#you're telling me i'd have to live a life without female friends if i existed in these shows?
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tabl3 · 16 days ago
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giving bree and skylar strong female friendships (taylor and jordan respectively) is so important bc they're in a mostly male-dominated cast. like yes skylar is much closer to kaz and oliver and bree is much closer to her brothers but STILL
it's even more important (in my version) because the female they would have the most interactions with is each other, but they're romantic partners, so it isn't the same
anyway i HATE shows that are 90 percent dudes and never give the girl close relationships with other women. either they don't exist or the women are pitted against each other
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topconfessions · 17 days ago
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lol @ those anons giving u shit for keeping it real and not being a biased delusional fan who will eat up whatever half assed fan service their faves say or do
also..... do they think you're like. new to this????? i urge that/those anons to go take a longggg look at this blog and see what year u started posting. like you've BEEEEENNNN here you're probably the oldest still active top related blog on this site. and you're still here like wow!!! i appreciate this blog so much, and i trust your opinion/insights into who he is as a person
i think u have a lot of credibility to your name tbh, like i said, all it takes is to check out the date of some of the older posts. i'd take your word for it any day over the fairly new and fresh impressions of those who literally only JUST found out about him
like you people have known him for 15 minutes, we've been here for 15 YEARS!!
Girl it comes with the territory. They're just flies on the windshield lol. I feel indifferent and neutral. It's 2025 not 2005. Not 2015 either. We barely have anything to go on anymore minus GD performance he did at that award show recently where he got crap for potential lip syncing (but we know their sound team is ass). I'd accept the trolling if we were like ateez, seventeen, nct or bts and actively had so much content for the BB guys like the old days or MADE era, but we don't.
I think I mentioned it long time ago but I was like everyone else here I WAS DEEEEEEEEEEEEEP into TOP & BB. I lived and breathed BB especially him. Ultimate bias, Ultimate crush, I had a MASSIVE FOLDER of allll his pictures. Dated a guy who loved TOP too and we would write fanfictions together about our fave idols. Made friends back then through BB. So much man. You couldn't tell me shit about them cause I would stab you with a fork if you didnt praise them lmao.
I would stay up late at night to watch the mama awards and other shows that would happen online. It was an amazing time but it wasnt healthy compeltely cause it...I can't put it into words how it does something to you mentally but mentally and emotionally it keeps like a hold on you.
I kinda realized I lost a lot of my teen years and other years just being engrossed in TOP. I don't regret it at all cause he was great and I loved every bit of it but then you get older and realize on a bigger scale they dont matter anymore unless something like this show pops up to breathe new life into one of the members.
So I've been there. I've been through it all. I was even there and so immersed into 2ne1 vs SNSD. Wonder girls and 4minute. GD & Kiko saga..gd & dara ship, gd and CL ship. Minzy and Bom issues. I was there before blackpink ever existed.
Shit I remember when Jay Park started AOMG for the first time. I remember the first time we saw Lee Hi in that competition show. I was there when hyuna came out with bubble pop. I lived and breathed it girl. I was there when girls day came out with female president and expectation then something. I was there when Sulli was still good with FX and didnt have the dynamic duo cruty motherfucka grooming her. I was there when Lee Hyori was the bluerprint for all these baddies solo baddies today and I was there when Hyolyn & Ailee were deemed the good vocalists. I was there when Dean dropped bonnie and Clyde for the first time and was a pretty boy. I was also there when Zico had the girl from AOA running to his apartment to hook up lmao.
So I'm not talking out of my ass. I feel you can have a foundation and general love for an idol but overtime especially decades, come to see them change and see hidden sides of them you didn't know existed then develop opinions of them that arent always fluffy.
People forget a lot of folks lives were saved by kpop back then and today. Some people wouldn't be alive today without their bias. I'm sure he's gotten people through tough times like hes gotten me through tough times and good times. But I will say I wish I could take a lot of that time back and invest that love & energy when I was in school into myself or hobbies. A life lesson learned.
AND THANK YOU! 15 YEARS SIS! THATS A WHOLE PERSON LMFAO. Thats the span of a highschool students life. Idk. I guess I believe in tough love.
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imaradiocure · 2 years ago
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The worst day of my life
Reaching over to your side of the bed, I expected to feel you beside me
I was jolted awake because you were not there
At the time I had no idea how 'The Reach' would haunt me for years in the twilight between sleep and wake
I'd continue to reach but I'd never find you.
I got up from bed and peered out into the living room, thinking maybe you'd fallen asleep on the couch or had gotten up early
and how niave of me it was, but I didn't yet know that this was the worst day of my life.
I think I called your name, but I can't be sure as panic set it and things became a little hazy at this point.
I found you in the bathroom. You were unresponsive. I didn't know what happened but as I tried to wake you, you didn't respond.
I remember looking down on us in the bathroom, with what was likely your dead body, but my brain did not accept that. You couldn't be gone. Not my Nick. Not my love.
I heard your voice from all around me say, "I'm so sorry," it was loud but it didn't come from your mouth. Maybe it was an auditory hallucination. The brain does strange things in the face of extreme stress and trauma.
I darted for a phone, but I couldn't find mine. I was so fucking panicked and scared and alone. I found your phone and dialed 911.
Things become more hazy. I knew this was an overdose because I saw the spoon in the bathroom. I told the operator it was heroin, the toxicology report would later say it was morphine.
I had to do CPR and the 911 operator instructed me but I failed. I failed you. I couldn't stop sobbing, hyperventilating. I was trying, but I was no good. I couldn't help you and I couldn't breathe either.
The paramedics arrived and I rushed to unlock the doors. I dont really know what happened after. They took you to the living room I think and I was sat in the bedroom. I was quietly sitting in shock, I kept asking if you were going to be okay. The female officer told me she didn't know yet.
They asked me questions and I dont remember what. They pronounced you dead and the doctor came to tell me and I kicked and I screamed "No! We were supposed to get married!" and other things, but I can't remember what they were. An officer may have been restraining me.
One of the many officers combing through my home asked if I wanted to go outside for fresh air or a cigarette and I must have agreed. I was in pajama shorts, so I went to my closet to grab a coat when officers panicked because they didn't want me unsupervised. Maybe they thought I was hiding drugs. Maybe they thought I was a danger. I don't know.
I stood outside shaking, blank, empty, in shock. In shorts and an open jacket in mid February in South Dakota.
I remember a male officer say something to the effect of "you look like you're doing alright"
I don't think I looked at him. I did not respond. I had already shut down. The female officer asked me if I could call someone, my mother. I tried to give the number but I guess I gave my own phone number. I was very confused. As I said, I had shut down.
