#through reading the experiences of others that ive also gone through

[tqxicfqcility]

trying to find avpd posts on this site is a nightmare bc it's such a rarely discussed disorder yet personality disorders arent (that) rarely discussed so searching for avpd stuff leads me to find 75 percent generic pd/stigmatized mental illness "u r loved🥺💗" positivity posts that slapped avpd in as a last thought bc it's a pd My sister in christ I am trying to find posts from people going through what I go through plsss stop it's starting to feel shallow

[perilegs]

not an astarion defender in the traditional sense, but in the sense that the whims he gets approval from are funny. i would also approve of someone throwing shit at people who asked them to smear their face with said shit

[veronicawildest]

NAKSHATRA SERIES: OBSERVATION FROM DIFFERENT NAKSHATRAS (SEGUNDO)

(Disclaimer: If you get butthurt on my other observation just blocked me and move away from me. This observations is from the celebrity i've observe and my social circle. Just take this like a grain of salt)

PUNARVASU

The trait that I love about Punarvasu is their resourcefulness. It makes sense because of the Vimshottari Nakshatra of Jupiter. They are also very giving.

(Unevolved) Punarvasu are fake. When they're talking to you, they act like a goody two shoes type of boy/girl, but when you're gone, they talk behind your back. They don't like confrontation (very passive). Also holier than thou (This only applies if you're UNEVOLVED, otherwise don't get butthurt).

Punarvasu are also people-pleasers. They want to have a "goody-two-shoes" reputation. (I can't fully describe it, but if you get it, you get it). A primary example that I'm going to give is Elon Musk (Punarvasu rising). The way he acts and presents himself in public. He just wants to be likable, but clearly, the public hates him.

Punarvasu are smart and they will show you that through their actions (I mean actions, for example, problem-solving activities)

PUSHYA:

The casting stereotype of this nakshatra is a hippy vibe. Just like in animated movies, Matilda (from Angry Birds Movie played by Maya Rudolph (Pushya sun)) and Brooke (from Ice Age: Collision Course played by Jessie J (Pushya moon)).

Pushya isn't as auspicious as it is portrayed in the Vedic astrology community. You will go through some hardships and heartbreaks that will make you easily susceptible to mental health issues. (I have this placement so this comes from my experience).

I observed this from other Pushya natives that they're just plain and simple, not glamorous but classy when it comes to their appearance. Just simplicity and vibes and natural.

I've seen on Twitter Vedic discourse about Tikshna Nakshatra getting all the hate, Ashlesha getting all the hate, not Pushya. I have a Pushya placement on my luminary, and I can tell y'all that's not true.

Examples:

Jennifer Lopez (Pushya sun) gets hated for getting all the benefits of being a celebrity when she's just allegedly stealing (I've also read this through Twitter).

Selena Gomez (Pushya sun) is hated for having this victim mentality complex and being "obsessed with Justin and Hailey."

(DISCLAIMER: This isn't my opinion on these certain celebrities, but I've been reading and seeing them on Twitter)

ASHLESHA

Despite being a Mercury-ruled Vimshottari nakshatra, Ashlesha doesn't speak too much.

I've seen Ashlesha males acting like sigma males, but they're funny. This is the nakshatra that embodies the "tropical Leo archetype," the archetype of funny, center of attention, fashionable, and dramatic.

Ashlesha either love all the attention or hate it. Mostly it's a mixture of the two. That's why the center of attention archetype for Tropical Leo.

Claire Nakti just conducted a survey on YouTube, but the leading people on Instagram (having the most followers) have Ashlesha placements. Selena Gomez (Ashlesha Venus and Mercury - still prominent because it conjuncts the Sun, which is her luminary), Kylie Jenner (Ashlesha Sun), and Cristiano Ronaldo (Ashlesha Moon).

MAGHA

If you have Magha in your big three, you're egoistic as fuck (for me egoistic above on other nakshatra). Napoleon has this Nakshatra on his sun. The new TikTok hype about King Baldwin IV (played by Edward Norton, Magha sun).

It's hard to differentiate Ashlesha and Magha because of the Gandanta point (and other Gandanta nakshatras):

- Both private

- Romantic (because other nakshatra of Leo gets all the credit of being romantic, but not Magha; they're romantic too)

- Both GREAT at their stuff/profession/talent

But to tell them apart is Ashlesha says, "I don't give a fuck," and they do give a fuck (because of the Crab cancer symbolism, it really makes sense why they put up a facade because of the shield) when Magha says nothing and literally doesn't give a fuck. They won't entertain. Yes, they're sensitive, but mostly they really don't give a fuck.

I don't get the hype of "Ketu nakshatras are not on social media. They don't usually use social media" on Vedic Twitter. Magha (Ashwini and Mula too) are active; they just don't interact or have private accounts. Ketu is exalted in the sign of Scorpio (investigating, lurking), and y'all think that they don't use social media? Joking, for real.

I still emphasize that Magha nakshatra individuals have sleeping problems. One of the Magha moon actors (in my home country) opens up about having sleep apnea and having a near-death experience. (Also, the beauty queen Magha sun talks about a near-death experience). It's common for them to experience the "Their soul is leaving the body while sleeping" phenomenon and meditation.

The impact of the death of loved ones for Magha is crucial. It's a sign that something significant will be happening or transforming for better or for worse. The best example that I can give is Megan Thee Stallion (her family).

[ssivinee]

✧Mindless✧

Part 1 | Part 2

<Part 2 of Wounded Heart, so i suggest you read that first>

BEBE! Bada Lee x F Reader x WOLF'LO Haechi Wang: Bada is a wreck after you leave, but you return after 5 months, thriving in life. But will history repeat itself, or do you finally get a happy ending?

Word Count: 13k

TW: Slight self-harm, a tad bit of dark humor, talks about bad coping habits, alcohol, and minor substances…this shit is lowkey toxic so pls keep that in mind

Note: NOW THIS IS THE LONGEST FIC IVE WROTE. I was struggling, ya'll like... this fic was literally beating my ass ngl. Also very much NOT proof read so🫡

Character Vision Board

During the five months you were gone, Bada's life took a turn. The emptiness you left behind seemed to grow with each passing day, and Bada's coping mechanisms gradually evolved into destructive habits that affected both herself and those in her vicinity.

She had turned to partying as a way to seek comfort in the late-night thrills of the bustling nightlife. The party's vibrant pulse, illuminated by the bewitching effects of flashing lights, offered a getaway from the burdens that had weighed heavily on her heart. The pounding music reverberated through the very core of her being, and the crowded venue seemed to come alive with a symphony of rhythm and laughter.

In the midst of the party, surrounded by a sea of euphoric faces, she found a temporary sanctuary from the guilt and loneliness that had taken up residence in her thoughts. The mesmerizing allure of the night, with its vibrant hues and ever-changing moods, offered a hypnotic diversion from the shadows of her mind.

Bada had always been known for her confident and charismatic demeanor, and it didn't take long for her magnetic presence to draw people toward her. Her laughter and animated conversations became a magnet, attracting friends and acquaintances who reveled in her engaging company. It was in these moments, under the neon glow of the dance floor, that she felt the warmth of human connection, a fleeting escape from her inner demons.

As the weeks passed, these gatherings became integral to her life. She eagerly embraced the nightlife almost every week, embracing its vibrant chaos as a temporary reprieve. The party had become a form of therapy, a way to momentarily set aside the harsh realities that lingered in the corners of her mind. Each night was a journey into the unknown, a whirlwind of emotions and experiences that helped her navigate the complexities of her own heart.

In her search for distraction, Bada played around with other girls more than before. Every day was someone new, and now, rather than having restraint, Bada’s actions became much more lewd. There were times students found the girl making out with someone in the cleaning closets, basically fucking someone in a bathroom stall, or even just daringly flirting with multiple people at once. She has always had a reputation as a player, and her charm seemed to work effortlessly despite her looming issues. 

Her transformation extended even to her role as a team leader. Bada's once compassionate and encouraging approach had given way to a more unyielding demeanor. She drove her team relentlessly, pushing them beyond their limits, her singular focus on anything but the troubling discomfort of longing that constantly haunted her thoughts.

Previously known for her unwavering dedication and passionate presence on the court, her leadership had evolved into a coping mechanism. During practice, her commands took on a sharper edge. "Come on, you guys! This isn't kindergarten; we need to get serious!" she'd bark, her words laced with an intensity that surprised her teammates.

Haechi, the team's co-captain and a close friend decided to address the issue after an especially grueling practice. She knew the actual reason behind Bada's changed behavior, but the team dynamics were profoundly impacted, and Haechi wasn't sure if it was her place to intervene. The situation was complicated because she was also personally involved and intimately understood the extent of everything.

Haechi approached Bada, her concern evident in her gaze. "Bada, you've been really hard on us lately. What's going on?" Bada's expression hardened as she grappled with her facade, struggling to keep her emotions at bay. "We need to win. I can't have any weak links on this team."

Haechi exchanged worried glances with the others. They sensed that Bada's intensity was driven by something far deeper than just the desire to win games, and it left them with a nagging sense of unease as they continued to practice under their unrelenting captain's leadership.

But each new fling, party, and quarrel only served as a fleeting distraction, never filling the void you had left behind.

There were late nights when she was alone in her room, and Bada would suffer about the facts. She missed you terribly. She missed your laughter, conversations, and the warmth you brought into her life. She yearned for the comfort and companionship of your friendship. As she lay in the darkness, the pain of her betrayal weighed heavily on her conscience. ‘I hurt the one person who truly cared about me. Am I just that stupid?’ she would silently admit.

These moments of reflection ate away at her, and she couldn't help but wonder how different things might have been if she hadn't let her fear and insecurities drive a wedge between you two.

Bada appeared on a desperate quest to bury the pain that still raced through her heart. With every beat, she felt the gaping void left by the absence of the most vital person in her life. No amount of parties, casual flings, or wild distractions could fill the vast emptiness that you had once occupied. 

In the quietest hours of the night, when the world was still, and her thoughts were loud, she found herself secretly yearning for your return. She harbored a genuine hope, wishing for a chance to mend the bridges she had inadvertently burned. 

Amid the crisis of losing you, Bada left no stone unturned in her quest for any trace of your existence. She scoured social media platforms, meticulously searching pages and timelines for the smallest updates or any signs of your life. Every ping of a notification filled her with a blend of hope and dread. 

She texted your number, pouring her heart into each word, desperately longing for a response. The silent void on the other end of the line only deepened her despair, leaving her grappling with your absence's stark reality.

Currently, Bada couldn't claim that she was doing any better. The pain persisted, but she was perhaps a touch more subdued than she had been in the turbulent months that had preceded this moment. She carried the weight of longing and loss, hoping for a glimmer of change in her circumstances.

The Past 5 Months

Bada was spiraling out of control. Despite her attempts to cope with your absence through partying and casual encounters, her world was slowly unraveling. The parties had become a regular getaway. Late nights turned into early mornings filled with pure adrenaline and blackouts. It was all a blur, a haze that she thought helped heal her pain but left her feeling emptier each time she woke up.

She especially enjoyed Noze’s parties, though, one of the few friends who enjoyed this new version of her. Noze ensured Bada enjoyed every night, letting her drink several liquor bottles, familiarizing Bada with weed, and introducing new girls to her. But, as one friend condoned the changes, the other three started worrying about their friend.

"Bada, maybe you should consider slowing down with the parties," Lee Jung gently suggested, concerned for her friend's well-being. The suggestion arose from the remnants of a bet they had made together, which had unintentionally caused a heated argument within their close-knit friend group. 

In the aftermath of the dispute, Bada had initially pointed fingers and placed blame on her friends, especially Lee Jung, for an entire month. However, deep down, she couldn't maintain her anger. She recognized that her resentment toward them was irrational, as she was equally at fault for the situation. 

Following the resolution of the argument, Bada's demeanor began to take a more concerning turn. Her attitude deteriorated, and she became increasingly prone to conflicts and confrontations. She seemed to lash out at anyone she deemed inferior or who challenged her in any way. The charming charisma she once exuded had now given way to an intimidating aura that, paradoxically, seemed to repel people while simultaneously drawing them in. It was as if the inner turmoil she had been grappling with was spilling over into her interactions with others, casting a shadow on her once-magnetic presence. The turmoil was like a cloud that had descended upon her, tainting the dynamics of her friendships and her personal life.

The fights were always something small that triggered the tall girl. An example of this was on a random afternoon in the university courtyard, where students gathered to relax, study, or socialize. Bada Lee, was sitting at an outdoor table, poring over her textbooks, trying to concentrate on her studies.

As she engrossed herself in her phone, a student from a nearby table accidentally bumped into her chair while walking past. The minor collision sent her drink rolling off the table and onto the ground. Irritated, Bada muttered under her breath, "Watch where you're going, you klutz."

The student, a young man with an apologetic expression, turned and said, "I'm really sorry about that. It was an accident."

Bada, however, was in no mood to accept an apology. Her hot-headedness had been consuming her patience, and she snapped back, "Accident or not, you should be more careful! My stuff is important, and now I have to pick up my pen because of your clumsiness."

The exchange had caught the attention of nearby students, who were now watching the situation unfold. The student, taken aback by Bada's harsh words, knelt to pick up the bottled drink and handed it to her, saying, "I said I was sorry. You didn't have to be so rude about it." Bada's temper flared. She aggressively snatched the drink from the boy’s hand and retorted, "Well, maybe if you were paying attention, you wouldn't keep causing problems for others!" She tells him as her pointer and middle finger jabbed continuously on his shoulder.

The pressure in the courtyard grew as other students exchanged uneasy glances. The situation escalated further as the young man, frustrated with Bada's attitude, replied, "I apologized, and I tried to help. You need to work on your manners." Bada's face reddened with anger. She pushed her books aside and stood up abruptly, causing her chair to screech loudly across the courtyard. "You have a lot of nerve, talking to me like that," she hissed.

The situation had escalated into an unnecessary confrontation, with both students locked in a heated exchange, their voices rising as they continued to argue. Bada's hot-headed attitude had once again ignited an incident, leaving the courtyard filled with an uncomfortable tension.

Even the bond between Bada and her parents had taken a sharp downturn, despite already not having the best relationship with them.That time of her life had become a persistent strain that weighed heavily on their family life.

Bada had moments where she believed she was making progress, her determination shining through, but these fleeting glimpses of improvement couldn't dispel the ongoing tension that seemed to permeate their household. The atmosphere was saturated with unresolved conflicts and unspoken words, casting a shadow over what was once a warm and harmonious home.

Bada's behavior had become increasingly reckless, mirroring her inner turmoil and frustrations. This recklessness was like a quiet storm, slowly but surely eroding the fragile remnants of understanding that had been left between her and her parents. They were beginning to contemplate a difficult decision, one that had seemed unimaginable before the possibility of sending her away in an attempt to restore peace and find a solution to the growing discord within their family.

As for her interactions with other girls, they had become a simple distraction, like they originally were. Bada had always been known as a player, but now it was as if she was desperately searching for someone to help her heal. She sought comfort in others' company but found none, just an easy quickie to get away, even for a moment.

In the days following your departure, Bada made genuine attempts to focus on her studies. She recognized the importance of maintaining her grades, but being separated from you posed a significant challenge. At times, she found herself gazing at her textbooks, her mind drifting back to the memories of your study sessions and shared laughter.

One day, unable to bear the weight of her emotions any longer, Bada decided to text you. She had thought long and hard about what to say, her fingers hesitating over the keyboard. Finally, she just goes for it.

Bada Hey, it's Bada. I know I messed up. I miss you.  Everything's been messing with my head.

But as the hours passed without a response from you, Bada felt her resolve waver. She thought, ‘Maybe I can't fix this,’ and gave in to her old school habits, falling back into familiar behavior patterns.

The days turned into weeks, and Bada's life continued to spiral. She had lost her way, and there was a growing sense of desperation in her actions. She longed for a chance to make amends, to rebuild the friendship she had thoughtlessly destroyed. But as time marched on, she couldn't help but wonder if it was too late to find her way back to the person she used to be.

After 5 Months

Bada's friends gathered around a cafeteria table, the lively buzz of their fellow students providing the background noise. Bada herself was engrossed in messaging a casual acquaintance, and her friends munched on snacks while discussing their upcoming schedules.

"Dude, next week's soccer game is about to kick our asses. The other team's record is still 13-0, like how do we even beat that?" Aiki groaned, capturing everyone's attention.

Emma responded with a nonchalant shrug, and Noze tapped her shoulder beside Lee Jung. "What about Bada’s basketball game next week?"

While all this unfolded, Bada remained busy in the bathroom with another girl, completely oblivious to what had transpired. Noze was about to turn to Lee Jung to discuss an impending assignment when her attention abruptly shifted to the entrance, where three unfamiliar girls entered with unwavering confidence.

Aiki's astonishment caught everyone's interest, and they looked up to see the three girls striding in with remarkable self-assurance.

As she left the restroom, her hair and clothes disheveled, she witnessed an unexpected sight. Her eyes widened in shock as she caught sight of the three of you. Overwhelmed, she whispered your name, staring at your transformed appearance. "Y/n?" Bada murmured to herself, her eyes locked on you. Noze hurried over to Bada, commenting, "Dude, they’re so fine, especially the one in the middle." Bada was too stunned to reply as she watched you three walk deeper into the cafeteria.

You returned to Korea with Aeri and Yunjin in tow. It was your decision because the American girls believed the school would be a great fit for them, and they were planning to move back to Korea. Little did you know this new trio would change things and create a strong force.

Together, you, Aeri, and Yunjin formed a unique bond even while still in the States. You were like a powerhouse trio, supporting and challenging each other in ways that brought out the best in everyone. Your friendship had strengthened during your time abroad, and now, you were ready to face new challenges at your old school. These girls became your rock while you had to work through your grueling internship, and they even helped you with this new version of yourself. The girls wanted to upgrade your wardrobe, enhance your confidence, and help with a new style of makeup. 

