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eclecticwordblender · 4 years

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Since @the-rambling-maiden gave me the kind of validation that makes one cry with joy. I couldn’t wait to publish part 2 of Mahabharata High School AU. Ik it’s too long I’m sorry 🥺.

Senior students in the limelight:

Yudhishthir:

The headboy.

Tries really hard to excell, still is barely above average.

Is driven by the idea that everyone likes him while most of his classmates find him plain annoying. Some of the teachers too.

Is the headboy because for some unknown reason Bheeshma likes him and no one likes to disagree with the principal. Dhritrashtra tried opposing but no one really listens to him.

this kid, Krishna ran a campaign that convinced everyone that Yudhishthir is the best headboy they could have. Without that he had no chance.

Everyone else just accepted and now listens to him because that’s what Krishna wants.

“Okay I’ll give a very interesting lecture in Moral science class.”

- everyone, even the teacher struggles to stay awake.

Draupadi:

Head girl.

Has witty comebacks to everything.

An all rounder.

Looking at her, everyone wonders why someone as under achieving as Yudhishthir gets to be the other school captain.

Changed her name to Panchaali. But everyone still calls her Draupadi. Doesn’t like it, but has made her peace with it.

Is already done with the world’s patriarchal ways which are the basis of the school’s sexist rule book.

Is EXTREMELY, EXTREMELY beautiful.

Once, some juniors went to the principal’s office and saw a picture of the first headmistress. They were all admiring her beauty while Draupadi walked in. And suddenly all the admiration shifted to her.

An iconic friendship quadrent of Arjuna, Satyabhama, Krishna and Draupadi exists right since they joined school.

Had a beef with the Geography teacher, Kunti because had a thing going with Arjuna for a while.

“🧚🏻‍♀️🥰 How are we ignoring our beloved head boy today?🥰🧚🏻‍♀️”

Arjuna:

Heart eyes uwu.

Soccer team captain.

Is some sort of a ladies man. However, always prioritises his ECAs and Krishna.

All rounder. Had the achievements to be head boy, definitely not the time.

Girls are always crushing on him.

Dated Draupadi in the freshman year, it didn’t work out. Is still best friends with her though.

Currently in a relationship with Subhadra, she’s two years younger, but our boi doesn’t really care because he’s so smitten by her. Bestfs still above her though.

Is Kunti’s favourite kid. Kunti is an actual sweetheart exclusively to him.

Everyone loves him.

Sometimes sick of all the attention he gets.

Major enimity with the soccer team’s vice captain, Karna.

“I WILL PROVE THE VICE CAPTAIN IS NO MATCH TO ME!”

Bheema:

Really tall, really husky, Fitness freak.

Still loves food more than right about anything.

There’s only one person he’d choose over food. The head girl. Some say he has had a crush on her since junior school. Draupadi values him a lot but doesn’t seem to reciprocate the attention he gives her.

Is stupid, but it’s okay because he’s also the good-est boy in town.

Not very bright academically.

Doesn’t get the recognition he deserves.

Literally the BEST basketball player, but all everyone in school seems to care about is soccer and track events :/.

Has anger management issues which land him into trouble very often.

“Panchaali! You should be proud of me, I prevented a murder today, BY CONTROLLING MY ANGER.”

Nakul:

Is a year younger to everyone in his class.

Really cute, really handsome. Is also well aware about this.

Is not much of a ladies man but SO MANY PEOPLE have crushes on him.

Is practically never seen without his guitar and bestf, Sahadev, who is the only one who shares his birth year.

Can be found giving out personalised skin care routines for fun. And Sahadev, being the brains of the duo, charges in cash, that is how both of them get their pocket money.

Goes to the restroom after every period to make sure his hair are still on point.

Has a successful band. Obviously he’s the lead.

“Wow! Who is this beauty!? Oh my God! This is why I use mirrors as mood boosters.”

Sahadev:

Smartest kid in the school. School topper.

Can talk about random trivia for hours, and people like listening to him.

Is either in the library or hanging out with Nakul.

Hates school A LOT.

Sahadev doesn’t attend a lot of classes because he knows teachers aren’t of any help to him.