Somehow they reached her and she came to get me from the home I had shared with my fiance. I was stone cold and silent until I saw her, hugged her, and broke down into wails and sobs. Before we left the female officer told me I was not going to be charged with anything, which hadn't even occured to me as a possibility.
For months I did nothing but sit or lay on my mother's couch. Sometimes I didn't recognize where I was. I couldn't look in the mirror. I couldn't eat. I couldn't exist. All I wanted was to go with him. I didn't want to be here without him.
People who pretended to be friends came and went. Family members collected my pets and belongings from the house I shared with my fiance. I couldn't return. I paid another month or two worth of rent just to avoid going back and tying up those loose ends.
I lost friends over 10 years long because I was "too sad to be around"
I was angry
I was empty
Nothing felt good. Nothing tasted good. Nothing felt like anything except for his absence.
I would have sudden panic attacks and freak out in a totally quiet home. The only way I could curb these was to observe my cats and note that they were sleeping calmly and therefore there must be no immediate danger. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn't.
I thought a lot about suicide. I thought it was unfair for my friends and family to expect me to live in the debilitating pain just so they didn't have to suffer losing me. I should exist in the pits of hell to spare them the very grief I was lost in. It seemed so unfair.
There was no hope. There was nothing to live for. I was a shell. I either felt nothing at all or extreme emotions - anger or grief. I said extreme things to people in the deepest depths and I cut ties wherever need be.
Grief was like poison inside of me. I had a toxicity in my thoughts and speech. I had a skewed perspective and no one had it as bad as me. No one could truly understand my loss and pain and the trauma of finding the person I loved most dead on the worst day of my life.
I went crazy sometimes. I had brief periods of psychosis. I would run out of my house in fear and hide in bushes blocks away. Fear of what? I don't really know. I felt trapped and I needed to go.
Grief is a shapeshifter and it never really leaves.
It doesn't get 'better' it just changes and morphes into different contortions. Maybe we get better at carrying the weight over time. I'm not sure.
It's been six years and three days. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, the day of his viewing 6 years ago.
I still ache. I still get angry. I still love. I still yearn. I still have nightmares. I still feel cheated. Every so often, I still reach for him in the twilight of wake and sleep.
Nothing will ever fix it. Nothing will ever make it better. There's no remedy. No healing potion. No spell or ritual. Just ache. I will ache.
As I continue to live, I will only collect more grief and you will too.
Life is an endless collection of loss.
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mercy-thompson-fanfiction · 15 days ago
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Wait I have a hot take because I use this often in fic but don't necessarily align with it myself. I usually intentionally combine the two in fic because of the year I exist in and not because of canon. I think I usually, with exception of definitely once for an OC who has reason to be a brat about it, use the phrase "essentially" when referring to it because it is such a "you have to be squinting so hard while reading between the lines that it's almost certainly not there". But, I think the year we live in is probably also why some people mistakenly combine the two not on purpose.
Take all of the following as a grain of salt as someone who met her husband, exchanged exactly 3 sentences (and I can remember them, too) with the dude, and then texted my best friend to tell her I met the man I was going to marry. My best friend then asked me his name and I literally didn't know it, "what is your name" had not been one of the sentences exchanged. If I am as much of a walking red flag as Bran Cornick, then I am obscenely lacking self-awareness.
It's phrased somehow, because I don't feel like pulling up my books right now, that BJW was beautiful and so he changed her. Not entirely a red flag, that's normal, you're allowed to be attracted to someone. I guess you can turn them into a werewolf, sure, sketchy but whatever.
Combine that, the little details that he couldn't speak to her, the revelation that he changed and mated with Leah without it being her explicit will.
Also, this one isn't my favorite one to call into play but I did use it recently in a fic, that her version of holding any power/will was to carry Charles to term is concerning without full context from someone who was there. I think this one is not super relevant here and is more an issue of general female agency. It's used a lot, especially in storylines in medical drama books/movies/tv shows/real life.
Mercy. The whole entire Mercy thing. It's like The Mercy Incident™.
And, finally, the year 2025 thing--it's easy to squint at words that aren't actually there because in 2025 many of us should understand the inherent inequalities women of different ethnic, cultural, and religious groups face. The patriarchy favors white men, period. Bran came, he saw, he conquered and all that.
Which does erase entirely a really lovely narrative overall where it's love at first sight, language and cultural differences overcome, etc. and that's definitely detrimental because it happens and it's beautiful that it happens.
I mean, I personally hold the belief that Bran does not like Charles all that much because he can't get past the idea that he's killed BJW which would in theory support that he really, truly, loved her. It also supports the idea that I think most werewolves canonically need therapy. We gotta stop with this "wear a cross to protect you from things", and instead should work on the "everyone meet up for group therapy on Thursday."
The weird pieces being put together about Bran in such a brief piece-by-piece expose that just paint him further and further into a bad light are only making it easier to sketch in annotations that aren't there. We don't actually know very much about how this happened with Leah, just that he said he had wronged her and taken advantage.
That said, we see with Charles and Anna this idea that it should be an acceptance thing on both sides. Both wolves think it's a good match and all that stuff. It's weird to think Bran could literally force that bond to be there. I get all the "just kind of put her where the hole was" concept. It's fair enough and I'd accept it if that's wholly what it comes down to. I think the actual advantage might have been Leah not knowing/being in a place to understand she could potentially refuse? It's fairly easy to then draw a comparison to someone like Mercy who didn't know Samuel was pining because she didn't understand anything about mates or to BJW who possibly was unable to fully communicate/be communicated with because of a language barrier.
I also don't think Bran makes a habit of mentioning as much as he says he does. He says in Moon Called something about lies of omission and how they're still lies, but he's omitted all of the Leah thing from at least Charles this entire time. We don't know that Samuel knows either, he wasn't there. Just because one tells the truth about something, doesn't mean they've spilled their whole guts about the topic. "I met your mother, she was dying and she was beautiful, I Changed her and she didn't consent to that" is a full story without going into detail of how he courted her. To me, the real question is, would he admit to one wrongdoing and not the other because I do actually think he would have just fessed up to both counts if he was going to bother to mention one.
That all said and done. Do I think it's a stretch? Of course! Do I think it's possible? Also yes. The Cornick who seems to be most frequently in possession of the braincell controlling what might be considered common decency is Charles.
Just something that i want to point out that is that Bran never changed and then mated with Leah and Bjw in the same way. I think some people are overlapping the two and get confused on this.