And god, did it make you look even more stunning than Bada remembered.

Stepping onto the bustling campus, you couldn't help but notice the sneaking glances and hushed whispers from Bada's circle of friends. They had undeniably heard about how the bet had concluded, though the full extent of the details remained a mystery to them. Their curiosity grew as they observed your confident demeanor, even though your identity remained a puzzle.

Yet, what struck Bada the most was the remarkable transformation in your appearance. Your once raven-black hair had morphed into a striking shade of blood-red, a bold statement that spoke of change. Your choice of clothing had evolved as well, embracing a more revealing style that mirrored a newfound confidence. This transformation left Bada in awe; she had anticipated changes, but the extent of it was astonishing.

At first, Bada harbored a glimmer of hope about mending the rift between you two, but her optimism waned as she observed your interaction with Haechi. A bright smile and a warm hug welcomed Haechi, revealing the depth of your connection. As you introduced Haechi to your friends, it became apparent that she held a significant place in your life during your time away. Deep down, a twinge of jealousy tugged at Bada's heart, though she tried to bury the feeling beneath a veneer of composure.

You walked into the English classroom alone, the absence of Aeri and Yunjin making you feel somewhat vulnerable amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces. The start of the new semester had brought about an unexpected twist of fate as it placed you, Bada, and Haechi in the same class. This class, in particular, was known for its emphasis on discussion and interaction, making it clear that interactions were about to become an inevitable part of your academic routine. The universe seemed to conspire to bring you all together once more, forcing you to confront the past and navigate the complexities of your shared history.

The atmosphere in the room was palpable, heavy with unspoken tensions. Bada's friends cast cautious glances in your direction, their expressions mixing curiosity and sympathy for their friend. As for you, the mere sight of Bada back in your life once more stirred a whirlwind of emotions within you. Her pleading gaze met yours, and in response, you turned your eyes away with a subtle scoff, a barrier between your feelings and the present moment.

Haechi, seated beside an empty chair, motioned for you to join her. She extended a warm smile and offered you a cup of coffee, a comforting gesture that eased some of the room's tension. "Thanks, Haechi," you said, taking the coffee and settling into the seat beside her. She responded with a gentle pat on your thigh, her concern evident in her gaze. "You okay?" Haechi asked, her voice laced with genuine care. You met her gaze, offering a reassuring but restrained smile. "I'm good, don't worry about it, okay?" Haechi fell into a thoughtful silence, her fingers brushing your arm gently. "Let me know if you ever need anything. You know I'm always here for you," she offered, her sincerity shining through. Encouraged by her words, you ran your fingers through her hair, your lips curving softly. "I know, Haechi."

Throughout the interaction, Bada observed in silence, fueled with mixed emotions. She knew she had no right to be angry, yet an undeniable sense of jealousy crept into her heart as she watched you stare at Haechi with eyes of care. While you were away, Bada and Haechi remained cordial, never bringing up you or the day you left, but that hindered the way they worked on the court and even as friends. Haechi got much more secretive, and Bada never knew why. 

Yes, they had a falling out, and Bada knew their friendship wouldn’t be the same as before, but this drastic change caught her off guard. Unbeknownst to Bada, Haechi was hiding the fact that she had been keeping up with you on social media, even chatting with you often, even in completely different time zones. Haechi had seen the new friends who had entered your life, especially Yunjin and Aeri, who seemed to be helping you navigate the tough times. She knew of your progress and the support system you had built, but she had chosen not to share this information with Bada, especially seeing how Bada had relapsed because of the situation.

The professor introduced you to the class since you joined a bit late. "Our next unit is about writing on feelings. It's a broad topic. I'll go around, and when I point at you, share what you'd write about based on your current feelings and why." He pointed at random students; most mentioned common emotions like happiness or stress.

The atmosphere in the classroom shifted when it was Haechi's turn to respond. The professor's question hung in the air, waiting to be answered. "What about you, Miss Wang? How are you feeling right now?" Haechi paused for a moment, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "I'd say it's as simple as being... in love?"

Her words caught both Bada and you by surprise. An unspoken curiosity lingered in the room, leaving everyone to wonder: Who was she in love with?

The professor noted her hesitation and probed further, "You don't seem entirely sure, Miss Wang." Haechi chuckled softly. "I said it's simple, but it's not quite there yet."

He continued, "So, a crush?" Haechi nodded, her gaze drifting toward you as you busily responded to messages on your phone. The professor moved on to the next student.

"Miss Lee, how about you?" Bada fidgeted nervously with her hands, the unease evident in her expression. Sharing her feelings in front of the class was an intimidating prospect. "Regret," she mumbled, glancing at you as she spoke. Her friends offered silent support, patting her back, understanding that Bada was navigating her own unique journey of coping with pain. 

"Why regret?" the professor inquired.

"I messed up," Bada admitted straightforwardly, giving a quick, almost reassuring nod as if she needed to affirm her words. A moment of silence followed before the professor decided to move on to the next student. "Miss Baek?"

Your head shot up, and you hesitated, keenly aware of the emotional weight of the responses that had come before yours. "Maybe 'endeavoring'?" you suggested, your voice quivering slightly. The professor encouraged you to elaborate, and you fidgeted uncomfortably in your seat as you opened up.

"I'm trying hard to become a newer and better version of myself. A version that's less naive," you confessed, revealing your vulnerability. Your response hung in the air, leaving you feeling exposed as you anticipated the inevitable questions and curiosity surrounding your pursuit of self-improvement.

In the following group discussions and class activities, you, Bada, and Haechi found yourselves being forced to engage with each other at certain times. The moments were filled with silent tension, unspoken words, and lingering gazes hinting at your unresolved feelings.

It was strange to you. You weren’t unaware of emotions and how they worked, but you should’ve been raging at the girl, even if she tried apologizing. Yet there was no denying the complicated web of emotions surrounding you and Bada. The past couldn't be erased, and the future remained uncertain, but one thing was clear: your reunion had brought new challenges into your lives. It left Bada wondering if there was still a chance for her to make amends and rebuild the friendship she had so thoughtlessly shattered, but she had to find a way to make it up to you. 

Even if it was just for the sake of her own mental.

In the weeks following your return, Bada couldn’t find any chance to be near you. At least you didn’t give her the chance to. If you were with your friends, you’d stray away from them. If you were with Haechi, you acted cuddly and somewhat flirtatious with her. If you were in class, you focused on every assignment. So Bada felt like she couldn’t butt in anywhere.

Bada did discover something she wasn’t too happy about. Haechi had been in contact with you while you were away, something Bada had not expected. She overheard her co-captain speaking to other girls on the team, as they seemed interested in your friendship. “So you're telling me, Baek Y/n, was the top student? The one who sat in the back of class and always wore a mask and hoodie?” Haechi nods at the question. “We just texted and called a lot while she was gone. I wanted to make sure she was okay, you know?” Jealousy gnawed at Bada as she wondered about the nature of your conversations and the connection that had persisted between you and Haechi.

You sat on a garden bench on a regular Thursday evening, chatting with Aeri and Yunjin. The conversation revolved around some gossip about friends back in the States. Aeri, still engrossed in her phone, asked, "Did Sarah spill the beans about her boyfriend?" Her eyes remained glued to her phone screen as she typed away.

Both you and Yunjin exchanged knowing glances, sensing some juicy details were about to be revealed. Without hesitation, you and Yunjin pulled out your own phones and began frantically scrolling through social media, eager to uncover the latest scoop. Yunjin chimed in, playfully groaning, "Well, can you tell us while we look? You're making us curious." Aeri observed the two of you with a smirk, "You two are like detectives when it comes to gossip."

Aeri revealed, "She said she found him hooking up with one of the girls from her group project." Her revelation earned a collective scoff from you and Yunjin. "Some people are just pigs," you grumbled, clearly not impressed by Sarah's boyfriend's behavior. The other girls nodded in agreement, sensing your irritation and not pressing further on your personal tone.

Just then, Haechi made her way to your group, catching you in the midst of your gossip and relaxation. "Hello, ladies," she greeted, waving at all three of you, though her eyes lingered on you a bit longer. You welcomed her with a warm hug, "What’s up?"

Haechi smiled and replied, "I was actually looking for you guys. I’m hosting a party tomorrow at my family’s townhouse and was hoping you three would come?" Her hopeful eyes rested on all of you, but the emphasis seemed to be on you.

You gladly accepted her invitation, "Of course, Haech. Just send me the details."

As you confirmed your attendance, she swiftly took out her phone to share the information. "I’ll see you later in class, alright?" You nodded as Haechi exited, and as she walked away, Aeri couldn't contain her excitement. She playfully shook your shoulders, causing you to laugh. "She’s so into you, girl."

Yunjin chuckled at the interaction and said, "Yeah, it's pretty obvious." You couldn't help but roll your eyes at their teasing, a subtle smile gracing your lips. "Oh, come on, you two. She's just being friendly." Aeri and Yunjin exchanged knowing glances before bursting into laughter, clearly not buying your innocent act.

The next day, the three of you prepared for the party in your cozy apartment. The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. The sound of upbeat music reverberated through the space, filling the entire house with an infectious energy.

As you and your friends got ready, the atmosphere was charged with excitement. You stood in front of the open closet, selecting from several outfits that were carefully hung and arranged by color and style. After trying on a few options, you settled on a simple yet stunning black dress. It was made mostly of mesh, which added an alluring and stylish touch to your ensemble. The dress clung to your curves in just the right places, making you feel confident and radiant.

Aeri, the makeup enthusiast of the group, took charge of your makeup. She wouldn't stop pestering you until you reluctantly agreed to let her work her magic. As she skillfully applied makeup, you couldn't help but glance at your reflection in the mirror. You had to admit, she had transformed your look, enhancing your features and giving you a sultry, glamorous appeal. It was a look that could turn heads and make a lasting impression.

With your hair styled and makeup perfected, you felt ready to take on the night. Once you were all dressed and glamorously prepared, you left the apartment, the pounding music fading behind you.

Arriving at Haechi's large townhouse, you were met with an electric atmosphere. The lights and music created an ambiance of celebration, and the chatter of excited partygoers filled the air. You took out your phone and texted Haechi to let her know that you had arrived. In no time, she responded, instructing you to head to the pool area where she and her friends were hanging out. The anticipation in the air was notable, and you were more than ready to join the party.

Navigating through the sweaty, inebriated bodies in the crowded house, Bada's sharp eyes caught a glimpse of your fiery red hair. The instant she spotted you, her heart leaped, and an overwhelming desire to be by your side surged within her. However, the maze of partygoers and the deafening music made it nearly impossible for her to pinpoint the perfect moment to approach you.

As you, Aeri, and Yunjin finally made your way to the backyard, transitioning from the bustling house to the open air was a breath of fresh relief. The chaotic, pulsating energy of the indoor party gave way to a serene yet lively outdoor setting. The atmosphere was alive with laughter, chatter, and the glistening reflections of the pool.

Your eyes quickly sought out Haechi's figure, who was seated by the poolside, surrounded by familiar classmates and friends who were engaged in animated conversations. Her presence exuded a tempting charm, drawing you in like a bee to honey.

When she sensed your gaze, the tension between you and Haechi was palpable, thickening the air around you. Her teeth tugged seductively on her lips, and her captivating gaze remained unwaveringly fixed on your body. Haechi was clearly reveling in the sight before her, the intensity of her emotions mirrored in her smoldering eyes, creating an electric connection between the two of you.

“I’m glad you could make it,” she tells you, sipping on a red solo cup, likely filled with alcohol. “I wouldn’t miss your party, Haech,” you simply tell her, as your friends already mingled away to the table filled with drinks. “You want anything?”

“Some plain soju would be nice,” she nods at you, pulls you over to the table, and pours you a cup. “You look good, Y/n-nie,” her husky voice almost seemed to purr when complimenting you. A coy smile forms on your lips, your gaze becoming dangerously enticing, “I can say the same thing about you,” you tell her as you take a sip of the soju, feeling your body heating up due to just one taste of the drink.

“I’ve been wanting to ask about the English assignment, by the way?” Your brow raises, “You’re talking about an assignment? During a party?” You giggle at her antics, but her seductive eyes stay on yours, “I was hoping for a private lesson.” You feel the shiver down your back, her voice getting deeper as she continues.

“I’m sure I can help you in some way, too,” you feel your body heating up even more. “We can work something out,” you say as your hand caresses her arm, feeling up the sleeve of her letterman jacket. Haechi was now liking this new feeling you’ve brought upon her, deciding to make a move. The music starts booming on the speakers, and the taller girl smirks at the sound, “Wanna go dance?”

With a sly smile, you returned her reply, "Of course." Navigating your way through the pulsating crowd, the sensual rhythm of the music reverberated through the entire house.

As you and Haechi swayed your bodies in harmony to the seductive beat, an undeniable magnetic pull drew you closer. The atmosphere was charged with noticeable sexual tension as your bodies moved, grinding in a rhythm that left no space between you. The vibration from the speakers had the two of you feeling the dizziness from the heated moment. Haechi's long arms enveloped your hips in a firm, possessive embrace. Her fingers, gripping strong, found their place on your thighs, the touch being electrifying, signaling anticipation from you. 

The chemistry between you two was igniting a fire that had been fuming beneath the surface for months, leaving bystanders feeling the heat of your connection. 

Meanwhile, Bada watched in the corner of the room. She noticed you walking in as Haechi gripped your wrist, visibly feeling disgusted at the sight of you two getting up close and personal. She couldn't help but notice the spark between you and Haechi, and her jealousy was beginning to get the best of her again. In a misguided attempt to put an end to her emotions, she saw the same blonde girl you had found her with that one night after the basketball game. It was wrong, sure, but if anyone learned ANYTHING about Bada - she didn’t know how to control her emotions properly. Bada had pulled the blonde to the dance floor, making sure you could see them as the tall girl’s hands roamed all over her body. 

Your eyes met hers for the first time since you got here, and it felt as if your entire world was crumbling again. You wanted to deny the feelings, not try to feel weak, vulnerable, or stupid over the girl, yet you couldn’t help it. Bada may have felt like she was the only one changing, but she was also helping you.

So when you saw the same girl that day, you felt hurt and betrayed again. You almost didn’t even remember Haechi’s presence behind you, only being alerted again as you felt her chest beating. Feeling the weight of Bada’s actions, you tried to escape the dance floor, finding an excuse. “Let me go get a drink and use the bathroom!” You yell over the loud music, and Haechi nods. 

You stumbled into the kitchen, grabbing any bottle at hand, pouring a cup to the top, and gulping it down to numb the pain and confusion that had enveloped you. The fiery burn in your chest and the swirling dizziness offered a brief respite from the shit show happening in the other room. Even though you knew it was wrong to punish yourself this way seemingly, your mind whispered that perhaps it was time to let loose, to indulge in a bit of naughtiness, for reasons you weren't entirely sure of. All that mattered in that moment was making this night count, no matter the consequences.

When your mind was made up, you quickly went to the living room, finding Haechi again, leaning on the wall with a clear flush all over her body. ‘She was drunk,’ the thought made your next decision easier.

You pulled her arm to the corner of the room, where a couch could be seen, and pushed her down. Haechi was shocked but relaxed as you straddled her, getting comfortable on your lap. Her eyes travel down to the ends of your dress as it rode up your thighs due to them being spaced out by her legs. She placed her hands under your thighs, keeping you balanced as you leaned closer to her.

Your eyes traveled to her lips as your hand pressed on her waist, “Is it bad if I really wanted to kiss you right now?” You mumble in her ear, nibbling lightly, and Haechi’s mind is going feral at the feeling of your breath tickling her skin. She impulsively pulls your chin with her long fingers, lips crashing down on yours. The feeling of your soft, pouty lips hooked the taller girl as she pulled on your bottom lip, wanting to feel your tongue.

So when you oblige, the swirling of your tongue around hers encourages her to wrap her arms around your waist, bringing you closer as you find your hands banding themselves around the back of her neck. The room was already hot, but sweet began to form as your body heat radiated off each other.

Without breaking the kiss, you take your jacket off swiftly and lay it beside the girl who was now gripping your waist with much force. Bada had seen you leave and knew she was successful, but her face burned in anger when she found your red hair again. She only saw your backside, but she knew what was going on with the way you were positioned and how your head was motioning. “Dude, you're killing the cup,” she heard Aiki point out and looked down to see the discombobulated red solo cup, clear liquor dripping from her fingers. “My bad,” Bada groans, finding a napkin to clean up the mess. 

Looking back up, she finds you sitting on Haechi’s lap, now to the side and laughing lightly as the tall girl whispers in your ear.

‘Oh fuck this,’ Bada just walks out of the house, not caring about her friends pleading for her. She couldn’t stand it, yet were you just gonna let her waltz back in and kiss her - it was impossible for it to be that easy. You stayed at the party for a little longer, just chatting away with everyone as Haechi stole a few kisses from you every now and then as you enjoyed the rest of your night.

Amidst the chaos of your complicated relationships with Bada and Haechi, you found solace in shopping with Aeri and Yunjin the next day. The three of you bonded over retail therapy, spilling the tea about your respective love lives and the intricacies of your feelings. So, the topic naturally turned to Bada and Haechi during your shopping spree. 

You sat on the bench with Aeri and Yunjin, trying out new clothes as you watched, already buying the clothing you picked out. “So you’re saying you made out with Haechi cause you were jealous of Blondie and Bada?” Yunjin asks, making sure she understands the situation.