Always attends maths class, even though he doesn’t like Sir Shakuni. Prolly because he wanted to be Shakuni’s fav but Shakuni only likes the bad boys. Sigh.

Is a walking human encyclopaedia.

“Why is everyone so stupid!? I WANNA GO HOME! I HATE YOU ALL! (Except my boi Nakul).”

Krishna:

(Ik everyone in the fandom loves him v much. Please don’t hate me for this.)

Manipulative to a point its very toxic.

Doesn’t like taking responsibilities and being held accountable

so just tricks people who take up responsibility into listening to him.

The OG heart eyes in the campus.

Still ships Draupadi and Arjuna for some reason. Even though he treats Arjuna’s girlfriend as his younger sister.

So stubborn.

Is good at everything but doesn’t like the lime light.

A Krishna-Shakuni Feud is the best source of entertainment.

Krishna seems to think that every body who disagrees with him is absolutely wrong and would go any length to make a point. Is also sort of disrespectful to the teachers he doesn’t like.

However, has a very captivating charm that makes him most people’s favourite. Shakuni sees through his well planned schemes because he has fully functional brain cells.

Loves his friendship quadrant and a girl from some other school who visits often, a lot.

A feminist. Hates the school’s rule book in a positive manner.

“🧚🏻‍♀️🥰 What mischief should I do today? And how do I trick someone into thinking it was their idea, not mine?🥰🧚🏻‍♀️”

Karna:

Soccer team vice captain.

Here on a scholarship.

Every girl with daddy issues is head over heels for him.

Uses Hating Arjuna as a personality trait.

Also uses his love for Duryodhana as another personality trait.

Has lots of rumours about him. He doesn’t care because all he cares about is defeating Arjuna.

A lot of students ship Draupadi with him. It’s just stupid. Both of them dislike each other, but are too evolved to care about stupid rumours.

Is extremely generous.

Since the owner’s kid, who is RICH is his bestf, he never misses a chance to slide a meal from the overpriced canteen to any one who forgot lunch.

Suffers from classism and tries very hard to fight the inferiority complex he gets because most kids around are super rich.

Dronacharya dislikes him, he dislikes him back, however, still tries to win him.

Has abandonment issues.

Some say he looks upto Ma’am Kunti for validation.

The cricket coach, Pashuram, likes this kid though.

“Are you challenging me Arjuna!?”

Duryodhan:

Thinks too highly of himself.

Being the owner’s kid makes up for half his personality. The other half is his devotion towards his beloved Karna.

Is probably bi and Has a not so subtle crush on his bestf.

Has another personality that is devoted to trying to convince everyone he should be head boy.

He once started an intervention demanding “Duryodhana should be headbody” and he was also the leader on the intervention. Karna was unwillingly in his support.

Is Sir Shakuni’s favourite bratty kid.

Only listens to Shakuni or Karna.

Comes up with evil and downright mean mischiefs but always fails.

He once tried to full on flirt with Draupadi but got his a*s whooped.

Tried to sabotage Yudhishthir’s reputation but Krishna’s interference led him to fail.

“Where’s Mitr Karna!?!? I get anxiety when I don’t have him or Sir Shakuni around for long!”

“I should be headboy! No head girl. Karna should be headboy 2.”

Dushasan:

Befriended Duryodhana first year of school.

Looks up to Duryodhana. Only imitates his bad qualities. That’s it, that’s his entire personality.

Even Shakuni who loves bratty kids, dislikes this one.

Has more haters than the headboy. Except people hate on him openly.

Total failure.

A bully.

Dushasana can be found in the last room on the third floor of the oldest block very often. That’s the detention room.

Tries to flirt with every girl around, and girls just ew this creep AS THEY SHOULD.

Doesn’t have a personality of his own.

“Dury Bro! HOW DID YOU DO THAT? CAN I TOO PLEASE?”

Sikhandi/Sikhandini:

FEMINIST.

Gender fluid and ready to teach a lesson to anyone who invalidates her.

Strong and independent.

Important member of the soccer as well as the cricket team.

Also, a star athelete.

Has a very strong bonding with Ma’am Amba because VERY similar.

Sikhandi/Sikhandni can be seen gossiping with Amba on the stair case a lot, some claim to have heard them trash talk Bheeshma.