As far as we readers know, when Bran first meets with Bjw he's mentally all there unlike when he first meets Leah. As the story goes, he finds her wounded from a moose and saves her by changing her but nowhere in the books does Bran mention that he forced the mate bond on her and i'm pretty sure that piece of information would have been stated if that was the case.
So the most logical way of understanding this is that he changes her > after a while courts her and she agrees, then they mate. Something else to consider is that it's most likely that the man made the decision to mate then the wolf agreed. Why do i think this? Well because;
-Bran would have mentioned it in Wild Sign when he was recounting how he changed and mated with Leah
-His own son Charles had his wolf make the decision first and i think Bran would have mentioned it to his own son that he mated his mother that way and would have helped his son navigate his mating with Anna
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yarbz · 4 years ago
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cowardly game of rival — n.jaemin ( f )
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synopsis!
 ━ as the girl’s football team captain, you were used to the endless derogatory taunts, the wolf-whistling, the attempts at romance being boys telling you what they thought of barcelona’s starting XII. na jaemin fell into all those catergories, a detestable flea in your hair. as sworn enemies, there was not even an inkling of romance, and you were convinced that your attraction to him was ONLY physical. weren’t you?
pairing ━ na jaemin x female!reader
word count ━ 6k
genres ━ fluff, rival!au, football!au, comedy, romance, very little of the football game is described in detail.
warnings ━ profanity, football terms, dirty jokes, y/n and jaemin are literally just cowards
( author's note! )
this one came to mind when i thought of how i love female footballers and decided that jaemin would be the idiot in question to chicken out of confessing to their crush by being an ass instead. i really hope you like it !! other notes are sissoko is the name of like three different players and a cracker is slang for a really good goal.
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Football.
A sport of creatively insane wits, fancy footwork and incoherent celebrations. Those were all the things you loved about it, along with the ridiculously cute uniform.
It provided you an escape from the man's world, a chance to carve out your own story, free from the shackles of stereotypes. At least, that's what you'd initially thought.
Unfortunately, the boy's football team made it their sole objective in life to demean you. As captain, you took on the strenuous task of refusing to resort to physical violence when a stupid comment about your short length was made or when boys assumed you couldn't tell your Sissoko's apart (you could, quite well actually).
You had taken it as a sign of war, and refused to comment on their pathetic sneers. You did, however, feel as if Na Jaemin made a blood pact or something to be a parasite towards you.
He stood at the cusp of six foot, towering over you like an evergreen beanstalk, cheshire-cat like smile taunting you. Chocolate colour tresses fell over his eyes in straight lines, shielding his forehead.
It's not like you paid attention to his visage, but even you had to admit in your spite that he was attractive. And horribly so.
Today started like every other, going to your locker before heading to your homeroom. Luckily, you'd managed to get there before the freshmen started to pile in. Being a senior had its positives along with its various faults, one of them being the early access you got to the school.
You jammed your key in the lock, flinging open the locker door, making quick work of exchanging your books. In your fast-paced stupor, you didn't notice the figure leaning behind the door. You slammed the door shut, nail catching an patch of skin, scraping it.
"If you wanted me to leave, you could've been less catty." The voice wheedled, throwing a withering glare in your direction. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, arms crossed across your chest.
"Jaemin." You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Why are you hiding behind my locker? Are you looking for a death wish?"
He sat up slowly, soothing his reddening nose, suddenly regaining his smile as he leaned closer towards your face. "If I was looking for a death wish, I'd eat whatever food you just stuffed in there."
"Fuck off. Don't see you making any gourmet meals."
"I'm the gourmet meal." He slithered, breath fanning your nose. From this distance, you could see the wonder swimming within his eyes, breath caught in your throat.
Damn, he was too fine.
You tore your gaze from his eyes, "And yet, I don't feel inclined to taste it." He jumped back in surprise, eyes widening, giving you an opening to dash. Chuffed that you left him speechless, you walked towards your next class, resisting the urge to turn back to revel in his awe-struck face.
Jaemin's eyebrow quirked in curiosity, crooked smirk hanging from his lips. He watched you stalk away, cursing underneath his breath softly. You carried a fiery aura around you, burning him with every snarky remark — even though it beat him bruised ghastly lavenders, he could bear to play with fire if it meant you would pay him attention.
You see, Jaemin did not hate you as per say. The 'hate' which you believed in was merely his inability to profess his affections towards you. For lack of a better word, he was a coward.
A dashingly handsome one, but a fragile, chicken-legged coward all the same.
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You'd made it to class in record time, ego bared boldly on your shoulders, attracting the curious eyes of your best friends Yangyang and Donghyuck. Both were terrorists in their own right, but you couldn't help loving them all the same. Sure, they came as a dreadful pair, but love had decided to shackle your heart to them.
"What's got you so happy? Jaemin finally drop dead?" Yangyang joked, shifting to make space for you. Headband strapped to the pinnacle of his forehead, he grinned at you from beneath the base of stretchy ebony material.
"No..not yet." You hummed, sad lilt to your tone.
"Awh, didn't kill him yet?" Donghyuck teased, nudging Yangyang in their laughter. "I think it must be love stopping you from committing the crime yourself." You shoved both, peals of laughter tickling your throat at their whines of pain.
"If you don't shut up, I'll be killing you two instead, never mind Jaemin." You snapped. "Love is what I feel when I score a cracker from the halfway line. Seeing Jaemin makes me want to jump out of the nearest window."
"Are you sure it's not just unresolved sexual tension? I, too get antsy when I haven't jacked off—"
"Finish that sentence and you'll have no arms."
"I'm flexible enough to suck myself off." Yangyang mused, "You'll never stop my libido."
"You're disgusting." You and Donghyuck said in sync, swatting his grabby hands from flying at your shoulders. Quite frankly, you didn't want to hear about his freakishly boneless limbs, or his untameable sex drive, nor hear anything about his genitals at all.
"Does that count as self—"
"Yes, it does. Please don't be telling people that I'm your friend, or that you can do that. It's not a little icebreaker."
Friendship with these two had crossed all sorts of personal boundaries you didn't know existed, and it was starting to decompose you, like a rotting piece of cabbage infested by slugs, yet still hanging on for the glimpse of sunlight to regenerate.
Okay, so you were being dramatic. But, that didn't explain their dire need to over share certain aspects of their lives with you.
"Doesn't change the topic at hand —Did you get my pun?" He asked, looking for Donghyuck's reaction.
"I did. Not going to comment on it before she breaks my arms. Just know I enjoyed it very much."