“Honestly, so real,” Aeris says, encouraging your choices as usual. “I mean, I’m sure Haechi should’ve expected something like that to happen at a party without so many feelings involved,” Yunjin rationalizes, but it gets you thinking.

Did you like Haechi? Do you still like Bada? Were you over everything Bada did to you? Did the kiss mean anything? Was it just the heat of the moment? You only guessed that time could tell. It hasn’t even been a month since your return, and you already struggled to comprehend things.

Once the two girls notice your silence, Aeri snaps her fingers in front of your face, “Hello? Y/n? Still with us?” You shake your head at the teasing tone, a giggle being pushed out. “I don’t know what to feel right now, honestly,” your voice comes out soft, and the girls realize it is actually serious. “Well, do you like Ms. Wang?” Yunjin, the certified friend psychiatrist of the group, asks you, and you shrug. “I won't deny liking her company. Haechi has been with me through the months of hurt and change,” you pause, and the girls anticipate what's coming next. “But?”

You sigh, “But I can’t get that asshole Bada out of my head.” You share your conflicting emotions and the tangled web of attraction, jealousy, and unresolved history that defined your interactions with the two basketball captains.

“Is it not just physical attraction to you?” Yunjin’s question made you think that you were sure it wasn’t just physical with Bada but you with Haechi, fully knowing that she had become a safe space for you. “I don’t really think either of them are solely physical.” You groan. The thoughts started giving you a brutal headache as you sat on the chair, hanging your head low with your eyes shut.

“I don’t think anyone can blame you, girl. The entire school population loves those two girls, and it's kinda concerning especially since Bada doesn’t have the best track record with women.” Aeri points out, and you scoff, “You’re not wrong, girl, but these girls have always been like that for Bada.” More than ever, it seemed like many were vying for Bada’s attention, and it left you contemplating the complex dynamics of your relationships, now with Haechi in the picture as well. The two captivating and complex girls who had entered your life once more and would most likely cause havoc in your life.

The next week, everything was surprisingly normal. You and Haechi weren’t awkward after the steamy night, but the friendship was sure flirtier than before. Whenever she saw you the entire week, she’d kiss you on the cheek or play with your soft locks. You began to realize that Haechi’s love language was physical touch, but you never knew why it took you so long to think of that. The girl used to hug you every time she said literally hello, so it made sense.

It was now Monday morning, and you were in the cafeteria with Aeri and Yunjin, eating the fresh lunch they got. As you guys ate in peace, Haechi came up to you guys and sat at the table. “Hey, pretty,” she says as you chew your food, and she uses your finger to tilt your head up.

Your doe eyes stared at her as you chewed with chipmunk-like cheeks, and she found you quite adorable. “Haech, the table is used for eating, not your ass,” you joke, and she laughs. “What are you doing here, though? Don’t you usually eat outside in the morning?” 

“I had to come early to talk to Miss Kim today, so I decided to stop by and ask you guys if you wanna come to our basketball game at Handong University on Friday?” “Sure, what time?” Haechi checks her phone, “At 5 pm.” 

“Do we need tickets though?” Yunjin speaks up, chewing on her food. “Yeah, but don’t worry about it. If you ride with me, you can get the tickets easily and just go in with me.” You nod, “Bet, just text me your plan.”

Haechi takes her leave, and the girls begin staring at you, causing you to look at them in confusion. “What?”

“At this point, you guys should start dating already,” Aeri blurts off, and you almost choke on your food. “I’m not ready for that.” “Not ready for that, or just not with Haechi?” You paused harshly at the statement. No amount of swallowing your saliva could shake that anxious feeling off whenever talking about this question. “I don’t know,” you just roll your eyes.

After breakfast, you had to go to the student council office, still having the role of secretary. Walking into the office, you see the president and vice president talking to Bada. Trying to avoid interaction with the girl, you just walk past her, giving no attention and checking the papers you’d need for this week.

As you skimmed over everything, you began hearing the president's voice to Bada. “I don't want to hear another complaint, Bada. I’ve been doing my best to cover for you so your parents don’t have to hear anything, but this is becoming too much.” Bada huffs at the statement, assuming that you can hear everything. “I’m just saying the paperwork complaints are becoming too much. You can't just leave the school or go home to mess with a girl?” 

Hearing those words had your eyes roll hard, quickly wanting to leave the room with your piles of paper. Bada notices the irritation in your face, quickly wanting to follow you, but is being stopped by the other two students.

“We're telling you, Bada, this should be the last one, or else we will report it.” Bada could care less right now, so as they finish talking to her, she runs out of the office, looking in every direction to see if she can catch up to you. She finds you at the end of the left hallway, and her quick, long legs catch up easily.

You, on the other hand, hear the loud footsteps, letting a strong sigh out. “Y/n?” Just hearing her voice - it had your mind in a frenzy. You missed the soothing sound, and it didn’t help turning around to look at her. Due to the height difference, you were now looking up at the girl, her tense face evident as she looked at you. Bada just stood there, not really thinking about her actions.

“Anything you wanna say?” You practically whispered out. Bada was in awe of you; all she could think about was how good you looked. Your pleated red school skirt was paired with plain knee-high socks, and your white collared button-up tucked in yet slightly see-through made Bada go crazy. You weren’t so innocent yourself as you stared at the girl's luscious full lips, feeling the intensity of her stare. “Again, did you wanna say something?”

For some reason, the sorry that was at the tip of her tongue never came out, “You going to our game this week?”

If you were disappointed in the question, Bada wanted to punch herself in the face. All that build-up and tension led to this? You look at her, questioning her in your head, “Yeah, Haechi invited me so…” the silence was deafening as Bada just stood there, her brain trying to configure what to tell you. “I’ll just get going now,” you take your leave, not letting Bada get herself together.

The entire day, you found the interaction so odd. You believed your first encounter with Bada would’ve been filled with anger and raging tears, yet the two of you stood in the middle of that hallway like a deer in headlights. You shake the feeling off and just go about your busy day.

As time flew by, it was already Friday, and you were currently in Haechi’s car, sitting in the passenger seat, while your two best friends sat in the back. As Haechi drove, her hands stayed clasped on your bare thigh, as your skirt didn’t cover much. Not minding the touch, you just kept talking to the girls in the back. “You think there’s gonna be any cuties there?” Aeri questions as she applies her gloss. “I wouldn’t doubt it. Handong is known for their fine-ass students, you know,” Yunjin said with a shrug, and you giggled. “I’ve heard a lot of students there get cast as models,” you share, and Haechi looks at you suspiciously. 

“You seem excited to see them?” Haechi states, trying to hide her jealousy, yet you read her like an open book. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m sure I’ll see some cuties there,” you tease, leaning back on the chair. Expecting a laugh from the tall girl, you were surprised to feel her grip tighten around your thigh as it slowly raised higher, laying right under the fabric of your skirt. Your body tenses at the feeling.

“Am I not enough?” Her voice sounded so innocent, yet had a daring tone lying underneath, and you could clearly tell. Now, what were you supposed to respond to that? You stare at her, shocked at the question, and when she takes a peek at you, she chuckles at your reaction. “I’m kidding, Y/n-nie, don’t stress out too much.”

The car ride became silent between the two of you while the two girls in the back kept chatting. Once you make it to the school, Aeri looks around, a bit disgusted at the sight of the school. “Is this school small, or is it just me?” “Our school’s just really big,” you tell her, laughing as she silently judges the place. “Let’s go in through the back?” Haechi announces as her duffel hangs on her shoulder. She led the three of you through the back, passing by the other girls of her team.

“We don’t have to buy any tickets?” You asked, but before you can get a response, you hear a yelp from Aeri. You turn around and see Yunjin helping the shorter girl up as they face a tall group of girls. Their uniforms were forest green and orange in color. As they were unfamiliar to you, you were a bit cautious about what was about to happen, especially knowing Aeri’s fiery attitude. 

“Can you look where you're walking?” The short girl’s voice was full of pure irritation. “My bad, shorty, it was just an accident. I didn’t see you,” you heard a deep tone, cockiness dripping from the words. “I- I’m sorry about my teammate. They just get a bit excited when playing on game day.” A taller girl from the back speaks up, and Aeri is about to go off. “Excited? What a fuck-”

Before she could continue, you stepped in, shutting her mouth with a simple shush from your lips, “Relax yourself, Aeri.” You face the unfamiliar team and bow, “Good luck on your game,” just keep it at that, taking the girl's wrist, trying to pull them away. “Wait, aren’t you a pretty little thing? I’ve never seen you here at Handong. Don’t tell me-“

“It obviously means she goes to Yunae University, idiot. So stop harassing the girl.” Another unknown voice speaks out; the rich tone makes your ears ring a little. You see a tall, attractive girl with raven hair walking forward, bowing to you. “I want to apologize for anything Aisha has said to you.” You smile at the leader-like gesture, “It’s alright. Your number 5 over here did her best to help.” The way you smiled had the tall girl's heart fluttering. There was just something about tall girls like you, huh? She gives a genuine grin, cat-like eyes softening at you, “Yel does her best in situations like this. I’m Doyeon, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Doyeon-nim. I’m Y/n from Yunae.”

Her eyes travel from your cute grin down to the stylish outfit. “You know I don’t usually condone Aisha and her words, but I must agree. You are a pretty little thing.”

You couldn’t deny feeling intimidated at the moment, feeling like a kitten being placed in a den full of preying lions. Despite having Yunjin and Aeri by your side, the tall girls towering over you had you feeling powerless. As the Handong basketball captain was about to continue, you felt a presence looming behind you, which felt suffocating. You peeked over your left shoulder, seeing Haechi’s familiar black bomber jacket.

To your right, however, was an unfamiliar outfit. Yet you sure did recognize the scent of her perfume. If it wasn't for the famous Bada Lee and her impeccable timing. “You two have to go change,” you tell them, patting their shoulders with the knuckles of your hands. You weren’t expecting them to move at your words, and you were completely correct. You don’t know why you ended up in a war of ‘who has the most rizz,’ but you weren’t super happy about it.

It was an ego booster, but you concluded that you weren’t built for the drama-filled life. Yet every time you tried to better yourself and stray away, it seemed to follow you around. “If it isn't the famous captains of Yunae,” Aisha’s cocky tone comes out again, and you feel the irritation of both captains bouncing off each other. Both Yunae captains were heated for different reasons. Haechi knew that you’d probably get hit on by someone, which was reasonable since you are a fine-ass woman, but Aisha’s approach ticked her off.

Bada, on the other hand, was familiar with Miss Kim Doyeon. Having gone to the same schools for many years, the two were basically competitors in school. Yes, Bada lacked in grades, but so did Doyeon. In every other aspect, they were quite even. The only main difference was Doyeon being more feminine, but that didn't change much. She and Bada were exactly the same, and she knew that not only meant trouble for you but for her as well.

Realistically, Bada didn’t know if her old pal changed, but safe to say she wasn’t about to take any chances, especially with you involved.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Lee. Life’s been treating ya’ well?” Doyeon’s subtle teasing doesn't go over Bada’s head. Doyeon could read Bada like an open book, knowing how to annoy the girls with even a simple glance. And with her AND Haechi standing behind you, the situation was clearly all over the place for you. “You can say that,” Bada gives a faux smile as she secretly takes your hand in hers, tugging you closer to her direction.

You were starting to get uncomfortable with the tension that you just let her, not wanting to deal with this shit anymore. Haechi notices the close proximity between you two, and her brows furrow, the waves of confusion, jealousy, and anger mixing together. “Let’s just go, guys. I’m sure your team is waiting for you.”

You tell the two tall girls, patting their backs in the visitor locker room direction. The two players wanted to talk to you, but your best friends pulled you to the bleachers, taking a seat so you could talk about what just happened. “Now, what the actual fuck was that?” You shrug at Aeri, “You are the reason I was a part of that in the first place.” “To me, it seems like you had five hot girls crowding all over you,” Yunjin states bluntly with a smirk. You scoff at them, leaving the conversation at that since you were over the entire thing already.

After 10 minutes, the Yunae team starts pulling out onto the court, Haechi and Bada being the last ones. With their uniforms on, the girls were decked out in black and white with little details of light blue due to them playing at another school instead of their primarily light blue uniform. The girls begin warm-ups with Bada wearing her number 22 and Haechi wearing her 29.

As you chatted away with Yunjin, Aeri sat there on her phone, as she wasn't really interested in sports. The game began, and within the time span of 15 minutes, so much had happened. The current score was 34 - 38, with Yunae leading. The opposing team's players couldn't resist the temptation to flirt and vie for your attention. The little winks sent your way, kissy faces, even Yel, being the shy player of Handong, sent seductive eyes your way every now and then. They made their intentions clear, attempting to catch your eye throughout the game.

Haechi and Bada quickly picked up on the advances made by the opposing team. Their competitive spirits were inflamed, and they decided to take matters into their own hands. 

As the game progressed, Haechi couldn't help but feel resentment, exchanging a knowing glance with Bada, who shared a similar expression to her. The co-captain leaned in closer to the tall girl, her voice filled with playful mischief. 

"Looks like they're not just playing for points, are they? Should we give them a taste of their own medicine?" Haechi whispered to the girl, and Bada, always up for some friendly competition, grinned mischievously and nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. Let's make this game even more interesting."

Yunjin, who had been chatting with you about the team dynamics, noticed the sudden shift in Haechi and Bada's strategy. The two felt more aggressive on the court, and you couldn’t help but notice Haechi’s improvement while playing. Her speed had become evidently quicker while swiftly moving through the other team, being quite in sync with Bada.

You remembered Bada being the best player on their team by far. Yet months later, here Haechi was, being on par with the passionate player. As the opposing team continued to flirt and vie for your attention, Haechi and Bada began taunting their opponents in a playful yet competitive manner. They showcased their skills, trying to outshine their rivals and draw your attention. The game took on a new level of intensity as the players on both teams, fueled by a desire to impress you, pushed themselves to the limit. The flirting had turned into a friendly rivalry, and you couldn't help but find the entire situation amusing as you watched the game unfold.

At halftime, the opposing players started playing rough against the Yunae girls. They were shoving and elbowing, and fouls were getting called left and right. You looked on, serious, as you saw this, thinking they were more interested in fighting at this point than playing the game.

Tensions escalated as one of the opposing players commented disrespectfully about you. “I’m sure your little girlfriend over would be a nice trophy to win. She’d suit Handong students better, you know? Maybe Doyeon can get her after this.” Both Haechi and Bada reacted instantly, shoving the offender and fiercely protecting you and your image. "Hey, watch your mouth! Show some respect!" Haechi yells, but Bada can’t keep her cool, especially after seeing the smirk on Doyeon’s face after the comment, "Keep that nasty shit off the court, and stop involving her!" 

The confrontation quickly spiraled into a small brawl during the game. After one final push from Haechi, Aisha seemed to reach her limit and threw a powerful punch at the opposing girls. You stood up, surprised by her action. Aisha was supposed to be the co-captain of Handong, but she was having a hard time controlling her emotions during the game.

"Protect Bada and Haechi-unnie!"

"No one disrespects Doyeon!"

The gym echoed with shouts and chaos as the brawl intensified, leaving you and your friends caught in the middle of a heated showdown. In the midst of the chaos, punches were thrown, and Bada and Haechi found themselves on the receiving end of blows. Despite the chaos around you, your immediate concern was Haechi. “Haech!” Your voice was loud and abrupt, running over to her side as you kneeled, touching her face in concern as you saw the bruise slowly forming. The tall girl whimpers in pain as she leans on her elbows, trying to sit up, yet has difficulty due to blows to the stomach.

Your worry and care were evident as you rushed to her side, tending to her injuries and offering comfort. Bada watched from the sidelines, growing even more furious than she had been before. She couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness as she saw your concern and attention directed solely towards Haechi. It was a stark reminder of the divide that had grown between you and Bada, a divide she knew she deserved, given her past actions. You notice Bada’s dramatic exit out of the infirmary, heavy footsteps and sighs could be heard. 

As you sat next to a pained Haechi, you couldn’t help but feel bad for the girl who had no one taking care of her.

Well, there you go again, being too kind to the wrong people. Just couldn’t help yourself huh?

Amidst the demanding next three weeks of student council duties that had overwhelmed your time as secretary, Haechi graciously respected your need for space. While you tackled your responsibilities, she maintained a continuous presence by sending supportive text messages throughout the day.

In these rare moments when rest briefly graced your hectic schedule, Bada seized the opportunity to approach you in your newest hang-out spot, the school garden. She wanted to at least try to rebuild that trust, especially after the petty fight in the game last week. Bada felt that in your eyes, she was now the most immature person in the world, yet she was unaware that Haechi had explained to you, the teasing, the comments made about you, the little bond they made, literally everything. 

Everything except the past of Bada and Doyeon, which even Haechi had no idea about.

Bada envisioned a mature conversation with you, but as she drew closer, the emotions steamed beneath the surface began to surge forward.

Bada's voice quivered slightly as she spoke, a sense of plea in her voice. "Hey," she began, her eyes searching your face for any sign of acknowledgment. "Can we talk?"

You looked up from your work, meeting Bada's gaze. Your expression showed subtle uncertainty, though you were open to hearing her out. "Um, sure." You shifted to the left, creating space for her to sit. Bada took a seat, her head resting in her hands, dreading the conversation that lay ahead. Still, she knew she needed to ask for forgiveness at some point, so she might as well do it now.

Bada nodded earnestly, her voice trembling as she began, "I know I messed up." Her words were filled with remorse, but you scoffed softly.

"Saying you messed up is putting it lightly," you responded, your tone tinged with disappointment and irritation. "You made a bet on me, Bada. I'm not some object," you said, your voice wavering slightly. "I appreciate you trying to apologize, but I'm not sure I can forgive you." A trembling sigh escaped from Bada's lips. "I just wanted to talk to you about it."