Bold and not afraid to stand for what they believes in without caring about the consequences.

Once they gave herself a third ear piercing, using a compass when Kunti told her a double piercing was a distraction after Yudhishthir complained about it.

Emerges as a parent figure to juniors who are bullied for being different.

“As long as you have the right intentions you’re valid okay?”

Drishtdyum:

Introvert.

Minds his own business.

Manages good grades and a spot in the sports squad.

He found out he shared his birthday with the Draupadi in second grade. Loves her like a sister since then.

The basketball coach sees some spark in him that no one else does.

Is liked by all but doesn’t get the attention he deserves.

Is pretty content with life in General.

Ashwatthama:

Soccer coach’s kid.

Is self aware.

Realistic and practical.

Suffers from major attention deprivation.

Duryodhan lent him a pencil case in second standard. Asshwatthama tries so hard to become his favourite ever since.

The Iconic Karna Dury duo however, ignore almost always.

Expanded the “Duryodhana should be headboy” intervention but his efforts weren’t recognised.

Closeted gay.

Respects superiors while disliking them.

Quite bitter.

“Will this win me Duryodhan’s love?”

Subhadra:

Eyes like forest pools.

Looks up to Draupadi as a role model.

Arjuna is her weakness even though she’s dating him.

Kunti likes her. Doesn’t mind if she’s dating Arjuna.

There’s this brilliant student in the junior section, Abhimanyu. Subhadra and Arjuna spend a lot of time with him together. They sort of look like a very happy family.

Always tops English and History class.

Gossip queen xoxo.

“Draupadi Didi and Krishna bhaiya said so, Arjuna you know I cannot say no to them.”

Dushala:

Is the sweetest person around.

Believes there is some good in every person.

Even hangs out with Duryodhana and squad thinking they’ll change some day.

Karna and Dushala often discuss how to mend this group’s ways, assisted by Dury’s girlfriend, Bhanumati.

Is stuck in a relationship with a jerk but doesn’t have the heart to break up with him.

Is literally kindness personified.

Dushala’s favourite teacher is Gandhaari. Probably because no one else gives the teacher validation and Dushala doesn’t like when someone is sad.

Jayadaratha:

Terrible person.

Only the size of a grain of sand better than Dushasana.

Started Dating Dushala Sophomore year.

Dushala really wants to break up with this jerk but she’s too sweet to hurt someone even as terrible as him so she just avoids him.

Once Draupadi slapped him in public. Dushala cheered the loudest.

Is only relevant because of his girlfriend.

Bhanumati:

Says Duryodhana is an excellent boyfriend.

Corrects her man when he’s wrong.

Is also close friends with Karna.

Led the intervention against the “Duryodhana should be headboy intervention.”

It hurt Dury but it’s okay because Bhanumati has her own thoughts and he respects that. Guess he is actually a good boyfriend.

“OMG DURY!!!! STOP IT! KARNA HOW DO WE STOP DURY FROM DOING ANOTHER F*CK UP?”

Yuyutsu:

Is very lovable.

Boy has no hater.

Somehow was befriended by Duryodhan in junior school.

Feels stuck in the Dury gang ever since.

Secretly, very strongly admires Yudhishthir, Arjuna, Draupadi and of course, KRISHNA.

Is everything you’d wanna fix in Yudhishthir.

Yuyutsu, Dushala and Vikarna trio is bff goals.

“Is there any way I can change my friend group? Face palms”

Vikarna:

Counsels Duryodhana on Yuyutsu’s advise.

There isn’t much to say about him. Dude’s a good guy with humanly flaws.

Feels stuck in Dury gang but has made his peace with their ways.

Dushala, Yuyutsu and Vikarna are often found gossiping with Ma’am Gandhaari, she often warns them about how their other friends are bad kids and they should not get influenced.

“Why!? Because yuyutsu says so that’s why!”

Eklavya:

Here on scholarship.

This poor kid was bullied so much initially when he joined school because of his economic status.

Coach Drona wouldn’t let him into the soccer team because he’s afraid someone might out shine his favourite.

Stays away from the dirty politics in school.

Became a star athelete despite all the odds he faced.