"If I wanted to mess around with Jaemin, I'd put my hand in a beehive. It'd sting less." You snarled, slamming down your books. They winced comically, faces alert as the teacher walked into the class.
Apart from football, you enjoyed learning — how to make things, break things, self defense, people skills, and education fell not too far from that. Classes like biology interested you greatly, which is why you found yourself fully immersed in the process of respiration.
Your mind drifted for a second, thinking back to what he'd said. Was it actually sexual tension? Did you actually bare an emotion other than loathing towards him? Then, you thought of that face and how you'd want to do nothing more than break his pretty little nose—
Yeah. There it was. You were normal after all.
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School had come to her daily dreadful end, and you were happily striding into the ladies' changing rooms for football training. Nobody had gotten here yet, luckily.
You glanced over into the full body mirror, tugging at your shorts until they fell just above the bump of your knee, pulling your sock midway at your calf. Lean abs shone underneath the dim light, and you proudly paraded around the room, happy to be alone.
A knock on the door came, and you swung the door open with a feverish excitement. "Who is it?"
"Didn't take me as a bra kinda girl. Was thinking more spandex or a binder." Jaemin seethed, hands on hips, azure jersey hanging off his lithe frame.
"You're insufferable. Why are you here?" You groaned, choosing to ignore his taunt at your breast size. His eyes crinkled into upside down crescents, wandering lower to the dip of your frilly black bra.
"To see my favourite girl, of course." He whistled, eyes still glued to your unmarked expanse of skin. "I think those need a new owner." He pointed towards your chest.
"Preferably one whose face I can stand to look at."
"I'm roaring with laughter." You snarked, voice dripping with sarcasm, making no attempt to cover yourself up. Jaemin was still staring, face flushed a flaming cerise. "You gonna keep staring or are you gonna leave me alone?"
"I'm not staring. Why are you staring at me?" He shot defensively. Your eyes narrowed at him, watching his cheeks darken with every lingering stare.
"You're in the girl's changing room, drooling over two lumps of fat on the body of a girl that you hate. The real inquisition here is your lack of sensibility to stop thirsting after anything with a vagina."
Jaemin stayed silent, eyes boring holes into your full lips, tongue instinctively darting out to wet his own nimble, chapped ones. Rolling your eyes, you lead him to the door, hand clasped against the door handle.
Then, you heard loud footsteps approaching the room, incoherent rambling increasing in clarity. You began to conjure up a plan, wondering how on Earth you'd be able to kick Jaemin out without the girls knowing.
With the shouts of the team gradually getting closer, you panicked, chucking Jaemin into a locker.
"Fine, I'll leave! Lemme out!" He squirmed, trying to come out of the metal confines.
"You can't leave now, they're literally outside. Do you want to be stomped to death by Nike Mercurials?" You hissed, closing the door over, much to his protests.
"Don't wanna die with the last image being your breasts."
"If you survive this, I'll gladly provide you a new image."
He shut up at that, and you straightened, reaching for your jersey in a false calmness. The girls burst in, squeals of various greetings being thrown across the room.
You smiled gently at them, encouraging them to get changed, joining in to laugh at their jokes. The topic kept shifting from manicures to new boots before finally settling on Na Jaemin.
"Cap'n, what's going on with you and Jaemin?" One of the girls asked, batting her eyelashes softly. "A boy on the football team told me that you guys are dating."
Dating..that devil? A sin punishable by death! You repelled all instinct to shudder in disgust, instead choosing to maintain a neutral expression.
"I am absolutely not dating Na Jaemin. He's a despicable little mongrel and I'd rather eat my shoe—"
"Mon bébé chérie, why do you curse me like this?" Jaemin squeezed from the locker, voice like a wounded puppy.
"Did you hear that? I think it was—"
"No! It's my Jaemin impression. Isn't it so good?" You spluttered, voice rising in volume. You were sure that your face was a painful beetroot, breathing crazily as you over-exerted yourself.
"Cap'n, it was so good I almost thought Jaemin was in here with us!" She gushed, hands clasped. "You guys would be so cute together. Even if you don't like him, I think he most definitely has feelings for you."
The rest of the girls joined in at this, shouts of 'you should take a chance!' resounding in the hollow room. You'd already ruled out that as a possibility, chalking it down to his uncontrollable thirst for being a pest. Na Jaemin was your rival, the utter bane of your existence, a rodent that fed on robbing your spirits dry of any positivity.
"He'll get a chance when pigs fly." You muttered, noticing their eyes staring at you inquisitively, as if they knew something you didn't. Awkwardly, you smiled at the girls, ushering them towards the door, scanning the hallway after the last one had skipped out.
Jaemin untangled himself from the locker, straightening his limbs, pulling at his calves in a stretch. You peered over your shoulder, frown deepening at him.
"Did you mean what you said?" Jaemin breathed, walking into your personal bubble. He was way too close. His breath tickled your forehead, eyes dark with something you couldn't decipher.
He felt his heart pound against his chest, resisting the urge to pick the stray hair in your eye to the side. You were looking at him with a confused expression, nose scrunched, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to be the death of him. Devastated, he broke eye contact, feeling all forms of fight seep from his bones.
"You don't like me." You whispered, wincing at the wobble in your voice. "Everyone's just saying that....right?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"No. I want you to say no."
"I can't do that."
"Well, you have to say no. I don't want to hear the rest of your sentence — keep us as just this." You softly yelled, pointing between the pair of you. "Don't change anything."
"Okay. I'll leave, but only because you want me to. But, before I go..you've gotta start being more observant." He sighed, ruffling your hair before making his way out.
"I’m plenty observant. Wouldn’t be a good player if I wasn’t.”
"I’ll see it when I believe it. Oh, and the thing you said about pigs flying..”
“What about it?”
“Renjun’s working on it.”
You laughed heartily, locking the door behind you. So, Jaemin did in fact think of you as his Aphrodite — all those nicknames were genuinely created out of affections. 'Mon bébé chérie' held a lot more emotional weight than it did twenty minutes ago, and you had to breathe before your eyes prickled with saltine tears.
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Fresh air hit you like a loaded delivery truck, Mother Nature delicately wiping the tears from your eyes, shaking you with a cold flourish, roaring your cheeks to life. The team had already started their warm-up drills, as opposed to the boys' football team who were cooling down from their jog.
You ran over, tightening your ponytail, shifting into 'Captain' mode. The coach pushed you into the circle, encouraging you to take the reins. "Team, we've been doing nothing but straight work. Let's make this session count before the match tomorrow." You shouted, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline.
The team chanted back, settling into their positions for the first drill — a penalty shoot out. You stepped to the ball, striding back to gain a better angle, socks hugging your knees.
