are married, he has a lovely framed photograph of you in your wedding dress. He keeps the larger portrait on his nightstand, and a smaller one on his desk at work. He secretly likes it when the other agents notice and comment on what a lucky fella he is.

A few Masc HCs~

Unlike most men who approach you with an understanding, Dominic has a charm and a quiet confidence. There's little to no insecurity; he's clearly comfortable in who he is. With a masc partner he's much less "chivalrous" - i.e. he doesn't treat them like some high society lady - instead showing his affection through caring gestures and being a little protective.

Though he may not look it, Dom is aware of the underground queer club scenes and their lingo. He's humorously out of place there, dressed sharp and relaxing off in a corner rather than drinking or dancing. Because of his job, he has to be very careful about which establishments he chooses - so rather than full-blown speakeasies, they're theater houses and little local bohemian retreats where wine is the strongest drink. It's still not totally his scene, but he can relax around the people and not feel so guarded. He'll also do his best to redirect police raids away from these little establishments, especially if you and your friends frequent one of them.

There's a good chance he still has the wife and kids back home, and while he does care for them at a distance, its his job that gets most of his time - and by the time you come around, well. They're lucky to get what few calls and letters they do. It's also likely he never married to begin with, though his parents won't stop hounding him about it.

Unbeknownst to you, Dom keeps a candid photo of you that one of your friends gave him. It's tucked away in his nightstand and he likes to say goodnight to it; a sentimental little ritual he wouldn't easily admit to.

General ones!

A more level-headed person, probably about his age or just a little younger, is who he'll vibe with best. I can see him being appreciative of a more creative spirit, and while he'll greatly admire someone dedicated to their career -- well, two workaholics means you both will barely see each other. A partner whose connected to crime is a no-go - closest he might get is a musician or singer for a club.

Getting a date night can be tough! Dom is a bit married to his work, which he's aware of. Starting a relationship troubles him only because he worries he won't be present enough. He'll bring papers home and often works late, but this means when there's a date, he goes out of his way to be attentive and do things you'd like.

Also, he appreciates the small things! A cup of tea in the evening, saving some dinner for him, having coffee ready in the morning, dropping off lunch at his work, and so on. He thanks you every time. He's also very soft for you lighting his pipe and sharing a smoke outside (or just chatting beside him if you don't smoke yourself).

You never have to guess his feelings, because Dom is honest with them. There's the 'I love you', sure, but there's also all the appreciation and praise and compliments, always said in that steady, deep voice of his. It can get flustering if you aren't used to it! He'll really lean into the southern accent if you like it, too. But that's just between you two.

(Also, the accent comes out when he's still sleepy, especially before coffee.)

Honestly, it's a crime how smooth he is. When you first started to know him, you weren't sure if he was aware of it - but oh, you're sure now. He looks you in the eyes, whispers to you, gives kisses that are confident and touches that are firm but never hard. It's actually unfair, the man is way too good at figuring out what gets you heated the fastest. He's actually worse about the teasing and touches if you're easily embarrassed, but he'll never go over a boundary you set, and he's more careful in public.

You can get him back if the date is at the theater or the movies - because it's dark, and he's usually overworked, it's not uncommon for Dom to drift off even if there's an opera tenor on stage or a woman screaming in the picture show. He feels so awful for it! But now it's your turn to tease him.

Dom loves it when you wear the nice things he bought you, or use the practical things. He's obviously pleased when he notices. Dom is excellent at giving gifts, as he observes the things you admire and things you already wear or own, and goes off that. He doesn't need a special occasion, either - something in a shop window catches his attention and he steps right in to buy it. He's a practical man himself, buuut he likes both good-quality things and spoiling you.

If he's pulling long hours on a big case, he tries to tell you ahead of time. Dominic doesn't like having to do that; he doesn't want you feeling disappointed or lonely - and though he won't show it, sometimes the loneliness gets at him, too. If you're more femme presenting, he likes to have a photograph or ribbon of your's in his pocket, something to lift his spirits when he's burning midnight oil. If you're masc, he actually likes to wear your cufflinks or one of your ties.

On that note, if you two are the same clothing size - a bit of a rarity for him - Dom absolutely likes to "accidentally" take your shirts and wear them instead. He waits to see how long it takes for you to notice, because he always has them cleaned and put back nicely afterward. It's a surprisingly playful side of him, but honestly ... if you're smaller, he likes you wearing his shirts too, and little else. It's something he's not embarrassed to say.

Overall he's a wonderfully considerate and reliable partner - you just have to know his work often comes first, especially once he starts investigating in St. Louis.

[fadedneonzzz]

Ranking My Favorite Cinder outfits

Cinder has so many outfits, all of which are amazing and I’m going to rank them.

V7-Now

I just love everything about it, it’s the perfect Cinder outfit in my opinion and I still feel we were robbed from her concept art version where she had red in her cape

If she wore this for the rest of the series I’d be fine with it.

2. Beacon Arc (V1-V3)

By far her most iconic outfit, it has a nice femme fatale look to it which I like

Even if it looks impractical to fight in, you can never go wrong with great style.

3. Vytal Festival Outfit

I really like the desert bandit design, and it’s probably the closest we’ll get to a casual Cinder design. I really hope they have a call back to this outfit during the Vacuo arc. Also you can’t tell me Coco didn’t try to hit it during the Vytal Festival

4. V3 Flashback Outfit

I like how it’s a precursor to not only her Beacon Arc outfit, but her short hair that she goes with V4 onwards. It’s pretty nice all things considered.

5. Mistral Arc Outfit (V4-V5)

Though this is one of my least favorite, I really do like the symbolism behind it.

Thematically it’s the polar opposite to her current outfit, she seems to cover herself up this time. While it is generally appealing like many of Cinder’s outfits, it seems to have a certain degree of shame to it. Despite the beautiful and ornate dress, it’s designed in a way to hide her injuries and deformities. It just lacks the coolness factor of the previous ones, but I appreciate it for its own merits.

Now I turn it to everyone else who wants to participate, what’s your favorite Cinder outfits? Do you agree with my rankings? I’d love to see yours.

[bestnoncannonship]

I'm drowning in the gender sandbox guys.

I am agender. At least....I think I am. It's the closest to what I'm feeling. In that I really do not have an attachment to any gender and cannot conceive how people identify with a gender. Like....they just FEEL a gender? All the time? No matter what they look like and what they're wearing they FEEL a gender?? Whaaaa??? Sounds hella fake but okay.

And now I'm gonna talk about that and my experience for a while, in a series of ways that's probably gonna get the gender and sexuality neo-puritans to come yell at me for not being ritually pure enough in the way I talk but.....I'm talking from my own brain, baby. This is the toolkit I'm packing right now and the world I live in and I just need to spit it out. Maybe see if it resonates with people who know more than me. I don't know. Help.

I didn't question being a woman for the longest time. I grew up in a rural area culturally dominated by "Christians" (Not Catholics. I was Catholic. That comes with a whole different set of religious traumas pre-installed. I mean the ScAaRy protestent and nondenom Christians.) You didn't question anything. Not an adults orders. Not authority. Certainly not straightness. Gender was biological. I'd never heard of a trans person. There were rumors of Gays™. For most of my life it was just "Gender is the meat suit you got stuck with, right? I got stuck with this meat suit so it's my gender, I guess." And when I finally left the middle-o-nowhere for Le Citè and I met some (mostly bianary) trans people I was like "OH! OKAY!! Having strong feelings about being in the wrong meat suit can make a gender!" And the non bianaries that I met were still playing on that bianary scale. The "bit of boths" and the "different genders for different days" varieties. They has strange attachments to genders. And the whole retoric of "Questioning your gender and feeling things about you gender is the indicator that you might be trans!!" Just furthered my feeling that I must just be female by default cause like.....I didn't question anything. I didn't think about gender. I had a COMPLETE lack of feelings about gender whatsoever and that was normal, right?? Just meat suit gender. I certainly didn't have a strong feeling about wanting to be the opposite: *gag* a man?? A straight white man? Nope! I have no desire to be a bianary man and frankly I find 99 percent of men and male culture traumatic. So I must just be meat-suit gender.

And yes, I wanted to scrape my breasts and hips and thighs off with a cheese grater. But I wrote that off as a symptom of having started putting a finger down my throat after meals when I was 6 and having a family that forced hour upon hour exercise with their thighs and tummies wrapped in saran wrap and sang "I don't love her! She's too fat for me!" to a literal toddler and put that same toddler in oversized clothes to hide the healthy baby squish that toddlers HAVE. OF COURSE I wanted to die when my breasts grew in and my hips and thighs filled out. They were evil fat deposits. And they meant nothing but unwanted attention from yucky men. (Lesbianism to be discovered some 15 years later. My comphets we're almost as bad as my compgenders.) It had nothing to do with gender. Gender is just the meat suit ....and I already hated the meat suit by the time I had breast buds, they just enhanced a disgust that I thought was normal by then. Everyone kind of hates their meat suit, right?? Yes I wanted to look like men sometimes.....but they were skinny heroin chic men. I also wanted to look like kate moss. I wanted to look like a sideways door but my family is Italian and we have hips and thighs. It's just the meat suit I was assigned. Just have to learn to deal with it and dress it in the way that it looks most socially acceptable and get on with life. And my meat suit had a very gendered look, even in the deepest throws of my illness. "All woman." "The curves of a real woman." So that was just the hand I was dealt. Like having a hard to match foundation undertone. You don't gotta like it, it's just reality. Yes, I wanted to wear nothing but waistcoats and gay vampire clothes but they weren't cut for my body type so *shrug*.

Did I start to have way too much fun cosplaying and embodying male characters? Yes. But that was just identifying with characters. I'd always identified with characters. Did I still distinctly identify with the character's gender, even when I femmed the costume to avoid the hellish pain of binding? Yes. Did it make me feel weird when people referred to my Thor as a woman, even though it was technically a femme? Yes. But that was just feminism. Heroes don't need to be called girl heroes. No gender issues here!! Besides it's not weird in fandom circles to stongly identify with people across gender lines. The fact that I found the gendernope option if there was one available in the fandom and *attached* was surely just coincidental. Right??

Did I absolutely loose my mcfreaking mind when the gyno started talking about having to take my uterus away because the amount of blood it was loosing was doing irreparable harm to my body? Yes. My gender is my meat suit. When you take it away....what am I???? A *gag* man??? Nothing at all?? Am I still even human?? If I am not *gag* male and you take away the female part of the meat suit am I an aphid? A plant? A chair? But I was comforted by a chorus of voices saying "No!! You're a WOMAN. Infertility doesn't make you not a woman! You still have a woman's body!! Because you're a woman!!! Just look at you in your skirts and with your long hair!! You're a woman!!!" So.....still a woman, I guess. Because I still LOOKED like one. Gender = the PRESENTATION of the meat suit. That made sense. The structure of my meat suit made me limited to woman-presentation. So I was woman.

Then, it was the stupidest thing, I was talking to the other half of my life on the 4/5 train on the way to a friend's house about HER issues with gender presentation and the amount of attention to detail it takes to be socially acceptable as female and she said "You just know you're a girl. Like if they just picked you up and put you in a robot body you'd be a girl?" And I was like "......no? I'd be a robot?????" "But you'd still feel like a girl???" "No.....I'd feel like a ROBOT." "BUT you'd still like hear she/her and identify with those???" "No. I'd probably identify more with It/it's because that's what I'd be. A ROBOT!" And she's like "But what if your brain got transplanted into a boy body???" "Then I'd be a boy." "But what would you feel like?" "A BOY?" "Okay but what if you had a very neutral body with like no genitals? What would you feel like then??" "I mean....then it would depend on how I'm dressed. I'd feel like what I was dressed like." And we went around like this till she surmised that my entire relationship to gender was basically "You are what you look like." Which is apparently NOT how people relate to their own gender. They "feel" it somehow?? (I genuinely thought "FEELING" like a gender was what made trans people.) I feel nothing. I identify with a lot of things and ZERO of them are a gender. I thought that was normal. I thought that was the default. Apparently it's not. And then if you ask me what I want to be.....I can't answer. I really don't want to be a gender. I guess I want to be able to put different genders on at my will, like outfits, for societal convenience. But I don't "identify" with any of them. Hell, I have sweaters I identify with more than any particular gender. But there aren't really systems in place for describing and portraying that.

Gender.exe was not installed.

I did a lot of research. Agender felt closest. I actually felt closest to a Good Omens meme about Aziraphale describing his gender as "No, thank you!" That's what I feel like. But all the agender folks were vibing that moment. So I joined 'em. I am aware that puts me under the trans umbrella, but I don't really identify with that word. I don't feel like there's any transition. Any changing. Can't change what was never there. Also I feel like it's for people who....CAN present as their gender. I would be seen as an invader in those spaces. Its not bad enough to justify being in those spaces. I can live with being gendered. I just don't have one.

In the society we live in one cannot present as "not a gender". Someone with MY body definitely cannot present as "not a gender". The clothes that they make in size "giant human with planet tits" are agressively gendered. And even in a binder.....they're still REALLY there. (Yes, a reduction is desirable but I don't have reduction money.....and you can't reduce the fact that I'm the bowl shaped robust extreme female hipbone they use in Forensic Anthropology textbooks.) It is what it is. My body will always be perceived the way it's perceived. And frankly a lot of what we perceive as genderless is just "skinny body in masc style with short hair and makeup". That's not really want I want. I don't want to cut off my hair. It's my one really good feature and I've worked hard to grow out these Valkyrie worthy lengths. Mens clothes are so limiting. And there are no gender: no thank you clothes. (One well meaning friend kept trying to send me "genderless" clothes......but it was all rail thin afabs in mens clothes with short hair and heavy makeup. That's not looking genderless. That's just being skinny.) Gender no thank you presentation is very tied to short hair and thin bodies. So I've accepted that I don't get to play in the gender sandbox outside of the privacy of my own mind. It's a societal flaw. But whatever.

But pronouns are starting to really bother me. Everyone is so into them and identifying with them. And like.....I don't get it. I don't get the joy. I don't think I've found the one. Like.....I'm used to she. I will always be read as she. I will always be Miss and Ma'am in stores and restraunts. So I just kind of roll with it. I don't hate it. I don't like it. It's just a thing that I have to have to exist in society. Like a social security number. I actually think I identify with my social security number more. There's no point in making myself uncomfortable with something that's just going to be a part of my life. And I don't want to be the kind of person who expects people to address me by a pronoun they can't see and aren't used to. It's too much to ask of the average citizen of a gendered society to go through that much gender theory for just me. So "she" is an inevitable part of my life. And He....well ......I don't hate it. I dont like it. It's just there. I certainly don't get called it. And I'm not capable of presenting it well enough for this to be relevant. Now they......fuck I HATE they. I hate that it's the acceptable pronoun for anyone not bianary male or female. It just rubs me the wrong way. When people refer to me as they, I feel like they're referring to me and the host of mental illnesses I carry around and you don't have permission to address those troops thank you very much. They causes a genuine squick. But it's kinda the only widely acceptable option. I kinda like "it". I VIBE with it. It feels good. Unfortunately the people in my life have a certain reluctance about calling me it as they believe that happy vibe around a traditionally dehumanizing pronoun may be a trauma symptom. They might be right so I'm tabling "it" till I find a good therapist. Also...I cannot ask strangers to call me it. I don't have the confidence it takes to explain why and I frankly don't want to be faced with the criticism and questions I would face because I am unable to make my body be perceived as Nonbinary. I don't have the confidence or conviction to face that every day forever. Ditto neopronouns. I also haven't found one that I vibe with at all yet.

And queer labels get harder when you pull away from gender entirely. Like ... I am a Lesbian. I am solely attracted to women. But now I'm getting a lot of "You can't be a lesbian if you don't have a gender!!!" And like ...can I??? I like being a lesbian. It feels right. It conveys what I want it to convey. I like the exclusion of men entirely, after being taught to structure my life around men. I have a kinship with womanhood. It's where I was raised. It's how people see me. I just don't identify with it. It's not how I see myself. I guess that can kind of exclude me from the label? All of our terms are defined by being attracted to "your own gender" or "the opposite gender" or "both your own gender and other genders" and like ... I don't have a gender. And the opposite of nothing is....?? Fuck if I know? So what term am I allowed to use? I love queer for exactly this reason. But it just doesn't have the same clarity that lesbian does.

So I'm just kind of in a hole rn. Grappling with the fact that I really don't have a gender in a gendered world, and dealing with the fact that so much of our understanding and acceptance of gender is about presentation, a door closed to my body. I don't have the confidence or the spoons or the knowledge or the experience to fight this fight. The path of least resistance is sticking my head back into the sand and going with straightforward womanhood....but now it feels like I'm lying. I feel like an intruder in woman's spaces. And I can't go in men's spaces, they see me as....well...a woman. Lesser.

Someone out there who's better at the genders please help.

[demivampirew]

So we meet again - part 2

Henry x Reader

Summary: A recent graduate recounters someone from her past with who things did not exactly ended up in great terms. She holds a grudge on him for that and still has unanswered questions about what happened.

This will have another part soon.

You can find part 1 in the Masterlist

Triggers: crying; cursing and drinking.

- Look who decided to re-joined human society! Have you finally broken your relationship with your boyfriend? - greeted you, Mark, as you approach the bar. - What boyfriend? -you asked confused - Book. - he joked and you rolled your eyes and grinned - Nope. I'm still working on it. But fortunately, everything is going great. I have a lot of material to cover yet, though. I'm just here because I needed a drink and some human interaction as well.- you replied winking. - My friend asked me to come and meet her here. She met a guy in this pub and wanted to introduce us. - Has cupid brought another couple together? - he questioned as he gave you a cold Guinness - Apparently. I mean, I'm the reason she's allowed to drink here, so I guess I play a part in their love story. - you smiled. - Which one of your friends is? The cute blonde one or the brunette? - The blonde one. The other one is Emma, the doctor. - Oh, so it's the college girl. The one that brags about being friends with you. -he added laughing. -Does she? - you were amused by that fact - Are you kidding? She always brings your name when she orders something. It seems that she wants everyone to know that she's friends with a graduate and the pub's owner's niece. That makes her feel exclusive. - he pointed out and you both laugh and then you started to drink your cold beer. - So, tell me, when is cupid going to get her piece of cake? - Nah, I don't care about relationships, at least not at the moment. I'm focusing on my book and later to seek for a job teaching in a university. Besides, with my luck, he's going to be either a liar or a cheater. - Isn't that the same thing? - Well, yeah... - you sighed.- I'm the worst at dating. - Maybe if you let me I could introduce you to someone. - You just want to steal my job as cupid. - you joked. - No, I'm fine, but thanks. - You let me know if you change your mind. And, here comes blondie. - he said pointing out with his head towards the entrance of the place. You turned around and saw your friend approach you, with a huge smile on her face. Y/N! - she exclaimed excited- I haven't seen you in months! I missed you so much! - she said as she hugged you. - Hi Tara. You look gorgeous! - you saluted her. It wasn't a lie, she always looked beautiful. She was younger than you; she was a junior in college and you were a senior. You met her when tutoring for a class that she needed to pass and then you became good friends. Even though she was a few years younger, she was mature for her age and she was one of the girls everyone turned around to look at. You, on the other hand, were pretty - like the girl next door kind of- but definitely not a femme fatale. She was the one who would wear dresses, skirts and whatever was trending at the moment, while you were the girl who loved jeans, leggings and t-shirts or plaid shirts. - I've been working on the book, as I told you when we chatted before; that's why I haven't had much time to get out and party. - It's great that now you can finally work on your book. You have been planning that since I met you. - Since before that, actually. - you said smiling - That makes me even happier! You deserved to do what you love and what you're amazing at it. - she assured you. - So, you wanted to introduce me to someone.- you reminded her, raising an eyebrow.- Where is he? - He was answering a phone call outside, he'll be here in a minute.- she explained. She started talking about how they met right in that place about a month ago, and how sweet and wonderful he was and more great things. Then you hear a deep male voice calling her name. A voice that you'd have to recognize everywhere. And you felt a lump forming in your throat and felt dizzy for a moment. Your luck was getting worse day by day. - Baby, come! - Tara invited him to join us. You could see in his face that he did not expect to see you either. - Let me introduce you to my friend, y/n. - she told him as she grabbed his arm and the looked back at you- Y/n, this is my boyfriend, Henry. - her smile couldn't be bigger. She was beyond happy. You, on the other hand, were dying inside. You wanted to run far away. What were you supposed to say? Should you mention to her that you knew him and why you did it? Has he ever talked about his past feelings for you with her? Probably not by name, but were you important enough for him to mention you as part of his past? Your brain was about to explode of how fast was working and that made you even dizzier. You gulped and try to speak when he interrupted you. - Hi, y/n, nice to meet you.- he said smiling and your world crashed into pieces. He pretended that he didn't know you. He probably had not to desire for her to know about your past friendship and the reason why it ended. You shook his hand without saying a word, just nodding. - I have to be honest, I did not only asked you to see you introduce you to him.- she said and looked at him excited- I asked to see you because,  as a thank you for being the reason why we met, we wanted to invite you to a yacht trip in the Caribbean. You don't have to worry about money, its all taken care by this amazing guy. - she explained as she put her arms around him and smiling at him. On one hand, you were so happy to see her like that. On the other hand, you felt like if someone just dug a hand in your body and grabbed your heart and was trying to ripped it off. How was it possible that you had such crappy luck? Why did he continue to go to that pub? There were plenty of places in London where he could've gone, but no, he went to your uncle's pub. And also, there were tons of beautiful women out there, why did he have to meet her?- So what do you say? Would you join us? You have been working so hard, you deserve to have a break and enjoy yourself for a moment.- she prompted, smiling. - I'm sorry, I need to get this. - you said after taking your phone from your pocket and pretending to answer a call. You went to the back of the place and locked yourself in your godfather's office. You were out of breath. You pressed your back against the door and slide it until you were sitting on the floor, grabbing your knees with your arms and hiding your face in your thighs as you started to cry. Seeing him a few months ago made you realize that you still had feelings for him and that was the reason why it hurt you so bad the fact that he cut you out of his life without explanation. You thought about him constantly. And now you saw him again, happily in love with your friend, pretending you were a stranger to him. "Fuck my life," you thought. You decided to text her and excused yourself for going out again, explaining that your uncle asked you to do a work in his office that would take you so time. Tara said that was ok and she insisted on you thinking about the trip and to let her know your answer as soon as possible. A few moments later, you heard a knock on the door. You cleaned your face, you did not want your uncle or Mark to see you cry. You opened the door and saw Henry standing outside. He asked you for permission to get in and you allowed him to enter the room. After he closed the door to make sure no one heard you two talk, he turned around to face you and apologized. - I had no idea she was your friend. She said that a friend that worked there allowed her to hang here and I thought she meant Charlotte or Felicity - the other bartender that cover shifts when Mark and Charlotte couldn't go. If I'd have known she was your friend, I would have not asked her out.- he assured you. - Why did you still hang out here?- you said angrily - You know that I hang here. This is like a second home to me. Why do you still come here?! You have an entire freaking city to go for a drink, why did you have to come here?! - Because I was expecting to see you. - he admitted.- After our last encounter, I felt so bad that all I wanted to do was to apologize to you for everything, but I did not have your number. So I came here every chance I had, expecting to see you and then, one day, I met Tara and we started to see each other. - Well, good for you - you sarcastically said.- You might feel good about lying, but I don't. I'm not going on that trip, obviously, and I want her to know why. So will you tell her or should I do it? - you told him firmly and he sighed. He decided to tell her the truth about what happened between you two. The next day you received a message from Tara in which she apologized for having to cut her friendship with you. She appreciated you deeply, according to her words, but she simply could not be friends with someone that had a history with her boyfriend and she could not leave Henry. She insisted on the fact that she was truly sorry about it and that she felt terrible for having to make that choice. If you were mad at Henry before that, now you straight hated him. He did not just take himself away from you, but now he took other of your closest friends as well.