Eklavya was once locked in the washroom before a 100m race on the sports day. No one knows who did that for sure. Although some people claim to know it was Coach Drona.

Rukmini:

President of the theatre club.

Crushes on Krishna for an unknown duration.

Krishna does give her attention because EXCUSE ME, she is impossible to ignore.

Rukmini befriended Nakul in the corridors as they bumped into each other after every period, while going to/coming from the washroom to check their respective hairdos.

Satyabhama:

Is Draupadi’s psychological twin.

President of the debating society.

Another one of Krishna’s closest friends.

The school is full of Satyabhama-Krishna shippers. But their friendship quadrant knows Krishna is smitten by this girl from some other school.

Radha:

The girl from some other school.

Probably goes to an all girls convent school.

Is shy but can be seen having a a gala time with Krishna after school. Friends w Subhadra too.

Nobody in school knows much about her but it’s evident Krishna and her are 11/10 soulmates uwu.

Rukmi:

Rukmini’s twin brother.

Is overly protective of his sister.

Thinks he’s well sorted but almost always creates a mess.

Has some sort of minor feud with Krishna.

Is neck deep in a very toxic friendship with Shishupal.

Shishupal:

Rebel without a cause.

A headache.

Wants to fight Krishna but is scared of him.

Wants to join the Dury gang but no on lets him in.

Shishupal is known to spread the most problematic rumours in school.

Hidimbi:

Stays occupied in her small social circle of not so popular kids.

She’s famous, though doesn’t talk to many people.

Proposed to Bheem in middle school.

Bheem gently turned her down because he was already mad about Draupadi. Hidimba moved on with life without sulking about it. Probably still likes him though.

Also, really close to this Ghatotkutch person who is in fifth grade.

Ulupi and Chitrangada:

Dated Arjuna for a few weeks each.

Then bonded over how he’s not a good boyfriend and not as perfect as everyone thinks he is. they do have a point though.

Are now bestfs and don’t like anyone else in school.

Since, I’m an attention wh*re tagging: @bigheadedgirlwithbigdreams @soniaoutloud @supermeh-krishnafan @incorrectmahabharatquotes @chaanv @hoeticulture @lemponkoira @1nsaankahanhai-bkr

Also, link to part 1: https://eclecticwordblender.tumblr.com/post/625462681921568768/foundation

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years

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Chapter Three. Mind Your Business

the scene is set in 1956, a young man moved to Hollywood to follow his dreams of becoming an actor. But with little money and a struggle to keep his apartment, he is approached by a man who offers him a job at Sweetland

a/n: decided to title this chapter ‘mind your business’ because no ones sexuality is anyone’s business! dont assume, make fun of, invalidate anyone’s sexuality because it’s not funny nor is it cute. YOUR SEXUALITY MATTERS AND ITS BEAUTIFUL

SERIES MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAGLIST | chapter word count: 8.9k

warnings: biphobia (it’s the 1950s)

TALK TO ME ABOUT CN! let me know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

It was Friday, two weeks later as you were sitting with your girls at Mel’s Drive in as you three talked and ate.

Frances was talking about her date that she went on last weekend with the guy that worked with them; as she did assume he was going to ask her out, which he did. She was practically gushing over him as you and Alice listened as you ate, both being happy for her.

“He was the sweetest guy! Took me to a drive in and after we walked on the beach! It was so fun, and after he kissed me-” You and Alice gasped, interrupting her story. “On my cheek! Jeez, you two are something. But it was the sweetest kiss, and ugh! I just want him to ask me out again.”

“The next time you see him, maybe mention that you’d like to go out again, or invite him for a bite to eat,” you told her, and she nodded. “So, Alice, what about you and that guy you were seeing?” She changed the subject.

Alice scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Ugh, I’m not seeing him anymore. He can never make up his mind if he wants to take me out on a date or just wants to continue fucking me, so I dropped him,”

“Good for you,” you say, taking a bite of your toast. Alice was always one for being decisive and assertive. Just like you, she doesn’t take shit from anyone, but she’s ten times more intense than you. But overall, you love her for it.

“Yeah, although, I’m having eyes for someone right now. Behind you,” she only told you, since you were sitting across from the two.