You took a moment to think, aware that you often took the high road in situations like this. However, you were uncertain about the right decision at this particular moment. “I’m an insecure fuck who has no one,” Bada says, chuckling at herself. “I’m pathetic.”

You fix your gaze on her, annoyance and displeasure evident in every word. "You have no right to say that," you seethe, your voice quivering with anger, and Bada begins to feel cornered. Emotions swirl within you, and your voice trembles with the weight of your words. "You had me," you confess, tears welling up as frustration gnaws at your resolve. "I tried my best to be there for you, even though we hadn't known each other for that long. I cared."

The floodgates open, and you struggle to maintain your composure, a solitary tear slipping down your cheek. "You just couldn't let go of that player image, could you?" Your voice trembles with a mix of sadness and resentment. "You just had to string me along." The rawness of the moment hangs heavily in the air, a heartbreaking confrontation filled with disappointment and sorrow.

Bada couldn’t even look at you, it was as though you had become her kryptonite. Just capable of melting her defenses with a single glance. All she thought was, ‘You're a bad person. This is your karma.’

“I know,” Bada says silently, feeling a tear wetting her cheek, and she uses her sleeve to calm herself. “I’m the loser who let an amazing girl go,” Bada says, and she feels her disappointment again. Bada's breathing was becoming staggered, almost hyperventilating. With this happening before, you rest your hand on her back, rubbing in circles. “Breath, Bada. In through the nose, out through the mouth.” You stare at her face, which flushes red as she struggles to breathe. You knew that Bada felt bad, Haechi even telling you how upset she was when you left.

You just never knew the extent of it until now. So seeing this - a mentally broken Bada in front of you, had you in distress. You couldn’t help but hug the crying girl, and like months ago, you had her calming down just from your touch. “If you put in effort, I think I can try forgiving you,” you mumbled as her head nuzzled into your neck, trying to end the stress completely.

So, in the following days, Bada did try. The girl did everything she possibly could. Bada's acts of kindness showed her silent mission to seek your forgiveness. She understood the seriousness of her actions and was determined to make amends. Her gestures of kindness were sincere and subtle, reflecting her genuine remorse.

Every morning for the past week, you found a cup of freshly brewed coffee waiting for you at your desk in the student council office. The aroma was always comforting, and the warmth of the gesture touched your heart as you got used to the strong scent. Bada even noticed your heavy workload and would discreetly carry your bag whenever your hands were full of books or papers. She made it seem effortless, ensuring your burden felt lighter.

You even receive an unexpected lunch from Bada occasionally. The meal would be carefully packed and contain your favorite dishes - which she pestered you for, a thoughtful gesture that was impossible to ignore. On the lunches, you'd find apologetic notes tucked into your textbooks or slipped under your door. Bada expressed her regret and longing for your forgiveness in these handwritten messages. You were bombarded with all this and were surprised at her persistent and dedicated efforts.

As Bada demonstrated her genuine remorse through these acts of kindness, a gradual shift in your perception began to take shape. It wasn't an overnight transformation, but her consistent efforts and heartfelt gestures couldn't be denied. You reflected on the possibility of forgiveness, and your heart slowly began to open to the idea of at least being friends again.

Meanwhile, all this is happening, and Haechi has become more aware, remaining wary of the situation. She knew the extent of Bada's genuine feelings for you, which had only intensified during your time apart. Haechi had seen firsthand how you had affected Bada, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she might be losing you. Haechi can’t deny she’s taken a liking to you over the months, but she felt like she couldn’t compete with that at all. Her insecurities and fears bubbled beneath the surface as she observed your interactions with Bada. Yet she knew to accept defeat, knowing you weren’t necessarily over the tall captain either.

In Haechi’s mind, even just for a little while, she wanted to have you all to herself. You put her at ease, made her a better person, and overall made her feel loved. But that’s the same way Bada felt, maybe to the extreme even. Her worries got even worse when you and Bada had to work on an English assignment together, having to write up a script for a play in the next two weeks.

That’s when Haechi finally confided in you, her voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I can't help but feel a bit uneasy, you know. I've seen how much you mean to Bada, and it's hard not to worry about what might happen between you two." You nodded, understanding her concerns. "I get it, Haechi. But we just have to get through this project then it’ll be back to normal."

She sighed, her worries still lingering and you couldn’t help but beat yourself up mentally. The both of you knew you were lying, to her and yourself. As the days passed, the situation became increasingly complicated, but your open conversation with Haechi was a small step toward easing her concerns and maintaining the balance in your relationship.

During the second week of the project, you and Bada unexpectedly hit a bump in the road. 

In the midst of your project work, emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiled over. The two of you sat in her bedroom that day, working on your laptops and as you stayed focused with your large adorable glasses on, she couldn’t help but think how irresistible you looked.

Bada had kept staring, and you felt the tension steadily increasing, fueled by unresolved feelings and a shared history that couldn't be ignored. As the two of you worked side by side, the atmosphere grew increasingly charged. 

You both leaned over a table, discussing project details, your eyes locked onto each other's.

“You’re gorgeous Y/n,” Bada could only whisper, being hypnotized by your puppy-like eyes as you stared at the girl. After the past two weeks, the never-ending interactions and genuine drive to be in your life were beginning to affect your heart in the same way it did before.

Bada couldn’t help herself, you just looked so tempting.

In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the chemistry between you. The air crackled with tension as you both leaned in, drawn together. Your lips met in a heartfelt kiss, that felt like a culmination of all the emotions building between you. It was a kiss filled with longing, desire, and the weight of unspoken words. As your mouths moved in sync, the world around you ceased to exist, and you were consumed by the intoxicating sensation of being so close to someone you had missed for so long.

Each touch, each caress, conveyed a depth of emotion that words could never capture. It was a kiss born from a complex mixture of attraction, regret, and the undeniable connection that had always existed between you. At that moment, the lines between friendship and love seemed more blurred, and you were both swept away by the intensity of each other's lips.

The tension and unresolved emotions that had been building between you erupted in a passionate and heated kiss. The kiss quickly escalated into a fervent make-out, leaving both of you breathless and confused in the aftermath.

As you pulled away from each other, your minds were left in turmoil, struggling to make sense of the unexpected turn of events. The lines between friendship, attraction, and unresolved feelings had become blurred, and the path forward was uncertain. “I think I should go,” you say, slipping out of her grasp quickly, and leaving her home even with Bada’s voice telling you not to. You just walked and walked, your mind becoming scrambled more by the minute.

What the fuck were you suppose to do now?

When you found yourself in school the next day, you sat next to Yunjin and Aeri who spoke to each other, while your mind spaced off. The past few days were blurring together, and you were having a hard time keeping up with the two taller girls.

Haechi, ever perceptive, noticed the turmoil in your thoughts but she understood that it was not the right time to press you for an explanation or to make you feel any more overwhelmed. Instead, she decided that taking you out for fun would be a welcome distraction.

"Hey," Haechi said with a warm smile, gently taking your hand. "I can tell you've got a lot on your mind. How about we take a break from all this and have a bit of fun?" You nodded, grateful for the offer of an escape. "Yeah, that sounds nice."

Haechi whisked you away after school to a vibrant carnival, where the colorful lights and joyful atmosphere immediately began to work their magic. You both indulged in the various attractions and games, with Haechi displaying impressive skills in winning you prizes, all while sharing laughter and enjoying thrilling rides. The carnival food was a guilty pleasure, and you both indulged in cotton candy, popcorn, and all the delicious treats it had to offer.

As you prepared to part ways with Haechi, you couldn't help but express your gratitude. "Haechi, tonight was amazing. Thanks for taking my mind off everything. It means a lot." Haechi smiled warmly, her eyes reflecting genuine care. "I'm glad you had a good time. We all need a break sometimes, especially from the chaos of life."

Her unexpected affectionate peck on your cheek left you momentarily flustered. You stammered, "Oh, um... thanks." She chuckled, understanding the mixture of emotions you were going through. "Take your time to sort things out, okay? I'm here for you, whatever you need." With her reassuring words lingering in your mind, you continued your journey home, your thoughts in disarray. Questions swirled within you, and you couldn't help but wonder aloud, "What do I really feel? Is it Haechi or Bada who has my heart?"

The carnival had indeed offered a temporary escape from your complicated emotions, but it hadn't provided the answers you desired. Your feelings remained a complex web of affection and uncertainty, and you knew that the path ahead held many more twists and turns.

The confusion lingered as you continued working on the project with Bada. She extended an invitation to dinner after one of your study sessions, choosing a simple fast-food place where the atmosphere felt comfortable and familiar. The dimly lit diner, with its soft music playing in the background, provided a setting where conversations could be had.

As you both sat down with your meal, Bada took a deep breath, her eyes revealing a mixture of nervousness and determination. "There's something I need to say," she began, her voice earnest.

You nodded, urging her to continue. "Sure, go ahead."

Bada decided to lay everything on the table, her words filled with raw honesty. She opened up about her struggles, regrets, and the turmoil she had experienced during the time you were apart. "I want you to know that I haven’t been the best version of myself, especially after you left," she admitted, her gaze fixed on you. "I did some things that I'm not proud of, and I hurt you. I know that."

Her words hung in the air, and you could see the pain in her eyes. She continued, "I couldn't accept that you were gone, and I resorted to unhealthy ways to feel better. I was ashamed of myself, and I regret how I treated you." Her voice wavered, but she pushed forward. "I need you to know that I'm genuinely sorry for my actions. I wish I could take back what I did, but I can't. All I can do now is try to make things right."

The sincerity in Bada's words was strong, and it left you with a mix of emotions. You felt her honesty and wondered how to respond to her heartfelt confession. Yet she doesn’t rush you, and you appreciate it as you need to figure out this Haechi situation first.

So the next day in school, you built up the courage to talk to her during lunch. Pulling her up to the rooftop of the school, you breathed in the fresh air, trying to calm the nerves that began to course through your veins. Haechi, ever perceptive, noticed the changes in Bada's demeanor and your complex emotions.  She began with empathy, "I've seen the efforts Bada has been making to make amends, and I can tell that there are still feelings between you two."

You nodded, acknowledging the truth in her words. "Yeah." Her words were sweet but you felt more disgusted with yourself by the minute, it felt like you playing with her heart even if those weren’t your intentions. She gave you a reassuring smile, her eyes filled with understanding. "I want you to know that I respect your wishes and choices. I'm not here to pressure you or to make things more complicated. What matters most is your happiness."

That's when tears began to well in your eyes. You were certain you didn’t deserve her. "Haechi, I appreciate your understanding. It's just that everything feels so complicated right now." She gently squeezed your hand. "I don’t think it's THAT complicated Y/n. Just know that I'm here to support you, no matter what you decide."

The weight of the conversation hung in the air as you grappled with your feelings and the choices ahead. Haechi's understanding and support were a source of comfort, but the path you had to navigate remained uncertain and emotionally charged. You couldn't shake the guilt that had been creeping in, eating at you for using Haechi as a distraction from the stress and turmoil that Bada had brought into your life. You carried the weight of your actions with a heavy heart, and it was hard to look Haechi in the eye.

The silence between you was felt comforting but anxiety-inducing at the same time. It was Haechi who decided to break the tension. She reached out and gently touched your hand again, her voice delicate and understanding. "You may be the smartest girl in school, Y/n, but you're also human. You can't help who you fall for."

Her words carried a weight that resonated deeply within you. It was a bittersweet realization, one that tugged at your heartstrings. Haechi delivered it with a sad smile, acknowledging the complexity of your emotions. The guilt still lingered, but Haechi's understanding and support were a source of solace in the midst of your emotional turmoil.

That’s when Bada came into mind, and you smile a little at the thought of her pretty face. “You should go tell her.” You stare at Haechi like she grew three heads, and she laughs. “Why wait? The girl was beating herself up over you, I think it’s time to give her what she’s been wanting.” Her tone joked but you knew she was serious, so you impulsively got up and ran through the school, bumping into so many students in the process as you make your way to the cafeteria, knowing Bada and her friends would be there.

Once you see the oreo-haired girl sitting at their lunch table, you quickly drag her out to the school garden. Bada couldn’t even comprehend what was happening right now, just feeling the strong force drag her wrist.

When the two of you stop, she looks at you, a bit dizzy due to the dragging. “Y/n? Are you okay?” Bada asks, trying to snap herself out of the daze you put her in making you chuckle. “I’m sorry about dragging you all the way out here. But I just had to tell you now.”

“Tell me what?”

“That no matter what happened 6 months ago, I’ll still love your dumbass,” you say with a smile and Bada’s eyes go wide. A stupid grin forms on her face as she pulls you into a warm bearing hug. “I think I’ve finally been healed,” she jokes and you pull away, slapping her forehead as she laughs. Once she settles down, she softly touches your cheeks, giving you a loving kiss. You smile, and the thought of the two of you officially being together circulates in your brain. 

As she rests her forehead on yours, her gaze notices your goofy smile. “Why are you smiling like that?” She asks with a laugh, adoring the look on your face. “Would you wanna be mine?” The abrupt question had Bada pause, an amused chuckle left her lips, “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Oh, just answer the damn question,” you tell her as you roll her eyes. Your irritated reaction makes Bada smile again, pulling you into a strong embrace and she kisses the temple of your head, “Of course I’d love to be yours.” 

The two of you stare at the beautiful flowers, and Bada pulls away, cheesing again. “What now?”

“The top student’s officially mine.”

“Oh shut up,” you say with a soft giggle leaving your lips as you stare at your, finally, girlfriend.

Tag list (OPEN): @chipswsauce @nimixe @yooqui @eeeetaetterswife @efyyylee @froufrousnowman @amararosesblog @ssc7514 @kayascar @mrsdacherry @angel-hyuckie @letthemagicc @linda-botello @hyynee @only-minghaos @noraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @sun-nyy @tikitsune @xiakiyama @v2br33zyy

[bookshelf-dust]

the hurt is good

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi

billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 2,344

warnings: swearing, smoking, reader is lonely, descriptions of billy’s abuse, mentions of neil

a/n: hi! so i decided to challenge myself with this. i’m making this a multi-part story. i’ve never done anything like this before, but so far i’m enjoying it. i’m not entirely sure where we’re headed, but i’ve got a sort of outline in my head. i’ve also decided to try something else new, and i’ve picked out some songs that you can listen to before you read to get you in the mood—but only if you want of course. this is all a really new experience for me but i have put a lot of heart into this first part. i hope that you enjoy this, really i do. also the title is from a part of hop’s letter to el. <333

before you read, listen to: wheel in the sky by journey and/or (don’t fear) the reaper by blue oyster cult

————

Sitting cross-legged on your bed, you turn the page of the book in front of you, the sound of the paper flipping an audible one.

You lift the hardback, tuck your nose into the center of the pages and give it a sniff. It might be odd to do so, yes, but to you, books are the best smelling thing in the world.

You put it back down, go back to reading.

A knock breaks you out of your fantasy literature-induced stupor.

“Honey? Okay for me to come in?” Your mother’s voice, soft and sweet.

“Sure.” Your voice is quiet when you speak, though just loud enough for her to hear.

Your bedroom door opens enough for your mother to stand just inside, her back against the frame, one hand gently resting on the knob.

You reach for your bookmark, drape it over one side of the pages and then close it.

“Hey, kiddo.” Her smile is easy. You try your best to give her one of your own, but you know it falls short.

“Wendy and I are going out to dinner tonight and then to an art show.”

Wendy was your mother’s longtime best friend, and quite the riot.

“Apparently her new girlfriend is something of an artist.” She gives a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. “Do you think you’d like to tag along?”

You uncross your legs and stretch them out: contemplating. Then you do the same to your back, which makes an obscene crackling noise—enough to make the both of you grimace.

You know how you’ll feel if you go out with your mother and her friend.

You’ll be okay for the first little while, but then there will be too many people. You’ll get nervous. You will probably say something wrong and feel the need to shut down. You will shut down. Your hands will get shaky and you’ll get upset, and by the end of the night you’ll wish you hadn’t gone at all.

You know how you’ll feel if you stay home, too.

You’ll be fine, totally fine, having avoided everything you’d face in the other situation. But you’d be guilty. Guilty because you’re young and you won’t be going out to do whatever or making friends. You’ll feel like you’re failing your mom, who just wants you to experience things.

You decide that leaving your house shouldn’t require this much stress.

“No, I don’t think so,” you finally say. “But thank you for offering.”

You watch your mother as she moves further inside your room, settling on the edge of your bed.

“Are you sure?” She sets her hands on your knees, tapping her fingers, many a ring glinting in the overhead light of your room.

“We could get frozen yogurt. You know, I really think you’ve turned Wendy into a monster after we went last time. It’s all she talks about now.”

That gets a small smile out of you, but brings an ache to your chest.

“I’m sure. Don’t get too crazy, tonight, though. And be sure to let me know about her new partner.”

“Alright. Hug or no? What’s the affectionate meter at right now?”

“A hug is fine,” you say through a quiet laugh.

She wraps her arms carefully around your shoulders, allowing you to squeeze first, that way she can gauge what you need.

“I’ll leave some money out so you can order pizza, okay?” You nod. “Also there’s a pint of the ice cream you like in the freezer.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my little honeybee.” With a final pat of your knee and a wink sent in the direction of your book, your mother sweeps out of the room, and a little while later she is out the door.

Alone in the house, you let out an exhale, before heading to the kitchen.

Opening the designated take-out-menu-drawer, you scrounge for the one belonging to a local pizza place. You go ahead and order now, knowing that it might take awhile since the place is in downtown Hawkins.

You realize, setting the phone down, that you don’t know what to do with yourself once you’ve got the chance to do whatever you please.

You retrieve your book to read on the couch until your dinner arrives, not only for a change of scenery, but because you’ll need to be out in the living room to watch an episode of your favorite show in a while anyhow.