[nish-with-no-niche]

When No One's Around...

Chartered accountant!Jaebeom x Software engineer!Reader

Summary :

Ever wonder how much alcohol tolerance can Jaebeom have for you? Read till the end to find out ;)

Warning :

1) This chapter.....is a long ass ride.

2) I know some people prefer using their name, but I only realised it later that instead of (Y/N) I accidentally gave reader-nim a name, i.e, Yeseul. So kindly bear with me as it's my first time writing a 2nd person perspective and just imagine your own name in its place. Thankyou and.....enjoy!

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You finally had finished your board meeting and were heading out of the office building with your co-workers to retire to your humble abode.

"It's 7:37 pm ladies and gentlemen, and we are finally free for the night.", said Sarah, one of your close colleagues.

"Aaaand we're leaving 2 hours later than the designated office hours. This is over time!", exclaimed Kyunghwan, your senior, and sales manager. It was totally unusual but justified for everyone to feel this way. After such a heated discussion about the proposals everyone was exhausted and acted dramatically. Even though they were your seniors, almost everybody still treated each other without the honorifics outside of work; albeit they could seem eccentric given the time and place. You yourself had experienced it first hand and maybe tonight had just a little bit more in store for you.

" Everyone, I totally understand how you must feel.....", stated Mr. Yoon-ho, the team director. "We, are not getting paid enough. Let's go to a restaurant and give ourselves a well deserved treat. The person who is wearing blue today will be the ones to pay up!", came his suggestion.

Hearing his sudden offer, each person constituting the 8 people group cheered and hooted but started checking their dress colours as the realization hit in. 'Oh thank god, I'm wearing anything but blue today' , everyone thought simultaneously.

However everyone's eyes landed on you as you were the only one wearing a turquoise blue ruffle shirt with beige coloured cigarette pants. And everybody knew exactly where that suggestion in the director's mind had come up.

' Oh lord, it's Yeseul again.'

Firstly, Yoon-ho was a huge-ass spend-thrift. Even if he knows he wont eat or use something, he would still spend money on it. Especially when it's someone else's money.

And secondly, he despised you. You and your intelligence. And the fact that you were humble made it even worse for him.

Atleast one can hate on arrogant people for their arrogance. As for humble people, we can't even hate them for anything, much less like. Tch.

Sarah, concerned for you asked if you were okay with that. Not that you really had a choice in the first place.

But you had stopped listening-in to their conversation, midway. Because your eyes were solely fixated on this unexpected visitor, standing right across the road, leaning against his car and looking right at you.

Im Jaebeom, your soon-to-be fiancè, in all his glory was right in front of you and you had no idea what he was doing there.

"Sarah, I'll see you later."

Coming to your senses after 3.57 seconds, you waved back at him and quickly crossed the road to reach him.

" Yeseul, hey" started Jaebeom.

"Uh, hi! I didn't know you were here. How have you been?", unsure, you asked him.

"I've been good. I got off work early today so I decided to pick you up like a responsible boyfriend", smirked Jaebeom.

He had his hands in his pant pockets the whole time, was wearing a suit with his hair gelled up and looked like the epitome of a perfectly successful banker.

"How long had you been waiting?", you questioned. "Not too long, about 20 minutes? .... Yeah. Don't worry though, I was busy on my phone." He lied. He knew you'd feel even worse about the truth because in reality he had been waiting for you since two hours thirty-seven minutes and sixteen seconds.

But even then you insisted, " Now this makes me look really bad. You didn't have to come all the way here. Why didn't you call me?"

"I wanted to be here", he replied cheekily and pat your head. "And it was a good surprise, wasn't it?"

(Sighing) "what if I already went home or I was staying in late?"

"Well then lets just say I got lucky" he smiled.

You were about to say something further, but he cut you in, " By the way, your...... colleagues, they seem... expectant?" Looking back at them you see them all wide-eyed and smiley-faces as if they just didn't come out of an exhausting office day. Realizing their expressions , you turned and asked Jaebeom, " oh, um, Jaebeom-shi, you're not too tired, right? Have you eaten something?"

"No, not really, why?"

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" HA, HA, HA, HA, HA! WHAT A NIGHT MAN, WHOO!!" roared a drunk Mr. Yoon. "Wow, Yeseul, you have such a nice boyfriend, he's a keeper, hahahaha. Everyone! say, 'THANKYOU IM JAEBEOM-SSI!'.

Bashfully, everyone complied, giving you sorry smiles and yet enjoying the food and drinks in front of them as if it was their first time eating.

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Since the time the talks of you about to being engaged rounded up in the halls of your office, everybody had been eager and curious to meet this Mr. Perfect who they had only seen in photos. Everyday not only the women but also your male coworkers would come over at your desk asking you to set up a get together with him.

They all wanted to know who this mysterious person was, taking a liking for someone as stoic as you. They never imagined you being in a relationship with anyone- always holding the title of 'Fashion Femme Fatale'.

So now here you were- with Jaebeom- and a gang of 8 people who were doing nothing but wasting Jaebeom's hard earned money.

Yes, he offered to pay up in your stead.

Ah! So chic!

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You were getting really uncomfortable because you felt bad for Jaebeom who was nothing but sweet to everyone all this time. You were barely starting off in a relationship and now he had to witness all of ....... this.

You wanted to just take your bag and run away with him.

"Hmm, Yeseul , how long has it been since you guys started dating?" Asked Yoon-ho.

Huh?

" uh, it's been about...... 2 months?" you replied looking at Jaebeom for confirmation. After getting his nod of approval you continued, "why do you ask though, sunbae-nim?"

"Ah! I didn't get to congratulate you. First of all....... let me pour you a drink!"

"What, out of nowhere?"you retaliated.

"Ahem! I'm your superior."he countered. "You didn't even touch anything yet, Drink~ bottoms up~~".

In the midst of his coercions, you contemplated- 'Why... do I get intimidated by Yoon-ho ssi? .... Soju's too strong ...... Jaebeom won't be able to drive if he drinks it.... house is far tooo. *sighs* it's over for me if I get drunk and act like an idiot in front of them.... hhnnngg. But if I refuse, the mood will get cold.... last time I was fine for the first few drinks, right?-"

"Give it to me."interceded Jaebeom.

"Huh?"

Turning towards the crowd, he stated, "Yeseul's bad with alcohol. I'll drink for her."

"Ooo~ hahahaha~~"

"playing the knight for your girlfriend ? ~~ "

"so cool!! Whoa~"

Sighing you looked at him, starting to get a little worried. But suddenly everyone chimed in- "still! We're not satisfied with one drink!"

"Let's get Yeseul-ah drunk~!"

"Me too!"

"You cant resist our drink! We're your superiors!"

"Aah~ now, let's not push her too hard. Take it slow. Slow~" said Yoon-ho, giving you his ever so sweet smile.

'It is you I hate the most!' You thought.

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"Aah~ Jaebeom-ssi drank them all"

"~Food is great here!"

"Heard this is the hidden place for gourmets."

After a while things seemed to settle down, your thoughts again wandered towards Jaebeom-

'He keeps on tapping his fingers and feet.... all the while maintaining his smile. I wonder if he's getting bothered by them..... ' -

"Hey~ she cant take her eyes off her BOYFRIEND!" chirped Yujin( colleague, same age as you). Following suit everyone got started off- "He's good looking right?" " you didn't even glance at the others ~" "what ? No, when did I.. " you tried to defend yourself. Sarah who was sitting next to you all this time whispered, "don't take them too seriously 'seul- ah, they're only teasing you, and you know everyone is as good as drunk."

Suddenly Kyunghwan, who was sitting opposite to you, waiting for the right opportunity slipped in~ " You can take mild Brandy right?"

"Ah yes, I can"

"NO." Jaebeom interceded. Again.

He took the glass from his hand and drank it.

"Aish intercepting it all, gosh!"he exclaimed.

But leaving no stone unturned, he kept pressing, "hey! You guys are a couple, atleast show us a kiss!" And everyone started hooted demanding such a public display of affection.

Hearing this, your ears flared up, " oof, what's with you all? Dont you think it's too much? ..... please stop it already. I dont really want to do it. ........Why do we have to do it in front of you?"

Now this... was just too much. Right when you were about to give them a piece of your mind-

"Okay."Jaebeom announced.

" ...... "

" ....... "

" ....... "

What.

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The truth is that both of you had never really kissed before, the closest form of affection you were able to showcase for now was simply a hug, that too only when you were alone. You had no idea what went through his mind when he agreed to everyone's plea. Was he finally drunk? You had never seen him drunk before, all though a few of his friends that you had met told you he had a strong temperance. Maybe this was okay for him?.... Did he probably hear it wrong? Not being able to make head or tail of the situation you questioned him, "Jaebeom-"

"You....... and you." Cutting you off, said person pointed at Kyunghwan and then at Yujin.

"If you two do it, we'll do it too. In fact, it doesn't matter if any other two do it either." explained Jaebeom with a smile.

And then you realised what he was actually doing.

"Don't want to, right?..... I stink of alcohol and 'seul said she doesn't want it. Moreover, it won't look good, if a lady's colleagues at work would act like this, much less her seniors."

"Uh. . . . " a flustered Yujin tried to speak.

" Well I wasn't going to force her to do that" resigned Kyunghwan with a pout.

"Yeah let's just forget about it, okay guys? ", Sarah spoke.

"Wow~ get married already Yeseul, reqally" Said Yoon-ho.

"Such a perfect couple. Tch" mumbled Yujin.

However, when everyone went back to their own, Kyunghwan caught Jaebeom giving him a side glance with a poker face who then turned to look at you. Even though such a gesture unnerved him, the alcohol immediately brushed off that feeling.

You on the other hand were getting more and more worried about Jaebeom, you lost count of how many glasses he must've had on your account, and tried one more time to check up on him- " are you alright? You've been really drinking a lot." But he only gave you a smile in return.

(Sighing) 'He drank way too mu-' *plop*

His head suddenly on your shoulder now, he spoke, " I want to rest."

Looking at you Sarah whispered," He must be tired, you should go home now, don't worry, I'll take care of it here."

"Okay. Jaebeom-ssi ....... Jaebeom? Let's go home now, ok?" You asked.

"Seul."

"Yes?"

"My head aches."

"What? Headache?"

"Its too noisy here..... my head aches.....". Alarmed by this sight you wondered ' 'why's he like this ? Since the start he seemed a bit off. Is his head hurting from being drunk? This was such a bad idea."

You see him gently lift his head up and stare at his hands. Or the table. Or the plate? You see jaebeom blink.

"..."

And he blinked again.

'Ohmygod,he's definitely drunk.'

" uhh, hey- let's go get some fresh air, okay?" You asked holding him by the shoulders. You never witnessed something like this before. But he just stared at you.

'Answer me already.' You thought. Helping him stand up you took your bag, "okay, Sarah, we'll be leaving now, I'll catch you tomorrow, take care!"

"Yeah, you too, goodnight~" returned Sarah.

Once outside you tried to remember where the car was, since the restaurant didn't have a parking lot. You walked a few meters and then stopped. Due to him leaning on you, your back and neck hurt a little, so you decided to sit on the nearby bench. 'Ah, I'm out of strength.'

You both just sat next to each other like that for a while and then you asked him where the car was kept.

But he just smiled at you.

Heaving a sigh, you stood up and started searching around. "Just sit here, and dont move Jaebeom- ssi, I'll be right back." He saw your retreating figure as you left.

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After about 10 min you find the car at the backside of the building and return to where Jaebeon was.

"I found the car, give me the keys and I'll drop you off home" you said.

"Yeseul."

"Yes?"

He smiled. Again.

"Seems like you won't get up for a while." So you sat down. Did he even listen to a word you said? And no sooner than you did, he reached his hand out to touch your face, whereas you instinctively moved back. He paused for a moment, mid air, and then touched your cheek. "You look tired", he said thoughtfully.

Well he wasn't completely wrong.

He let his head drop on your shoulder, and again with the same sweet, mellow voice recited you name," Ye.seul.ah."

"Yes, yes I hear you." You laughed.

"I should've just left with you after work was over rather than come here. Everyone just wanted to meet you so bad. I'm sorry."

" . . . "

"Plus I didn't want you to pay for those guys." You confessed.

"Pay?", queried Jaebeom. "seeing how they sat and behaved with you , it's obvious that they were trying to leech off." He finally spoke.

" Yeseul, I want you to be very cautious and smart about who you associate yourself with in that work place and any where else. I won't always be around you, so you must be wary of people like Kyunghwan. Got it?" And then he lifted his head up to stare straight ahead.

So that's what was bothering him.

Trying to lift the strange tense atmosphere you spoke in childish wonder, "how dare they think of you as a pushover! In fact, why did you even drink whatever came my way, I could've handled-"

"What would you have done?" Cut in Jabeom.

You fell silent.

"Those two men and that woman, those three were your seniors. And anyone could notice how they exploited their position. I understood you couldn't do much from where you stand", he reprimanded you.

After a pause he continued, now in a smaller voice- "I dont think I can drive, how will you get back home?"

" Well thanx to a certain someone, I'm completely sober. So I'll drive your car to your house and drop you off. Then I'll take a cab to mine."

" 'seul?"

"Hmm?"

"You like me right?"

"Huh", you sat up straight, taken off guard by his question.

"You're sincere to me right? Whatever I do, I have always been sincere towards you."

Suddenly flustered by this uncharacteristic side of him you just tried to avoid his question, staring straight ahead.

"Just give me the car keys, let's go home now..." you said in a daze.

'Its definitely the alcohol in his brain.'

"Yeseul!"

"Ah, yes-"

chu!~~

"Wha..."

Chu!~~~

Jaebeom kissed you.

And the realization hit in.

Huh.

Huh???!!

" #$%@&**?! Jaebeom-!!! "

" ? "

"What are you ?! Why did you?!-"

"Hm? What? No one's around."

And he kissed you again. This time properly. Making you feel nothing like ever before.

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Sadly, he ended up passing-out right after and you drove him back to his house, aided the house-helper lay him on bed, took a cab, went back to your home, changed into your night clothes, slipped in your bed and you laughed. You laughed until sleep graced you with her presence.

Except she never came.You were awake the whole night, rewinding and playing the scene again and again with the thought that would nag any other girl in your shoes- 'How do I see him after tonight! '.

Adjshklllajsldgddhddfffff !!!!!!

Eeeek!

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That's the end readers! I hope you enjoyed it my very precious people. If you did then do like and comment. Feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤧🤧

And I wish for your good health in such times and hopefully I was able to help make this quarantine maybe a little more bearable for you. Thanx for reading and dont forget- You Da Best!!!

[hot-tae-with-suga]

This Looks Bad || 1

Summary:  Taehyung and I were just horsing around, but someone took a picture, and now everyone thinks I’m cheating on my boyfriend Namjoon with one of his best friends. Which I’m not, because I don’t (let myself) think of Tae that way. And neither does Namjoon. Right?

Reader (1st person unnamed femme OC)/Namjoon/Taehyung

Idol AU

36.2K total || Rated M || Part 2 | Part 3 (final) | AO3 || Masterlist

Genre: fluff / smut / angst with happy ending || Warnings: Misunderstandings, Failure to Communicate, Bisexual characters, Threesome (in later parts), Smut (in later parts) 

Originally Posted 2019-03-25

Thank you so so so much to my editor S, and my wonderful betas from the JAG discord (L, V, and D)

DOI (Day of Incident)

Balancing my laptop on the arm of a couch with my legs curled up under myself to avoid accidentally flashing someone (because my very sparkly cocktail dress was very short) was not exactly how I’d imagined I’d be writing my thesis for my doctorate. Nevertheless, my boyfriend Namjoon had asked me to accompany him to this event with some music types from Japan, and I was nothing if not a dutiful partner.

I’d been proper arm candy for the first hour, but my Japanese skills barely stretched past nodding and smiling when Namjoon did. He saw that it was starting to wear on me, so he reminded me that my laptop was still in the overnight bag he’d packed if I wanted to go get some work done. I’d kissed him on the cheek and quietly made my escape. The stylists and coordi-noonas had wandered off to the loading dock for a smoke break, or were busy in other parts of the building, so I had the place to myself for at least half an hour before I even heard anyone else.

Voices carried down the hall, but I tuned them out until someone opened the door and strode through. I looked up to see who it was, smiling when I saw Taehyung, Namjoon’s group member I was closest to. He was followed by a pretty young woman who he was speaking to about some style of art, from the few words I caught before he greeted me.

“Hey Charlotte Bronte,” he joked. “Are you hiding from the guests of honour, too?” The woman looked confused, which was rather unsurprising given Taehyung’s habit of calling me by author’s names whenever he caught me writing. Which, at the current stage in my thesis project, was pretty much all the time.

I nodded and stood, quickly bowing to the woman he hadn’t yet introduced. “Yeah, I could only understand about two out of every ten words, so Joon sent me down here.” I quickly saved the work I’d been in the middle of and closed my computer. “If you need the room or anything, I can take off, though.” Maybe not the most subtle approach, but I’d never want to be accused of cockblocking one of my best friends. If Tae was desperate enough to drag this woman to the green room in the middle of an event, I wasn’t going to get in the way of him getting some. It was hard enough to date as an idol, so they tended to take every opportunity they could if they found someone they liked.

Taehyung shook his head. “No, I’m just getting changed a bit early because it will be way too crowded once everyone is back here,” he said, moving to grab his carefully labeled stage wear from the rack in the middle of the room. “Plus, everyone out there was boring, except Park Jiyoo,” he nodded toward his companion. “We were discussing art and photography. She is a curator at a gallery in Ilsan.”

I bowed again in her direction. “Hello Park Jiyoo, I’m-”

She cut me off. “I know who you are,” she said softly. “You’re Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend.”

I chuckled and nodded. “Among other things. I’m hiding out back here to work on my thesis project, feels like it’s all I do these days.”

“Joon-hyung got a smart girl,” Tae commented from behind the folding privacy screen at the back of the room. The hanger clinked against the metal frame as he hooked it over the edge. “Cause he’s a smart boy. They’re a matched set.”

“So are you looking for your match then, Taehyungie?” I teased. Even if he wasn’t bringing Jiyoo back here to hook up right this moment, I’d be a poor friend if I didn’t at least try to play wingman. “So we need to find you a goofball with little-to-no sense of personal space?” Jiyoo giggled at that.