You slowly turned around, trying not to make it obvious that you’re turning around. And what you saw was something shocking, and it made you have a cough attack as you choked on your toast.

“Oh my god, doll, are you okay?” Frances asked. You grabbed your napkin, hysterically coughing into it, and Alice handed you your cup of water.

Practically everyone around your booth was staring at you oddly, wondering if you were okay or not, and once you finally calmed down and the piece of bread washed down your throat, you took a deep breath.

“You sure you’re okay?” Alice asked.

“Yeah, uh, that guy your ogling…”

“What about him?”

“That’s Harry.” Alice and Frances’ eyes widened, immediately moving their heads to take another look at him as their jaws dropped.

“That’s Harry?!” Alice asked in shock.

“Like, as in the Harry?!” Frances added.

“Yup. The one and only.” You watched your friends practically stare at the guy you’ve been thinking about for the past two weeks.

“Oh my god, he’s hotter in person than you described,” Alice swooned. “Sorry, for hitting on your man, doll.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. If he hit on you dolls, I wouldn’t even be mad because I’d hit on you both too,” you teasingly winked at them, and they both raised their eyebrows in a flirty way

Another thing you loved about your trio was that you were able to make those kinds of remarks without them thinking it was weird. You were truly grateful for friends that accepted your bisexuality, or else you would’ve been in shambles. And besides, who doesn’t hit and flirt with their best friends?

“I can’t believe that’s him!” Frances exclaimed.

“Yeah, he’s handsome, isn’t he?” They both nodded, excitedly.

“Well, are you gonna go up to him?” Alice wondered. You turned around again to really get a look at him. He was facing you, sitting across a lady as they both chatted. He hadn’t seen you, and you were thankful for it because you didn’t want him to see the hint of sadness in your eyes because of the hint of jealousy you had in your body.

You shook your head, “Hell no. He’s obviously on a date.”

“You don’t know that!” Frances said optimistically. You really didn’t know. It was a bit after four p.m, so you didn’t know if it was for work or if he was actually on a date. Either option, you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. Of course, you couldn’t stop him from working, but if it was anything outside of work, the thought made your heart sink.

“Well you’re gonna have to suck it up because I just paid and he’s sitting right by the door,” Alice said, gathering her purse. You closed your eyes for a moment, preparing yourself to simply just walk by him, and you hoped he wouldn’t see you as you were doing so.

You walked behind the two, following them to the exit of the diner as you looked at Harry the whole time. He hadn’t noticed you at first, but until you walked past by his table, he definitely saw you.

As you two made eye contact, it was like you were sucked in; never for a second breaking contact with him as his green eyes captured yours. You noticed his face perk up, smiling widely.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hi,” you said with a smile as you stopped walking. Alice and Frances heard you causing them to stop walking as well.

“How are you? Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said; the person sitting across from him was completely forgotten as the woman watched the interaction between you two as she stirred her coffee.

“Yeah. Uh, two weeks,” you nodded, silently cursing yourself as you seemed like a complete idiot for keeping track.

You took the time to subtly look over to the person on the other side of the booth, and saw a very gorgeous looking woman who was probably in her late twenties. She was tan and had long locks of red hair, and her outfit was quite cute as well. And if you weren’t swooning over Harry, you would definitely be swooning over the lady in front of you.

“Yup, two weeks,” he confirmed.

In all honesty, he’s missed you. You two had only met once, but he’s missed being around you—your presence comforted him.

“I should get going. Have a lovely rest of your day, you two,” you told Harry and his date before walking out with Alice and Frances.

Your face remained neutral as you walked out as the girls followed. Once you were outside, they both put an arm around you, comforting you.

“I’m sorry, doll,” Frances said sadly.

“I mean, at least you weren’t too attached, right?” Alice said, somehow convincing you.

“Yeah…” you agreed, but in all honesty, you were already attached. You’ve known him for tops, two hours, and in those two hours, you came to the conclusion that you really like him. That may make you a bit crazy, but you couldn’t help how you feel. Harry’s charming and sweet and humble. How could you not fall for him?

“It’s okay! Let’s have a dolls night? We can watch a movie at my house and maybe a sleepover?” Frances suggested, and Alice nodded her head eagerly.