You’ve only sat momentarily when you hear it. Hear him. When you hear his music, specifically.

Billy Hargrove lives a few doors down from you, just close enough that you can always hear when he comes home, music blaring—not that differently from the volume you play it at when alone in your car—and doors slamming.

You don’t know him personally, only from school. Only as this pretty boy who’s been in Hawkins a few months.

You know enough that you hate the way people at school look at him. Like he’s an object. Like he’s this foreign being just because he came all the way from sunny California. The way they talk about him. About his ass, or his car, or his little redhead sister.

You know he’s pretty. You’d never deny that. But he’s just like the rest of you, and it bothers you that people treat him—at least from what you’ve seen—like this all-powerful dude.

But you also know enough that you think maybe he doesn’t have the best home life, just from what you’ve seen when you’re not out—which is always.

Sometimes you see him walking up and down the street at various times during the day. Or you hear his car speed off.

Sometimes, though really only sometimes, you see him trailing his sister while she skateboards, either talking or sitting while she goes.

To you, he seems like a loner.

And maybe it’s because you’re one too that you see him that way. That you can see him that way.

————

Outside, Billy cups his hand around his cigarette. It’s seemingly out of habit, since it’s not windy out. His thumb slides along the spark wheel of his lighter once, twice before the flame catches. The tip glows red in the night.

He walks a little further, as he inhales deeply, closing his eyes and soaking it in. He kicks a rock, hard, trying to see if it’ll hit the post of the mailbox a few feet ahead of him.

He watches a pizza delivery car ride by and pull into a driveway. He hasn’t made it very far on his walk. The walk he wouldn’t be taking because it’s pretty damn cold outside.

But Neil Hargrove wasn’t aware that Max Mayfield had joined the Hawkins AV Club, and when there was no Max at home, he took it out on Billy, telling him he was an irresponsible waste of space.

It took Susan getting home with her daughter and explaining the situation for Neil to calm down.

But Billy’s back was aching from where he’d been slammed up against a doorframe, and frankly he wanted nothing more than to get out of the house.

So here he was.

A porch light flicked on as if whoever was inside had been waiting on that pizza. You had been—sitting on the couch and listening for car sounds.

When the delivery guy rings the doorbell you appear, and Billy realizes he knows you. That he goes to school with you. You’re very quiet. He also thinks your very pretty, and he’s never noticed that before.

You look very comfortable; all of your clothes seem to be too big. With the way the yellow outside light hits you, it gives your face a multitude of shadows. Billy thinks about some of the greek statues he learned about in a history class back when he lived in California. About how artists tended to sculpt women with real bodies.

Shit, he thinks. He’s probably staring at you. But you really are very pretty.

On the stoop, you take the pizza and set it on the table just inside the door and then hand the guy his money.

You decide not to be a dick and make sure that he gets out okay. When he backs out, you catch a flash of red out of the corner of your eye.

You wouldn’t be able to see him if it weren’t for the street lights. Billy is looking at you. You smile at him, and to your surprise, he smiles back.

“You okay?” You ask, hoping that your voice carries to him, because you don’t feel like shouting.

You watch him shrug and take another drag of his cigarette. The fingers on his free hand fidget with the ring he’s wearing, and you pretend not to notice.

“You?” He questions in return. Something about the sound of his voice makes you feel warm inside.

You shrug back, and he lets out a breath of a laugh, before you turn around to go inside and he continues with his walk.

You kick the door shut and lock it behind you, thinking about Billy.

That is the most extensive conversation you’ve ever had with him, aside from one a few days after he started at Hawkins High, when he didn’t know where the auditorium was, so you walked him the whole way there. You were pretty sure he’d been embarrassed to have to ask for help, but you hadn’t been bothered at all.

In fact, that exchange outside was the most conversation you’d had with anyone outside of your mother in a while.

Most days you didn’t say a word at school, keeping to yourself, trying to get homework done any chance you could so that it didn’t actually become homework. Sometimes you had to speak with a teacher though, and of course you said thank you when someone held a door—but that was it.

Quite frankly you didn’t know what to think. Part of you hoped you’d see him again. That you’d make a friend.

You hadn’t had a friend in a very long time.

————

When your mother returns home, it is with many beans to spill.

Wendy’s new partner, who you found out was named Stephanie, was, in your mother’s words, “Hot enough to go gay for.”

Your mother had also undoubtedly had some to drink while out and about.

“Also that boy from down the street? Don’t you go to school with him?”

You start fussing with a string on your sleeve. “Yeah, why?”

“Well he was brooding on his porch when Wendy retrieved me, and he’s still wandering around outside. It’s been,” she checked her watch, “three hours.”

You scratch at your nose, thinking.

“I saw him when the pizza got here.”

Your mother hums. “Well, I’m going to go shower the art gallery off of me and then probably stay up too late reading.”

“Okay.”

She smiles sweetly at you, collecting the pile of rings and other jewelry that she’d taken off and set on the counter while talking to you, and then you’re alone again.

You flatten your body over the countertop, bending at the waist and stretching so that your fingers can grip the other side.

You think about Billy out there. He was obviously going through something. And maybe it isn’t any of your business, but you hate the idea of him being alone, wallowing in self-pity. Not that you have any room to talk.

You straighten, walking carefully so as to not allow your socked feet to slip along the floor, and find yourself reaching for your coat.

Shoving your feet into a pair of shoes, you flip on the porch light once again, and make your way outside.

Across the street, Billy is resting against a low wall that has a mailbox set into it.

Looking both ways out of habit, you make your way towards him, stopping a few feet away. He looks up at you, both hands on the brick underneath him. There is a half-finished cigarette in one of his hands. You find yourself wondering how much he’d smoked since he’d been out here.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He quirks a brow at you.

“You’ve been out here a long time, you know that?”

Billy glances at his watch. “Seems so.”

“Not cold?”

“‘M fucking freezing my ass off out here.”

You try and choose your words carefully, not wanting to push too hard. “Seems like you could solve that problem if you went inside.”

“Are you worried about me or something, Y/N?”

Trying not to think about the way your name sounded leaving his mouth, you admit to your crimes.

“Yeah, actually. You were out here earlier, and my mom said she saw you when she left and when she got home. I didn’t like the idea of you being alone.”

Something in Billy’s face softens. “Yeah?”

You exhale, your breath leaving a plume of air in front of you.

“Yeah.”

“Well then I guess I better get my ass inside, huh?”

You stuff your hands into your pockets and realize what you’ve got in there.

“Here.” You pull out a little hand warmer packet an hold it out to him.

Billy laughs. It’s a beautiful sound, you think. Charming and hearty. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

————

At school Monday, you make your way to the lunch table you’ve claimed, grass squishing under your feet.

You flip open your book, shove one leg under you.

It’s only been a little while of munching on grapes and forcing yourself to concentrate before you feel a weight drop onto the bench across from you, shifting the old table a little.

You look up. Billy Hargrove looks back.

He throws his bag on the worn wood, slaps a book of his own on top of that.

You’re confused at his appearance, and he seems to sense that.

“I didn’t like the idea of you being alone.”

You feel yourself heat up, and sit on one of your hands because you also feel like you could cry.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[faunandfloraas]

Aussie question time: when I find out an idol is American/Canadian, their image in my mind completely changes because now it’s like “Oh I know exactly who you are, I grew up with your type around me” there are subtleties that I’m going to understand that others might not. So with all that said, I’ve been curious about what that’s like (if you experience it) w the skz aussies (throw in a lily if you’re feeling it -v-) 🎤

this is wayyyyyy too long so I'm putting it under a read more- also disclaimer: i dont know these guys and these are just my opinions, dont take em too srs <3

Hmmmm... Well I guess I'll start with Felix- I've said it before a bunch but the whole "Felix is a tiny uwuw baby sweet summerchild who is just such a baby" etc. etc. has made me laugh from the get go- because Yep! he is incredibly sensitive and sweet natured and kind and he cries a lot- 100% that is true. Dont think I'm saying it's not. But like. He also grew up in western sydney, he grew up in a area that if you google it one of the first suggestions is "is it safe" but then at the same time he went to private catholic school im pretty sure. and i saw pics from back then that he'd posted back in the day of cool little felix with his gold watch and his fade and all his little homeboys looking rowdy on the train- I know that kid and while that kid can also be sweet and sensitive, he's not incapable and hes not a baby. Good recent example was when he went on that Jewel box show with the gay dudes and people were acting like he was *so uncomfortable* and sooooo out of his element and so this and so that- theres gay dudes all over sydney, there's gay dudes all over australian media- the idea felix couldnt handle that was simply laughable to me- but it kinda shows how many outside perceptions of him still very much fall into that vaguely infantalizing thing. Like when he was the one who was happy to go up to adam levine and dj snake in that skz talker while the other boys were much more shy? that didnt shock me at all. felix went to korea as a whole teenager laregly against his parent wishes- he's actually quite an outgoing and brave guy. Outgoing guys can still be sweeties, though- one doesn't negate the other.

One other aspect of Felix i think a lot of fans just gloss over but is easily noticeable by me is that he can kindaaaaaa be ... a lil bitchy? like he's never ever mean or cruel dont get me wrong- but he has a slight bitchy streak, he rolls his eyes AND he's actually much more sarcastic than people bring up? Again- he does it a lot with Chan and that doesnt shock me- they both are aussie boys, Chan will get it and I think Felix can very much be himself with Chan, he doesn't necessarily feel the need to put up an extra air of like... Sweetie boy-ness? bc when he calls chan a cunt on live chan just laughs and goes OI!! so yuh the main thing with felix is while i do think hes a little sweet guy, ive never from the get go had a hard time seeing him outside of that box, too. Also maybe that's a lil bit aussie humour slipping under the radar here or there 🤔

Chan to me from the get go too was pretty much like. Prototypical overachieving aussie Good Boy. Like, i had a drafted post i never posted bc it was too niche- but it was essentially about how he speaks about sports and the like, and it just said "We get it. You went to zone carnival" which was the sporting event that the kids who got gold or 1st place were sent to. If you went to zone, you were the Successful kid. I think these days most fans perceive him as... a bit of a goofy guy? but I have gone through the archives and i have seen the comments from people talking about how chans such a bad boy- thats shit is so funny to me bc you can show me every iteration of chan and I'd never, ever think he's a bad boy. Like he wishes he was a bad boy, he kinda cosplays a bad boy- even him referencing swearing bc of his australianess and shit over the years makes me giggle a little bc i feel like felix def 100% swears all the time but he doesnt like Smirk about it too much? he doesnt really bring it up? things like that stand out, it to me feels very like Oh yeah I'm this naughty Aussie boy who swears hehe and then all the australians are like ? Girl we all do huh lmao

Otherwise, I dont have as much to say about chan as i do about felix, funnily. Like idk people might perceive differently to me, but nothing too far off? I will say that given Chan's success and the fact he was seemingly a very well achieving kid too (maybe not debuting for such a long time is part of this) he is WAY more humble than I'd expect. Like not to besmirch Australian men but a lot of them can be really loud and cocky, especially the famous successful ones (any sport star) it's almost encouraged to be like that if you're a dude (but only to a certain degree, anything beyond a certain point and you'll be roasted lol) So I have to give credit where it's due and say that Chan *Seemingly does have a very good nature and I appreciate that about him! Its probably why I like him so much bc he actually very much doesn't give off those vibes- he doesn't seem like that overly macho cocky bloke I know very well. So that makes him good fun for me- he's very successful and he's confident and yet he doesn't activate any of my bitch instincts- thats impressive! I don't know him, so I'll never know for sure of course, i feel like i need to make that disclaimer but still I do believe he has a good heart, and he tries so hard! and I appreciate that.

Lily is weirdly like Chan. like she's hilariously like chan tbh- I wonder how they really get along sometimes bc I feel like they might look at each other and be like Hm... we the same............ ? Lmao I will say though, lily is a bit out of pocket and half of that I believe is her personality but half of it is just.... I think she's just australian 😭 like i cant lie you get me as a teenager to early 20 something and put me on a live and I can promise I would be saying as much ?? shit. Like, I do think Australians are a little loud and not necessarily always.... tactful (again Not everyone, but yk.) lily certainly fits that bill to a T. I appreciate that regardless of her idolhood she does still say things that maybe she shouldn't, she shrugs off a shoplifting confession, she says she'd murder someone if she had to, she bought and wore a shirt that fans quickly tracked down and found out all the proceeds were going to Palestine- she would have known what that suggested. she clearly had this goal of being an idol since she was a baby, like literal baby but she hasn't sacrificed her broader personality, even the parts that could potentially be off-putting to those idol fans that expect perfection and nothing else. I appreciate that in her! and I hope she never loses her little weird girl spark bc it does make her very dynamic! Her slightly gruff aussie girlness is very fun for me to see in the idolsphere bc it def feels out of place, but in a refreshing way...

so yeah. Idk if this was sensical, I was making dinner so I put my phone down a bunch and it's probably disjointed but thats my opinion... my thoughts, my ideas! Idk my take on them. Thanks for asking 🫡

[cupiohearts]

CANT CATCH ME NOW ?! - leaving them behind

they see you everywhere. james, jonggun, joongoo. they find bits and pieces of you lying around in their pockets, their houses and memories. it depends on which one it is which scene they see you in.

DG VER. gun ver. goo ver.

for james, he sees the sight of you in the crowd when he first started as an idol. he catches himself hoping for a glimpse of you in crowds as he did before. maybe you just show up at one of his concerts one day. he knows its a childish hope to think you'll come back. especially not when theyve all pushed you out of their lives.

but was it such a hopeless thought to have? a particulary fond memory of seeing you in the front row at barricade. hopping down and singing his lyrics to your face. fans thought you were just a really lucky person to catch the attention of DG, minimizing it to a harmless fan interaction moment just for the concert.

he loved the way your eyes twinkled underneath the stage light illuminating your face in a mesmerizing glow. he recalled the heartbreak when they were all gathered up at your apartment.

it had become a haunting memory of seeing the house abandoned. the only thing left was a small ragged old scarf you insisted on keeping

"yknow! one day for my super awesome snowman! ive been waiting for winter to come in korea so snow is finally here!" you tell him with a giddy grin at the mall. your loose baby strands around your face and your face bare with nothing on it standing out to him.

you always mentioned you wanted to experience the snow. you said you didnt have it where you were from. far too sunny for that you said.

"you wont have to wait long. it get cold fast in korea" he tells you. chuckling as you hold the scarf in your hand while picking out more winter items.

how unfortunate. it was snowing right now. he wondered where youve gone. maybe youve died off, its better for him that way. that way he wont have to think about whether or not youve settled down yet. maybe gone back to your old country or somehwere new.

maybe youre out on a date somewhere, possibly 6 feet down in a ditch. his mind wanders when it comes to you.

reading the note you left behind for him. written in a sparkly pen you always used.

"why do you have so many pens and only use one?!" he questions you with a raised eyebrow. his long fingers unzipping your pencil pouch and looking through all the pens you own.

"you cant expect me to use all of them. plus my papers look sparkly this way and its cute. the design is cute and i like how it writes!" you chirp at him. turning behind you and hitting his forehead with your pen. "red hair... i like you with your curly red hair. reminds me of someone i used to know" you tell him.

curling his hair around your pen before dropping it when you hear the teacher say your name and turning back to the board. your hair whipping him in the face "im innocent!" you joke with your hands raised causing the class to laugh.

you tell him youre sorry in the note. that you couldnt handle it anymore.

you tell him everything but telling him nothing at the same time. telling him of how you felt like everyone else was moving while you were stuck in the present. everyone was special and you were not.

he let the paper drop down after skimming the rest of its contents. he wished to just crumple it up and tossed it away. he couldn't.

he knew he was being selfish wanting you back when youve clearly stated in the note this was out of youre pure will, leaving them behind. he wouldve cried. he wouldve cried if he was james lee.

all he could do was pick it back up and meet back with gun, and goo.

it was gonna all be in one set page but i found that it was longer than most of my other projects if i actually completed this whole

so i broke it up

like the friend group

ha

i caught up with lookism

i like the new pretty boys :3

ALSO QLSO I HAD AN ENTIRLY SEPRATE DOCUMENT FROM THIS AND I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED MY UNFINISHED STUFF BC I ACCIDETNALY POSTED IT INSTEAD OF COICKING DRAFT SO I HAD TO COPY AND PASTE ALL OF THIS PARAGRAPH BY PARAGRAPH TO THIS PAGE THINGY BC IM ON THE PHONE TYPING ALL PF US THIS SO A+ FOR WFFORT

did not proof read (bc im insecure abt my works 😔🤞)

[allthegothihopgirls]

just finished reading death in the family properly and. whoo the racist undertones are racist undertoning. but uh. wanted to say that i cannot understand why people hated jason back then because like. he’s just a kid. he’s a KID. shaking 80s fans by the shoulders he’s a CHILD. he’s not gonna be a mature adult he’s gonna be a little weird and a little annoying even!! but he is a KID.

also wanted to ask your opinions on the jason has chronic pain headcanon? i personally as someone w chronic pain really enjoy it because it makes sense and i am a firm believer that we need more representation of invisible disabilities like some chronic pain is (and mine is) but ive heard a few people say they don’t like it

— baptism anon

right?? like yeah i think jason dying was the most beneficial thing to ever happen to his character, and he also had next-to-no defining traits as robin apart from being a dick grayson carbon-copy + replacement... but i don't get why people hated him.