Taehyung stuck his head around the side of the screen, obviously unbuttoning his while dress shirt. “Don’t listen to Ms. Smart Ass, she is cruel and knows nothing.” He ducked back behind the screen again, and I could hear the sound of his belt slithering out of the loops of his pants before it came flying over the top to drape over the screen. I grabbed the belt, sliding it between my hands and then folding it in half.

“Which basically means I know everything,” I told Jiyoo triumphantly. I snapped the belt against itself, the sharp noise making Tae jump and Jiyoo squeak. “But I will admit I can indeed be cruel, to boys who deserve it.”

Tae stepped around the screen, his shirt hanging completely open and off one shoulder, gathering at his elbow, while he held up his unbuttoned pants with one fist. His eyes narrowed at me.

“Give me back the belt, noona,” he warned. I giggled and held the belt behind my back, shaking my head. “The stylists have already warned me about losing costume pieces, I don’t want to get in any more trouble.”

I shook my head again, backing up as he stepped forward. The game of keep away was familiar, reminding me of nights of drinking in the dorm or playing around after a concert as the adrenaline faded. “Nuh-uh, it makes such a fun noise. I think I’d like to use it to scare Namjoon later,” I teased.

Tae took a couple long steps towards me, gaining ground quickly since his legs were to much longer than my own. “I don’t care what kinky shit you and hyung get up to, do it with someone else’s belt!”

I stepped backwards to escape the approaching man, but I’d reached the edge of the room, where a series of tables and mirrors had been set up for makeup and hair, and Tae was in front of me before I could divert course. He reached around me with his free hand, but I twisted and bent to keep the belt out of his reach. Frustrated, he dropped the hand holding his pants up, letting them fall to the floor so he could use both arms to grab for the accessory. I was laughing, switching it from one hand to the other, trying to keep it from him even though I knew that with his superior wing span he’d pin me eventually.

That’s when we saw the flash of light.

Both of us turned to see Park Jiyoo with her phone out, the camera lens pointed at the two of us, with a look of guilty embarrassment on her face. I looked down and saw what she had been taking a picture of: a half-naked Taehyung practically groping me.

“What the hell, Jiyoo-ssi?” Tae asked sharply, and the woman looked panicked. She spun around and ran for the door, both Taehyung and I close behind her.

Tae was slowed down by his loosened pants, which had fallen around his ankles, so I was the one to slide out of the green room in my stockinged feet and shout at security to stop Jiyoo. I watched her try to evade them for a few moments, but it was a narrow hallway and they were big guys, so it wasn’t long before they caught her and took her to the venue security office.

I followed, speaking to the guard in charge. “She was backstage with us, and she took an unauthorized photo, of V,” I used his stage name, trying to impress upon them the seriousness of the matter. I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. I was used to being photographed when I was out with Namjoon, but this had been a private moment between friends, and I knew the situation we were in would look incredibly suggestive, even though it had been mostly innocent.

Namjoon, Taehyung and the other members were such a big part of my life now, they acted so normal, that it was easy to forget how careful they had to be with the people around them. Sometimes that nice young woman they were talking about art with wasn’t able to be trusted with their privacy. It was a wonder they ever let anyone outside their own industry in.

Venue security turned the situation over to Big Hit’s security team, who directed me to wait nearby in case they had any questions. Taehyung found me shortly thereafter, having re-dressed himself and then wandering a bit to find the security office. He wrapped his arms around me and I leaned into him, soaking up any comfort he could offer. The other members happened to file past on their way to prepare for the performance, Namjoon breaking off to join us when he noticed we weren’t where he expected.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, immediately opening his arms and pulling me close when I extracted myself from Tae and approached him. “What’s wrong, baby? You look worried.”

Taehyung’s large hand rubbed across my back where it wasn’t covered by Joon’s arms. “There was a woman, a fan maybe? I don’t know. Someone I brought back to the green room with me when I was getting changed, she ended up taking a picture of noona and me while we were goofing off. Who knows, maybe more than one,” he explained softly.

“So what?” Namjoon sounded confused. “So she got some backstage pictures? It’s not like our relationship is a secret, so what’s the issue?”

“The pictures will look bad, Joon-ah,” I mumbled into his chest where my face was still pressed. Leaning back, I added, “Tae and I...We were in a kind of compromising position.”

Tae sighed and elaborated, “I was in the middle of getting changed, noona and I were goofing around like usual. We’ll just hope they can delete the photos off the phone and send her on her way.”

Just as he said it, their head of security stepped into the hall and approached us, while one of the venue security lead Jiyoo in the opposite direction, toward the back exit. “I’m afraid I have some bad news,” the security head lead with. “She sent a couple of pictures into a group chat before they grabbed her. One of the ones that got out…” He shrugged and looked sympathetic. “Let’s say its not flattering. I’ll contact head office, they’re going to want to get ahead of the storm that’s coming.”

***

I’d been more than a little worried that the commotion might have thrown off their performance, but all the members had been doing this for too long to let a little incident like that bleed through. I’d heard tales of shows on tour that they had performed hurt, sick, and heartbroken; one little kerfuffle with a rogue fan wasn’t going to shake them.

After the event, Namjoon came back with me to my place, as we’d planned beforehand. We’d been instructed by management not to look on our SNS or any gossip sites, management would get a handle on what was happening and didn’t want us to be unnecessarily stressed. I explained to Namjoon exactly what happened in the room, every single detail at least three times, but I still wouldn’t know how bad it was until I saw the picture.

I could only imagine the worst, though, remembering that Tae was practically shirtless, his pants around his knees, pinning me to the table with his hips and reaching around me with both his arms. My dress was so short it had ridden up high on my thighs, I’d had to pull it down before running after the girl. I’d remembered more details each time I described it to Namjoon, repeating it often enough for him to accuse me of trying to turn him on with it.

I stamped my foot and crossed my arms, pouting at him. “Kim Namjoon, this is serious! I don’t want you to think I’d ever do something like that to you,” I whined. “I just want, like, full disclosure. I don’t want you to be surprised.” He moved in front of me, putting his hands on my shoulders.

“I know baby, I know you’d never cheat, that’s why I’m not worried. I trust you, and not only that, but I trust my members. Sure, Jungkook has issues keeping his hands off his hyung’s things, and I’ve seen the way some of them look at you when they think I won’t notice, but they are my family. Closer than, even, and more loyal,”Namjoon said. He chuckled to himself, adding, “And if it was going to be any of them to try something with my girl, it’d never be Taehyung.” He ran his hands down my arms and pulled me closer.

“Hmm?” I asked. “Why?” The way he’d said that last bit struck me as weird.

He looked down at me, mumbling, “I told you, I trust you.”

“Why are you so sure of Taehyung out of all of them though? Because he’s your roommate? Am I so far out of his type that he’d never be attracted to me?” Something occurred to me, and I gasped. “Is he gay?” I started to backpedal, aware of how that could sound. “I mean, its fine if he is, of course, I’d just never had any idea, and I thought he’d had a girlfriend before-”

“Babe,” Namjoon interrupted my spiral into incoherent rambling. “Tae likes girls, and I’m sure he thinks you’re very cute. Just trust me when I say that Taehyung would never think of doing something like that to me.” He bent to give me a gentle kiss that quickly turned into something hotter.

Namjoon picked me up, not breaking our kiss, and set me on the back of my couch, his arms still around me to keep me stable. “Now,” he started. “All of your talk about this potentially naughty picture kinda got me all worked up. Were you like this?” His hands on my hips slid the dress I still wore up a little further, and he pressed himself between my legs. Evidence of just how ‘worked up’ I’d gotten him tented his pants, and I moaned feeling it against my thigh.

He kissed me again, lips sliding against mine until I pulled back enough to point out, “Yeah, just like this. But Tae was wearing way less clothes.” Namjoon laughed, shrugging off his jacket and helping me with the buttons of his shirt.

1 Day P.I (Post Incident)

The next morning I accompanied Namjoon back to the Big Hit offices, which photographers captured since they were waiting for us outside my apartment building. I wasn’t even sure how they had found out where I lived, but apparently they were motivated enough to do so and caught us by surprise. Namjoon held my hand as we walked as quickly as possible toward the car the company had sent for us, hiding behind sunglasses and masks as best we could. It took at least ten minutes longer than normal to get to the offices due to the circuitous route we had to take. Once we finally arrived and rushed inside, I thought we were safe.

I hadn’t taken the other members into account though, and we were greeted with whistles and applause as we entered the conference room.

“Taehyungie-hyung, your new girlfriend is here!,” Jungkook shouted, despite the face that Tae was just two seats away from him. Taehyung lunged to slap their maknae upside the head, and Jungkook rolled away from him in his chair, rubbing the spot he’d been hit.

“How bad is it?,” I asked the room. “We haven’t looked yet.” Jin whistled, the note falling at the end, and I knew it had to be pretty bad.

“Our managers will be back in a minute,” Taehyung said, and stood to approach us with a tablet in his hand, offering it to us. Namjoon grabbed it from him, frantically scrolling up to see the picture that was the subject of the string of comments on the screen. He hissed when it finally came into view and angled the tablet so I could see.

It was a worst case scenario. The picture was cropped so you couldn’t see that Tae’s pants were technically still on (though who knows why that fact was so important to me), the way the shot was angled made it look like my arm was wrapping around his far side, and worst of all, our faces were only inches apart. I groaned and sank to the floor in a squat, wrapping my arms around my knees.

“Babe, babe, it’s gonna be okay,” Namjoon crouched down next to me, patting me on the back. Tae sank down on my other side, rubbing my arm to comfort me.

“ARMYs are going to hate me, Joon!” I cried into my arms. “I’m going to be a villain in their eyes, like from a drama!” I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but I managed to keep them from falling. “Tae-ah, you’re going to catch so much hate, too!”

Before he could answer there as a noise at the door as the managers returned, all looking very serious. The three of us stood up, and I ran my hands over my cheeks to make sure they were dry. Namjoon put his arm around my shoulders and I leaned into him.

“We’ve made a statement on Namjoon’s behalf, that the picture was a private moment that was taken out of context, captured by an over enthusiastic fan who was in an unauthorized area,” Manager Sejin told us, with a sharp look at Taehyung. I had a feeling he’d be getting in trouble for bringing someone “backstage” without clearing it with management. Sejin continued, “It’s a start, but we will need to do more to stay clear of a major scandal.”

I was a little worried about what exactly “more” entailed.

***

Sejin’s “more” turned out to be a complete media blackout, at least on my part. I had to take all of my SNS accounts private, or deactivate them, and I wouldn’t be able to attend any events or even be seen in public with any of the band until this all blew over. The last part would be easy enough, with Namjoon needing to concentrate on finishing their new album and my own thesis due date looming, we weren’t going to be going out together a lot anyway.

Big Hit and the group would also be making an effort to emphasize that everything was fine on their end, lots of content with Namjoon and Taehyung together on their SNS to show there was no tension between them and reassure the fans.

“I hate this,” Namjoon said, his arms wrapped around me as we sat on the couch in his studio. We’d retreated there after the meeting with the managers, to get the last bit of time together we would have for a while.

I nodded. “Me too,” I agreed. “But, we’ll make it through this, right? Its not like we were going to see each other a lot in the next few weeks anyway, with our own obligations we’ll be so busy.” I twisted in his arms to be able to see his face. “We’ll text and call and FaceTime.”

Namjoon smiled. “You gonna tune in to my vlive when I get bored in the middle of the night and can’t just come over to bug you?” he teased. I blushed.

“I always do,” I reminded him. I stretched to kiss his cheek softly. “I’m gonna miss your face.” He pulled me up so that my face was even with his.

“I’m gonna miss your everything,” he said, and returned the kiss, on my lips. “Gonna have to figure out a way to sneak out, like when we were first dating. Or maybe we should sneak you in.”

I smiled against his mouth. “Mmm, every girl’s dream, being snuck in like a dirty secret to fuck in your shared room,” I joked.

Namjoon chuckled and kissed me again. “I’m sure Taehyung won’t mind, since he’s the one who got us in this mess.”

I smacked him playfully. “Don’t blame Tae!” I admonished him. “It’s my fault, too, I was the one who stole his belt. I shouldn’t have been teasing him like we do at the dorm.”

“You didn’t bring some outsider into our space,” he argued. “And Tae will be forgiven much faster than you will be.” His tone was light, but there was a bit of annoyance or even anger behind it.

“Don’t, Joon-ah.” I spoke softly, still curled up against him. “He’s your dongsaeng, don’t go there.” I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his neck. “Let’s not talk about that, it’s the last time we’ll be together for a while. I’m gonna miss this, being with you like this.” His head fell back, giving me room to trail kisses down toward his collarbone, exposed by the tank top he was wearing. I couldn’t help but lick along the ridge of bone, dipping my tongue into the hollow by his throat.

Namjoon groaned and pulled his arms from between us so he could lift me by the hips, turning me and settling me back down so that I was straddling his legs. I rolled my hips against him and celebrated the moan the move drew from him with a nibble on his earlobe. His large hands slid up over my waist and started pushing my shirt up, pulling it over my head. He threw it to the floor, his hands back on me as he claimed my mouth.

Our kisses grew heated, no longer about enjoying the last moments we had together and instead building toward something more. My hands were fisted in Namjoon’s hair, holding his head at the perfect angle for me to dominate our kiss. One of his hands had slid under the waistband of my pants, gripping the skin at my hip, and the other was fumbling with my bra strap when the door opened behind me.

I shrieked and looked frantically for my shirt, but Namjoon had thrown it to the other side of the narrow room. Instead I curled my body in toward my boyfriend, only showing my bare back to our unexpected visitor. Namjoon leaned to one side, keeping an arm around me so I didn’t fall off, and grabbed a zippered hoodie from the back of his chair, wrapping it around me.

“What the hell, Tae?” Namjoon bit out.

Taehyung stood by the door with his hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he was apologizing. “I just came to tell you that security is ready to take noona back to her place.”

I sighed and dropped my forehead to Namjoon;s chest, and he squeezed me close for a moment. “Of course it had to be Taehyung, didn’t it?” he murmured, close enough so that only I could hear. I barked a laugh, earning a look from Taehyung that I didn’t acknowledge.

I stood up, zipping up Namjoon’s hoodie so that I could reach up my back to refasten my bra where he had managed to undo one hook. Joon stood up behind me, grabbing my arms and holding them, making me arch forward awkwardly. “Hey!,” I objected, but he just leaned down and kissed the spot where my neck meets my shoulder, sucking long enough that I knew I’d see a mark there in the morning. I let it happen, forgetting myself in the moment and relaxing back in to him.

Namjoon finally pulled back, and I could hear the smile in his voice as he declared, “There. Mine.” His oddly possessive comment made me turn to look at him, but instead of looking down at me, his head was turned toward Taehyung.

I pulled away from him and grabbed my abandoned shirt off the floor, balling it up and shoving it into one of the oversized pockets of the hoodie. “I’m keeping this, by the way,” I told Namjoon, grabbing my purse as well.

He whined, “But it’s my favourite! I’ll get cold.”

I returned to him and reached up to pat him on the head. “It smells like you, so I like it. You have plenty of other sweaters.”

He hugged me again, and gave me a fond little kiss on the forehead. “You’re lucky I love you,” he warned me.

I nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

***

That night we chatted on the phone. We didn’t usually need to talk again when we’d seen each other throughout the day, we weren’t that kind of couple. The events of the day, though, had left us both feeling a little more needy than normal.

“So, how was your day?” Namjoon asked, his usual conversation opener. I was sitting on my bed with my laptop open in front of me, going through my SNS accounts. I couldn’t resist posting one last picture to my twitter feed before making it private, knowing ARMYs would take a screenshot before it disappeared. It was a shot I’d taken a couple a weeks earlier, we were laying in bed after we’d woken up, and he was holding my hand up to his mouth to kiss it. His expressive eyes stared at me through the screen and I felt like I could still feel the love that had overwhelmed me at that moment. I’d captioned it simply, ‘Steadfast’, needing to make my loyalties known when the world was going to make a lot of assumptions about things they didn’t know. Namjoon and I were in it for the long haul, we would remain steady through this storm.

“What, before or after I was told I wasn’t allowed to see my boyfriend or some of my best friends for weeks?” I replied, though I immediately regretted how passive agressive my words sounded. “Any day I get to see you is better than one I don’t, though,” I added to help soften them.

“I know, the whole situation is fucked up,” he agreed. “But I have total faith in us, we can get through this.” We lapsed into silence, neither of us wanting to burden the other with complaints about a situation we were both stuck in.

“Oh,” I remembered something I wanted to ask. “What was with your little possessive act in the studio today, with Tae? I felt like you were marking your territory or something.”

“Ah,” he said, suddenly sounding shy. “I was just realizing that people might assume we’d broken up or something. Got a little over enthusiastic.”

He hadn’t really answered my question about Taehyung, but I let it go. “I’m not a possession, Joon-ah. Even if someone were to think I’m single, I am perfectly capable of telling them I’m not.”

Namjoon sighed. “I’m sorry, babe. This whole thing is messing with me.” I stayed silent for a beat, waiting for him to add something more. “And I won’t do it again.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “I’m not looking forward to wearing turtlenecks for the next week.” Again we fell silent, unsure that there was anything more to say.

“I love you.” Namjoon’s sudden declaration wasn’t rare, but it was exactly what I needed to hear.

“I love you, too.”

Silence fell between us. It was a comfortable one, though, borne of having shared everything we needed to and merely enjoying each other’s presence, even on the phone.

“We should probably get to bed, though,” I finally said.

“Uh huh,” he mumbled noncommittally, which meant that instead of going to bed, he was going to stay in his studio for a few more hours at least. Usually I would nag at him about getting enough sleep, but I figured he might need the cathartic release that music brought him.

5 days P.I.

“Joon-ah, what does 《bros be-pore hoes》mean?” I asked, knowing I was likely mispronouncing the English phrase. My English was pretty good when it came to academic subjects, but idioms still escaped me.

“What now?” Namjoon asked. We were on the phone again, our nightly ritual of the last several days, to compliment the steady conversation in texts we exchanged throughout the day. Last night he’d initiated a video call during our talk, apparently hearing my voice had made him really miss me in a certain way, and he wanted to show me the evidence. I’d never really been one for phone sex before, but it had at least taken the edge off. It was something I was going to have to get used to before their next extended world tour, at least.

I scrolled through the replies to the latest picture in the group’s feed, a candid shot of RM and V eating noodles. I had to separate them in my head, the men I knew and their stage personalities that they shared with the world, it was the only way to stop me from going off on the people in comments lusting after my man.

“There’s this hashtag people keep using, I know I’m mispronouncing it,” I clarified. “What does it mean?”

“ 《Bros be-pore-》-” he stopped midway, then said it again with what I could only assume was the correct English pronunciation. “Oh, 《bros before hoes》. It’s a rhyme in English. It’s about choosing your brother over-,” he coughed. “About choosing your brother over a woman.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t keep the disappointment out of my voice. “So they think you’ve forgiven Taehyung and chosen him over me.”

“Babe…” I could hear his bed shifting, he was moving around in his helpless frustration. “It was a long shot that they’d believe our statement, you know that. This is the best case scenario right now: they aren’t losing faith in Bangtan and fearing we’re going to break up. We just have to wait until this blows over, or some other scandal takes its place.”

I knew he was right, but it still hurt to hear him say that the best case scenario was having his fans call me an adulteress. I tried to keep quiet, but a hiccuping sob escaped me, making Namjoon curse.

“Babe, I don’t want you to be alone right now. I’m gonna find a disguise or something and come over,” he muttered.

“No, please, I’m fine,” I tried to convince him. “I’ll be okay.” My voice was as shaky as my insides felt.

“I’ll be there in like 20 minutes, tops,” was the last thing he said before hanging up.

6 days P.I.

I’d fallen asleep in Namjoon’s arms after crying my heart out the night before, and barely remembered him tucking me in to bed before sneaking back to the dorm. I’d awoken feeling better, more secure in our relationship and more confident than ever that we were going to be able to see this through to the other side.

Then I checked my phone. It turns out that my boyfriend was super smart, but be could also be a gigantic idiot.

“Joon, how could you?” I hissed into my phone. I was alone in my office at the university, no one to hear me, but I knew he was surrounded by people on his end and didn’t want them to head me screaming at him.

“I didn’t even think! I grabbed a hat and coat that weren’t mine that would fit!” he explained.

“Yeah, but you grabbed Taehyung’s coat, Namjoon. His Gucci coat! And you’re of a similar enough build that it’s easy enough to mistake you in the dark!” I wasn’t even sure when or where the photographers had caught him, only that the news sites were splashed with the image of a tall man with a very distinctive coat at my apartment complex in the middle of the night.

“You didn’t notice either,” Namjoon pointed out.

I ground my teeth. “I was emotionally distressed,” I bit out. “And now people think that Tae snuck over here to see me last night, and that you’re a fool to have forgiven him.

“I’ll fix it,” he promised, hanging up without even a ‘goodbye’. Or an ‘I love you’.

8 days P.I.

“Buying all the members copies of Tae’s coat wasn’t exactly how I imagined you’d fix things, Joon,” I said a couple of days later.

“Now they can’t say for certain who it was,” Namjoon said with pride in his voice.

“Yeah,” I signed. “Now I could be fucking any member of BTS.”