“I’m up for both, what do you say doll?” They both looked at you with pleading eyes, wanting you to agree to have a night with them to simply take your mind off Harry. And you wanted that too; to just be with your girls and out of your parent’s home.

“Both sounds lovely,” you agreed, and they squealed in excitement as you three walked to your car, hoping your mind gets a break from thinking about the man inside of the diner.

Harry was sitting in front of a woman that didn’t really spark his interest. Don’t get him wrong, she was very stunning in every way, but he’d noticed that you really set the bar for him.

After your little cloud nine adventure together two weeks ago, Harry had three customers within those weeks. One of them was married, so they only stuck to oral as she claimed that “it’s not fully cheating if I don’t go all the way,” to which Harry was baffled by her explanation. The next one was a young man, probably the same age as Harry or a little younger, and he told him that he was curious what it was like to have sex with another man. So, Harry fucked him and met all his expectations, to which he got a very decent tip from him. The next one was a woman his age that works at a fancy restaurant, and told him that it was her only day off and decided that she needed to get laid, and of course, Harry helped her.

But those three encounters did not compare to you. He mentally slapped himself thinking he was crazy that he was even comparing others to each other, but he couldn’t help it. Since the very first time he saw you, he thought you were the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. And it wasn’t just the way you felt around his raging hard on, but it was the way you talked to him and the way you listened to what he had to say. He felt important and valid when he was around you because that’s how you treated him.

And Daren can throw so many women and men his way, but Harry’s come to the conclusion that you’re always going to be on his mind, despite only knowing each other for less than a day, he was completely whipped.

“Harry?” Jeannette, the woman from across from he said. He broke out of trance and softly smiled at her. “Are you okay? You kind of blanked out.”

“Oh, yeah. I am. Did you want to get going?” He suggested, and she perked up at that, nodding her head excitedly.

Harry and Jeannette headed over to her apartment where they talked for about a minute or two before she inched closer to him, giving him a kiss to his cheek. Harry turned his head slightly, and she captured his lips against hers.

As they kissed, her hand traveled to his crotch and he was taken by surprise as he slightly jumped as she rubbed the front of his pants. Usually, he would be turned on, but there was a sort of rushness he felt through her actions that he wasn’t into, and he was sure she felt it in the kiss he gave her. And he wasn’t even hard.

The kiss he gave her was one that had no effort, but kissing just to kiss and going with the flow as she was the one in control of it.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled back. Jeannette’s lipstick was all over the place and he’s sure that there’s some on his lips as well.

“Is something wrong?” She asked concerningly.

“Uh, I…yeah. Can we just take it slow?” He asked hesitantly, and she nodded her head slowly.

“Sure,” she said as she waited for him to make a move or say something.

But Harry was lost in his mind as he thought about you. And he knows he shouldn’t when there’s a gorgeous girl right in front of him, but the occurring thought of you washed throughout his mind and there was no effort in stopping it.

He thought back to the day when he met you up to when you two had sex. He loved the way you built up the sexual tension and the way you teased him into sexual agony. The way you would smirk at him when he would do something sexy or when you would participate in his playful banter. And he couldn’t forget about the slight dirty talk that came out of your mouth, to which he knew there’s more from where the words came from, but since it was your first time together, there were only a few words. But those words were enough to cum twice.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Jeannette suddenly said, and Harry’s brows raised in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“The girl from the diner. There’s something between you two, I can tell,” she explained.

Harry chuckled, scratching his head as she read him very well. “I-I mean there’s nothing going on, but she was a customer and-”

“And you like her,” she finished for him. Harry slowly nodded, feeling guilty that someone else had to tell him.

“Yeah—I’m sorry. I know you came to the shop for a good time, and I’m sorry I couldn’t deliver,” he apologizes with a small frown on his face, and she waved it off.

“It’s alright. I could tell she’s into you also, but I don’t know, by her wandering eyes, I may be wrong.”

Harry looked at her confused, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, she was checking me out. She had her eyes on me when she was talking to you, and I looked at her as well—saw her eyes go up and down on me. Think she might be into girls too?” She said casually as she got up and walked over to her bar cart, grabbing herself a drink.