Giving yourself a five second countdown, you charged at the ball, foot pointed, kicking it with a passion that rivalled Lionel Messi. It rolled in the back of the net, flying past Hyejoo, who could barely even process it.
"Still got those fire feet, I see, Cap'n!"
"Lady Luck gave them to me for a reason." You boasted, smugness slapped all over your face.
From the corner of your eye, Jaemin snickered, winking at you when you turned to make eye contact. At least he had the audacity to keep up appearances in front of everyone, even if you had probably made everything awkward.
"My granny could kick better than that, babes!" He boomed from across the pitch, teasing smirk on his lips.
"Your granny lives in a retirement home and still calls on you 'Nana Banana'..it's not very nice to lie." You retorted, eyes narrowed, nearing his hunched form.
"Doesn't mean she can't kick your ass. Granny was a little Aguero back in the day."
"She can't if I'm the Manè, can she?"
"But I'm a Modric. I'll beat your ass, any day, any time." He grinned, leaning in to you. "In any way you want."
You heard blood pumping in your ears, your cheeks filling with immense heat. He grabbed your cheeks softly, grinning even wider when you flushed even warmer, a human sauna. Pushing a lock out of your eyes, he searched your eyes for any sense of rage, face softening at your lack of that emotion.
"Any..way..I want?" You mouthed silently, innuendo catching your attention again as you mulled over the words. "Na Jaemin, you're a dirty boy."
"I think you're the dirty girl." He hummed, saying the next sentence in an octave that made your head spin, quietly enough that only the two of you could hear. "Sauntering around in your little Victoria's Secret bra, cozying up to me without even batting an eyelash or covering up."
"These boobs are mine. I'm allowed to show them to anyone I want."
"So you admit to showing them to me? You admit that you were trying to put on a show for me?" He pressed, purposely craning his neck over you.
"I was trying to change. If you didn't come into the room like a little pervert, you'd never have gotten a visual of these."
"And yet I know how they look now. There's nothing that can erase that image."
"Fuck you, Na Jaemin."
"I think you meant to say fuck me, but I'll allow the slip-up just because I'm so nice." You squirmed under his predatory gaze, heat in your cheeks akin to a fever. "Better get back to training, Cap. Your team's got a match tomorrow."
You hissed at him weakly, choosing to walk away from his provocation, going back to the team, who were all smiling at you with a glint in their eye. By the looks on their faces, they'd definitely taken that exchange as a form of flirting.
Not that you were disputing it, of course.
The coach rounded the girls up, calling them to grab bibs. You relaxed, running over to take the last bib once you'd calmed down. Na Jaemin was a little toe-sucking, filthy mongrel who only knew how to charm his way out of everything — totally not your ideal type or anything.
His penance for being blunt coupled with that honeyed voice was what was throwing you off. Not your physical attraction to him. At least, you hoped so.
The shrill shriek of the whistle behind you shook you out of your mind, bringing your attention back to the practice game. With every shot at the goal, you could see Jaemin taunting you, making kissy faces.
After the first half, you weren't sure if it was real or if you were hallucinating — almost like a mirage, he was wearing that stupid little smirk and there was nothing more you wanted than to slap those lips clean off his face.
Soon enough, you clocked that it wasn't just an illusion, as he'd shifted to the opposite end of the pitch, the other boys from the football team watching from the stands.
They'd started jeering at every pass, exaggerating their reactions, commentary toeing the border of sexual harassment. You volleyed the ball on your foot, battering it into the stands, grinning widely as it hit one of the boys in the face, leaving his nose lopsided.
"If you're gonna be a sexist piece of shit, just fuck off. My team doesn't deserve to hear your brain-dead commentary, nor see your fuck face." You smiled, bite in your voice. "Kindly take the opinion that nobody asked for and shove it up your ass."
Jaemin's eyes twinkled with respect, breath caught in his throat at the dark look in your eyes. He felt his chest warm in adoration, heart doubling in size. "You heard the lady."
"Includes you too, Jaemin. Better get home before Granny Na starts missing her little boy."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Fuck off." You said playfully, recovering the ball. He waved you bye, lugging his bag over his shoulder, fixing the collar of his jersey. A beam touched your lips, face lighting up.
Jaemin smirked back at you, taking his leave. He dragged the remnants away with him, leaving the girl's football team alone in the cooling dwindle of Autumn light.
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"Nice shorts." A tug.
"Oh? Na Jaemin complimenting me?" You mused in surprise, arms folded across your chest.
"You didn't let me finish." Jaemin whispered, standing on the sidelines of the pitch, pulling at the hem of your shorts. "Ooh, I can see your stubble. Better bring out the razor."
Your jaw tightened, feeling that rush of annoyance fill your veins again. The nerve.
"More stubble than you'll ever grow on that chin."
"At least I'm not a human Sasquatch."
"I've got hair in the right places—" You started, catching the innuendo, glaring at Jaemin's raised eyebrows. "—I know what I meant. Don't be such a dirty boy."
"Say it again. Love the way it rolls off your tongue."
You gaped at him, whole body blowing a fuse, skin reddening at his tone. Sweltering heat danced atop each fingertip, each muscle, making you jolt. His gaze was still glued to your face, relishing the quickly dilating pupils in your eyes.
"I—"
"—Would rather have you speechless after our first time, not for your championship final. When you win, I'll buy you fucking adorable ice cream with the little star sprinkles that you like."
"Going to ignore you on that first statement, but the second one sounds like a motive."
"Win the match, and I'll ask you out. Properly."
You saw his eyes flash with something passionate, flakes of gooey molasses swirling behind the irises. Before you opened your mouth to reply to him, he pleaded silently for you to just take it as it was. "Gimme a chance. Who knows you better than your enemy? Nobody."
"I mean..."
"Only you know that my grandma calls me those corny names or that I see her all the time."
"Or that you lose every game that's not football because you're too lazy to pay attention." You added.
"And I know that you broke a guy's jaw because he was bothering Yangyang." He continued. "And I also know that you know one thing I've never told anyone."
"Ooh, what's that?"
"That I like you."
You looked away from him sheepishly, goosebumps popping up on your skin, and whether it was from the cold or from his words, you didn't know. He was looking down at you tenderly, ruffling your bed of hair, pressing a small, wet kiss to your forehead as the whistle blew.
"Don't play with fire, Na."
"You're more like a carpet burn."
You sighed, defeated. "Fine. I'll give you an answer when we win. If you're playing me, I'll break your arms."