Namjoon scoffed at the idea. “Not any of them, I’m several centimeters taller than most of them.”

“You’re taller than Tae, and they still confused you,” I pointed out.

“I’m sorry.”

11 days P.I.

“Do you think Yoongi would start dating that girl for us?” I asked.

Namjoon mumbled, “Sorry, what?” He was distracted again. He was distracted a lot during our nightly phone calls these days. Working on the album, writing songs, and collaborating with both his members and other producers kept him busy.

“That idol singer he made a song for. If he started dating her, it would at least be something else for people to focus on,” I explained.

He sighed. “I don’t think he’d do it, but you can ask.”

16 days P.I.

It’s the first day we don’t talk.

I told myself we were both busy, I’d forgotten until it was too late to call. But so did he.

It hurt more than I wanted to admit.

20 days P.I.

The managers had decided it was safe enough for me to come visit Namjoon at the dorms. He hadn’t mentioned anything about it when we’d talked, but he texted me that morning to come over in the afternoon and to be cautious.

As the day went on, the data I was supposed to be analyzing was going blurry in front of my eyes. I couldn’t concentrate any longer.

I was leaving straight from the university to minimize the chances of someone seeing or following me, though the crowd camping outside my building had pretty much dispersed. After weeks of no nighttime visitors and my going nowhere except to the school and to run exceedingly boring errands, they’d mostly given up. Still, I had the taxi drop me off several blocks from the dorm, and donned a hat, sunglasses, and a mask before I got out.

Security was waiting for me at the private entrance and I slipped inside, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I made my way to the boy’s dorm and hesitated before I barged in like I used to. It felt weird being there, probably because things had begun to feel increasingly weird between Namjoon and I.

Seokjin looked surprised when he opened the door after I rang the bell, whether it was due to my bothering to ring or that he was surprised to see me at all, I wasn’t sure. Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook were all relaxing in the common area, Jimin on his phone while Tae watched Jungkook play Overwatch on his laptop, but they looked up in sync when I came padding around the corner. Jimin and Jungkook both jumped up to give me a hug, and Tae waved from the couch. I could see the hesitation on his face, and it broke my heart a little that he decided not to come hug me like he usually did, but I understood why.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Jungkook said. “Rapmonnie has been an asshole!” I laughed.

“So, I’m here for your benefit, not Namjoon’s?” I joked.

“Yes!” Jimin insisted. The boys sat back down, and I leaned on the arm of the couch, not intending to stay and chat for long. “He’s been super grouchy. That’s why Yoongi-hyung asked if you could come visit.”

The happy feeling I’d felt building inside me, that Namjoon had wanted to see me, had asked the managers if there was any way I could come visit, suddenly left in a rush. “Oh,” I said simply. Unsure what to do now, since Namjoon obviously wasn’t eagerly awaiting my visit as I’d assumed, I slid off the arm and into the couch, pulling my purse into my lap. My coat was still on, since I’d planned on heading to the studio to hang out with Namjoon after dropping off my stuff but now...

“Aren’t you going to go see him?” Taehyung asked softly.

I shrugged. “He knows I’m here.” At least, he knew I was planning on coming to visit after our texts this morning. “He told me to come to the dorm. I’m sure he’ll come back when he wants a break.”

Taehyung shrugged and turned back to Jungkook’s screen. I settled in, shrugging off my warm jacket and laying my legs along the couch, not quite reaching Tae at the other end. I watched Jungkook play for a little while, but my mind wasn’t on the game. Part of me kind of wanted to leave, to see if Namjoon would even notice that I hadn’t come over, but I dismissed that as too petty. Not that I wasn’t already being petty by not going to the studio, but I knew he would come back to the dorm at some point.

I felt useless, just starting off into space, so I pulled out my phone and started re-reading through some of the data analysis for my thesis project. I had to switch apps back and forth in order to make some notes, which was getting annoying, so I asked Taehyung if I could borrow the tablet sitting beside him to email myself some points to include in my own analysis.

“What are you doing?” Jimin asked, looking up from his phone.

I scoffed. “Boring math stuff,” I replied, my eyes darting from one screen to the other as I typed a short sentence about a possible bias in the data.

Jungkook took an interest and exited the lobby he was in, getting up and crouching behind me so he could see my screen. “What’s with all the dots?” he asked.

I laughed mirthlessly. “I’ve graphed all the data points from my research. In an ideal world, they are all supposed to fall between here-” I pointed to a spot on the graph, “-and here, in an even spread.”

“But a bunch are all together there at the end,” he commented.

“Yep,” I confirmed. “Which means either my data is incomplete, or there is a bias that we haven’t accounted for.” I let my head fall back so I could look at Jungkook upside down. “Which means I need to find it or find more data to include in the analysis.”

“Aish,” he muttered, bracing his arm on the couch beside my head and leaning his chin on it. “It’s all just dots on the screen to me. You’re so smart, noona.”

Footsteps sounded behind us and we both twisted to see who had come in, since we hadn’t heard the door.

It was Namjoon. Of course the first time I see him in weeks, I’m sprawled out on the couch having an intimate looking conversation with his friend while another had grabbed my feet out of habit and was giving me a massage, a fact I hadn’t even noticed in my concentration.

“Hyung, look who came to visit!” Jungkook said, bouncing to his feet.

“Hey,” Namjoon greeted us all collectively. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his oversized knit cardigan, horn rimmed glasses framing his eyes, and a black ball cap pulled down over his blonde hair. After so many weeks not seeing him, he looked like a wet dream.

“I came back to see if anybody wanted to go grab some food with me,” he continued. Silence hung in the room. I tried to tell myself that he’d just forgotten that I couldn’t go out with them, but their silence proved that everyone else had managed to remember.

Seokjin cleared his throat and stepped up next to Namjoon. “How about the four of us go grab something and bring it back here,” he suggested. “Give you two a moment to yourselves?” I met Jin’s eyes, thanking him silently.

I’d never seen the lot of them scramble so quickly to get out the door.

I had stood up while they were all running around, sticking next to the couch, my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. Once the room cleared and we heard the front door close, I looked up at Namjoon and approached him slowly.

“Hey stranger,” I said, and went to wrap my arms around his waist, but he stepped back. I frowned in confusion. “Joon-ah, what’s wrong?”

He reached down and grabbed something from the floor next to my purse, the hoodie I’d stolen and brought back to return in his hand. “Is this it? Because if you’re here to break up with me, I don’t want to draw this out.”

“What?” My confusion only grew, now that he was speaking nonsense.

“You’re returning my shit, you didn’t come down to the studio or even tell me you were here, you’re- you’re fucking flirting with Jungkook!” he rambled, his voice getting heated. “Just do it, already!”

I couldn’t help the edge in my voice, an automatic response to the aggression in his. “I can’t believe you,” I growled. “I’m here, I snuck over here just to see you, because I thought you wanted me, that you needed to see me. I brought your favourite hoodie because it doesn’t smell much like you anymore because I’ve been wearing it for weeks and I wanted to trade you for another one. But I get here and find out that it wasn’t even you who wanted me here, it was fucking Yoongi who asked, because you’re being as asshole to all of them.” I crossed my arms over my chest, huffing at him. “And I’m not flirting with Kookie! He asked me what my thesis is about! And as far as I know, you are the only man in existence who finds my discussing statistical analysis sexy.”

I watched his face soften as I spoke. “Babe, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’ve just been so busy-”

“I’ve been busy too, Namjoon,” I pointed out, my righteous anger not yet slaked. Now it was my turn to step back and avoid his embrace. “And I didn’t pull away like you did. Don’t try and pretend this is just about today.” Frustrated tears fell down my face, and I was helpless to stop them; pretty much any strong emotion made me cry. “This doesn’t exactly bode well for the future of our relationship, does it? Because after you’re done this album, then it’s weeks of promotions, and then your world tour. And it’ll be even harder if I take the job in Busan!”

I hadn’t meant to tell him like this. The offer from a university near my hometown I’d received a couple days previous had been weighing on me and I’d been looking for a chance to tell him about it.

Namjoon froze, his face contorting again. “Busan? You’re moving back to Busan?”

I let my arms curl around my abdomen, feeling very small and sick to my stomach. “My thesis advisor sent part of my draft to a colleague at the university there, and he offered me a job,” I explained. “I haven’t decided anything, and it wouldn’t be until after graduation, but…”

Namjoon scoffed. “Well, good luck with that. You think Tae- or-or- Jungkook would be any better than I am at long distance?” His stutter when he got angry was something I’d never seen directed at me before. “Good luck with that,” he repeated.

“Why the fuck do you keep thinking that I’d leave you and start dating one of them?” my voice had finally risen enough to be called a shout. “They are my friends. How many times do you need to hear it? I’m not interested in dating any of the other members!”

“Because I know you’re attracted to them!” Namjoon shouted back. “You told me, back before we started dating, before I confessed, that you thought every one of us was attractive.”

“But I’m not in love with them, you idiot, I’m in love with you! You’re impossible sometimes, you know that?” I threw my hands up, grabbing my purse and sweater off the couch. “Talk about a double standard. You work with some of the most attractive women in the world, I have to sit there and watch you actively flirt with them on camera, and you smile and give them that look-” I gripped the strap of my bag and shook it in his face. “But I trust you to know the difference between casual attraction and wanting to pursue a relationship, and to come home to me.” A sob wracked my body, the tears coming all at once and my throat constricting painfully. “I trust you. But if you can’t trust me the same way, then there’s no point to this, I guess it’s over.”

I tried to move around him, heading for the door, but he stopped me by wrapping his arms around me. “Please, don’t go,” he begged softly. I felt his body shake with sobs to match mine, though he was better at keeping them quiet. “Don’t leave me like this, please. I can do better.”

“What more do you want from me, Namjoon?” I asked, not moving as tears fell down my face. I was afraid to move, to look at him, not knowing what I would see on his face.

He spun me around, sinking to his knees in front of me. “I see now how I’ve fucked up,” he admitted, his voice muffled by my shirt where he pressed his face into my soft abdomen. “I guess I just got too far into my own head, and I lashed out at you, and I just miss you so goddamn much it hurts.”

I let my things fall to the floor and wrapped my arms around his head. “I miss you, too. It’s been breaking my heart, feeling like you’re pulling away from me.” I felt him turn his face up toward me and looked down to meet his eyes. “This doesn’t work without that trust, Namjoon. I can’t keep doing this.”

“Please,” he choked out a sob, rubbing his face against me again. “Let me try again, I can make it up to you. I can do better, I swear. We can be better together, just don’t leave me.”

“Can we be better?” I asked, more to myself than to him. “We have no idea when things will get back to our normal, this could go on for months.” My heart was breaking even though I knew I had to say the words. “And even then, I’m still busy, you’re still busy, and you’re going to be travelling for extended periods. And who knows where I’ll end up working.” I swallowed, trying to keep my voice even. “Should we just- just cut our losses now?”

“No no no,” Namjoon chanted. “Don’t give up on us, on me. Please.” He stood up, and I let my arms fall back to my sides. I looked up into his face and saw the pain spilling out of his eyes.

I’d spent the last days wondering if he’d been distant because he didn’t love me anymore, that he’d stopped caring when I wasn’t constantly there to remind him. The tortured expression on his face made those worries seem ridiculous. His love for me, his enduring affection and care, was plain as day.

“I don’t want to,” I whispered. “I don’t want to give up, I mean.” I leaned into him and hugged him around the waist. “I love you too much to give up.”

He returned my embrace, one of his hands reaching up to cup my head, tangling in my hair. We stood there for several minutes, each lost in our own thoughts, but so grateful to simply be in each other’s arms.

I finally pulled back and sniffled, wiping the back of my hand across one cheek. Namjoon’s strong hands cupped my face, this thumbs wiping away the rest of the tears. Once that was done, he leaned down and gave me the sweetest kiss on my mouth, just a soft brush of his lips on mine.

We heard a door close down the hall and turned to see Yoongi walking in from his room. “Thank fuck,” he cursed, seeing us embracing. “I was afraid I’d be coming out to see you alone and crying after the shouting, but looks like you’ve made up. Are you going to stop biting my head off now?” Namjoon laughed softly at his hyung’s question.

“Thank you, Yooni-ssi,” I said, turning to him. “I hear you’re the reason I was allowed to visit.”

Yoongi shrugged. “He was unbearable, and you said you missed him,” he brushed off my thanks.

“You were talking to Yoongi-hyung?” Namjoon sounded surprised. Doubt crept into my mind, wondering if his newly revealed irrational jealousy was going to make for another fight.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “I texted him a few days ago to ask if he’d start a scandal to take the spotlight off of us. And he asked how I was doing.”

Namjoon laughed. “I didn’t think you were actually going to ask him!” he admitted.

I bit my lower lip, knowing I needed to be upfront. If Namjoon was going to take issue with me contacting my friends just because they were guys, I needed to know as soon as possible. “A few of the other members texted me, too, asking how I was handling things. I thought they were just being sweet, but now I think they might have been worrying over you.” I met his eyes, looking for any clue as to how he’d react. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

Namjoon pulled me close again, placing a kiss on my temple. “It’s fine, you don’t have to tell me about your friends texting you.”

Wanting to make myself clear, I added, “You don’t have a problem with us being friends, do you?”

Namjoon looked me in the face again. “Of course not. What did you think, I was going to ask you to cut them off? Imagine Jimin if you just suddenly stopped being friends with him. It would break his little heart.” He smiled at me. “I’m sorry my stupid jealous freakout has you doubting your own friendships. I just- I guess I’m not all that good at long distance after being able to be with you for so long. That’s on me, though, something I have to work on for myself. Because I do trust you, implicitly. I swear I do.” I felt like that wasn’t the whole story, not the root of the problem anyway, but it was enough for me, for now.

My boyfriend leaned down to kiss me again, this time a little harder, more like he usually did when he was just saying hi. I let my lips fall open as his tongue swept inside to meet my own. He moaned a little into my mouth, pressing his body closer until we heard someone clearing their throat.

“Ah hmm,” Yoongi coughed very deliberately from where he sat on one of the couches, staring at his phone. “Are you done? Cause the guys want to know if its safe to come in with the food, and I’m hungry.”

***

I leaned back in my chair, resting my hands on my over-full belly and sinking into the comforting feeling of Namjoon’s arm around my shoulders. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel like a relief to be back here, hanging out with all of them again. Namjoon especially, of course, but I missed the camaraderie of the whole group as well.

“Do you want to come back to the studio with me?” Namjoon asked as he pushed his chair back from the takeout container covered table and stood. “I can play you what I’ve got so far.” I nodded and moved to stand up as well, knowing that ‘listening to what he’s got’ was code for some time alone, which we both needed and knew we weren’t likely to get if we stayed at the dorm.

“Hyung, can we hear too?” Jimin asked, rushing to stand with us. Taehyung and Jungkook both jumped up as well, though the maknae was still bent in half, shovelling another bite of noodles into his mouth. “You’ve been such a bear, we’ve kind of been afraid to ask.”

Namjoon leaned into me and groaned, but I could see the dimple in his cheek, so he was smiling at their antics. It warmed my heart, that he was willing to indulge them even though he knew they were using me as a buffer. “Fine,” he sighed for dramatic effect, his smile gone when he straightened to look at them. “It’s still pretty rough, though.”

Even rough, the little snippets he played for us held a lot of promise. The three boys were obviously as into it as I was, asking Namjoon to play some parts over and over and throwing out ideas of their own. He’d been working with other writers and producers, as usual, but I felt like I was starting to recognize the spin he put on each piece of music.

“And Taehyung already laid down vocals for this one,” Namjoon reached around me and clicked to open a new file on his computer, the smooth notes filtering through the speakers. He pulled his arms back around my waist, holding me tight on his lap, a position so easy and familiar it was hard to believe we’d been fighting at all.

Taehyung’s voice filled the room, the deep soulful tone sliding around the melody, and I smiled. “Oh my goodness, Tae!” I gushed. “Your voice is absolutely- It’s like, toe-curling!”

Namjoon chuckled behind me. “Don’t you usually call his voice panty melting?” he asked, loud enough for the others to hear over the music, much to my shame.

I blushed. “I didn’t think that phrase was entirely appropriate, given the circumstances,” I muttered, and they all laughed quickly before quieting down to listen to the rest of the song. Taehyung’s haunting voice was lamenting a love he could not have, purely due to circumstances out of their control. Tears sprung to my eyes, and I leaned back to ask Namjoon, “You wrote this one, didn’t you?”

He nodded, and added, “Taehyung helped with the melody and some of the lyrics. Not sure this one is going on the album, but maybe we’ll release it on soundcloud or something.”

I snuggled further into his lap, pulling his arm around me until he squeezed me so tight I could barely breathe. The combination of the sweet lyrics and Tae’s voice were only making that time alone with Namjoon more urgent. “Do you think I could spend the night?” I asked softly. “Ask Taehyung to pile in with one of the others, just for tonight?”

I felt Namjoon smile, since I couldn’t see him. “I dunno, baby, I think Taehyung might not mind watching,” he said, louder than I had been, deliberately making it so the boys could hear.

Jimin started laughing so hard, he curled into a ball and rolled sideways on the couch, bumping into Taehyung beside him. Tae’s face coloured and he looked pointedly at the floor as Jungkook giggled and slapped his knee.

I rolled my eyes. “Ugh, Joon-ah, don’t be such a pervert,” I admonished him. “Come on, isn’t it time you took me to bed?” I knew that would get a reaction, and it did, everyone laughing at my intentional hypocrisy.

“Aish, noona, I never thought you’d be so cold,” Jungkook said. When I shot him a confused look, he continued, “You get turned on by Taehyung, and then you kick him out of his own room to bang Namjoon-hyung.”

I laughed at his analysis. “Or, my lovely boyfriend wrote a song for me, which he got his friend to sing because he knows how much I love his friend’s voice,” I argued. “Really, it’s Joon-ah who is using Tae as foreplay.”

The guys laughed at that and Namjoon grumbled, telling everybody to get out, and we all made our way back to the dorm. No one said anything, but I saw Taehyung duck into Kookie’s room as everyone headed off to bed.

***

Despite how tiring our day had been, both physically and emotionally, neither Namjoon nor I wanted to fall asleep quite yet. We’d fucked as soon as the door to his room closed, all rough hands and hard mouths, then cuddled for a while and made love a second time. Namjoon had ducked out to get a washcloth to clean ourselves up with before we fell asleep, but he hadn’t waited long enough for the water to warm up, so I yelped when the cold cloth first made contact with my cum streaked thigh.

“Sorry, babe,” he said, moving quickly so as to minimize the amount of time I had to deal with it. I sucked in a breath when he swiped over my swollen labia, and he grinned. “A bit sensitive, hmm?”

“Just a bit,” I confirmed, and pushed his hand away when he moved to shock me again. He dropped the cloth to the floor, and I tried to see where it landed so I wouldn’t step on it in the morning, but he flopped on top of me before I could spot it. “You should really hang that up or something,” I pointed out.

“Mmm,” he hummed against my throat where he’d nestled his head. “Missed this.”

“What, squishing me to death?” I asked, slowly shoving him until he rolled onto the other side of me, but he pulled me with him so I was lying half on top of him. “You just missed sex,” I accused, trying to play it off like a joke, but I still worried that’s all he wanted me for.

Namjoon shook his head. “Nope, I’m sure it’s you,” he asserted. He kissed my neck softly, then pulled his head back, voice turning all serious. “Babe, can I tell you something? Promise not to get mad?”

My heart dropped, sure he was going to confess to something awful like cheating on me. We’d been apart for weeks, and I knew the sexual frustration would have been getting to him as much as it did to me, and he had no shortage of opportunities. I swallowed thickly, hoping my voice wouldn’t betray my inner turmoil. “Sure.”

“See…” he started, and my heart rate increased, terrified of what was to come. “For a long time, Taehyung and I have had this kind of friends-with-benefits arrangement-” My brain short circuited, not understanding what I was hearing. I was expecting something, something like an intern he made out with, but he’s suddenly confessing to some past relationship with Taehyung? His roommate and fellow band member, Taehyung, who everyone thought I was cheating on Namjoon with? I didn’t even know he was into guys, like at all. Namjoon was still talking though, so I tried to catch back up. “-So when he offered I kinda freaked out and he didn’t mean anything by it cause he thought it’d be cool, and I swear I didn’t fuck him.”

I turned on my side so I was facing him. “Okay, slow down. You and Tae have...a past?” He nodded. “A romantic one?” He twisted his mouth and brought his hand closer to our faces and tited it back in forth, meaning kind of. “Okay, not quite romantic, but sexual?” Another nod.

This time the feeling in the pit of my stomach wasn’t dread or fear, but something molten I felt to my core. Namjoon smirked when he saw the way my pupils reacted. I tried to push aside the flash of lust that had hit me at the thought of my boyfriend and his group member together in that way. “So, sorry, what happened with Tae?”

“Whenever we’re both between relationships and feeling horny we, you know, help each other out,” Namjoon explained unnecessarily.

I shook my head. “No no, I get that part. What happened the other day that Tae didn’t mean anything by cause he thought it was cool? I kinda lost the thread of what you were saying in the middle there,” I admitted, which made him smile even wider.