~

jason w/ chronic pain!!!!!! oh boy i have feelings about him... i LOVE.

especially when it's death-induced.. a bit like phantom feeling/pain, but instead it is. very. real. like, he has chronic joint pain in places where joker hit him a few too many times etc. personally i reject the 'lazarus pit made him squeaky clean' canon, so on top of him keeping all his scars, and being more frankenstein than man.. chronic pain fits in very well.

i also definitely enjoy headcanons of him with chronic migraines.. not because i'm projecting.

i think it's a pretty agreed-upon headcanon that jason isn't a fan of medication in the slightest, due to his mother's death (only making exceptions when he's sustained more than a minor injury on patrol or a mission and is being tended to).

so i propose, stubborn jason w/ chronic migraines, who will never admit to needing actual medication. obviously he isn't going to be stupid about it, he won't patrol if it's too bad, and maybe tries to ward it off with some regular ibuprofen. but he is so against being properly medicated for prevention or treatment, and gets super defensive if dick or bruce suggest it to him.

he's always in varying levels of head hurt™ and just. lives with it. in the comfort of his own apartment he's definitely not a stranger to herbal teas and heat packs though.. however at the same time he's 100% beating himself up whenever he can't just power through.

i don't think he'd actively tell anyone either. dick figures it out from the way he'll rub at his temples post-patrol, or maybe a couple of unclosed search tabs on a computer 'whydoesmyheadalwayshurt' or 'home remedies: how to naturally prevent migraines'

for bruce finding out i have a bit more of a developed idea. jason's gone out patrolling with a migraine, against his better judgement. he's on comms with bruce, who's getting his assistance on a case he's been tracking. seemingly out of nowhere he hisses a little in pain, and bruce is asking what's wrong.

jason grows defensive quickly and spurts out a routine "imfinedontworry" but was apparently not convincing enough because before he knows it bruce is asking "status?" ..and he swears there's a microchip in him somewhere that forces him to give a truthful answer, because it's not like he wants to tell bruce his head's hurting, because that's just plain embarrassing. he doesn't want people thinking that he can't handle pain that miniscule.

between that and the other times he's been asked "red hood, report" and stated his condition, adding on a "head hurts a bit too, but that's just normal".. it wasn't difficult for bruce to suspect something unusual.

moving away from migraines, i think he also experiences chronic joint pain. compared to the previously mentioned, it's easier to play joint pain off as 'normal' and convince himself there's no cause for concern. he's 100% in denial of having an actual issue, which i'd like to think somewhat comes from bruce experiencing the exact same thing, and jason watching him absolutely refuse to admit any weakness it causes him.

he ends up believing it's just something that happens to everyone (well, at least everyone who dresses up and fights crime on the regular). jason's confused when dick's asking him if he wants to stick around for a chat post-patrol, because is dick not also desperate to go home, ice his joints, and spend time doing stretches to ease his pain before finally getting some sleep?????

i don't think he'd realise that it isn't a normal thing until he's called out on it. maybe he makes an off-comment about 'never feeling 75%, let alone 100%' comfort-wise, and damian remarks how that is. an issue. jason's instantly defending himself "yeah well that's just what happens when you've been in the business for this long-" and dick chimes in to point out that he doesn't feel like that. from there i think he goes to an even larger effort to hide any pain he's in.

big believer in jason being a cane user too. i think babs is the one who convinces him to start using one, after the events of this panel ↓ ↓ ↓ 

you cannot tell me that she's letting that comment slide: "that book looked... useful" plus "i don't think i've ever been okay", ok jason mr 'i really resonated with this and now i'm having revelations' todd.

she's 100% sitting his ass down for a real talk about whatever he has going on.

and i think afterwards, babs suggests that he really considers mobility aids. to which i think he ends up being very accidentally ableist, in the 'but those are for old people' way. it takes... a lot to reverse his somewhat internalised ableism, and get him to at least try a mobility aid out.

he grows less opposed to it as he realises that it's not something he's obligated to use all the time, and that it works. so he uses a cane around his apartment, and around the manor when he gets to be confident enough (he's a bit worried of people asking questions, but no one even bats an eye, because it just makes sense).

i have a whole other set of thoughts about the batfamily + how they go about jason using a cane... but i think i've gone on for long enough.. my apologies

in conclusion... chronic pain!jason todd is a HUGE headcanon of mine. love it a lot.

[venny-the-mha-writer]

Sanemi x child reader

———

Sanemi strode through the hospital hallways, his typical scowl etched deep on his face. He wasn’t one for hospitals, but today, he was visiting a fellow comrade who had been injured during a mission. As he passed by one of the rooms, a soft voice caught his attention.

Inside, he saw a small child, sitting up in bed with an IV attached to her arm. She looked so tiny and frail, but there was a quiet strength about her as she hummed a little tune while flipping through a picture book. Sanemi stopped at the door, watching for a moment longer than he intended.

The child noticed him and looked up, blinking in surprise. "Hello!" she greeted, her eyes bright despite her condition.

Sanemi froze. He wasn’t used to being spoken to so freely, especially by children. His usual gruff nature kicked in. “Uh, hey,” he muttered awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

The child smiled sweetly. “What’s your name? I’m (Y/n).”

Sanemi blinked, feeling a little out of his element. “I’m Sanemi,” he grunted, but there was a softness in his tone he didn’t expect.

"Nice to meet you, Sanemi!" (Y/n) chirped, and for some reason, her cheerful demeanor tugged at something in his heart.

Over the next few days, Sanemi found himself coming back to the hospital more frequently—not just to visit his comrade, but to check on (Y/n). He couldn’t explain it, but there was something about her that drew him in. He’d sit by her bedside, bringing her books to read or toys to play with. He didn’t have much experience with kids, but (Y/n) didn’t seem to mind. She’d tell him stories, and Sanemi would listen, quietly watching her grow a little stronger each day.

As time passed, Sanemi found himself growing attached to the little girl. Every time he walked into her room, her face would light up, and she’d call his name with such excitement that it made his heart swell. He didn’t understand why he felt this way, but being around her brought a sense of peace he hadn’t known in a long time.

But one day, when Sanemi arrived at the hospital with a new book and toy in hand, he found the room empty. The bed was made, and the machines were gone. Panic gripped his chest. “Where is she?” he asked the nurse frantically.

“Oh, (Y/n) was discharged this morning,” the nurse replied with a kind smile. “She’s in much better health now.”

Sanemi felt his heart sink. “Discharged?” he muttered. She had left, and he hadn’t even been there to say goodbye.

---

Over the next few weeks, Sanemi found himself feeling unusually down. The other Hashira couldn’t help but notice the change in his demeanor. He was more irritable than usual, quieter during meetings, and seemed lost in thought.

“Something’s bothering him,” Mitsuri whispered to the others one day. “He’s been so different lately.”

Giyuu nodded quietly. “It’s strange. Even for him.”

The Hashira gathered together, curious about what was going on. After some careful observation and a few discreet questions, they figured out that Sanemi had been visiting a sick child at the hospital—a child who had been discharged recently.

“We need to find her,” Rengoku declared, his usual exuberance shining through. “Sanemi clearly cares about her. Let’s find out where she is.”

And so, the Hashira banded together, working behind the scenes without Sanemi knowing. After some searching, they discovered that (Y/n) had been sent to an orphanage. The news saddened them, but it also gave them an idea.

---

A few days later, Sanemi sat on the steps of his estate, staring off into the distance. His thoughts kept drifting back to (Y/n). He missed her. He had never expected to grow so attached, but now that she was gone, there was an empty feeling in his chest.

Just as he was about to stand up and head back inside, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Looking up, he saw the familiar faces of the other Hashira, standing just outside his gate.

“What the hell are you all doing here?” he barked, frowning at them.

Before any of them could answer, a small voice rang out. “Sanemi!”

Sanemi’s heart skipped a beat as he turned to see (Y/n) running toward him, her arms outstretched. Without thinking, Sanemi rushed toward her, scooping her up into his arms. He spun her around, her giggles filling the air as she clung to his neck.

“(Y/n),” Sanemi whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re here…”

She smiled brightly. “I missed you, Sanemi!”

Sanemi hugged her tighter, burying his face in her shoulder. “I missed you too, kid.”

The other Hashira watched the reunion with fond smiles. After a moment, Rengoku stepped forward. “We found her at the orphanage,” he explained, his voice warm. “We thought she’d be happier with you.”

Sanemi’s jaw clenched as he turned to face them. “You spied on me?” he snapped, though his grip on (Y/n) never loosened.

Mitsuri giggled. “We just wanted to help!”

Sanemi huffed, his expression softening slightly. “Tch, thanks… I guess,” he muttered, turning his attention back to (Y/n), though his heart swelled with gratitude.

As the other Hashira waved goodbye and left the estate, Sanemi sat down on the steps, holding (Y/n) close. For the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of peace. She was here, with him, and now, she wouldn’t have to leave.

“You’re gonna live with me now,” Sanemi said, his voice quiet but filled with warmth.

“Forever?” (Y/n) asked, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

Sanemi nodded, a rare, genuine smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, forever.”

———

Come eat y’all!!!

[sophieinwonderland]

i have a question, if youre willing to answer.

i dont want resources, i’ve likely already read them.

we’re a traumagenic programmed system. typically the thought of someone without trauma having this disorder upsets us, because what we went through was so severe that it seems unfair to people without trauma to have to live the same hell as us.

it seems like the only reason someone would be a system without trauma would be by choice.

i would like to hear your explanation for endogenic systems. as i already said, ive read plenty of journals on non trauma based plurality. i dont include spiritual plurality as to me that is an entirely different field.

all i would like to know is your version or perspective of why endogenic systems exist without any trauma whatsoever. when i say this, i mean the type of formative years that would leave a singlet with fondest memories of childhood, nothing bad or stressful, a peaceful parents and environment, etc.

this is not for syscourse, i dont engage with negativity like that.

im open to learning, and i will always peacefully coexist with opposing views to my own, but again, i do my research and have already read many of both the popular and obscure journals on non trauma based plurality that i have found.

-

i dont know if you’ll answer this, though i do hope so, and im not sure how often you get anonymous asks like this, but just in case, you can consider me as anon M.

much respect to you, and i hope you have a good day/night.

-M

Sure!

I'm curious if, in your research, you've also looked into studies into "imagined companions."

These are what I actually find most interesting. Now, "imagined companion" is a loaded term from a singlet-normative perspective that ASSUMES a single consciousness per body. But recent research into ICs have shown a reality that is far more complicated than that, with a majority of ICs seemingly possessing will of their own.

Current research shows about a third of ICs appear to be fully controlled by the host child. These are pretty much what you imagine they would be when you hear terms like "imaginary friend" thrown around. These aren't what I'm interested in.

At the other end of the spectrum are researchers call "noncompliant" imaginary friends. These do have will of their own but exhibit harmful and often bullying behavior. I think many of these would be traumagenic in nature, or at least trauma-affected. If a child's IC is bullying them, that hints that something has likely gone wrong in their homelife, and they're emulating toxic behaviors.

What I find most interesting then is this middle third. Those who demonstrate autonomy while being generally supportive, positive relationships in the lives of their hosts.

It's in this group that we find the strongest evidence of natural multiplicity in children. And it's a pretty massive percentage of the population.

Some studies have shown more than 60% of children have had imagined companions in childhood before the age of 7.

Extrapolating, this means as many as 40% of children, 2 in every 5, would experience childhood plurality, with other people in their heads with their own will.

About 1-in-5 would fall into the category of having these sorts of positive childhood headmates.

To me, the issue isn't a question of why natural multiplicity exists. It seems to me that it just does. Some people are just naturally multiple in childhood.

To me, the issue is what happens to it afterwards. Where do these headmates go? Why do some people keep them?

For the first question, this seems a result of forced conformity. Tell children that their ICs aren't real and that they need to outgrow them, and the ICs will either be forced into dormancy or fuse with the host child.

Their singlethood is sociogenic.

But a fraction will remain. The ICs will be stronger than normal or the host child won't let go of them. And they'll stick around to adulthood. Since they "know" a simple imaginary friend can't be real or think for themselves, they may turn to spiritual explanations for what they experience.

Most will feel alone in their experiences, feel crazy, and never tell others about these headmates.

I'll also add that these systems are usually unable to switch. Switching appears to usually need a dissociative capacity from either intentional dissociative practices such as those in tulpamancy and many spiritual practices, or from trauma.

These systems can learn to switch but it's not inherent to their plurality.

Those are my thoughts anyway! Good day to you too, and thanks for the question! 😁💖

[toadboatt]

For funsies so i dont overthink myself into oblivion, let me start this out by saying "Imagine i am an osdd system" and i will refer to myself as though thats true (i am undiagnosed with denial cycles that terrify me even though i have a lot of evidence supporting my thoughts. Im trying to be respectful, please be nice to me and correct me if this isnt right in any way)

So i just made a comment on another user's post talking about this and i needed to elaborate for myself.

Before realizing i could be a part of a system, we were in a long term relationship and after highschool we became a distanced couple (He was at a univeristy 2.5 hours away but i didnt see him often due to other circumstances). But once we didn't see him every day, it became more and more obvious to me that there were different "versions" of myself. At least two big ones, me when im with him, and me when im home. And the longer time i spent away from him, the more i realized the switch in myself. Memories with him would be fuzzy, i'd be by myself again and realize i was acting so differently when i was with him, but he said i was being he same as usual .

Flash foward, im fighting with myself for months because of the personality switch, but I just thought it was just HEAVY autism masking, even though i couldnt stop, and I felt veryyy disconnected when "masking". My memories were greying and i felt off, like i was watching myself live through a screen. Then, it happened. The part of me that would come out when i was around him stopped showing up. She felt noticably absent.. where did she go?? Then i realized it was strange of me to refer to "myself" as if she was separate from me. Before, i was her and myself interchangebly, but suddenly, it was just me. I was pushed to the front 100%. And i felt so empty when i was with him.. and i didnt LOVE him the same way... i felt lost without her.

Two years later, im host and ive cut my hair and dyed it, gotten tattoos and piercings she never wouldve dreamed of, and i dumped him. My life is totally different now, and also im a transguy now and i started researching systems to make it all make sene. However, shes not entirely GONE though, i still feel her in the back of my mind. Especially since i broke up with my ex. I hear her crying and i feel her pain when thinking of him. Everything i think of him or hear from him (we stayed friends) i can feel her mourning over again. But i feel... nothing. Its like the only emotions i feel about it are just her haunting my mind but those feelings arent mine. She never fronts or really talks, just sits back and watches. Funny too because i think shes the only part of me thats a woman.

Anyways. I forgot the point of this, i just wanted to talk about it i guess.. i think because writing that comment fully contextualized that whole experience for me.. if youve had any similar experiences let me know! Im eager to hear other points of views since i'd say im still in the researching phase lol, thanks for reading if you did. (:

[agentrouka-blog]

(1/7) You know @rose-of-red-lake's theory about Dany being eaten by one of her dragons? The imagery used in these passages reminded me of these in AGoT, Arya III and Arya IV where she stumbles upon the dragons skulls under the Red Keep:

(7) I wonder if it could foreshadow Arya being the one killing the last living dragon(s?) after it goes fully wild and kills even its own “mother”. It would tie nicely with her training amongst the Faceless Men who were originally slaves working under the Fourteen Flames of Valyria and may be behind the Doom but also with Brandon Snow who wanted to assassinate Balerion Vhagar and Meraxes but was talked out of it by his brother. Arya the Dragonslayer sounds like quite the epic tale. Any thoughts?

Hi anon!

I left out the in-between messages, as they contained the relevant book quotes here, for ease of reading:

By the time she had reached eighty-seven, the room had begun to lighten as her eyes adjusted to the blackness. Slowly the shapes around her took on form. Huge empty eyes stared at her hungrily through the gloom, and dimly she saw the jagged shadows of long teeth. She had lost the count. She closed her eyes and bit her lip and sent the fear away. When she looked again, the monsters would be gone. Would never have been. She pretended that Syrio was beside her in the dark, whispering in her ear. Calm as still water, she told herself. Strong as a bear. Fierce as a wolverine. She opened her eyes again. The monsters were still there, but the fear was gone. Arya got to her feet, moving warily. The heads were all around her. She touched one, curious, wondering if it was real. Her fingertips brushed a massive jaw. It felt real enough. The bone was smooth beneath her hand, cold and hard to the touch. She ran her fingers down a tooth, black and sharp, a dagger made of darkness. It made her shiver. "It's dead," she said aloud. "It's just a skull, it can't hurt me." Yet somehow the monster seemed to know she was there. She could feel its empty eyes watching her through the gloom, and there was something in that dim, cavernous room that did not love her. She edged away from the skull and backed into a second, larger than the first. For an instant she could feel its teeth digging into her shoulder, as if it wanted a bite of her flesh. Arya whirled, felt leather catch and tear as a huge fang nipped at her jerkin, and then she was running. Another skull loomed ahead, the biggest monster of all, but Arya did not even slow. She leapt over a ridge of black teeth as tall as swords, dashed through hungry jaws, and threw herself against the door. (AGOT, Arya III)

and

This time the monsters did not frighten her. They seemed almost old friends. Arya held the candle over her head. With each step she took, the shadows moved against the walls, as if they were turning to watch her pass. "Dragons," she whispered. She slid Needle out from under her cloak. The slender blade seemed very small and the dragons very big, yet somehow Arya felt better with steel in her hand. (AGOT, Arya IV)

There is definitely a strong association between Arya and a confrontation with dragons. Whether that is simply being present during the burning of King's Landing, or whether this involves more is something I am not sure of.

I've moved away a bit from the idea of Arya killing Dany directly, but I don't doubt that her Faceless Man training, Syrio's training, her experiences in tunnels and darkness, warging, spying and deception will play a significant role.