"Okay. Go get 'em, Lady Luck." He smiled, waving you off as you scurried onto the pitch, face glowing under the fluorescent lights. Jaemin felt his chest tighten with pride, jaw aching from all the strenuous smiling.
With that absurdly contented face, you reminded him of a cross between a kid at a carnival and a man about to kill another. Your hair gathered wildly atop your head, a wicked glare painting your face.
This was you at peace, he deduced. Even with the gruesome of expressions, you looked calm. The pitch was truly your home away from home.
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Two minutes into the second half saw you being carried off on a stretcher with a torn hamstring. You'd fallen to the grass, no sounds coming from your limp body. Jaemin swore he felt his heart plunge into his ass, and with a frantic flourish, he was coddling your head into his chest.
"Luck, don't die on me. I'm supposed to take you out for ice cream after this, and I stole Renjun's Baskin Robbins loyalty card to cut costs so if we don't go, I'll be getting beat up without having kissed your stupid face." He babbled, slapping your cheeks, scared that you'd genuinely lost your life.
You groaned, rolling slowly in the elastic. "Stop touching my face, I'll get acne." Mildly concussed, you soothed your throbbing headache, registering Jaemin's face looming over you. "Jaemin?"
"Oh, thank God. Thought I'd never see that unruly sparkle in your eyes again."
"Fuck off. My hamstring feels like a fried chicken mukbang and you're talking about my eyes."
"I can't cry before our first date. You'll think I'm a wimp."
"Already think that."
He hit your arm lightly, beaming at your focus on his face, meeting your eyes. You were glaring at him with a kissable pout on your lips, eyebrows furrowed — he wanted to pepper your face in balmy kisses.
The paramedic pushed him away, leading you to the ambulance. You flipped him off, yelling loudly as they wheeled you in, "Make sure you win! Won't forgive you if you don't."
The girl's football team had gathered around the door, all tight-lipped smiles and crumpled faces. They visibly brightened at your declaration, huddling together to recalibrate — the ref blew her whistle to call them back, summoning them back into position.
Yangyang and Donghyuck left the stands, rushing into the ambulance alongside you, closing the door behind them. Jaemin could faintly hear your loud curses, and sighed in relief, knowing that you'd be fine.
With two goals up, the team were at optimum working speed, playing loyally for your honour. Jaemin stood at the sidelines, holding your jacket in his hands as he recorded the match on his phone, wanting to send it to you later.
At 90 minutes, the girl's team had become the winner of the Division One Seoul Inter-district championship, and Jaemin was content. Not because it meant you'd go on that date with him, but because he could feel how much it meant to them.
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Everyone around him was cheering madly, chanting and spraying assorted drinks in each other's faces, an infectious joy lingering in his veins. Amongst all the commotion, he'd somehow been pushed into the middle of the team, feeling their gazes boring into his frame.
"You like Cap'n, right?" The brunette said, eyes bright.
"No. I don't like her. She's my rival." Jaemin lied pathetically, trying to escape their judgement.
"Why were you in the locker room then?"
"Damn. How do you know that?"
"Cap'n is horrible at lying, so she's always upfront. She also cannot do an impression so she never attempts it."
"Wow, you guys sure know your stuff. Bet she's glad to have a team like you. I know I'm feeling a little jealous."
"Cut the smooth talk. If you like Cap'n, just be straightforward. She's more innocent than she seems, and can get her heart broken easily."
"Got it." He nodded, "Well...ladies, I have to thank you for the advice."
"No problem, but if you break her heart.." They chorused, "We'll break that pretty little nose." Fifteen studded feet swung at his face, narrowly skimming the bridge of his nose.
He flinched, caught off guard, grin bared. "Now, I definitely got that message. I'll be going to check up on her, what do you want me to say?"
"We've already called her and shown her the trophy, so we have nothing left to say, you, however...take all the time you need."
"Since I have your blessing, am I allowed to—"
"Don't finish that sentence. Keep in your lane."
Jaemin promptly closed his mouth, and bid them a goodbye, dashing into his car towards the hospital, stopping at Baskin Robbins to buy the ice cream he promised. He hoped you’d at least be able to eat the sprinkles (the ones you liked were expensive, and if you didn’t eat them, he’d just wasted an extra 2,500 won.)
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In the hospital, you were now dressed in a medical gown, surrounded by the two idiots. It smelt like an experiment lab, and the spotless shades of ivory splashed on the walls made you feel a tad bit overwhelmed.
Your leg had already undergone the MRSI scan, and the nurses had told you that you’d definitely tore your hamstring, but surgery would fix it right up along with natural healing.
Of course, all those details lacked in comparison to your team finally winning the trophy you’d worked so hard towards — that excitement numbed the pain considerably.
“We thought you’d somehow died.” Yangyang confessed, grasping your hands in his clammy ones.
“You did.” Donghyuck sneered, pointing at him, continuing when he saw your face change in confusion. “Yang was convinced that you were invincible like Superman or something. He started blubbering about how you could definitely defeat the grim reaper in close contact and that should be enough to steal back your soul or whatever—”
“I’m just never going to ask questions again.”
“Jaemin was on the verge of a breakdown when he saw you fall. Never have I ever seen him run so fast towards a girl.” Donghyuck said, hand on chin in mock thought.
You blushed, remembering your promise about the ice cream and falling back into the bed in distress.
“What’s going on with you? I saw you two all friendly at the sidelines.” Yangyang murmured, eyes squinting in judgement. “Don’t tell me...you guys fucked before the game?”
Suddenly it was too hot in the room. You fanned yourself to cool down, slapping your own cheeks before pulling Yangyang’s ears. “Yeah, because I have the guts to just have my first time in a school setting.” You deadpanned.
“Naughty girl.” Both boys swooned, unable to note your sarcasm.
“Just because my leg is gone doesn’t mean I can’t harm you anymore. I’ll break your kneecaps.”
In the midst of your fight with your best friends, you spotted Jaemin opening the door, wearing that greasy smirk that made butterflies tickle your throat.
“I see a broken leg isn’t enough to stop you, is it?” Jaemin drawled from the door, hands behind his back. “Still threatening people?”
“It’s not threatening if they deserve it.” You mumbled, suddenly shy. Jaemin maintained his distance from you, arm outstretched, ice cream tub in hand. He was looking away from you, faint blush tinting his cheeks, lips squeezed in a puffy ‘o’.
“Not that I remembered or anything, but you did say something about liking these sprinkles.” He said, eyes darting around to focus on anything but you.
“I do...like these sprinkles..how did you know?”
“Everyone calls you star, and you’re cute. It’s your personality in an edible sugar shape.”