“Uh huh,” he leered at me as he said it. “So Taehyung saw that I was...shall we say I was struggling with being away from you for so long, and he thought I might need some relief of a sexual nature. And he offered by, uh, kinda waking me up with his mouth. Like, on my dick.”

I listened to him struggle to give me details, and the images his words brought to mind were some of the most erotic things I’d ever imagined. I glanced around at the bed we were lying on, imagining Joon splayed out across it like he usually was when he had the bed to himself, morning wood tenting the soft grey sweatpants he used as pyjamas. Taehyung, sliding out of the bed on the other side of the room and approaching Namjoon’s bed slowly, pulling down Joon’s pants to free his erection and sliding that wicked looking tongue of his from base to tip. I knew from experience that would be enough to wake Namjoon, but in my little fantasy Tae didn’t stop, crouched over my boyfriend and taking him deep into his throat a few times before Namjoon’s hand fell to the back of his head and Joon arched up into the younger man’s mouth…

“Well now, isn’t that interesting,” real life Namjoon said quietly. I snapped my head up to meet his eyes, falling into his all too perceptive gaze. “You like that, don’t you?” He slipped his firm thigh between my knees and pressed upwards. “Here I thought you’d be pissed, or need me to convince you that I didn’t take him up on his offer, which I didn’t, and that he knew now that it wasn’t something I’d be welcoming since you and I are together, which he does. Instead, I think you want me to tell you more.”

His thigh was high enough to press against my core, and I rocked against it. Namjoon hissed. “Baby, you’re soaking again. I can feel it on my leg. We just got cleaned up for bed, but you’re such a dirty girl, aren’t you?” he said into my ear, his voice low and gravelly, which wasn’t helping my level of arousal. I moaned and twisted my head to kiss him again just as a sliver of light fell across the opposite wall and the door creaked open. Namjoon grabbed a blanket and quickly pulled it over our entwined bodies.

Taehyung walked into the room slowly, glancing around in the dark to detect any possible movement, trying not to disturb us while he thought we were sleeping. After he stumbled over something on the floor, it was too dark to see what, Namjoon took pity on him. “It’s okay, Tae, we aren’t asleep yet.”

“Oh, sorry,” Tae whispered. “I can go back, I was just getting tired and it sounded like you guys had, uh, finished…”

“We were just falling asleep, Taehyung,” I reassured him. “Go to bed if you want.”

“Mmm, are you sure, babe?” Namjoon teased me. “We were just talking about what happened with Tae and I the other morning, and you were getting all hot and bothered.”

Taehyung coughed. “I’m sorry, what? You- you told her?” I wished there had been enough light to see the expression on his face, to see the shock that as so evident in his voice.

“Yeah, don’t worry, she’s kind of really into the idea,” Namjoon laughed until I struck his arm lightly. I didn’t want Tae to know I’d been fantasizing about him fucking my boyfriend and get all awkward with me.

“No, we are just going to go to sleep, you’re safe to stay,” I assured the younger man. Namjoon rocked forward, the thigh still between my own pressing against my centre, so I shoved him back. “And if you don’t stop that, my love, I’ll go find somewhere else to sleep, and you can sleep alone.”

25 days P.I.

“Come on, babe, please?” Namjoon begged. I sighed, knowing I shouldn’t give in but wishing I could.

Things between us had been better since I’d been to visit a few days earlier, back to the nightly phone call and endless string of texts. Now he was asking if he could come by my place for a quick visit, and being whiney about it.

“I have a deadline, Joon-ah,” I reminded him for what felt like the twelfth time in the five minutes we’d been on the phone. “I need to work through the edits from my advisor before I submit my final draft, and after that I need to start preparing for my defense.”

“I promised I won’t stay too long,” he argued. “I’ll even bring some of the guys with me so we have chaperones. We’ll bring dinner and we can all eat together. I know you probably haven’t been taking time to eat properly…” I looked at my messy kitchen, counters piled with bowls of half-eaten ramyeon eaten hastily in front of my computer, knowing he was right. Namjoon’s voice dropped as he added, “I don’t want to go so long without seeing you again. I don’t want us to end up doubting each other again.”

Of course he knew exactly how to pull at my heartstrings. “Fine,” I acquiesced, as he knew I would. “But only for a little bit.”

I really should have known better. Namjoon showed up with Taehyung (“the others were all busy”), dressed so stylishly in their ripped jeans and designer shirts that I wondered if they’d just come off a photo shoot, and filled my coffee table with the boxes of food they’d brought. Once we’d eaten, he’d insisted there’d be no harm in them staying to watch a movie while I continued to work. He just wanted to hold me, he claimed, so I settled in to his lap with my computer and ignored the movie on screen. I was so engrossed in my work that I didn’t even notice when the first movie ended and they started a second, but it was one of my favourites, so eventually I closed my work and settled back into Namjoon.

After a few moments of my leaning across him, Namjoon shifted so that he was sitting sideways on the couch, his legs on either side of me so he could pull me more firmly into his lap. I wiggled back against him and he let out a low groan, slipping his hand up under my shirt to splay across my stomach.

“Uh, Joon-ah, don’t be gross in front of Tae,” I chided him, but wiggled back again, wanting to punish him a little bit for staying longer than he’d promised.

Namjoon swatted at my thigh with his free hand. “Sit still, then!” he returned. “I wouldn’t have been gross if you weren’t being dirty.”

I gasped for dramatic effect and twisted to look him in the face. “How exactly am I being dirty? I’m just getting comfortable.”

Namjoon scoffed. “Yeah, you’re comfortably grinding on my dick.” The hand on my abdomen slid up high enough slip unter the wire of my bra and graze at the underside of my breast, causing me to wiggle yet again. “You’re killing me here, babe!”

I stopped, remembering we weren’t alone, and looked over at Taehyung to make sure he wasn’t about to run away in embarrassment. To my surprise, he met my gaze and smiled. “It’s okay,” he assured me. “Nothing I haven’t heard or seen before.” I blushed, but smiled my thanks and grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, throwing it over Namjoon and I for a little more privacy if he decided to pull my shirt up again.

By the end of the second movie, Namjoon was snoring behind me and Tae could barely keep his eyes open. “Okay, guys, you’ve been here longer than you said you would, time to head home,” I said, loud enough to startle them both. Taehyung groaned, and Namjoon hugged me tighter, pulling me back into his lap.

“Babe, it’s too late,” he complained. “Can’t we just crash here?”

I muttered, “How did I not see this coming?” but still freed myself from Namjoon’s arms and went to the closet to grab an extra pillow and some blankets. “Here, Taehyung,” I said, dropping them on the couch. “The couch is comfy enough that I fall asleep on it all the time.” I helped Namjoon to stand and pulled him behind me to my bedroom.

We had settled down, ready to fall back asleep when we heard my couch scrape against the floor as if someone was moving it around. It finally stopped, but we listened to bare feet padding down the short hall to my closed door.

“Noona?” Taehyung asked through the door. He said something else, but it was muffled.

“What?” Namjoon asked. “Open the door, we can’t hear you.” Taehyung did as ordered, but stood in the doorway, not stepping into the room.

“Do you have an air mattress, or some more blankets or something? I’m too tall to fit on the couch,” he said.

I shook my head. “Sorry, I don’t really.” Tae nodded and reached for the door to close it again.

“Just-” Namjoon said with a sigh. “Come join us,” he offered. “We should have enough room.”

My eyes widened in shock, and I turned back to look at Joon’s face. Was he serious? I knew he was used to sharing a bed with Tae, but I certainly wasn’t. Did he really want to spend the night sandwiched between his past and current lovers? I may have found the idea of the two of them together that way...intriguing, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to lay next to them while they snuggled or something. I certainly wasn’t a fan of having the situation sprung on me like this.

I couldn’t exactly deny him after the offer had been made, though, so I scooted back toward the edge of the bed to make room for Taehyung on Namjoon’s other side. Joon grabbed me, though, and started pulling the both of us the other way. “You know I’d overheat if I was between the two of you,” he explained, and I felt the bed sink behind me as Tae climbed in. “You good?” Joon asked once we were all settled in.

“Yeah, sure,” I promised bravely. Tae and I had technically fallen asleep together before, but there was a big difference between falling asleep against each other on the couch at the dorm and sleeping in bed together on purpose.

“You know,” Namjoon began with a smirk. “If you get too hot, you can always take off your pyjamas. Neither of us will mind.”

“Hyung!” This time it was Taehyung scolding him. “This is awkward enough without you making it worse.”

I kicked my way out from underneath the blankets, sitting up to crawl out of the bed. “I’ll just go sleep on the couch, I’ve done it before,” I grumbled, trying not to let emotion creep into my voice. I’d nearly made it to the end of the bed before a strong arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back. To my surprise, it was Taehyung who held me to him, not my boyfriend.

“Ignore hyung, he’s being an asshole,” Tae said, his mouth right next to my ear. I hoped he couldn’t feel the shiver that coursed through my body; I really wasn’t exaggerating the effect his voice had on me. “It’s just like passing out on the couch together, no big deal.” He had a point, our relationship had always been heavy on skinship and it had never bothered me before.

As if to further convince me, Taehyung started humming softly, some tuneless notes that turned into the melody of the song I’d heard at the studio, the one he and Namjoon had written for me. My body was still tingling from his voice, so I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing, hoping I’d drift off.

I must have looked convincing, because once the song was over, Tae started whispering at Namjoon. “What the fuck are you trying to pull, hyung?” His voice was harsh despite his attempts to keep quiet.

“Don’t act all innocent, I know you still like her,” Namjoon answered, his voice almost teasing and heavy with sleep. It seems Tae’s lullaby had worked on Joon as well. “Seen the way you watch her when she isn’t looking, use every excuse to touch her and hold her close. That picture, the scandal...I don’t know how she doesn’t see how bad you want her, it’s all over your face.”

“Hyung,” Tae whined. “So you just want to torture me? Force us closer to punish me for wanting her, or is this retaliation for interrupting you the other night?”

Namjoon chuckled. “No, nothing like that.”

“Then what, hyung?”

Namjoon was silent for a few moments, long enough that I was tempted to open my eyes to check if he’d fallen asleep mid conversation. Finally he spoke, but his words gave me no comfort. “Look at her, curled up with you in an instant, when I’m right in front of her. She was looking at you the same way, Taetae, in that picture. She wants you too, I’m pretty sure.”

I felt more than heard Tae’s sharply indrawn breath; he had pulled me right up against him and his arms tightened around me even further in his moment of shock. I had to will myself to remain relaxed, knowing that if I even stiffened they would realize I was awake, and I’d lose out on hearing the rest of this conversation they were having.

“I would never, hyung! Noona wouldn’t- She’s your girl, Joon-hyung,” Taehyung stumbled through the words, clearly at a loss for what to say to Namjoon’s revelation.

I wouldn’t have known what to say, either. My mind was racing, overwhelmed with new information and things to consider. Was he right? Did I really have a crush or something on Tae? He was probably my best friend, and I adored him to pieces, but I had been into Namjoon from the moment we met, head-over-heels in love for a couple of years now. Sure, Taehyung was attractive, but so were all the other members, and no one could fault me for enjoying the view. But I couldn’t deny that my relationship with Taehyung was different from the rest of the guys, we were closer and hung out together more, and were more cuddly, but I figured Tae was just like that with everybody. Unless that touchyness was a manifestation of some kind of feelings for me…

“She is, for now. Doesn’t have to stay that way,” Namjoon said softly, and my racing mind ground to a halt.

Next (Part 2)

[finefeatheredfriend]

Vampire Science!

I just finished Vampire Science (edit: since I couldn’t post this earlier because of my trip it’s actually been a few days lol) and it was amazing. I am so so happy that I’ve had people tell me not to judge all the EDAs by how... awful the Eight Doctors is haha!

I loved this novel a lot. Sam is a delight and Eight is perfect and I just really loved all of it so much. It’s so well written! And there were so many scenes that just made me laugh out loud and grin and at times I was captivated by the action scenes (which rarely happens!) and just read through it quickly while gaping. It was so clever.

The only thing I didn’t like about this one was the absolute lack of naked Eight. It’s unacceptable that he only dressed down to his shirt and didn’t take off more of his clothes.

For some reason I was also 100% convinced Carolyn was going to die. I really liked her though! And I related to Shackle a bit too much for my liking. The UNIT general was cool too! I still haven’t really made my mind up about Joanna. But all these side characters were absolutely brilliantly written!

I did a kind of liveblog thing in my notes so I could come back later and see what exactly I liked about the book - here’s a list of my favourite liveblog bullet points:

- tall? eight? paul mcgann tall? green eyes? what

- ‘the TARDIS was the closest thing he had to a girlfriend now’ uuuh what

- Sam theorising about the Doctor’s name and joking it might be Fred aaaaah the Romana feels

- Eight is just covered in little kittens and then... ‘he shook his head carefully and the kitten on top clung on for dear life’ asdfghjkl

- we need to see Eight in just his shirtsleeves and waistcoat more often. it’s for science. vampire science

- ok no I take that last one back that was a little too much

- oh please, Doctor, do feel free to remove even more of your clothes

- and now the cravat’s gone too

- yes only a few more layers to go, go on

- ‘I was afraid I’d run out of clothing before I got to you’ and I was afraid you���d get there before all your clothes were gone and here we are, and you’re still wearing half your clothes

- ‘Welcome,’ he said, striking a dramatic half lit pose, ‘to the opera... of Doom’ ahsgahs that reminds me of ‘the ambassadors... OF DEATH’

- ‘You expect me to buy that you’re some kind of a mythical creature?’ ‘Joanna... you’re a vampire’ I’m screaming

- Fred the Eternal Snail I’m screaming ‘He was a mascot until someone stepped on him and they had to stake him with a toothpick’ agahdgah

- ‘I want you to take me. Uh, with you.’ in which Carolyn says what we’ve all been thinking all along

- oh my GOD now he’s gently running his hands through her hair to make her go to sleep aaah oh my god oh my g o d

- THE DOCTOR HAS A BUTTERFLY ROOM AAAAAH

- “I could succeed in many things, fail in many more, but as long as I've petted the cat I've done everything that really matters.” same

- ahahaha the Doctor just caught a bat in his bare hands and then talked to it in baby talk I’m screaming “Awww,' said the Doctor, scratching the bat under the chin, 'Did the big mean owd wady fwighten you?”

- love how the doctor just counts the years since his last regeneration as how old he is hahah oh wait so sam and him have been travelling for three years?? cause he met her right after san francisco and he said it’s been three years since his last regeneration OH wait sam also said he goes travelling without her for up to a year when he gets distracted so maybe that’s why

- “Real trust is as rare and precious as having a cat pay attention to you” eight is a cat person confirmed

- oh my GOD Kramer has to explain to the doctor why all the women flock around him aaah he’s such a useless baby I love him

Wow sorry I didn’t expect this to get this long ahahah

Under the cut there’s the whole liveblog/every single reaction i had to the book if you’re interested! (I’m just adding it so I have all my reactions recorded but feel free to read if you want)

I bolded the ones I liked a lot but couldn’t put in my favourites because it would have gotten too long ahaha

- ok right from the very first page I already love the writing at least 100% more than that of the eight doctors

- I somehow thought I’d seen art of Sam that had her have dark hair but she’s always described as a blonde...? Am I mixing things up?

- Sam is ‘unapologetically butch’? love that

- are they at a gay bar? I love this

- wait ok I spoke too soon I mean they might still be at a gay bar but uhh I mean I am aware this book is literally called vampire science but I wanted those two women to just be gay not one of them to kill/eat the other

- tall? eight? paul mcgann tall? green eyes? what

- for god’s sake can people please stop calling eight’s clothes a Jane Austen costume that. is. the. wrong. era!!

- STRING!! the Doctor has a ball of string in his pockets!! this takes me back to Caerdroia

- why do I have a feeling Carolyn is going to die

- it’s because she keeps talking about how she wants to join them in travelling the universe when I don’t remember hearing of any Carolyn travelling with eight

- ‘running off with a tall dark handsome mysterious stranger and a femme fatale? she wasn’t picky, she’d take either’ I love myself a disaster bi

- but she’s gonna die isn’t she

- ok why are we getting so much backstory on her if she’s gonna die anyway

- oh it’s gonna come in handy later that she’s a biochem major isn’t it

- since it’s vampire science

- how convenient they met her

- ok so maybe she won’t die after all...? it’s 20 years later and she probably has a family she doesn’t want to leave and that’s why she won’t travel with the doctor and Sam

- why is it so important to know that her partner is 5 years younger like is that important later I don’t get it

- oooh Sam’s room on the tardis belonged to another teenager before her? who???

- ‘the TARDIS was the closest thing he had to a girlfriend now’ uuuh what

- Sam theorising about the Doctor’s name and joking it might be Fred aaaaah the Romana feels

- ok. earlier I was confused because apparently his eyes are green in this book. now they’re blue? what’s going on

- aaah I can’t believe Sam has to tell the Doctor how to put on his shoes cause he can’t do it on his own ahahaha

- UNIT!!!! am I happy about this or not?

- Sam is 19, but with the right clothes and the right attitude she can sometimes pass for 20. oh Sam, you sweet summer child i love you

- I wasn’t sure about James before but he seems like a nice guy now

- please don’t let him be killed

- I really like Sam

- ‘he didn’t notice the taxi behind him, its driver mildly excited to have been asked to “follow that car!”’ asdfghjkl

- ‘the Doctor couldn’t do anything to stop what was going to happen’ oh no James really is going to die isn’t he

- aaaw when Carolyn and the Doctor meet again and she hugs him while crying... I felt that

- oh yes give me more of Eight in shirtsleeves wearing and apron while cooking breakfast - I’d like to wake up to that hehe

- oh my god and he is singing

- and... beatboxing...?

- and he tucked Carolyn into bed last night oh my heart

- ‘You have cute eyebrows’ I’m screaming

- ‘a manipulative little weirdo’ ... sounds about right but still, don’t talk like that about my baby seven, kramer

- I love Sam

- and nOW EIGHT IS PETTING A KITTEN THAT FELL INTO HIS LAP I CAN’T

- this book is full of little things that just make my heart go !! or make me laugh so much

- this just gets better and better - Eight is just covered in little kittens and then

- ‘he shook his head carefully and the kitten on top clung on for dear life’ asdfghjkl

- and one of the kittens got into his coat pocket!! ugh this scene was too cute, I wasn’t really paying attention to anything but what the kittens and eight were going to do next ahahah

- looove the little remark about Sam going to the gay rights march aaah

- Ahahah sam wanting to high five the Doctor while they’re undercover I’m screaming

- personal vamp scale I can’t

- ahaha that guy was ‘dancing vaguely at her with an angular lack of grace that suggested he’d been dead since the days of the funky chicken’ hahaha

- NO SAM NOOO

- oh Doctor my poor baby it’s not your fault

- Oh please let Sam be alright

- Aaah

- I don’t want her to die

- Out of all the characters i really didn’t think I’d relate to shackle so much

- ‘Sam Jones, the girl who’d climbed on to a roof to spray paint ‘anorexics die for business ££££’ onto a lingerie billboard’ Sam you absolute icon

- they mentioned Ace!!!

- Ahaha those two vampires haha one of them trying to dramatically recruit some young vampires and the other just interrupting him making fun of him ahahahaha

- I loooove how the Doctor just ignores that vampire

- And then he’s just so totally nonchalant when he finally speaks ugh I love him

- Nooo don’t let them turn you into a vampire James!!

- we need to see Eight in just his shirtsleeves and waistcoat more often. it’s for science. vampire science

- ok no I take that last one back that was a little too much

- oh please, Doctor, do feel free to remove even more of your clothes

- and now the cravat’s gone too

- yes only a few more layers to go, go on

- ‘I was afraid I’d run out of clothing before I got to you’ and I was afraid you’d get there before all your clothes were gone and here we are, and you’re still wearing half your clothes

- ‘Welcome,’ he said, striking a dramatic half lit pose, ‘to the opera... of Doom’ ahsgahs that reminds me of ‘the ambassadors... OF DEATH’

- now the Doctor has clear blue-grey eyes - which I suppose is closer to the blue they mentioned before than the green they mentioned before that

- but still

- agree on one eye colour PLEASE

- unless... that’s some weird time lord physiology thing? changing eye colour? could be

- could also just be the light ahah

- ‘You expect me to buy that you’re some kind of a mythical creature?’ ‘Joanna... you’re a vampire’ I’m screaming

- no Doctor don’t put your clothes back on yet

- sigh. yellowish green? his eyes really do change colour don’t they

- I swear to god if the doctor actually turned into a vampire I’m gonna just leave

- this chapter title is hurt/chocolate ,,,,, like hurt/comfort? Ahaha (I’m laughing now because I’m scared i won’t be able to later)

- the Doctor? sleeping??

- oh right. I had a little break between reading so I forgot he was badly hurt oops

- oh I need a visual for this - Kramer just picked up the Doctor and carried him into the house?? I imagined her as a small though stocky woman, but not nearly strong enough to carry a man described as tall (though we all know paul mcgann is not tall lol)

- This blood fasting thing isn’t permanent though is it

- I already love Sam and Eight’s relationship so much - the way he comforts her ugh my heart

- and now he’s hugging her while stirring the soup he prepared for her (or Carolyn?) ugh my heart (I say that a lot ahahah)

- Wait wasn’t there a vampire called spike on buffy as well

- Fred the Eternal Snail I’m screaming

- He was a mascot until someone stepped on him and they had to stake him with a toothpick agahdgah

- Oh god Carolyn asked the doctor if she can go with him... she really is going to die isn’t she

- Or the doctor says no but...