I felt curiously reminded of this scene from ADWD, where Quentyn enters the dragon lair in the basement of the pyramid:

It was black beyond the doors, a sullen stygian darkness that seemed alive and threatening, hungry. Quentyn could sense that there was something in that darkness, coiled and waiting. Warrior, grant me courage, he prayed. He did not want to do this, but he saw no other way. Why else would Daenerys have shown me the dragons? She wants me to prove myself to her. Gerris handed him a torch. He stepped through the doors. The green one is Rhaegal, the white Viserion, he reminded himself. Use their names, command them, speak to them calmly but sternly. Master them, as Daenerys mastered Drogon in the pit. The girl had been alone, clad in wisps of silk, but fearless. I must not be afraid. She did it, so can I. The main thing was to show no fear. Animals can smell fear, and dragons … What did he know of dragons? What does any man know of dragons? They have been gone from the world for more than a century. (ADWD, The Dragontamer)

Darkness. No fear. Animals. Courage. Something you simply have to do. Something a girl can do.

Maybe, maybe not.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Phullo there, I’d like to ask you a question! I hope I won’t be such a bothersome.

So, I’m planning to write a story about Laughingstock and since I find your storytelling very pleasing I figured it’d be a great idea to ask for your advice about the writing!

My Idea in general for this story is just Howdy taking a day off from working in his bodega. And basically, he’ll be just wearing normal clothes.. shocking truly.

And thennn, Barnaby and Howdy accidentally stumbled into each other’s path. They later then of course had a very long conversation that lasted until evening maybe.

Of course there’ll be some fishy moments like them looking at each other with goggly eyes and other cheesy romantic nonsense- but it’s just mainly them having their usual conversation with a ‘couple’ of jokes here and there. It’s supposed to be a sweet memory for them to remember basically.

So, what I’m really trying to ask you for is- how the heck do you start a story exactly and not make it into just the dialogues? Like, I want my story to be kind of long but I’m afraid it’ll be just them, y’know, talking and I really don’t want it to be boring.. therefore, I really need your help.

I am so sorry if it’s such a bad timing considering the fact that you just had an interview which I am very proud for you for that! Even if it didn’t go as expected at least you did good half of it.

Soo, yeah! I’d very much appreciate your advice and I am sooo sorry that this was soo long!!! And again, a bad timing too.. but hey if you got any time, please consider answering. Thank you..

Also any response yet? On the interview of course.

hmmm... in my experience and Knowledge Accumulated Over The Years via reading And writing... the best place to start is to just drop in. no story introduction, no "it was a dark and stormy night", just Start. it sounds like your story begins with Howdy taking the day off, so maybe kick off with him getting ready / choosing an outfit, or w/ him reflexively almost opening the store before he stops and chides himself for almost forgetting that he's taking the day off

to combat the dialogue, maybe detail him leaving the bodega to go into the neighborhood. what does he see? hear? feel both physically and mentally? is there anyone else out and about? set the scene! ive been struggling with this too lately since i haven't seriously written in a while and i haven't been reading actual books

WHICH! IMPORTANT TANGENTS!! read well-written books, Not fanfic! im not saying dont read fanfic ever or i'd be the world's biggest hypocrite, but also read actual books. it's important to study how published authors write, how stories are structured, dialogue and action. because these books have more often then not gone through a Rigorous screening process. multiple drafts, beta readers, publishers reading it with great scrutiny before agreeing to publish - of course there are exceptions, but a lot of books are the highest quality they can be, and will outshine most fics. because, and i say all of this as good things, fics are unregulated. most dont have beta readers. a lot are from amateur authors new to the scene. there will be spelling mistakes, weird grammar & sentence structure, etc - most fics have Entirely different writing styles from each other. so if you only read fanfic, That is what your brain will learn, and it's gonna be harder for you to write. published books have less variation in styles, and the styles are subtler. there's less spelling mistakes if any, so your spelling will improve. your internal vocabulary will expand. even if you don't consciously study what you read, your brain will pick up on & internalize patterns, how action works, how dialogue works, how to structure a story, all that good stuff. if you want, i can recommend well-written books! i've been an avid reader since... like, ever. i've got recs galore! you can tell me your preferred genre & literary interest and i'll probably have something for you! and if you're not big on books, well... get out of your comfort zone lmao, books are fucking awesome and i guarantee there are plenty out there that you would love.

and when you're writing dialogue, intersperse it with little actions or the main povs' internal dialogue. if there's a natural lull in the conversation, explore that lull! what do the characters do in this moment? what's going on around them? sprinkle bits of setting in so that your reader knows where they are and what's going on.

plus, exploring the non-dialogue sections of your story can, and often will, spark inspiration in your brain for scenes and actions to fill out the story if you want it to be long (but also! if you just want to write the scene of their conversation, that's the beauty of fanfic - there's no requirements. do whatever you want lmao). when Howdy is going into town, maybe Wally calls him over for a quick pose - does Howdy say yes or no, and how does that decision change the story? maybe Julie invites him to join her in a game, or Eddie stops to talk to Howdy about him being out and about. maybe there are some complaints over the bodega not being open. what's the lead-up to Howdy and Barnaby running into each other? do they literally run into each other? what happens when they do? those are just a few possibilities of many!

remember, when you're writing, you're that story's god. you can do literally fucking anything. you decide what the characters do, where they go, what happens in their world. that mindset should help you bolster the plot instead of just "these two characters have a conversation", yk?

i hope this helps!

[theprettynosferatu]

IV

He had turned his apartment upside down and found no books at all, except of course for his trusty truck maintenance handbook, which he had already almost memorized. It made no sense, and yet quotes came to him unbidden, from authors he had never heard of, let alone read. Still, the man at the bookstore had been adamant. He had purchased Valley Flower. Suddenly, he had the simple idea of logging into his bank and looking at his card statements.

Sure enough, the evidence was there. Several payments, all to nearby small bookstores. Nothing too expensive. Somehow, he knew. The first one was a collection of Byron’s poems. The second one a history of ancient female rulers. The third was, of course, Valley Flower. He had no memory of reading any of them, and no idea where they were. Had he been blacking out more? Doing other things when he thought he was watching the game on sundays? How could he even be sure of anything anymore? Maybe Hayley was… editing his experience somehow. Making him see or not see things, messing with his memories, making him more and more confused…

He wanted to hate her. He really did. But he couldn’t. He knew what she would say, with her big green eyes pleading to him. “Sorry, I just really like to read”. He could almost hear her meek voice inside his head. How could he hate her? Besides, she had become his only true companion. Maybe it was just fair to let her have her little moments, her books. It wasn’t as if anyone would ever know. 

As to where the books had gone… it was obvious.

“I donated them. I want others to enjoy books too, you know?”

How could he be mad at that?

He soon fell victim to a rather nasty flu. He spent day after day swimming in and out of consciousness, being himself for brief periods before sinking again and watching as Hayley’s thoughts occupied his consciousness in a swirl of fantasies, desires, ideas and frustrations to the point that separating what was He and what was Her was a pointless endeavor. He knew the reluctance to call a doctor was all he, though. Things would sort themselves out, as his dad used to say.

On the fifth day he felt well enough to roll off the bed and get a shower. He looked in the mirror through a feverish haze. He had barely eaten, so no wonder he had lost weight. Quite a bit of weight, in fact. His beer belly was practically gone, and… no, no way he had gotten shorter. That was fever talk. No illness could make a man shorter. Still… Whatever. He pushed the fear down and showered before stumbling back to bed.

Had he been more alert, he might have seen the single, long, red hair he had left in the shower.

There’s something special about that moment in which a sickness gives way, when one realizes that one is getting better, that energy is coming back, that the brain fog is lifting. He awoke feeling renewed, a brand new man indeed. He rubbed his eyes and soon noticed something alarming. His goatee was gone. 

He rushed to the bathroom and stared at the face in the mirror. He could hardly recognize it: he had sported a beard as soon as he had been able to grow one. The face looking back at him was smooth, almost child-like in the softness of its skin. It almost seemed to glow, and a spot of panic burned inside his chest. Had he shaved in his feverish state? When? Using what? He had scissors to trim his goatee, but no proper shaver- and the job looked almost professional. Hell, it looked like he had never had facial hair at all. He studied the strange face in the mirror. It looked nice. Soft, even. It was his, no doubt about it, but it seemed… slightly shifted. The angles were a little bit different, the lines of his face just the tiniest bit altered to be… he settled for “prettier”. He needed to settle for “prettier”. He couldn’t bear to utter, even in his mind, the words that would more exactly describe the shape.

More feminine.

Also, there was no denying it: he was getting shorter. Slimmer. Even his fingers looked more dainty, and his nails had grown in a most alarming way. As far as he knew, nails didn’t grow beautifully shaped as if a manicurist fairy had worked on them throughout the night. This was, he decided, a nightmare. It wasn’t real. Couldn’t be real. Like a child, he rushed back to bed and covered himself with his blanket. Things would go back to normal by themselves, he knew that. He was just having a little bit of a psychotic break. He didn’t want to imagine himself disappearing, becoming…

And he hated that part of his mind was thinking of the clothes he should buy.

He had to go back to normal, regular, predictable life. That was the ticket. He had been too much in his head, looking into the mirror too often. There was a world out there, a solid, real world. A world that made sense- and not a minor concern, a world that paid him for his labor. He was sure there would be someone looking for a simple delivery, something to ease his way back to the comfort of the familiar. And sure enough, there was a simple run requested waiting for him in the system. He almost slammed his finger into the “accept request” button on his phone. It might as well had been labeled “return to reality.”

Emily felt strange. Too big. Her driving wheel intimidating, unwieldy. He looked around, shifted in his seat. It didn’t make sense. He had been inside Emily countless times, had traveled the country with her. She had been almost an extension of himself. That was why he had given her a name, after all. When a trucker moves on from a loaner or a company vehicle, when he finds the right truck to call his own, they named it. And, he noticed after observing his friends, the name had to be a girl’s name. Big Bertha. Dolly. Gladys. All his friends had their truck-wives, so he felt he had to name his own. He wasn’t sure why trucks were girls, or why truckers treated them like close, cherished companions. Sure, he did maintenance and took care of his truck. He knew it inside out. He just didn’t feel that kind of… close attachment to it. But men named trucks, and so, his was Emily. But Emily felt like an unwelcoming behemoth of metal.

He took to the road as he had done so many times before. Normally he would zone out, let his muscle memory take care of the driving, listen to his sport radio and bask in that space between spaces, that special no-land that was the wide, open road. Instead, his body tensed up. His mind was racing, paying close attention to every sign, every other vehicle, every turn. He hated every moment of it, hated the way the patter on the radio only seemed to assault his brain with shrill laughter and screaming and a soundboard of air horns and silly noises. Without even thinking it, he pushed a button and the radio hissed and blabbered before finding another station. Music. That was better.

He had to admit the music calmed him somewhat. He still wasn’t enjoying the drive, not one bit, but by moments he could almost be carried away by the melodies. Maybe he could pull it off. Maybe he was returning to being something like himself again.

Oh oh you think you’re something special

Oh oh you think you’re something else

Ok. So you have a car!

That don’t impress me much…

Suddenly he caught himself. How long had he been singing along? Why were his hips moving in his seat? How did he know all the words? Why did Shania’s voice sound so… right coming from his mouth? What the fuck was going on? And did he almost crash a few miles back? He felt sweat dripping down his face. He checked in the mirror…

It was only a flash, shorter than a second. That was enough to make him pull over and jump out of Emily. He panted, his hand resting on the door, his gaze to the hot asphalt. No way. No way. He hadn’t seen… that. He shut his eyes, tried to push the image away. It was no use. What he had seen was engraved behind his eyelids. 

He had become a strange sight indeed: a petite man, oversized clothes hanging off his slender limbs, propped against a massive truck in the middle of nowhere, baking under the blazing sun. He knew he needed to get a move on, but…

Deep green eyes accentuated by perfectly applied eyeliner. The vaguest hint of tasteful, understated eyeshadow. Playful freckles on his nose and cheeks. A wisp of red hair falling between plucked eyebrows. 

It was impossible, yet that was what the mirror had shown him. He shuddered as he remembered a dream, a conversation in a coffee shop. Hayley. He had seen Hayley. 

He could dispel the fear in an instant, of course. All he needed to do was look in the mirror. And still, he didn’t. His breath came in ragged, short bursts. It wasn’t just that what he had seen was bizarre, beyond all logic or reality. It was that if he were to be honest with himself, even for a second, he would have to admit that for the first time in his life, he had felt beautiful.

How long did he stay there? Impossible to tell. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. Eventually, spurred less by bravery and more by the starting aches of a sunburn. He trembled as he glanced in the rear view mirror.

He was himself. Sort of. It was hard, with the recent changes, to be sure of what “himself” meant. He should have felt relief, and he did- but there was also a hint of something else, a longing he could not name. But there was something else. Maybe the sun had burned him more than he realized… however, the marks didn’t look like burns or irritated skin. He leaned closer to the mirror.

Were those freckles on his nose?   

V

He’d never thought a lot about clothes. Well, that wasn’t entirely true- he had never allowed himself to think about clothes. Fact was he had thought about clothing a lot exactly once, when he had pondered long and hard what his “style” would be. He didn’t think about it as style, obviously: the proper style for a man, he had decided, was to have no style, which in itself was a rather complex style, since any evidence of even acknowledging the concept of style was suspect. Ideally a man’s clothing should embody the very concept of “default”, should be banal to the point of invisibility, should silently scream the word “normal.”

“Normal” was hard to achieve, but he had done so and buried the entire sartorial world deep underground. From that point on, buying clothes had been a functional, gray, dull affair: one punctuated sometimes by the lingering fear that a certain color or pattern was too… out there. Luckily, there were many stores that stocked their shelves with sturdy, practical, utterly boring  shirts, pants, shoes. He had built himself a reasonable wardrobe, one that kept any thought on what to wear to a minimum.

A wardrobe that was of no use to him anymore.

Shirts hung off his back like he was a scarecrow, or a child dressed like a very boring, very practical ghost. His belly was gone, but so were his broad shoulders, his muscular arms (and the hair on them as well), his large back. The only word that came to his mind looking at himself in the mirror now was “petite”. It was a nice word. It was a pretty word. It was an utterly terrifying word. His body was changing and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He felt as if he was a spirit trapped in a black wind, carried away to God knew where. Sure, he could go to a doctor, but what would he say? 

“No, Doc, I used to be a big burly man, balding with a beer gut! I drove a truck! And now I’m becoming… I don’t know what! I swear I wasn’t this short, or a redhead, or freckled, or… and I didn’t have boobs! You have to believe me!”

Yeah, that was a no-go. Which led him to the thing he had been trying so, so hard to avoid.

He was growing breasts. 

There was no other way to call them, and Lord knew he had looked frantically for any other term, any plausible explanation. Remembering his blackouts, the novels he… or Hayley had read, he had looked up the effects of estrogen on the body. If she could make him buy books when he wasn’t looking, who could say what kind of stuff she was making him take? It would be a terrifying idea, but it would be, at the very least, an answer. As far as he knew, grown men did not spontaneously manifest tits, after all. Sadly, even the most superficial research was enough to inform him of the fact that no, estrogen did not work that fast, or change hair color.

The person in the mirror resembled him less and less by the day. He kept turning around, spinning, taking in every angle. He needed to stop it, and he needed to stop it right then and there. But how? Tears pooled in his eyes, and his fists clenched in complete, impotent rage. Rage was good. Rage was manly.

Before he knew it, he was on the ground, surrounded by reflective glass shards, his hand bleeding. He hadn’t meant to punch it. To punch himself. To punch her. 

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m not”, she said, an echo in his head.

“Then what is happening?”

“I… I’m not sure. I think I’m starting to become… myself. Just… by moments. They add up, I suppose”

“Well fucking stop it!”

“I tried! I did, at first. But… don’t I deserve some happiness too? Don’t I deserve to exist beyond the cage in which you’ve locked me? The world has so much to offer, so many wonderful things, art, books, music! I can’t just look at it from behind your eyes”

“No. No, no, no. Fuck you. My body isn’t a fucking time share and you sure as shit are not allowed to redecorate it, so take your red hair, and your boobs, and fuck right off! I was fine before you came along!”

“Were you happy?”

“That’s not the point!”

“It seems to me like it should be the entire point. Happiness. How long do you expect to keep living a lie?”

“I’m not… I was fine!”

“Well, change is inevitable. I’m not going anywhere, so you can suffer every day or you can at least try to have fun. Speaking for myself, I’d much prefer it if you didn’t suffer. For instance, you’re going to have to buy new clothes. Why not enjoy it?”

“Fuck. You”

Hayley didn’t respond. He hated to admit she was right, tough. He did need new clothes.

VI

The battlefield stretched before him, infinite. He saw safe areas, sensible shirts and gray pants. He also saw the minefield he would have to cross: rack after rack of yellows, reds, greens and pinks; tops and blouses and skirts, menacing like fanatical enemy soldiers, sharp like spike traps trying to break him, to send him into a pit from which there would be no escape. He took a moment to get his body ready, to make sure his oversized t-shirt properly hid his breasts. He wore a ballcap to somewhat obscure a face that, it pained him to admit, could just very well belong to a woman. The point was to avoid the dreaded Shopping Assistant. 

That particular fear had come from a long, unflinching, objective look at the bathroom mirror, given that he had smashed one in the bedroom. He did his best to push away how he had once looked, the residual image of himself he had been holding onto like a piece of driftwood in a stormy ocean. What would other people see when they looked at him? The answer was obvious. Devoid of his masculine clothing, he looked like a slight, petite, slightly androgynous woman. He hoped that a new outfit, a manly outfit that actually, well, fit him, would push him at least to the level of a slight, petite, slightly androgynous man. He just hoped no one at the store would peg him as a woman and drag him to the women’s section. He was terrified of what might happen then.

He took a deep breath and went inside, heading straight for the safe, masculine blues and blacks.