You rolled your eyes at his words, forgetting both Donghyuck and Yangyang were seated in the room. It felt like the two of you were just stuck in your own world, glaring at each other like a pair of lovers.
Unfortunately, that moment was cut short by your ungracious best friends, cooing annoyingly. They were squealing like little girls, incomprehensible screams of ‘our girl’s grown up!’ scraping your eardrums.
“Leave me alone!” You whined, face scrunched in discomfort, making futile attempts to push them away. “Jaemin...please get these two off me.”
“Asking your boyfriend to get rid of us? Already?” Yangyang hollered, one of Jaemin’s arms stopping him from jumping on you again.
“He’s not my boyfriend. As of now, he’s the only sensible one who isn’t mauling the girl with a broken leg, and that’s why I’m asking him for help.”
“Should I throw them out?”
“Yes —actually, do whatever. Let them go terrorise someone that isn’t me.”
“Your wish is my command.”
On that, Jaemin escorted both boys outside, shutting the door on them, cutting off the beginning to their long-winded rant with a smile. That left the two of you alone.
Oddly enough, the silence wasn’t stifling but rather a conversation of the mind — you were able to see what he wanted to say by looking into those mocha coloured eyes. You threw the ice cream tub in the bin, reaching for Jaemin’s hands shyly.
He’d sat down beside you on the bed, just staring at you like you were an abstract painting, a mosaic of a splendid array, unable to take his eyes off you. He took your hand warmly, running his fingers over your calloused knuckles, sharing his heat with you.
“Jaemin.” You yawned, head falling onto his shoulder. “I’m saying yes to your date. If I didn’t get injured, you could’ve taken me out today, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry. Being with you is enough for me, even if I do want to comment on your horrible tackles during the match.” Jaemin teased, grabbing your hand a little tighter.
“Haha...I’m dying of laughter.”
“Hey! None of that here.”
“Sorry. I’m just happy. My team won our first championship, which we’ve been trying to do for three years, and I feel on top of the world. All those years of boys being absolute dickheads to us about our abilities, trying to put us down have amounted to this moment. I’m at peace right now.”
“Don’t apologise. I should be sorry instead. It was easier to talk to you if I pretended I hated you. I shouldn’t have been like that.”
“I accept your apology. But..I think it was cute you couldn’t tell me you liked me! That’s so endearing.”
“Fuck off.”
“That’s my line! Well, you were always attractive to me, even when you were being a dickhead. Now that I think about it, you’re at your hottest when you’re being mean.”
“Is that so?” Jaemin mused, rolling onto his hands, dangling over you, lips eerily close to your own. “Do you want me to treat you mean, keep you keen?”
“Firstly, don’t ever say that again.” You stopped him, hand placed on his chest to push him away lightly. “Secondly, I’ve never had a boyfriend or my first kiss. That means no experience.” You slurred that last part, rushing the words so he wouldn’t be able to hear.
“Cap’n, you’re telling me that I’ll be your first?”
“Not if you don’t ask me out.”
Jaemin sat back beside you, looking up to the ceiling. This was the moment. He took a deep breath, standing up before you, hands rubbing his stomach softly to calm down.
“I wanted to do a real dramatic confession, but I rushed over here in fear that you wouldn’t be able to hit me again, so I’ll have to stick with my speech.” He cheesed, trying to ease himself of his nerves. You laughed, hissing in mock anger when he wore that stupid grin. “I like you. Like a lot. Sometimes, I come to school with a dirty scowl on my face, but then I see your face and start smiling like a love struck fool. You’re someone that I wouldn’t want to lose.”
“Jaemin, you little mongrel. Come here.” You waved him over, arms outstretched in a hug. “Even though I know your ego won’t let you ask me out properly, I would love to be your girlfriend. However, if my heart is broken..I’ll be stoning your car.”
“Thought you were gonna say that you’d break my face.”
“That too.”
He snuggled closer into you, peering up at you with shining eyes, not wanting to move too much to keep you comfortable. You grinned back at him, placing a soft kiss on his head, running a hand through his hair.
That familiar silence returned, and that’s how you fell asleep with Na Jaemin enveloped in your chest. Although you’d broken a leg, Lady Luck seemed to have twiddled her fingers to send you a ‘get well soon’ present, the ever cunning Na Jaemin.
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Five months later had you no longer hobbling around on crutches like a hobbit, but walking proud and tall. Jaemin drove you to school (using the excuse of carpooling) and helped you take your books to first period everyday — the alpha male in him winced seeing you attempt any ‘heavy lifting’, and he’d made it a routine.
“Can you fuck off? I can carry this.” You complained, pinching his side. “Just because I see a physio biweekly doesn’t mean I’m about as able-bodied as a monkey.”
“Got the hair to be a monkey.” He snorted.
“Look who’s talking, Mr.Sasquatch. Bigger feet than his prints, you little scoundrel.”
“Big feet means big—”
“Don’t finish that if you wanna keep the body part in question.”
“—heart. Dirty girl.”
You felt the honey pooling in your stomach, kissing his cheek in haste to escape his relentless teasing. He shut up at that, pulling you back to kiss you properly, attracting the attention of everyone in the hallway.
“Get to class.” He announced as he parted from you, enjoying your petulant face. You hit him softly, flipping him off from behind you, blowing him a kiss.
Ah, Na Jaemin. You still hated him. Just a little less this time.
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teenagebeautyqueen · 5 years ago
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[Image description: a young person holds a mobile phone with a blue case and a paper on the other. the paper has a drawing of an umbrella colored with the trans pride flag. we can only see their upper body. they are looking down and to the left of the image. they're smiling without showing their teeth, and look relaxed. they're wearing a black, loose hoodie and some shorts can be seen at the bottom of the picture. they're also using black nail polish. on the background there is a door and a star wars poster. the other image is a close up of the paper. end ID]
🌈ʜᴇ/ᴛʜᴇʏ🌈
happy trans day of visability to all my fellow trans*!! here is me and my project for peace's day... i personally love it. it's on spanish, but i'll translate it for y'all.
the text on the left says "cada persona que conoces está luchando una batalla de la que no sabes nada. sé amable. siempre", which is the translation of that quote that goes like "every person you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. be kind. always".
the one on the right says "¿qué sentido hay en pelear? ¿por qué insistimos en sabotearnos mutuamente? Todos caminamos por el mismo sendero embarrado, todos nos dirigimos al mismo final." its translation is something like "what's the point on fighting? why do we insist on sabotage each other? we all walk the same muddy path, we are all headed for the same end."
and above the umbrella there's words like "odio", "acoso", "ignorancia" & "discriminación", which mean "hatred", "harassment", "ignorance", and "discrimination".
yeah i'm very subtle.
i've decided to share my story with the world. but i got kinda carried away. it's not s fairy tale, so don't read it if you're sensitive to themes like bullying, mental health issues, and toxic people.