- aaaand his eyes are green again

- ‘I want you to take me. Uh, with you.’ In which Carolyn says what we’ve all been thinking all along

- ‘God, he did have cute eyebrows.’ Carolyn oh my god ahahaha

- oh my GOD now he’s gently running his hands through her hair to make her go to sleep aaah oh my god oh my g o d

- Oh Sam, no the doctor definitely wants you there!!!!

- THE DOCTOR HAS A BUTTERFLY ROOM AAAAAAH

- That room honestly sounds amazing (hills?? Millions of butterflies just flying around??)

- the Doctor just completely enjoying butterflies flying all around

- and then he just talks to sam and Carolyn while a moth is hanging from his nose ahahah

- Joanna don’t you DARE cut the Doctor’s beautiful locks I swear if you hurt one hair on his head and I mean that literally I will come to you when you’re sleeping and stake you right through the heart

- ‘Just so you can have him pass you test tubes and tell you how brilliant you are’ like in terror of the autons!!

- the doctor has a worried-daddy look hahaha

- “I could succeed in many things, fail in many more, but as long as I've petted the cat I've done everything that really matters.” same

- ahahaha the Doctor just caught a bat in his bare hands and then talked to it in baby talk I’m screaming “Awww,' said the Doctor, scratching the bat under the chin, 'Did the big mean owd wady fwighten you?” And they have names hahahaha Stewart and Jasper

- a Susan mention!!

- love how the doctor just counts the years since his last regeneration as how old he is hahah oh wait so sam and him have been travelling for three years?? cause he met her right after san francisco and he said it’s been three years since his last regeneration OH wait sam also said he goes travelling without her for up to a year when he gets distracted so maybe that’s why

- aaaah he sees himself as sam’s parent

- Oh actually her older brother okay

- “Real trust is as rare and precious as having a cat pay attention to you” eight is a cat person confirmed

- oh my GOD Kramer has to explain to the doctor why all the women flock around him aaah he’s such a useless baby I love him

- okaaaay so Joanna made some new human race - like in new earth

- “Get your ass off that car!' 'Whoah,' said the vampire. He got his ass off the car.”

- NOOOO what about the kittens????

- I’m screaming the Doctor has them all in his coat pockets ahahahahah

- We’re so close to the end now and the Doctor hasn’t been naked yet :(

- wait did the doctor drink or inject himself with the vamp-away???? (that’s an iconic name for it btw)

- aaaah the Doctor eating icecream and getting a chocolate moustache ahahahah

- I love how he always ruffles Sam’s hair

[a-queer-human]

genderqueer

/ˈdʒɛndəkwɪə/

adjective

adjective: gender-queer

denoting or relating to a person who does not subscribe to conventional gender distinctions but identifies with neither, both, or a combination of male and female genders."the genderqueer community”

 Over the past 10 years, I have been thinking about Gender, on and off. The only things LGBT on my TV when I was a child was Gay hosts in the closest and Paul O’Gradys drag act Lily Savage. People didn’t talk about it. When I was a teenager in upper (high) school there seemed to be a ‘craze’ of Bisexual girls not so much men, but suddenly everyone was out that way, I didn’t come out for a while, knowing for sometime I wasn’t straight, I wasn’t gay either, I didn’t have terms such as Asexual and Demi, Pan and such, and it was the age where the internet wasn’t used as much and because I didn’t know, I didn’t look for it. So as a bullied teen I told only a few people of how I identified back then. 

I thought I had to dress in a certian why and i HAD to be attractive to get through life so I tried to be as girly as I could be. not that it did anything, I still couldn’t get to grips with dresses and heels, the typical ‘femme’ style. it caused a lot of stress, a lot of wasted time trying to fit in with my peers. Things got easier when I went to collage, for a while anyway. I had some crushes I never acted on, I dressed how i wanted with less pressure and I got a job with mostly men which despite portraying myself as a girl i felt more then commutable with them. I met my best friend and I like to call my Platonic soul mate who I love in a way I cant put down. She saved me, when I wanted the world to stop and end, she was come to my house and just be there.  When I met Psy at collage and became friends with them, it felt like I was starting to find my place, I got invites to house parties and met some really great people, I even went to my first Comic-con with them, and that was opening a whole new world, because of that I met people, I met people who came out as Trans and non-binary and with these terms, with the freedom to express myself I stated to think. For many years, I thought alone with my thoughts, not sharing, now asking questions until it clicked but the self doubt I felt was bad so I didn’t fully come out. I started to experiment with my name. I didn’t want my deadname I was either Shrew or I tried Francis for sometime. I didn’t play with pronouns until I came out. I came out as Julian, I came out having conversations with a few people and It felt good. I came out as Trans and things felt lighter for a while. 

The problem with coming out, isnt so much being misgendered most days and still waiting to hear from the gender Clinic after years of waiting and not being able to afford going Private, the hard thing is people telling you HOW you should be as a man, the comments ‘ thats not very manly’ and ‘ I thought you were trying to be a man’ Why should I have to change who and how I act because the world views Cismen in such a way. So I have to conform? Do I have to tell people I am a Trans but ‘femme’ man. Of course I don’t I dont need comments of ‘ people will never see you as a man if’ How would you know? Your not me, your not Trans. 

in the past year (2018) I have struggled with myself, not only my mental health conditions but how I present myself. 

I am NOT a woman, Im not, Im not a she/her/lady I never want those pronouns, but the more I see of the LGBTQ world, the more I feel Im finding I don't really stick in the man section either. He/him/his are nice but at the same time They/them are most welcome. Does this make me an enby A male presenting Non binary? Transitioning will change my life, chest surgery and T would mean the world to me. 

I don't really get it yet, My sexual Orientation has gone through many labels and maybe my Gender Identity will as well. 

I know I need to not stress too much. but its something there.

[elitaxne]

Cue the tiny form of magenta and purple plates scrambling up to sit upon her Carrier's lap; bright cerulean hues so much like Elita's beaming up and batting in unfathomable adorableness. Usually, Cephei did such when she wanted something, which was exactly the case of her visit at this moment. "Mama, can I have a Unicorn?" Such creatures were said to be mythical, but the images found in the stories on her datapad that Papa had downloaded for her lead the tiny femmeling to think otherwise.

♔. }

      Stylus in servo and optical ridges knotted in a furrowed expression, Elita didn’t notice anything in the world outside her latest policy let alone the femmeling entering the home office. It wasn’t until the tiny form had scaled her seated one that the Councillor pulled from the data pad, blinking for the first time in what felt like HOURS.

                                                                A unicorn?

Cool cerulean met the larger pair of inherited hues staring up at her expectantly, sweet smile plastered over youthful features. Elita tilted her helm to the side, squinting ever so slightly. On this day her daughter knew something SHE didn’t, and the Councillor couldn’t be more puzzled by the request.

❝ That depends, Brightspark… ❞ the fuchsia femme began, easing back in her chair as servos steadied the youngling in her lap, ❝ … What is a unicorn? ❞

Cephei couldn’t unload the bizarre and perplexing description faster, Elita was certain of it. Mouthplates moved a mile-a-minute as miniature servos moved about at a frantic rate. The little one’s excitement alone was enough to cause Elita to smile, chuckling softly as her daughter took a ventilation, then continued. First, she outlined the parameters of what a unicorn was and their origins. Next, were the reasons why it would be a good thing for her to have. Lastly, she used weaponized cuteness, batting large cerulean optics and employing the sweet, sing-song voice that ALWAYS got Papa to do what she wanted. Mama was a bit more difficult to persuade, but, she still held to hope.

Elita and Cephei found themselves locked in a staring contest, mother and daughter searching identical coloured optics in question. The larger of the two was the first to break away, bringing the end of her stylus up to tap her chin plate in contemplation. Cephei had become far too clever for her own good, knowing EXACTLY how to appeal to each parent and how to leverage weaknesses. For Optimus, it was simply by being adorable and extra affectionate, for Elita, diplomatic. The femmeling had given a rousing speech, leaving maternal processors to mull over the options as though having heard a new policy proposal; utmost care and consideration taken.

❝ Do you know why Mama has her favourite flora Papa gave her in the special casing? ❞ Elita questioned, delicately. She couldn’t outright say no, nor could she squash her daughter’s belief in the mythical creature. Thus, she was left with two options: deflection and persuasion.

Cephei nodded, reaching for Elita’s closest servo, idly tracing a digit tip over the cool metal. ❝ ‘Cuz they can’t live here. The air hurts them, ❞ she answered, already wary of where her Carrier was going with this. Curious optics peeked back up, with a quirked ridge and scrunched faceplates, a spitting image of the Councillor if ever she saw one.

❝ Yes, that is exactly right. Organic life not from our planet like flowers, and our human friends, they cannot live here like you and I do. We have to keep them in a special box, ❞ Elita hummed, free servo reaching up to thumb over the back of her daughter’s helm. ❝ Animals, like unicorns, would have to live that way too… ❞ she trailed off, watching quite literally as the femmeling worked it out for herself.

❝ They’d hafta live in the special case? ❞ Cephei asked, voicing her conclusion out loud.

Elita nodded, ❝ Yes, they would. Cybertron’s air would hurt them if they didn’t. ❞ Thumbs made another pass over the warm magenta plating, ❝ That would not be very fun for them, would it? Living in a special casing with no where to run or play… ❞  

Cephei shook her helm in response. That didn’t sound nice at all. Unicorns were suppose to gallop over hills and play in fields, not be locked up in a glass case. Her spark pulsed heavily in its casing, it was a sad thought.

❝ I don’t want them to live like that, ❞ the femmeling mumbled, disappointment setting in she couldn’t have a unicorn like she wanted. At least, not without hurting them as Mama had explained.

The fuchsia femme hummed, folding over to press a kiss to the small helm. ❝ But, you know what we COULD do? ❞ she started, voice lifting to hint at a fun, unknown activity.

Cephei straightened, shifting atop her Carrier’s lap enthusiastically. ❝ What? ❞ she blurted, curious and eager as always.

Elita beamed, picking up the femmeling and rising to her pedes. ❝ We could make our OWN unicorn, but, we will have to be creative… ❞ the femme trailed off, as though already trying to figure out what to do. ❝ We would need a creature large enough for you to ride. Something that could live in our home. Something that has four legs… ❞ Smooth alto gave way to a contemplative hum, tinted lips pursing in the same scrunched expression Cephei had done earlier as though trying to think of a solution.

The femmeling thought as well then gasped as an idea came to mind, patting at fuchsia chestplating while bouncing in place. ❝ KAAL !! ❞ she chirped, large cerulean hues shimmering into her Carrier’s, ❝ Kaal is big e’nuff to ride, lives here, AND he has four legs !! ❞ Four digits held up as the femmeling further articulated, just in case Mama needed additional clarification: two in the front, two in the back.

Chuckling again Elita nodded her helm, optics widening in feigned surprise. ❝ Kaal! Cephei that is an excellent idea, ❞ she cooed, walking towards the office doors and slipping through to the hall. Time to wrassle the slumbering hound on the ground floor…

❝ We can make him a horn, and it can sparkle, and paint his fur… ❞ Cephei blurted the ideas out of all the things they could do to dress up the hound as a unicorn, getting more and more excited at  each new thought that popped into her processors. Elita listened with eager interest, nodding and commenting, even throwing out a few ideas to spare the cyber-pooch from too much clean-up afterwards.

                            Cephei was going to get her unicorn after all.

[le-sejour]

Fundamental Truths

Words: 1935

World: Hamiltime

Pairing: One sided Alexander x Reader

Warnings: Angst

A/N: Just wanted to project my own grief and inner turmoil in an inconspicuous manner like say fi c t io n?

Enjoy~

“A toast to the groom,” You slurred, raising a bottle of whiskey you had snatched off of your father’s stash.  “To the bride.” 

Was the room supposed to tilt this way? It almost felt like you were sinking. Nonetheless, you carried on with your speech. 

“From your best friend,” If you focused hard enough, you could almost make out their faces. “Who was always by your side…” 

You attempted to lean against a table for support but were surprised to find nothing there to brace your weight. Your inebriated self tumbled to the floor, the skirts of your gown thankfully cushioning you from the fall.

“To your union, and the hope that you provide…”  

You were still on the floor. The room spun before your eyes as you laid there. 

You weakly raised the bottle.  

“May you always be satisfied.” 

Silence greeted your words, the dark and desolate room swallowing the noise almost immediately as it left your lips. Your eyes surveyed what it could from your vantage point. There was your dresser and your window seat and your bookshelf with your little ornate box of letters… 

A strangled sob left your lips as you gingerly propped yourself up.  

You were a wreck. A mess. Your dress was soiled from the alcohol and dusty floors, your hair falling from its previously elegant bun. And, you couldn’t see it, but you knew the make up on your face was smudged and runny. Christ. Alexander would hate to see you like this. 

A beat. 

You laughed at the thought. A bitter, broken chuckle that almost bordered hysterical as your hand came up to grip your hair. 

Alexander Hamilton. 

Your mind ran through all the memories you had together, lingering on the moments his smiles and gaze were directed only to you. You almost smiled back in return. 

Then you remembered that night, that one night that has haunted you through your waking days. You squeezed your eyes shut, as if the action could somehow force your brain to stop thinking. 

That damned Winter’s ball and its prized jewels; the Schuyler Sisters. 

You stared into the bottle of whiskey again as you felt anger and helplessness rise up within you. In the dim of night, you could barely make out your reflection in the amber liquid.  

It had been a starry night, that night.  

The wind was nothing but a chilly breeze, the pure, driven snow transforming the city into a magnificently magical landscape. 

The Schuyler’s manor, in its entire splendor, was even grander than it normally was. It seemed to reflect the glittering winter wonderland outside, while still projecting an air of warmth and grandeur. A detail that deeply awed and excited the guests.

The ballroom was abuzz with the whispers of appreciation for the venue; the food was in such an appetizing display, the orchestra playing the most angelic tunes, and of course, everyone dressed to the nines in their best finery.

It was certainly one way to throw a ball.

But you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped you; earning you a few looks from the ladies you were begrudgingly standing around with. Everything about this ball was beautiful, but there was something missing.

Or, rather, someone.

“May I have the honor of sharing this dance with you, my lady?” 

Speak of the devil. 

You quickly turned away from the circle of gossipy women, a beaming smile radiating off your face as the fabric of your skirt swished and billowed around you.

“Alexander!” 

“At your service,” The Caribbean replied with a flourish of his hand. “I’d apologize for being late but you seem to be having the time of your life.” 

You rolled your eyes at his teasing. 

He, of all people, knew how uncomfortable you felt socializing with those who considered themselves “old money”.  

“It’s been awful, Alexander.” You smacked him lightly on his arm as he’s leading you onto the dance floor. “They’ve been pestering me about courtship and marriage nonstop.” 

Your partner laughed as he twirled you around. “Sounds like an interesting way to spend the night.” 

“Don’t get me started, Alex. One even told me that I’m soon past my prime for popping babies, like they were talking about the weather! The nerve!” 

The two of you spent a few songs like that, just laughing and catching up. He would lead you into graceful dips and turns, his eyes never leaving yours as you moved through the ballroom. His arms were protectively situated around your waist. 

It was perfect. The ambiance, the looks, the way he held you close to him during a particularly slow song… You couldn’t help but fall even harder for the young writer.

Your eyes found his again before noticing how close the two of you had actually gotten. It was close enough to be considered improper, but you didn’t move away. His face was so close. Too close. Almost as if you could just lean in and…

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” 

The music lulled to a softer and quieter song as a booming voice announced its presence. You and Alexander separated quickly, a crowd gathering around you.  Your cheeks burned and your lips tingled in disappointment. Were you really just about to…

Whispers drifted to your ears like a breeze. Seems like Philip Schuyler was about to introduce his daughters. He appears to be thanking everyone present but your attention was diverted to searching the crowd for the man you almost just kissed. He was suddenly gone from your side. 

“-Angelica, Elizabeth, and Margarita Schuyler!” 

The whole ballroom was thrown into a frenzy of murmurs. The Schuyler sisters were beyond stunning to look at. They seemed to float through the stairs leading into the ballroom, their whole appearance wonderfully dream-like. But you were still focused on looking for your dear Alexander. 

“If you could marry a sister, you’re rich, son.” Your ears perked up at the dialogue. While that was true, you couldn’t believe the impropriety of the scoundrel who said it. As if all there was to the sisters were their fortune.

“Is it a matter of ‘if’, Burr, or ‘which one’?” 

You stopped in your tracks as you heard the reply. You would know that voice anywhere.  

Suddenly, your whole body felt like it was doused in cold water, seized by the icy claws of dread. He wouldn’t.

You looked to where you heard the voices, your gaze zeroing in on the man you’ve pined for for years. He was talking to a looming fellow with a wolfish grin.  

You made your way to him. 

“Excusez-moi, mademoiselle.” 

You hadn’t realized it yet, but you had made the mistake of turning to face whoever was addressing you. He stood, no, towered, over you in his soldier’s regalia; a charming smile stretching his lips when you turned around. 

“Um.. yes..?”  

He held out his hand to you, a hopeful look in his sparkling brown eyes. 

“May I ‘ave this ‘onor of dancing with the most beautiful woman in the room?” 

Your face flushed red at the compliment. Of course, propriety dictated you to say yes to the man in front of you, lest you draw rumors to yourself and shame to your family. But you were still yearning to be back in someone else’s arms. 

“I-I.. um..” 

You stared at his hand before turning your head just in time to see Alexander kiss Angelica Schuyler’s hand. You felt your heart drop to your stomach. God, you were done for. 

Defeatedly, you placed your hand gingerly on top of the man’s outstretched one. 

“The honor is mine, sir.” 

“Please, call me Gilbert.” 

You laughed to yourself; suddenly back in the pitch black darkness of your room. You should have just continued on. You should have just pretended to not have heard the Frenchman. Maybe then, you could have stopped all this.

Taking a long swig from the bottle in your hands, you thought to yourself how you couldn’t have done that to Lafayette. He was a good man. He hadn’t known many people at the ball, and took a chance with asking you to dance with him. So you did. Even though you knew he could have gotten any girl to dance with him without really trying. 

He was an absolute gentleman. You had no doubt your parents would have loved him. Despite struggling to speak your language, his wit and affability was boundless as you waltzed across the room.

The Marquis ended up monopolizing you the whole night.

You didn’t mind, though the emptiness in your chest screamed otherwise. He was decent company; attentive, witty, and well-meaning. He even introduced you to his friends at one point.

And just your luck, one of them happened to be the very man you were enamored with.

“Mon ami!” Lafayette exclaimed as he lead you to Alexander, his hand sitting atop the one you had resting on his arm. “I ‘ave not seen you all night, my friend! I wanted to introduce you to cette belle femme!”

Your smile refused to reach your eyes as Alexander greeted you and informed Lafayette he did, in fact, know you.

Elizabeth Schuyler was on his arm, her face positively glowing with adoration. It didn’t take an expert to see that she was absolutely helpless for him. After all, that must’ve been how you looked like when you met him all those years ago.

You gave her a weak hello, willing to the gods your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you felt, before your respective partners lead you back onto the dance floor.

You never saw Alexander again after that night.

Not during your weekly strolls through the market, not at your porch looking for another book to borrow, not even at the local bar he loved to frequent. He just… disappeared. Weeks rolled by with no word from him, no letter. Just the old ones you hid in your little ornate box that you took to rereading.

That was, until a letter finally arrived for you in the form of an invitation to a wedding reception. You had choked back a sob, feeling dismayed. Cheated. Absolutely betrayed that your closest friend, and longest love, had gone and gotten married.

Your chest tightened and ached at the thought. It was a fundamental truth that Alexander never saw you as more than a friend. A sister, perhaps, but never the woman he would spend his life with. Raise a family with. You were smart, sharp-tongued, and rebellious. Quick-witted and determined, just like him.

You knew he saw you as an equal, but not through your merits. You were an equal, but like looking in a mirror. You were too much like him, and you supposed it was why your relationship would never have worked. He was always trying to outrun his situation, his past. Himself. And you were someone he saw himself in.

And now here you were, at home, hours before the festivities were set to cease, sniffling into a bottle of burning hard liquor instead of wishing your best friend the best in his new life. Like Angelica had done for her sister, Elizabeth, a woman filled with wit and intelligence, but also patience and compassion. A perfect match for your Alexander.

“And I know,” You whispered to yourself, imagining their ongoing celebration with a heavy heart. Wishing for once that you could swap truths with lies for once. “She’ll be happy as his bride.”

“And I know,” Your heart splintered and cracked, your voice breaking as another sob ripped through you. “He will never be satisfied.”

“I will never be satisfied.”