It took him a moment to understand where he was. The white light overhead hurt his eyes. The miniscule cubicle made him feel trapped. His heart was racing, and he could feel something in his chest, some residual adrenaline… no, not fear. Something else. Something like joy. It was overwhelming, so much so that a full minute passed before he realized he was naked, staring at himself inside a changing room, a pile of colorful clothes arranged by his side.

Hayley, you absolute bitch. Of all the times to give him a blackout…

He looked around. His t-shirt and pants were gone. Hayley had thrown them out the changing room while he was away. Fuck. Check and fucking mate. What could he do? Call for assistance? They would think him crazy- or more accurately, they would think her crazy. Who knew what Hayley had told the workers at the store? And walking out in the nude was, obviously, not a choice. Fine. He would wear whatever the hell Hayley had set out for him, just to fetch his own clothes and get the fuck out. He picked up a top.

Huh.

He couldn’t be sure, but at a glance it didn’t look as bad as he had feared. It wasn’t some pornographic, stare-at-my-boobs top. If anything, it was modest, the emerald green would compliment his eyes, and what cleavage the top did have was tasteful, playful, flirty but not trashy. Of course, there was only so much he could eyeball holding the top. There was only one way to be sure of how it would look…

Wait. What the fuck was he thinking? Tasteful greens? Playful clothes? Those weren’t his thoughts. They couldn’t be. They shouldn’t be. He would just… wear the damn thing, then find his own clothes. Quickly. 

God fucking damnit. Hayley might be some sort of… weird mind… stealing thing, but she did have a good eye. Before he knew it, he was turning, checking the top from different angles. It fit his new body perfectly, drawing tasteful curves on his skin, suggesting a trove of beauty while concealing it. A smile escaped his lips. Coy, yet flirty. Cute, yet slightly provocative. The kind of smile that was a promise and a dare, a diamond half-seen through the glint of morning mists. A smile he had never smiled before. When had he last smiled? Truthfully, spontaneously, not the result of a calculation or social norm? He couldn’t remember. Had he ever smiled like that? Just… naturally?

It just felt… right.

Suddenly, he snapped back. What was he doing? He was being ridiculous. He was being a fool. He was being a freak. Then again, no one was watching. Yes, it was a ridiculous image to be sure. He was wearing a top and nothing else. What was he, Donald Duck? He put on a pair of pants in a hurry, grasping for some notion of normalcy.

Well, that was new. He turned and stared at the mirror in primal fascination, like an ape seeing fire for the first time. He had a butt.

He had always possessed a behind, of course. It just had never been a factor in any aspect of his life, much less on his appearance. Men did not care about their asses. Or at least he didn’t think they did. His friends never mentioned their asses except in the context of working those butts off behind the wheels of their trucks. Did they secretly care about how their asses looked? He now did, that was for sure.

He did a little twirl. It was a thing of beauty, of absolute joy. Cute, not too big but certainly appealing, highlighted by the perfect fit of the shiny, black pants. A part of him was aware that if he came across a woman with that pretty butt he would stare. Would others stare at him? He wasn’t sure how to feel about the idea. He suspected a part of him liked it. He ran his hands over it. It felt so sensitive, so smooth, so firm… and yet it seemed to give him a balance, a sense of truly being on the ground he had never known he had lacked. But how could one miss what one had never known existed?

He felt light. Bubbly. As if he could skip, hop, dance. Instead, he did a little wiggle, and a cute laugh sneaked out of his chest. He didn’t mind. Instead he felt slightly miffed as he looked around the changing room. Where were the shoes? Surely Hayley would have picked out shoes to go with the outfit! Maybe they were outside? He felt almost outraged. Who didn’t choose cute shoes when putting together a wardrobe?

Without a thought getting in the way, he left the changing room. There, on the floor, he saw a dull, brutal heap of cloth. It took him a moment to recognize them as the clothes he had been wearing not long ago. They looked heavy, as if they were made of lead. The thought of putting them on sent a shiver up his spine. A picture of iron chains flashed in his mind. He started sweating. He knew he should put those terrible clothes on. That was the plan, after all. Instead, he stared, paralyzed, shaking.

“Oh. My. God. You look so good! Honey, you were made for those clothes!”

He turned around. The clerk was there, her eyes beaming. Sure, it was her job, but… it felt so sincere. It felt like the blonde woman was genuinely amazed and happy for him, like she was a sister in a world he had never imagined. There was so much emotion in her eyes… and all for a stranger. His friends didn’t show emotion like that. Even their support was usually more… ironic, or clad in jokes or teaseful ribbing. This was different. Unvarnished. Unashamed.

“Girl, I have to say… when you came in, wearing… those things I thought you were a lost cause but damn! You are positively radiant!”

Girl. She had called him a girl. Should he correct her? Could he? Could he really, with a straight face, utter the words “I am a man” after all he had felt? Also… he did feel radiant. He felt as if he was hovering above the ground, surrounded by a halo of bright, white light. He searched for words, any words, anything at all.

“Shoes”, he blurted out. 

“Shoes indeed! Let me show you”

The pile of discarded clothes said nothing as it was left behind.

VII

Horns shook the city air. Angry, shouting voices lodged themselves in her stomach. The shift stick felt stiff, unwieldy. She preferred to stick to the pedals, which the drivers behind her didn’t particularly appreciate. The wheel felt like an enormous monster she was forced to fight at every turn. The truck was a lumbering leviathan, and with every block she realized more and more of the simple, undeniable fact that she hated the damn thing.

At some point she found herself parked on the side of a quiet road. She looked at the trees beside her, the birds above her, the scattered clouds lazily floating along. She looked at the mechanical monstrosity that appeared to her eyes as a sort of disgusting predator. Large, cumbersome, threatening. She sat on the grass by the road. What was she doing driving that thing anyway?

Looking at the sun, it seemed to her as if she had been living inside a trench, toiling, fighting a war with no meaning or purpose. Sure, the truck was her job. Or his job. The distinction grew less clear by the minute. What was evident was that she simply couldn’t keep going. She couldn’t spend her hours inside that awful metal prison anymore. But where to go next? What did she truly want to do? Who was she, really?

Her phone vibrated. She glanced at it, recognized it was someone from work and let it shake impotently in her hand. She supposed the name on the screen belonged to a friend, in a way. He just didn’t feel like a friend. Not anymore. Before, friends and coworkers had been the same thing. Now she saw inside herself, realized how lonely she truly was. She wanted more.

She dreamed of smart conversation, of books, of delving deeper into the world of Literature. She dreamed of cozy coffee shops. She dreamed of laughter, of sharing. But how could she turn those fantasies into more than mere dreams?

The answer was staring right at her.

She could feel the wind picking up. It was something electric, exciting. She knew she had been scared of change, not that long ago. Now her life was growing, flowering, transforming. Her body was never exactly the same by morning as it had been at bedtime, and waking up was an exciting thrill. Why then had she insisted on keeping the rest of her static, trapped in amber? The truck, the apartment, his friends had been essential in the past, but now they simply didn’t fit her. 

Well, what would fit? 

She was looking into the mirror, trying out a new makeup look she had seen on Youtube. A thing that was becoming more and more apparent with each passing day was the cost. Makeup was expensive, that much she had realized immediately, especially since she had resorted to trying out various shades, brands, styles. But that was only part of the cost: the rest was time. She had a foggy memory of waking up, throwing on some clothes and stepping out into the world; such a notion seemed absolutely ridiculous to her now. After a few missed appointments (one to get her nails done, one to buy a particularly rare book from a private seller) she had learned to clear out at least a solid hour to get ready before heading out. She really hoped practice would make things quicker. Besides, once she had learned her… style, she supposed, things would go far more smoothly.

There was a joy, a playfulness to the whole affair. Her face was a canvass in which color, shades, highlights danced and underlined this or that feature, made her cheekbones more pronounced, or her lips look thicker, or her eyes pop. She felt a bit like a newborn fawn, learning what other girls had mastered by age fifteen, but she took to her new hobby with the excitement of a teenager. In a way, she felt like one, like she was going through a second puberty. The right puberty, this time. Back in the day, she… or he, had been afraid of the changes, afraid of what they meant about her place in the world. She vaguely remembered feeling as if she was not ready, silently begging for more time to figure the world out. Those memories seemed more and more distant every day, like a half-forgotten movie. Well, she didn’t have time to reminisce. She could not miss the day’s appointment. 

She had done her homework. She knew what she had and what it was worth. Still, she was a bit shocked by the tone of the man, the way he talked down to her. She understood: a willowy redhead girl who had “inherited” a truck would look to a sleazy auto seller like a prime mark. She was many things, but gullible was not one of them. Politely, always wearing a disarming smile, she refused to budge an inch. In the end she got the proper value for the vehicle. Enough to purchase a small, compact, rather cute electric car. One that felt like her. And enough to kickstart the next step in her project.

The ads went online later that day. So many people had trouble interpreting books, analyzing them… while she could do so quickly, effortlessly, with sensitivity and academic rigor. It made her happy, and she wanted to share that happiness, to teach others to see the wonderful world of words the way she did. Besides, she needed a job. Tutoring sounded just perfect. 

Of course, her plan included a couple more steps. Steps that required certain paperwork. She had been lucky in that the gods of bureaucracy had chosen to answer her requests speedily, and had scheduled the big day for less than a week since she had requested it. She smiled, pondering if ever paperwork had felt so good for anyone else.

Two days later, she walked out of the big, gray building. She was beaming, holding the small piece of plastic. The picture on it was terrible, as such pictures inevitably were. She didn’t care. She looked at it again and again, and every time a surge of energy burst from her chest and made her laugh in sheer joy. Terrible, overexposed, harshly lit photo or not, it was a photo of her. There could be no doubt about it. Surrounded by all the official seals and symbols, made official by the hologram that guarded against forgery, validated by all the boring, subtle aspects of properly-acquired government I.D. Her. And the ink, black, impossible to erase, proclaiming that she had always known to be true. 

“Hayley”, it said in the space allotted for the citizen’s name. 

VIII

The huge man looked at the I.D., then at Hayley, then back at the I.D. She couldn’t help but smile. She had never been carded before. She understood the man’s confusion, given the date of birth on the card and the way she looked. Of all the changes, her apparent youth had been the most surprising one. Sure, her skin had become smoother, softer, more sensitive. Her once imposing frame had become petite, slender. She had grown breasts, a source of endless fascination for herself and others, just the right size to fit her body without looking artificial. She had a shapely butt and a vagina. That last one she couldn’t remember getting, couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it had happened. It just felt… like it had always been there, even if she knew that wasn’t the case. Just like the way she spoke, her thoughts, her dreams. They had slowly made themselves apparent, washing away what had been a false self in a slowly rising tide. Where the past ended and she had truly begun, she couldn’t say. She didn’t much care either. She was in the world now, and she intended to make up for lost time. On this particular night, by celebrating her first batch of students.

She knew clubs weren’t her thing, but… better to make sure. Besides, what was life if not there to be experienced fully?

One minute inside and she knew she was in the wrong place. Or at least not a place that felt… hers. But she did have to admit one thing: she looked amazing. She was proud of that. It had taken a lot of work! Choosing clothes, seeing how they fit, trying out different styles, practicing with endless tutorials to get her hair and makeup just right… in a way the looks of the people around her were invasive, yes, but also… validating. After years of feeling invisible behind the wheel of a truck, she felt seen, physical, real. Sure, she didn’t intend to make clubbing part of her life, but for one night… The books and coffee could wait. Even the new friends she had made at her advanced Literature courses could wait. For one night, she would just… let go.

Hayley closed her eyes and let the music vibrate inside her. She let her body feel light, her hands go in the air, her feet do as they pleased… She let herself fly.

Many saw her that night. They couldn’t know the effort, the pain, the silent suffering that had come before that moment. The dull, heavy years behind her were invisible and growing less and less substantial, leaving not a hint for anyone to observe. They didn’t see the full picture, and yet what they did see was, in the end, what truly mattered.

They saw a woman dancing with her eyes closed and a smile on her face. They saw a beautiful girl letting loose, not caring about the weight of the world, twirling and enjoying herself under the shifting, colored lights. They saw someone utterly comfortable with herself, with her place, her body, her life. They saw sensuality and joy, euphoria and childish abandon. The Universe clicking into place.

They saw, quite simply, happiness.

[ghost-of-a-system]

Sorry if this is weird to ask, im a questioning system but ive been having trouble finding ways to understand myself & about others in my possible system, and i also have aphantasia, do you have any advice? (/notpushing)

not a weird question whatsoever! this may be lengthy so i am going to add one of those "keep reading" things to prevent a whole novel on someone's feed, lol. hopefully it works.

trying to determine whether or not you're a system can be a very long, slow, and frustrating process. for us it took years, and we are still learning new things all of the time, it seems. i don't know if you mean to also ask for advice on determining that, so i'll leave it out, but feel free to reach out again if that was something you were hoping for too.

because of that slow process, it's unfortunately not so easy to try to find out what works for you, especially when you have aphantasia, and, i assume, no vivid-interactive inner world, like other systems. (since we can't exactly just walk around and interact with everyone like we, i assume, could there. /lh) it really is just a process of trial-and-error, trying things and seeing what works, and what doesn't.

we have personally found that we learn best about ourselves and each other through fronting. it is a little broad, but, when we have no inner world or "place to go" when we aren't fronting, we only really have the ability to connect to and explore ourselves when we are fronting. the same goes for learning about others in our system. we personally have OSDD-1b, and do not experience "blackouts" or memory gaps like individuals with, say, DID, would. we have a fairly consistent train of memory, although events do get kind of fuzzy after they happen (within hours). because of that fuzziness, it's not always easy to just remember things about whoever was here once they're gone.

we personally like to use Simply Plural (the app, but it has a website too). it's an app for systems to log who's fronting and make "profiles" for each headmate/alter. the app is handy for many reasons but we personally enjoy how it lets you add "custom fields" such as names, likes, dislikes, etc. virtually whatever you want, hence the "custom". this allows us to be able to list things about ourselves on our personal profiles, that both us and others can look at or reference later. if something like that isn't an option, old-fashioned journaling could always work just as well for logging information about yourself. we just personally find Simply Plural more easy since we carry our phone basically everywhere lol

like all things, that can be tricky, especially for headmates/alters who do not front often, or at all. we have had alters like that in the past, ones who practically never fronted. unfortunately, we were sort of just left in the dark about them, or never even learned their names. we only ever knew they existed for the few moments they seemed to pop in. it can also be tricky if you do have blackouts/memory gaps, or if you have alters who just don't want to log information about themselves, even if it's private. we unfortunately don't have much advice for that, since the first is something we don't have experience with and the second is sort of a just, "can't really force them to do what they don't want to, i guess", unless you co-front with them or are able to learn enough about them to do it yourself.

sorry for the long post. it's easier for us to add details to get our point across rather than summarizing. hopefully it made some sense.

[ariel26c]

im applying the law, but instead of the feeling of success that everyone else gets i feel panicked. the 'feeling' people usually get when they're in the wish fulfilled state, the feeling of accepting it and it being real—im not getting that. i dont see a clear picture when i visualize. every time i try to, i end up breaking down and feeling like a failure... but I'm still trying to go on because why is it that the people who hurt me and practically ruined my life get to live successfully, while i suffer? thats not fair... i promised myself that if i could just get 3 Bs, ill turn my life around and work really hard... but is it over for me? i want to win, im trying to, but im scared

im trying my best to visualize myself getting 3 Bs, reenacting my friends faces when i get the results, praying to God and thanking Him for blessing me and continuing to bless me, but there is this fear still lingering at the back of my mind... i feel like I'm not doing it right. i have like one day left and I'm so nervous. im going over posts, tweets, and every time I feel a little better, it all comes crashing down because of doubts. theres only one thing one my mind right now: 'how am I gonna turn it around in one day?' i know that the 3D does not matter and that everything is done in imagination, but here i feel like its not done in imagination either

right now nothings clicking in my head, whatever i read is getting scrambled in my mind, i feel so lost and empty. could u please tell me what to do in this specific situation? u can be as harsh as you want if that's what's needed to get the point across. im really sorry for the bother and id be really grateful if u could please help out, ive never been this desperate before... my life cant be over before it even started

Babe don’t stress yourself out. If you don’t like visualizing then don’t do it. Do what you wanna do not what others are doing. You don’t need to visualize perfectly anyway. I think most people don’t visualize in perfect detail. Make your own method if you enjoy doing methods.

Create your own rules for manifestation because as long as you persist that’s what matters. Feeling isn’t that important. I know some say feeling like it’s yours is necessary to manifest but it’s not. Don’t worry about not feeling the feelings and simply persist. Also stop trying and simply be. Choose to be a winner in life. Choose to be successful. Choose that you live life on easy mode.

Thinking as if you were the best version of yourself. You are so powerful that you could literally have anything. What others have done to you simply needs to be let go and focus on the now because now is when you’ll get to love your dreams. You’ll live a better life than all those losers who hurt you. Doubts hold no power over your manifestations. Accept them and move on. It’s done because you say so. Period. It’s okay to not believe.

Stop searching for posts if you’re not apply what you’re learning. It’s pointless to scroll and scroll and search if you’re not even trying. You can do this my love. No matter how you feel or how many doubts you have you are still God at the end of the day. What you want you can have if you simply allowed yourself to have it.

In other words:

1. Doubts don’t matter.

2. You don’t need to feel it real.

3. You don’t need to believe.

4. What you’ve gone through in your past doesn’t matter because there is now.

5. If other people can experience happiness and get what they want then so can you.

6. Don’t worry about doing things perfectly. Visualize but if it stresses you out don’t do it. Make it easy for yourself by doing what you wanna do.

7. Simply persisting is all it takes.