——————————————————————
it's been... one ride of a journey, to say the least. i've said a few times that i started to question my gender around summer. but that's not quite true.
growing up, i never was fond of... anything that i associated with femenine, really. this included, but wasn't limited to, any color that wasn't blue (pink and purple get a special mention, i despised them), flowers, clothes too loose or too tight, shorts if they weren't from some sport, etc. i think you get the idea.
this collided with me being afab (aka a girl for everyone including myself) & neurodivergent. i wanted nothing to do with those things. but society wanted me to love them.
5 yo me said she didn't like Monster High. 5 yo female classmate said i was a weirdo. 7 yo me loved football. 7 yo male classmate said i couldn't play because i was a girl. 9 yo me hyperfixated on minecraft. 9 yo pretty much every classmate called me a geek.
so i stoped trying. for a while, i loved pink, wanted to have rapunzel's hair, watched disney channel, etc. but i already was the weirdo. i remember being three and friends with all of them. i remember playful fights for the toy rocket and reading books with the only other boy who could read, to ourselves, each other, and the whole class. but people grow up, and they change. so yeah, i was bullied. always the last one to be chosen, left alone on the bus rides, on my own at the playground.
and you'll be thinking "that sucks, but pao, how is it related to you being trans?"
you'll see, i didn't have many friends. i was kinda alone until i turned 7. then two new kids came to my class. let's call them eva and john. i made friends with them asap. i loved them so much!! they were my first friends since kindergarden. so i allowed myself to let go. i was already hated by most of my peers. why wouldn't i be myself with those who didn't despise me? (i was 7 when i thought this. 7 years old, and i thought that out of 20 people, 18 hated me. and then people wonder why i've got self-steem issues lmao. i'm tryna make the point that bullying in primary school isn't just some mean kids calling you names. i'm currently in high school and it still has its mark on me. but that's for another moment.)
so yeah. i went "wild". eva has adhd too (noice, right? i mean she has her diagnosis becaise she's primarly hyperactive, while i'm primarly inattentive, but we understood each other way quickier than with neurotypicals– even if i didn't know why yet), and john was kinda shy & corpulent (he wasn't fat, but he didn't look slim either), just like me. so we became friends. and i slowly opened up a little, while still playing my role of "the freak kid". i knew i was seen as that AND as the smart kid. double pressure, double bullying. but i had my small circle. it evolved until my current friend group, in which, god bless, there's a trans girl!! (eva's still on it– she's my best friend and i would die for her, no doubts. john can go fuck himself, the goddamned fascist).
but it ain't that easy. it never is. i'm 14 and afab. shit happens. y'all get it.
my first period happened while i was on a school trip (bad), on a hotel with no pads avaliable (very bad), on another country so i couldn't call my mum unless i had wifi because politics & stuff– and i did not have wifi (really bad). cue a lot of dysphoria (even if i didn't know it was that) + not being able to contact anyone. add the fact that i was the second one to have it, and it was some kind of taboo– it meant the other girls wouldn't leave me alone, and the result is clear: one of my worst panic attacks ever, on a tiny bathroom of some shitty hotel room.
from there it went downhill. my body started to become femenine, and the football short didn't make my hips smaller. my face, my oh so alarged face, suddenly became rounder. puberty hit me not only physically, but emotionally. and if that wasn't enough, we, as a class, were entering what's called here "the turkey age", a.k.a. teenagerhood, where looks become even more important. it didn't take long until i hated my body.
[WARNING: from here, this gets hard. mentions of eating disorders, depressive episodes/thoughts, toxic enviroments, homophobia/transphobia (both internalized and external), anxiety attacks, and thoughts of self-harm]
i thought "it's big, it shouldn't be big, it's fat. besides i don't want it to grow so fast. i want to make it stop growing. how? well, i grow up by eating. no eating=no growing".
yeah. eating disorder. when i think about it, i want to laugh. because it only took a few comments and "jokes" for me to be so angry at myself when i should be mad with them. i'm big. always have been, very likely always will. i've been told that i could make a very good rugby player. i probably would. i shared my cantine table with people (😔). and they wouldn't shut up. "[deadname], the rest wants to eat too!", "look at [deadname], she's gonna eat it all!". things like that. i stoped eating. i would pick up the smallest amount of food i could, even if my stomach was begging me to please eat something. eventually, my mum found out. and she helped me to grow out of it. i sometimes releapse, but never for that long. because i went on a whole year like that. and it sucked.
so, last year. socially anxious neurodivergent girl with several doubts on her sexuality gets to eight grade.
i play basketball. since i was little. i used to enjoy it a lot. we weren't a team– we were a family. loved 'em so much, 1000/10 one of the best things of my life. BOOM. now you're old enough & good enough to be on the "good" team. in the good time there's the cool kids. i am not a cool kid. oops. i was left behind, they all laughed at my back, no one cared about me (except one girl, but she was in the group and was scared to act until almost the end of the year. love her for that tho). i felt like shit. i was too scared to go to train. the sight of a ball scared me, because i couldn't help but think everyone was talking shit about me. we went to a national championship and when they went out to the city, they didn't tell me, then sent a pic of them having fun to the groupchat & delated it saying "oops it was for the other group". i had several breakdowns on my room that night. it was such a bad experience i can't even hear the name of the city without tearing up.
not to count that a new girl decided to make my life a living hell. now i know how to deal with her, but then i didn't, and i ended up curled up on the bathroom floor crying.
all while i discovered my own identity. i was so scared of being non-straight i hated myself for it.
it was a tough year and there were times where i would wish i'd never existed. it was too much for me to deal with, and i was just miserable. but i got out of it. remember the trans girl i mentioned? she's closeted, and she told me just this october. but even before that, she was my friend. she bought a new life to it all, a fresh one. i owe her a lot, including accepting myself as i am.
she is here, despite everything.
i am here, despite everything.
you are all here, despite everything.
some of us aren't here. they are the ones we remember. each one of us has our history. i shared mine with you all. it is not an easy road. you know that. it's hard, and it's tough, and it's difficult, and it's unfair.
but we are here, despite everything. the ones who made it, the ones who didn't, the ones who are halfway through it, and the ones who are to come.
we are here. we are trans. and we won't be erased.
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