[gabriella-lost-in-the-big-city]

Say My Name... Say My Name (9/13/17)

As a trans-Latinx woman or TLW, as I will refer to myself from now on, coming up with a name that aligned with my new-found gender identity and eventually legalizing it meant the world to me. The story behind my birth name is not some drawn out story of trial or debate, or anything worth wild. It begins with a faint memory (which I have yet to fact check) of my mother stating that she always like the name Gabriella and that if she had a girl with my father that is what she would have named her. I do not remember if I ever thought about going with other names, Gabriella just always seemed to fit just right with me, as if I was always meant to be her (which eventually I knew was the truth). Focusing on my use of my mother’s favorite name for a baby girl for my name could be seen as an attempt to try fit into the empty space in my mom’s heart, mind, and soul of the potential to have a baby girl. In hindsight, she did have a daughter with my father (me, if it was not already obvious) and so me choosing to be Gabriella was just affirming that – not that I think my mother or father would ever see it that way. My middle name was kind of just a random encounter on the internet, much like many (all) of my intimate interactions with the men in my life, I had googled Hispanic/Latin baby names and for some reason Josephine called out to me. And so one faithful day in the study lounge of an NYU Dorm during my freshman year of nursing school, I unofficially/officially became Gabriella Josephine Bolanos with the support of my closest friends. Ever since that day, I have had no regrets or doubts that I was nothing but that person. Despite my roots in Central American culture (my parents being from El Salvador), I chose to spell my name the more American/Italian way of Gabriella instead of the Latin way Gabriela or Josephine instead of Josefine/Josfina. I am proud to be a Latinx woman, but in all honesty, I don’t have strong ties with my heritage. I was born and raised speaking English in the US, El Salvador was just this homeland that my family talked about here and there, but nothing I had any personal connections to (a post about my ethnic identity will be coming eventually). When I first discovered my new identity as Gabriella, some friends began to call me Gabby, not that I asked them to since I was not completely out as trans, but regardless made me feel secure in who I was. I began going as Gabby on Facebook for a while during my freshman year of college around the same time I dabbled in cross-dressing and makeup (a rough time compared to now). However, Gabriella was soon stripped away from me when freshman year came to an end. I moved back to my grams two-bedroom basement apartment in order to commute for the next X amount of years to save money on room and board. I was not out to may family and so I spent the next year and a half living my true life behind closed does (funny, because I actually slept in my grams living room for those 1.5 years with no door to close). My safe haven was our run down bathroom where I was able to play with makeup and women’s clothing and actually be Gabriella. Despite taking steps backward in my transition and essentially going back into the closet, I made the decision after a night of too many “cosmos” and Sex and the City episodes, to once again regain my place as Gabriella Josephine Bolanos on social media, and I have never not been her ever since. I eventually came out to my family as trans in a dramatic and emotional outburst after returning from a party where I got totally wasted, burned myself with a cigarette on my left wrist (my go-to form of self harm back then), got punched in the face by some guy that was sort of flirting with me, and losing my glasses. Although there was probably a healthier way to come out to my family, this unfortunate/fortunate event brought me closer to being Gabby once again. Fast forward to the summer of 2017 where after surviving what was probably the hardest thing I had to endure as a trans woman professionally in the closet (my externship at NYU Orthopedics Hospital – which we will also discuss at a later time), I finally legally became Gabriella Josephine Bolanos on August 16th, 2017.

Fast forwarding again to the present day, despite accomplishing what I thought was the biggest battle (the name change), having everyone around me get used to the whole name change was a whole other war to accomplish. For many of many of my friends, the name change was just affirmation of something they had knew for the past 3 years. However, for most, my name change and my reveal of being transgender seemed like calculus – incomprehensible. I soon returned to my job at NYUOH three weeks after my externship ended where I spent two months pretending that I did not go by Gabby and that I was trans. I’m still debating whether or not going back to the hospital was a great idea for my sanity, but it’s the choice I have to live with. I managed to get a new name badge with my new legal name (despite them spelling my last name wrong on it) and quickly began submitting my name change through NYU’s HR. However, unlike my experience with NYU the actual college were my transition to Gabriella was quick, easy, and tangible across all areas of the university, the hospital system is still taking its sweet old time to fully cover up my past. Now when I clock in it says Gabriella, but when I log on to the charting program or the job portal, it still has my old name on them – which makes for very awkward situations when I begin my shift and everyone is confused why the assignment says Gabriella but the patient’s chart says Justin is assigned to them. It’s these awkward situations where I have to reveal my identity as a trans women and that is something I HATE doing (which is evidently obvious according to one nurse I have encountered). To make matters worst, my friendly façade and work ethic during my externship allowed me to become friends with the various staff members at NYUOH which on my return to work, greeted me with the name Justin that I so HATE over and over again. Despite have a new name badge that clearly says Gabriella on my uniform, people still chose to call me Justin which made that first week back sooooo enjoyable. I eventually had to have the awkward conversations with many of these individuals who remembered me from the summer to let them know that I now go by Gabriella and I go by she/her/hers pronouns. However, another problem I am now facing is that some of these individuals I try to educate on my trans-ness still make the effort to call me Justin and He instead of what they should be calling me – despite my attempts to be a little more femme: have my long curls down and my face beat for my patients. Even some of the new people that I have never met before and only know me as Gabby, still would refer to me as a man, I guess because of my not so femme voice (again according to one nurse). For the longest time I was used to being called Justin and being referred to as a man, despite knowing I was trans and had a gender affirming name to go by, but now this repeated negligence of my right as a trans human being (being called Justin instead of Gabby, and being referred to as he instead of she) reminds me that maybe I’ll never be the woman I strive to be/that I am. I’ll never be seen as the woman I see everyday looking right back at me in the mirror. And with this point I end my first serious post of being me, a TLW named Gabriella Josephine Bolanos.

 - G

[alvizbeldamarcos]

Bi, Bi, Bi: Bisexual Invisibility in the Philippines

by Jessica Alviz

History and Background

Bi Flags at the NYC Pride March from Medium

In this more progressive world, people are increasingly letting go of traditionalist views and accepting that the world is not in black and white: Caucasians are no longer deemed as the superior race, it is now relatively acceptable for boys to wear skirts and makeup, and girls who like girls and boys who like boys? Completely normal. However, the world isn’t as pleasant for those who like both. Until today, bisexual erasure and invisibility remains a problem. Bisexual erasure is when “the existence or legitimacy  of bisexuality (either in general or in regard to an individual) is questioned or denied outright” (GLAAD, 2014). Bisexuals have described their experience as being neither here nor there, as they are attracted to more than one gender. Others—whether they are heterosexual or from the LGBTQ+ community themselves—have thought that bisexuals are either not straight enough to be gay, or not gay enough to be straight. A bisexual has narrated about this cognitive dissonance in Bisexual Blues (Hase, 2005) stating that she finds it easier to define her sexuality through the people that she dates, and because she is dating a man, she feels as if she does not belong in the LGBTQ+ community, because she is deemed as “straight.” She mentioned that she “feels as though she has to exchange an entire community to be with one person.” Furthermore, bisexuality is commonly described as a “phase” for people before fully discovering that they are actually either gay or lesbian (San Francisco Human Rights Commission, 2011). Some even believe that bisexuals are actually just heterosexuals who are experimenting with their sexuality (Serano, 2010).

The marginalization of bisexuals within the LGBTQ+ community is not new: during the first LGBTQ+ movements, bisexuals were excluded because they were being accused of “reinforcing the gender binary” (Serano, 2010). Serano states that this discrimination is not surprising. Because bisexuals can be attracted to the opposite gender, homosexuals find the existence of bisexuals threatening to their own identity. This is due to the heteronormative notion of homosexuality being phase and the notion that homosexuals can become straight if they try. This also explains why bisexuals are accepted only conditionally in the LGBTQ+ community. For instance, if a bisexual man is in a relationship with another man, he is included in the community. However, once that bisexual man dates a woman, especially if this woman is cisgender (identifies as the gender they were assigned to at birth), the man would be ostracized and marginalized.    

Philippine Context

Although the LGBTQ+ community is slowly getting more recognition in the country, bisexuals remain invisible. This is most probably due to the following reasons: first, majority of Filipinos hold traditional and conservative views rooted in the teachings of the Catholic Church. Second, the Philippines has its own cultural perceptions about the LGBTQ+ community.

Homophobia is not as widespread or intense as one would expect of a predominantly Catholic country. However, Christian views on homosexuality remain almost adamant. After all, in theory, Catholics believe that following the Church’s teachings is key to being a good member of their religion, and the Church portrays homosexuality as something immoral. Sharing the Bible’s heteronormative outlook and existing gender order, the Church views homosexuality as an ethical concern, a medical condition, and/or a sexual misidentity (Joaquin, 2014). Though homosexuals are not outright excommunicated from the Church, they are discouraged from acting on their homosexual desires. Homosexuality is treated as something that needs to be corrected or cured, and the Church uses prayers, sacraments, celibacy, and guilt in order to “fix” a person’s homosexuality. And because bisexuality, in simplest terms, can be understood as being straight and gay at the same time, of course believers of the Catholic Church would urge bisexuals to “turn” heterosexual.

Vice Ganda from ABS-CBN

With the Church’s dominant ideologies of heteronormativity, as well as the Western dichotomous view on gender and sexuality brought about by the Spaniards (de Jong, 2017), there is a good amount of cultural shame linked to being homosexual in the Philippines. In the first place, there are no Filipino terms for “sexuality,” nor categories for sexual orientation (Ceperiano, Santos Jr., Alonzo, & Ofreneo, 2016). There are only street words--which might even be considered as derogatory--to describe such categories, because homosexuality is not talked about at all (Joaquin, 2014). Furthermore, the concepts of sexuality and gender are merged. While the Westerners’ concept of a gay man is a man who is sexually attracted to other men, it is not quite the same for Filipinos. In the Philippines, the closest local term for “gay” is bakla, which is an effeminate man attracted to other men (de Jong, 2017). The bakla is even often described as “having a woman’s heart stuck in a man’s body,” a representation much closer to the Western concept of a transgender rather than a gay man. The concept of bakla is also heavily attached to certain stereotypes, most of which come from mainstream media (Justiniani & Sierras, 2015). Typically, the bakla is portrayed as a man who dresses and acts like a woman, a flamboyant and theatrical man, or comic relief.  This entertainment factor of a bakla--seen also in the most prominent bakla figure in the Philippines, comedian Vice Ganda--is perhaps one of the reasons why they are tolerated in the society.

The Philippine concept of a lesbian is also mixed with gender expression. The local term for this is tomboy, which, from the name itself, is also attached to the image of a masculine woman (Tiempo, n.d.). A tomboy is characterized by being boyish, tough, and manly, with cross-dressing as a major feature of their personality. Compared to the bakla, they are not as present in Philippine media.

Butch (Masculine Lesbian) and Femme (Feminine Lesbian) Wedding Picture from Pinterest

Given these, the only Philippine concepts for gays and lesbians are stereotypes. Once they act outside of these societal expectations, they are not considered socially acceptable. This is also possibly due to the heteronormative beliefs that the country has. Heteronormativity is the concept in which heterosexuality is the norm and homosexuality is deviant (Joaquin, 2014). To justify homosexual relationships, the Philippines has attached gender to sexuality. This enables homosexual relationships to fit into a heteronormative standard: because the bakla is effeminate, and the tomboy is masculine, the concept of a man and a woman in a relationship still exists if the bakla or tomboy’s partner is of the opposite gender expression.

Since Philippine homosexuals are subjected to this stereotyping, it is only natural for those that lie in between the homo-hetero spectrum to be the same. The Philippines already has misconceptions about homosexuals themselves--what more for bisexuals, those who love both? They have no concept of this at all, evident in how there is general confusion about who Filipinos perceive as bisexual (Tan, 1996). Sometimes, gay men identify as bisexual even though they are only attracted to men to indicate that they are the “straight-acting” type of gay. Bisexuality is not a concept written into Filipino language and culture. An example of bi-invisibility is in the following passage:

Sam (24 years old, F): Sam’s mother, upon hearing about how her boyfriend sexually abused Sam, told Sam that her boyfriend would not harass a “lesbian” like Sam even though Sam explicitly came out to her as bisexual. Sam’s friends also ask her questions like “Why can’t [you] just date a guy” and “Why can’t [you] just date a girl?” (International Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission, 2015), implying that they only consider “lesbian” and “straight” as the legitimate sexual orientations.

There is also a lack of research about bisexuals in the Philippines, as seen in how  there is a lack of data and respondents in interviews (Rainbow Rights Project, 2014). Available research is primarily about gays or lesbians. To make up for the lack of available research, short interviews were conducted with teenage Filipino bisexuals. The questions in the interview mainly focused on perceptions about being bisexual,  bisexual acceptance, and bisexual visibility.

Several of the respondents mentioned that there have been times when their bisexuality was accused of being a phase, or otherwise an illegitimate sexuality. A participant said that when she came out to her peers, they did not believe her at first, as she had only ever talked about her male crushes around them. They even accused her of only calling herself bisexual for the sake of being trendy, as she mentioned her sexuality when “coming out videos” were popular. Another participant, who came from an all-girls high school, mentioned that when she talked about her female crushes, her friends would merely laugh along but insist that it was merely a phase and that she would become more attracted to men in college.

A respondent mentioned that due to the notion of bisexuality being a phase, she herself found it difficult to accept her sexuality:

My acceptance of my bisexuality was difficult because I feared it would mean that my identity up until that point would be rendered invalid. So in the past, when people were doubtful about my sexuality, it was because people didn’t think I was gay, and it made me very conflicted because I had a feeling they were somewhat right. Deep inside, I still feel like it’s a bit of a loss that I accepted being bisexual, and that currently I’m dating a guy. But I always tell myself that my sexuality is a part of a spectrum, and that I don’t have to prove myself to anyone. I understand my sexuality, and that is enough.

Again, it can be seen that there is cognitive dissonance: this bisexual is defining her sexuality through external factors, i.e. the person that she is currently attracted to at the time. There is confusion because of the false sexuality binary that was socially constructed by people, leading them to believe that one can only either be gay or straight.

As for the visibility of bisexuality in general, the respondents agree that it is not acknowledged much. One respondent mentioned that most people are skeptical about bisexuality, often saying that it is not a legitimate sexual orientation and that bisexuals are merely “confused” about their “real” sexuality. Another participant said that she feels that bisexuals are not represented enough in media--the LGBTQ+ community in general is underrepresented, but she mentions that compared to the more “definite” sexualities of gays and lesbians, bisexuals are barely seen on television and film. A third respondent lamented the extreme underrepresentation of bisexuals. She said that even in a school as liberal as the University of the Philippines, being heterosexual is the norm (it is a co-ed school after all). She also mentioned the situation of the LGBTQ+ people: “If people are gay, they either represent a spectacle or the movement. There’s no in-between region for bisexual people, we’re not defined by a certain institution [and] not even by a stereotype.”

The participants had differing views about the situation of bisexuals in the Philippines. When asked if bisexuality is accepted or at least acknowledged in the Philippines, a respondent mentioned that it is acknowledged but not accepted. She blames on the patriarchal and traditionalist values that majority of the country hold. Another participant agreed with this, saying that it is not accepted, though she says this is mostly due to Catholicism. She also said that it is mostly the older generations that do not tolerate it; most of the youth are more accepting towards bisexuality, which she correlates with awareness gained from social media as well as general open-mindedness. A third also shares this sentiment, saying that acceptance of the LGBTQ+ community in general is conditional: “ I have noticed the trend wherein we need to be beneficial for straight people for them to accept us. Our LGBT members to compensate more by being funny or being the fun friend.” This is in line with the aforementioned “entertainment factor” that is promoted by Vice Ganda.

One participant, however, says that bisexuality is not acknowledged at all: bisexuality is hardly a topic even in gay organizations, and bisexual representation in pride marches is minimal. She says that in general, people are unable to comprehend bisexuality, as they believe that it is merely a sexuality used as a label for justifying promiscuity. Another respondent echoes this:

Bisexuality is not entirely accepted. In my opinion, many don’t even understand what it means. The culture in the Philippines towards LGBTQ+ is more tolerant than accepting, and this leads to ignorance or apathy towards the community. Here, mostly gays and lesbians are the emphasized and known orientations, and this selective knowledge begets ignorance towards the feelings towards bisexuals, which may affect one’s perceptions about validity.

Bi the way, we exist | Viet Vu from Youtube

Conclusion

The fight is not quite over yet. Despite the LGBTQ+ community's growing acceptance, they remain marginalized in society, having to fit into the expectations that Philippine culture imposes on them. Furthermore, with only the recognition and focus on gays and lesbians, the “singular” sexual orientations, other sexual preferences are left in the dark, particularly bisexuality.

Because of the heteronormative and dichotomous view on gender and sexuality, bisexuality is, if not ignored, misunderstood. It is not seen as a valid sexual orientation and is typically accused of being an excuse for promiscuity, a confused sexuality, or the stepping stone to being “fully gay.” The Philippines still has a long way to go before everyone becomes truly free. I am unsure if will be around to see it, but as someone who also loves regardless of gender, I will gladly join the fight.

References

de Jong, A. (2017, February 15). Bakla. The creation of a Philippine gay-identity. Retrieved from https://www.academia.edu/5155866/Bakla._The_creation_of_a_Philippine_gay-identity.

GLAAD. (2014, September 19). Erasure of Bisexuality. Retrieved from GLAAD: https://www.glaad.org/bisexual/bierasure

Hase, M. (2005, November-December). Bisexual Blues. Off Our Backs, pp. 18-19.

Joaquin, A. (2014). Carrying the Cross: Being Gay , Catholic , and Filipino. Sociology and Anthropology Student Union Undergraduate Journal. 1 (2014). 17-28. Retrieved from http://summit.sfu.ca/item/15203.

Justiniani, B., & Sierras, N. (2015, August 13). Has love really won? Retrieved from The Lasallian: http://thelasallian.com/2015/08/13/has-love-really-won/.

Serano, J. (2010, October 9). Bisexuality does not reinforce the gender binary. Retrieved from The Scavenger: http://www.thescavenger.net/sex-gender-sexual-diversity/glb-diversity/467-bisexuality-does-not-reinforce-the-gender-binary-39675.html.

San Francisco Human Rights Commission. (2011, March). Bisexual Invisibility: Impacts and Recommendations. Retrieved from San Francisco Human Rights: https://sf-hrc.org/Modules/ShowDocument.aspx?documentid=989

Tiempo, J.M. (n.d.) Descriptive analysis on the portrayal of gays and lesbians in Filipino films since 1985-2015. Retrieved from https://www.academia.edu/29636048/Descriptive_analysis_on_the_portrayal_of_gays_and_lesbians_in_Filipino_films_since_1985-2015.

[adleryoung]

"I am not interested in any of your shadowy dealings," I sulked.  "It was the Sisterhood that got me into my present predicament."

"Somehow I don't think the Sisterhood is responsible for you being dressed like a sacrificial maiden," Alice scoffed.  "Perhaps there is something you'd like to confess?"

"You looked much cuter as Relda Fauxfox," Mara quipped around a mouthful of ham.

"Huh?" Fifi asked from the doorway.

"By Fuma, there's two of them," Alice observed as she took another bite of her sandwich.

"You do realize you're eating lowfolk ham, right?" I sneered.  "You've got a lot of nerve, barging in here uninvited and abusing my hospitality."

"But you are honor bound to offer hospitality to travelers," Mara pointed out.

"You call this hospitality?" the rat piped up.  "There isn't even any mustard!"

"Aren't you that rat I met in prison?" I asked.  "And are you wearing the Scuti I took from the SALVs' laboratory?"

"My host and I made a little deal with the Marshal," the rat sneered.

"I just know I'm going to regret asking this," I sighed.  "But how did the Queen get pregnant so quickly?"

"It's been several weeks since you left," Alice explained.  "Temporal slippage with all the Gates you used to get here."

"Okay, I'll abbreviate my question to:  How did she get pregnant?"

"A certain gem and a certain Scuti got together with a certain royal ungulate, who got together with a certain skunk for an evening of certain venery," the rat grinned.

I stared at him for several seconds as I intently willed myself not to visualize the scene he was hinting at.  "And what is she pregnant with, exactly?" I finally managed to say.

"Nobody knows for certain yet," Alice explained.  "It would be best if the child is not a skunk, though even in that case it should not matter, since Estmere is not an elf and has no right to the throne.  His heir has no claim."

"Nope, not talking about that any more," I grumbled, shaking my head.  "I am going on the back porch to change clothes.  No peeking!"

"Nice decor," Alice said as she admired the Vulpitanian posters.  "I assume you chose these?  They are very period-appropriate."

"Oh yeah, like, fer sure," Fifi giggled.  "Isn't Young Monocled Patriot just the best?"

"He certainly is," Alice nodded.  "Oh hey," she added, as Gertrude lugged Jack into the Station and laid him on the floor.  "Is that a Scuti Activated Locomobile Vehicle?  May I take a look?"

"Hmm," Alice mused as she inspected Jack.  "This is a very old model, built by Redbough back before the Antglade rebellion.  It has had a lot of unauthorized work done to it .. I think it may have originally been meant to be female.  Its Identify Friend slot has a homemade wooden card shoved in it, with 'George' written along the edge.  Who's George?  And its volume control has been set to maximum.  I can fix that for you, if you'd like.  Uh-oh, its Discombobulator array is damaged.  You'll need to find a replacement.  Hello, what's this?  A magick capacitor for brief excursions into lowfolk territory!  Now that's a handy thing to have!"