“Oh, uh, did you have a problem with that? Her checking you out?” Harry wondered, and if her answer wasn’t the one he was looking for, then the conversation would end badly.

“Well, yeah!” And Harry got his answer. “She was checking me out, Harry. Had some flirty eyes when she looked at me, and it made me uncomfortable.”

Harry controlled his temper, answering her with a cooled tone. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. She was probably just wondering who I was with.”

“Still. I know when someone’s gay, and she definitely is. Do you really want to be with someone like that? One who can’t fully give themselves to you? It’s not a real thing,” she rolled her eyes, and Harry was infuriated.

“Not a real thing? Don’t speak about her like that! So what if she likes men and women? Her sexuality has nothing to do with you nor is it your business,” he snapped at her, fully angry and annoyed.

“Woah, why are you getting so mad? I’m just saying-”

“No, what you’re saying is that you’re assuming her sexuality, and also invalidating it. That’s so low, very low,” Harry got up, heading for the door.

“Well, don’t cry when she doesn’t want you and has eyes on another woman!”

“You’re saying a lot of bullshit that doesn’t make sense, but gladly, fuck off!” With his last words, he slams the front door, huffing all the way out of the apartment complex.

He’s never felt so angry with anyone nor had he snapped like that at anyone, especially women. His mother has always taught him to be kind and respectful to everyone. “But if there’s something that they said was wrong, I expect you to stand up for those who aren’t there to stand up for themselves and people who don’t deserve hatred whatsoever,” his mother would say. And that’s exactly what he did. He stood up for you, even if you weren’t, for the Eric and Mack who is gay and bisexual, and for everyone else whose sexualities are being hated on because ‘it’s not the right way.’

When he was walking towards Hollywood, he realized he was in Downtown; way too far for his liking to walk back. But luckily, he had some spare change for the railway.

He arrived at Sweetland a little past five, and Daren smiled, but also wondered why he was back earlier than usual.

“Sorry, Daren. The customer I had today was just…” he trailed off, not knowing how to put what had happened into words.

“What happened, kid?”

“Well, it was going well—kinda. We were at a diner, and went back to her place, kissed a little, but I wasn’t really into it, to be honest,” Harry said, and Daren chuckled. “She started saying things about gay people and how bisexuality isn’t real, and I just snapped.”

Daren hadn’t said anything, and Harry was starting to feel anxious. He didn’t know if his boss was going to be mad because he didn’t get any tip, plus he made a customer angry. But Daren reacted the opposite and smiled.

“I’m proud of you, boy,” he said, patting his shoulder.

“Really? I’m sorry I didn’t get any money and didn’t do my job, but she was insulting people!”

“Hey, I don’t care. What you did was right, and I’m glad you did it. Would’ve done the same thing, and leave them horny and to dry,” Daren laughed, and Harry joined.

“Did it for Eric and Mack too,” Harry included.

“They would be so grateful you stood up for them. Tough world out there, and it hurts that people can’t live freely,” Daren shook his head, feeling ashamed of how society is developing with discrimination and hatred.

“I’ll clean up here,” Harry said, grabbing a broom from behind the storage door. He started to sweep up the dust and candy that’s fallen out of their jars. It was a long day for Harry, and it’s going to be even a longer one tomorrow. He’s got a day off from Sweetland for a couple of days, so that means he has to run down to the studio to try and be picked to be an extra or get a screen test. He sighed deeply, thinking about how chaotic it’s going to be tomorrow, and hopefully not be let down once again.

“Hey, kid?” Harry perked up. “You said you weren’t into when you were smacking lips with that customer…why’s that?”

Harry smirked, holding the broom in his arms as he spoke. “Well, there’s this girl…”

It was the usual ten a.m morning rush when folks would gather around in front of the gates of the studio, patiently waiting for two casting directors to come out and make their picks.

He put on his best clothes; wearing a tan gridded trousers, a cream button down shirt with bottles printed on it, and on top of it, a red and yellow sweater vest. He was always a sucker for a stylish and comfy sweater vest; made him feel very professional along with fashionable.