"I'm very concerned that the Duchess of Daisies has such a machine, and possibly others like it, in her possession," I declared as I stepped back into the room.

"Fuma's Whiskers!" Gertrude exclaimed.  "You're a male!!  How could one as elfly and handsome as yourself pass so convincingly as a maiden?  You must truly be a master of disguise!"

"Ummm, okay," I said hesitantly.  "Thanks for that compliment, I guess.  But as I was saying, I'm concerned.  Lifelike automata were outlawed throughout the Empire by my grandfather, Adler the Prudent."

"This would have been built long before that edict was passed," Alice pointed out.  "Plus there are numerous loopholes, if the automaton can be made to be easily distinguishable from a real elf.  One can build it without a tail, for example, or give it the form of an imaginary creature like a jackalope."

"I've always wanted to drive one of those things," the rat murmured dreamily.  "Maybe its memory core contains information I could retrieve.  Once we get it operational, let me pilot it, and I think my host may have something of value to tell you."

"Oooh, can I tease it out of him slowly with a knife and a fistful of straight pins?" Burnside squealed excitedly.

"I'm concerned not only about the automaton," I scolded, "but also by your appalling behavior, Attache Burnside!  How could you be so vicious?  Surely you don't carry on like that at home?"

"Whenever I was bad, my lowfolk pappy locked me in a box," Burnside growled sullenly.  "As you can see, it didn't do much to improve my attitude.  I wouldn't suggest you try it.  Confined spaces make me go completely berserk."

"You mean, you weren't berserk in the woods earlier?"

"Nope.  I was having fun."

"How did you know Jack had a Discombobulator?"  I asked, after taking a moment to digest her previous statement.

"I've seen him around Antglade Station a few times, and I knew what he was."

"HEY!  What kind of demons art thou?" the lowfolk maiden suddenly yelled.  "These are not the exquisite torments of the Netherhells!  Art thou going to stand around talking for all eternity?  I should have been violated repeatedly by now!  Breaker of Winds!  Where is thy bed?  Take me thither and do thy savage duty upon me!"

"Hey, back off, buckteeth!" Fifi snapped.  "I like totally had dibs on him before you ever even knew he existed!"

"Bah!  Be not so greedy!  Thou hast lain in his unholy embrace since time began, Frost-Biter!"

"I haven't!  Like not even once!  No way I'm letting you get it before I do!"

"I am his Imperial Court-Appointed Floozy," Thomson interjected.  "Both of you must defer to me."

"Tough luck for all of you," Burnside snarled as she bit into the maiden's leg.  "But I'm the Prince's Diplomatic Attache, and it is my duty to stay closest to him at all times."

"I just need to keep the maiden intact for the Duchess's collection team," Gertrude insisted.  "Careful, there.  Don't make me have to hurt you."

"What are you doing?" Alice asked as Mara raised her fists and slowly approached the scuffle.  "You don't have any stake in this."

"My host body has experienced the Prince's magick touch," Mara explained through clenched teeth.  "Even though I know better .. the craving is .. nigh irresistible .. just to be close to him for a while .. with no distractions .. couldn't hurt .."

This was too much foolishness for me to tolerate.  I lunged across the desk and yanked the hatchet out of the previous Border Agent's skull.  Immediately the air was rent by a loud, piercing, unearthly scream.

"TAKE IT OUTSIDE, LADIES," I yelled.  "Settle the sleeping arrangements however you like, but the hammock is MINE, and mine alone!"

The femmes all rushed out the back door, and I replaced the hatchet.  The night was suddenly still - unsettlingly still.

I peeked out the doorway to see why everyone had gotten so quiet.

Duchess Catherine O'Daisies sashayed up the porch steps, with a large clay jug slung over her shoulder.  Gertrude bowed her head reverently.  Burnside did a ladylike little curtsey and muttered "Your Grace."  The other femmes huddled nervously against the railing at the far edges of the porch.

"Adler, honey," the Duchess sighed musically, "I just heard the news from Albric Tor, and I figured I'd better stop on by.  I brung a jug of Usquebaugh to help us think, cuz you 'n me's got a lotta plannin' to do.  Oh, and in case y'all was wonderin' .. what y'all was tusslin' about a minute ago?  Seein' as Adler's a diplomatic representative, he's gotta be extra neighborly to the Antglade, meanin' the one he snuggles up with at night has gotta be either me, or my duly appointed proxy, lil' ol' Miss Burnside.  Take your pick, Adler honey."

[jillmckenzie1]

Gender Equality Mechanics–Bikes Together

I may not believe in God, per se… but I do believe in bikes.

I used to be an ardent believer in God until, through what I suspect are very common experiences, I came to understand that the attributes assigned to God by mainstream theologies could not, by any sound logic, coincide in the same entity. I suppose this is where that notorious “leap of faith” comes in, but instead of leaping, I chose to quit believing and then started having a lot more fun. I quit believing in the mainstream interpretation of God, that is. What I switched to is the understanding that what religions offers humans is the spirit of community and a network of caring and support. What G/gods there may be, they lie within and between us.

Bikes are a splendid example of a thing that unites a community and offers a network of caring and support. Cities that plan and build for bicycle transit have a higher quality of life. People that ride bikes are happier than those that don’t. Bikes are the closest thing we can get to human-powered flight. This last statement is subjective, but I stand by it. Bikes are not God per se, but they are goddamned fun!

This premise might come across as a bit hokey; clearly, bikes are not omniscient deities. But I really do believe in the power of bikes to do really important things in the world. For example, bikes are a major point in feminist history. They changed the world for women by:

Giving women a freedom of movement that they didn’t have before. Before bikes, if you wanted to go somewhere, you either walked or you hitched up your horse and buggy. Horses and buggies being very expensive to acquire and maintain and very physically demanding to handle, most women didn’t go places.

Giving women privacy in their movements. Bikes lent themselves to cheaply and quickly going long distances without a chaperone, so that women could do God-knows-what with God-knows-whom.

Spurring clothing reform and releasing women from the prisons of corsets and mandatory sartorial haystacks. It’s hard to bike in a corset. I’ve tried.

Normalizing women’s athletics. Bikes required women to physically exert themselves in public and to set their delicate lady parts down on a phallic-shaped bicycle seat. *insert matronly pearl-clutching*

In an interesting side note, because of all these points, bikes were very sexualized. There’s a long and lovely history of bicycle-themed pornography and advertisements for bikes featuring scantily clad women and women in scenarios of sexual implication, which was tremendously forward for its time. Bikes changed the world for women. I love them for that.

They still change the world. We modern folks contribute enormous amounts of our time to the quasi-religious devotions of commuting and computing. We lose track of being outside, even in the splendor of Colorado. Bikes return us to the outdoors. I love biking in “adverse weather” and feeling the rain, wind, and even snow on my body. It reminds me that I’m an animal on this planet and the protections of the built environment are only ephemeral privileges. When I’m old, I want to look back and say, “When I was young, I biked in the rain.”

Bikes also connect us with our communities. Cars isolate us in mechanical bubbles, unable to interact with others. Bikes keep us in immediate contact with other people moving through the environment. I can talk to my neighbor as I roll by on my bike. She thinks I’m crazy, but I wouldn’t know that if I never talked to her, would I?

I make an effort to contribute to my small, local bike shops rather than larger chains because I really do believe in this cycle-based community. Randy’s Recycled Cycles and Totem Cyclery, as well as Velowood Cyclery, are all great, independent shops. The one I really want to encourage you to connect with though is Bikes Together. Bikes Together (formerly the Park Hill Bike Depot) is a non-profit devoted to promoting a better Denver through bicycles. Which is a pretty sweet mission statement, eh?

Bikes Together has two locations. I stumbled across the Park Hill location a few years ago and immediately loved them. They’ve got a big, open shop with a friendly storefront and a full-service mechanic area. The other location is in Mariposa, with a similar set-up and some rockin’ bike parking spaces out front. What makes them different from other bike shops in town is their focus on getting bikes to people who need them. Getting kids onto bikes is a particular delight for them. They’ve got a program called the Bike Rodeo which connects low-income kids to a bicycle education and safety class and a free bike. They’ve also got two week-long bicycle summer camps for youths. If you’re not a youth anymore, they also have programs to buy or earn an affordable bike. These people really do act out their conviction that bikes are important! If you don’t know how to fix or maintain your bike, they have classes and open shop time for you to learn from experts and practice on your own bike, tools and bike stands provided. You can come in cold turkey, having never turned a wrench in your life and only being vaguely sure of how many wheels a bike should have, and they’ll teach you how to fix whatever problem your bike’s got.

Here’s the bit that really sold me on Bikes Together: They offer bike mechanic education programs specifically for women and marginalized folks. Bicycles changed the world for women and Bikes Together is continuing that powerful tradition. They’re called GEM nights, “Gender Equality Mechanics,” and they’re specially for women, trans folks of all kinds, girls, gender non-conforming folks, and “femmes of all stripes.” I’ve walked into many bike shops around the country and I can count on one hand the number of female mechanics I’ve seen. Let’s teach women/femmes to take charge of our own bikes! Cycling is hard for women. We’re held to a different standard of appearance and behavior, which is hard to maintain on a bike. Sweating while female is frowned upon. Women’s clothing can be tricky to manage on a bike. Carrying large packs with changes of clothes and a helmet adds another layer of difficulty to manage in the workplace or even a recreational gathering. We get catcalled and harassed. (I’ve anecdotally noted that I get at least twice as many harassing comments when I bicycle commute in a skirt or dress than when I cycle in pants (that whole a-woman-on-a-bike-is-sexualized thing from the early advertisements hasn’t gone away). Let’s all of us GEM-worthy people get together and support each other and our right to cycle!

One last thing: you can support this amazing program by patronizing their shops, volunteering your time, or financially donating to them. One quick and easy way I’ve found is to set them up as my Amazon Smile beneficiary. Amazon Smile is a Jeff Bezos’ program that donates a portion of your Amazon purchase amounts to the charity of your choice. “Park Hill Bike Depot” (Bikes Together’s former name) is an option. Check it out and support your local cycling community! You may even find that the endorphin high from supporting your community and/or cycling to the top of Lookout Mountain feels an awful lot like a religious experience.

from Blog https://ondenver.com/gender-equality-mechanics-bikes-together/

[comfy-precision]

It's Christmas, Carol! (2012)

Plot Summary:

Carol Huffler is the ruthless president of Springwood Publishing. On Christmas Eve, she's visited by the spirit of her deceased mentor and business partner, Eve Mailer.

Eve shows Carol past events that influenced her perspective and the course of her life, her impact on the people around her, and the possible future consequences of her actions.

This causes Carol to re-evaluate her priorities. She wakes the next morning and begins preparing a better future for herself and others. In the process, she pleases her co-workers, her mother, and her ex-boyfriend Ben. Ben and Carol agree to resume their relationship.

Unfortunate Irony Alert:

The ghost of Carol's deceased business partner Eve is played by Carrie Fisher, who has since passed away in real life.

Festive Name Alert:

True to its title, It's Christmas, Carol! is about a woman named Carol.

Less expected but still quite on the nose, Carol is visited on Christmas Eve by the ghost of a woman named "Eve."

Christmas-Hating Protagonist:

Carol snubs a Salvation Army-like volunteer dressed as Santa Claus in her introductory scene, a common indicator that a Christmas movie character needs a lesson in generosity and holiday cheer.

Boss-Shaming:

Carol's last name is "Huffler," which could be a reference to the word "huffy," which Webster defines as "easily offended," typing Carol as a boss who is unfair as well as unpleasant. But I guess that's still subtler than naming her any variation on "Scrooge."

In a possible vision of her future, Eve explains that several of Carol's employees leave to form a new company and she fires them all, establishing her as a "woman to be feared" but further isolating her from other people. The message is clear: It's more important for a woman to be liked than successful.

Literally Literary:

Carol isn't just mean, and disliked for resisting unfair expectations. She's also a bit literal minded.  Early into the film, Carol is told, "Good morning" and she replies, "We'll see."

Carol later rejects a new manuscript submitted by her classics editor Tanya. I believe the point is to suggest that if a classics editor likes a new book, it must be as good as the classics, and that Carol doesn't trust the judgement of her employees. But seriously, isn't there an editor of new fiction that Tanya could have forwarded this manuscript to, instead of going straight to Carol? It's not clear that that was necessary.

Everyday I Write the Book:

Carol is given the manuscript of a novel written by a former partner that was inspired by their breakup. If that sounds like it could be unpleasant, you're not alone: the film shares that premise with the 2016 "psychological thriller" Nocturnal Animals.

It's almost worse for Carol, because the female protagonist of Nocturnal Animals is given her manuscript on a personal basis. Carol, on the other hand, is given her ex-boyfriend's manuscript by one of her employees, and pressured to publish it based strictly on its artistic merit. It's never suggested that Carol might have a valid personal reason to reject the novel based on its author and subject matter.

We Don't Need No Education:

Carol is supposed to be very literate, but not because she went to great schools. Rather, it was because there was no one to look after her while her single mother was working, so Carol was given books to keep her still and quiet while hanging around her mother's workplace.

Hallmark's World of Business:

It's not entirely clear how Carol's company, Springwood Publishing, went from a small, prestigious publisher with "integrity" into the book publisher with "the largest market share," or how that only happened because Carol wanted it to.

It's clear that because her mother was poor and needed to work constantly, Carol learned an unhealthy work ethic and came to associate money with safety. But Carol maintains that she focused on generating profit for Springwood because it went into debt under Eve's control. Eve's spirit does not dispute this. She seems to imply it would be better for her business to close than survive by sacrificing its artistic ideals, but also that failing to provide generously for the employees would be a similar betrayal of her vision.

So what was the source of this debt that existed under Eve's management, and what was Carol supposed to do about it? Hallmark movies seems to think the private sector should operate on the honor system; an unwritten code of common decency, enforced not by laws or bureaucrats but a "pay it forward" mentality.

Multiple characters insist that Carol's company should not publish books that "can be sold" but books that "should be read." Just as Hallmark movies suggest that businesses should be expected but not required to care for their employees, businesses are likewise expected to reward their customers' blind loyalty by enriching them, rather than condescending to them or recklessly indulging them.

The Cultural Loop:

Carol throws a Christmas party, gives her employees Christmas bonuses and a Christmas vacation at the same time that she institutes "profit sharing" and "full benefits" (presumably healthcare and paid leave).

As with Christmas-hating characters refusing to donate money to charity volunteers dressed as Santa Claus, Christmas movies often associate celebrating Christmas with practicing charity, and charity with employee benefits. I guess because employers should never be obligated by law to provide things like paid vacation time and health care. They should only be obligated by the kindness of their hearts.

In this way, Christmas movies not-so-subtly position religion and cultural unity as important parts of a benevolent, compassionate society. Because employee benefits are only given willingly by bosses who celebrate Christmas. The question of whether this is a choice employers should be allowed to make in the first place is not raised.

Unusually Direct Reference to Other Holidays:

At the end of the film, Carol uses a landline phone(???) to call an operator(!?) to ask what day it is. She wishes the operator a Merry Christmas, then apologizes and says, "Happy Hanukkah."

Subordinate Persons of Color:

There are two significant characters of color in this movie, and as usual, both of them are in subordinate positions in relation to white characters.

First and foremost is Kendra, Carol's "right hand woman." Even though Kendra claims she is "Senior Editor" and "second in command" at what appears to be a rather large company, in effect she is Carol's assistant. Kendra even manages Carol's personal life without specific instruction, sending flowers to an employee whose husband passed away and a Christmas present to Carol's mother.

Kendra also helps placate Carol in a meeting by presenting an idea of her own as something related to her by a white male employee that Carol expected an answer from.

Even more strikingly for the only nonwhite character in her office, Kendra wants to be transferred to London -- meaning she wants to leave the United States -- and "get into foreign rights."

Next is Pam, the agent of Carol's novelist ex-boyfriend Ben. She feels she must ask Carol to publish Ben's book because Carol's company has "the largest market share." She disappears from the film after her first and only scene. In a later, one-on-one meeting between Carol and Ben, Carol offers to publish Ben's book and Ben agrees. Ben is not shown communicating with Pam, and no other character even indicates that he might need to.

Putting the "F" in "GBF":

Carol's flamboyant employee, Fred, is the closest thing to an official gay character I've seen in a Hallmark movie yet.

He is played by Queer Eye for the Straight Guy's Carson Kressley, a famous gay person who is essentially playing himself. And while viewers are surely expected to recognize him, the character's sexuality isn't indicated, so the search for a Hallmark movie that formally acknowledges the existence of LGBT people continues.

I was torn between the novelty of Fred's femme behavior in the stuffy Hallmark Christmas universe and the concern that he was given this platform because Kressley’s screen persona so closely reflects a mainstream audience's assumptions about what gay people are like.

I also think he’s dressed like Adrian Veidt from Watchmen.

Listen to the Men:

In the flashback where they break up, Carol's ex-boyfriend Ben explains to Carol his understanding of her values and priorities. Ben's take is suggested to be totally accurate and unbiased by his own perspective. It's consistent with previous flashbacks and the testimony of Eve's ghost, Carol's mother, and Carol's present self.

Kendra is told by her boyfriend Zac that she isn't appreciated by her boss and that Carol's mentorship isn't a path to success or happiness. This isn't something Kendra is able to figure out on her own. Again, Eve agrees with this sentiment, and shows Carol a possible future for Kendra which validates it.

When Fred and his female co-workers hatch a plan to start their own publishing company, Fred does all the talking and the other two women just go along with it. There's no sense of back-and-forth, of three people pretty much having the same idea at the same time. It's just Fred getting the girls on board with his plan.

Listen to Mother:

Carol has a conversation with her mother about her ex-boyfriend Ben. Carol's mother says Carol and Ben seemed "so happy together," and implies that Carol should try getting back together with Ben. Realizing the fantasies of every parent of a single adult, this turns out to be fantastic advice and clinches a decision Carol was already leaning toward.

Motif Alert:

Tons of references to the original Christmas Carol. Carol's mother watches a film version of it. Carol recognizes that her visit from Eve is similar to that story, and at one point she even looks up a plot summary of the original Christmas Carol online to remind herself of what might be about to happen to her.

Due to her mother's financial struggles, Carol feels she must work constantly, and earn ever more money, just to "keep the lights on," a phrase that she repeats throughout the film. Although it lead Carol to some unhealthy choices, it's a noble sentiment. I've got a lot of respect for girls who will keep the lights on.

In a flashback, Carol buys Ben a typewriter, a gift which becomes a symbol for the status of their relationship. As they break up, Carol regrets ever buying Ben the typewriter. Later, she takes the fact that he still owns the typewriter as a sign that he might be willing to get back together. The film even closes with a shot of the typewriter, loaded with a piece of paper reading "THE END."

America First:

Carol tries to take the fun out of Kendra's dream of transferring to London by remarking that the "food is terrible" there. This is another example of Carol being a spoilsport who doesn't seem to enjoy anything, but also consistent with the xenophobic American disdain for international cuisine displayed in other Christmas movies. For a really vivid example, see A Royal Christmas.

Carol also has a book deal with an actual princess who has gone through four co-writers already. Carol insists that the princess is assigned a new co-writer. Carol's employees gasp at this concession to the rude, obnoxious behavior of an elite.

And despite this, the princess apparently hates Carol, and agrees to work with the new company being formed by Carol's disgruntled employees. It's said that the princess asked them to "stick it to Carol" for her. Which doesn't give the impression that the princess appreciated Carol's seemingly excessive patience for her volatile behavior. Many other Christmas movies portray foreign royalty in a similarly negative light.

Blue Light Special:

Carol's "Christmas Past" mostly takes place in a department store in 1985. The scene appears to have been filmed inside a present-day Kmart.

Flock of Santas:

The "Christmas Past" sequence, which takes place in 1985, also features an extra sporting the iconic hairstyle of Flock of Seagulls frontman Mike Score. For some reason, this is not the first time I've seen this hairstyle reference in a Christmas movie.

Age-Shaming:

Carol's mother (pictured above) lives with a nurse named Gloria, who tells Carol that "there might not be many more Christmases left" for her mother. Despite this, she doesn't look much older than Carol, or the least bit unhealthy, and there's no explanation as to why she needs to live with a nurse.

When Eve shows Carol a possible future in which she is an elderly grandmother, Eve says, "You're coming up on forty pretty quick, little lady. This is practically next week for you." Harsh, much?

Planned (Grand) Parenthood:

Before Carol is shown the traditional "Christmas Yet to Come" depicting a sad, lonely funeral, she's shown a "good ending" where she celebrates Christmas as an old lady with Ben, her children and grandchildren. Although it's typical for single adults in Christmas movies to get the hard sell on how much they'll enjoy raising children, I don't believe I've seen a childless person being tempted with the bliss of having grandchildren. It's also an affront to the next generation's freedom to make their own choices.

Fortunately, Ben doesn't need to be convinced that he wants to become a parent. In an earlier scene, Ben says, sadly, "What good is Christmas without kids?"