As he made his way through the crowd, trying to find Mikey, he found that many people were incredibly rude. They pushed and shoved him as he tried to squeeze in between him, and said some really harsh words. He knew he was ‘cutting’ them, but his friend was waiting for him up at the gates.

“Hey, Mikey,” Harry greeted, and Mikey turned around, beaming his camera smile.

“Harry! I’m so glad you’re here. They’re about to come out any second,” Mikey nudged him.

“Do you think today’s the day?” Harry asked his friend hopefully. Mikey always had this sixth sense that he was able to feel the difference between the good and bad vibes from what they both manifested. And most of the time, It was either a blessing or curse to know.

“Honestly…” he said suspensefully as Harry waited for, hopefully some good news. “I have a good feeling about this,” Mikey smiled, and Harry clapped his hands once, loudly.

“That is the shit I like to hear,” Harry said excitedly, putting an arm around Mikey as the boys both smiled in anticipation.

After a few minutes, the crowd spotted two people walking towards the gate as the guards opened them. The crowd of locals went wild, throwing their hands up as they screamed “pick me!”

Again, Harry used his trick of smiling not too big and not too small to make him seem like he was trying too hard. The woman scanned through the crowd, glancing at the eager people. She pointed at the ones she wanted, usually picking about five or six people to bring with her on set; already picking five people.

Once she glanced over to the area Harry was standing, looking over if she wanted to pick another one, but stuck with five. Everyone’s eagerness altered, frustrated that they weren’t picked. Harry’s expression turned into a sad one, wishing he wasn’t too hopeful when Mikey said his senses were telling him they were good. And just as he was about to leave, something struck the lady causing her to turn back around.

Everyone in the front rows saw it, making them smile quickly at her. But Harry panicked because he thinks he’s looking right at him, despite the sunglasses. Harry softly smiled, in case she really was. And his day, possibly his life, changed when she lifted her hand and pointed right at him, gesturing to him to follow her.

Harry was in complete shock, practically not even believing he was picked until Mikey physically pushed him towards the gate because the ladies and the rest were waiting.

“Go on man! You got picked!” Mikey said excitedly, and Harry snapped out of his disbelief, beaming at his friend and kissing him on the forehead before walking inside the gates of Paramount Studios.

He was so in awe of the whole atmosphere; the crew working on building sets, making props, wardrobe, the cameras—everything. He’s never seen the real thing up until now. But when he was picked to be an extra with Mikey when they had first met, they weren’t in front of cameras or a big set; they were part of the rehearsal act that included them being in a room with all the other actors, so this was a huge deal for Harry.

When the ladies led the ‘picked ones’ to a room where the screenwriter, director, and producers sat, Harry felt his anxiety rise up again. He had no idea what was about to happen, but he made sure to do it with feeling and to give his best performance.

“Alright, everyone. In my hand, I have the script of the upcoming movie we finally got approved of. I picked six of you by random to act out specific parts that I think will fit you,” the lady explained. Harry noticed that everyone in this industry was very fierce and strong willed. But he figured, they probably have to because this is a very serious job that has to do with entertaining the entire country. “Think of this as an audition to a movie—because it is. This is the real deal, kids. We’ve never done this before, only picking you all up to be extras, but since we have some small roles that need to be filled, this is your time to shine.”

She grabbed a stack of scripts and handed it to the group. And when Harry felt the stack of papers that could possibly include one of his lines in a big movie, he felt like he was dreaming. He’s never held an entire script in his hands before, and god, he wished he would hold scripts for the rest of his life.

“Each of your scripts has a sticky note on it that says the name of the character that I think suits you all, again, based on first glance. You will go to the lounge area, study your character and the general plot of the movie, and you will come back to audition for us. You don’t have to memorize it, but it is suggested. We just want you to get a feel of the character. You have an hour to do so,” she dismissed everyone as they walked out the door and to the lounge room.

The room was like a movie theatre in some sorts; sofas lined up as people sat and talked about everything and anything. Harry picked a spot in the back, so no one would disturb him as he was buried in the script, studying the character he’s auditioning for.

After thirty minutes of studying the plot and his character, he came to realize that the movie was a romance film. The classic story of a man falling for a woman, but the woman is hesitant. The casting director had assigned Harry to audition for the main character’s best friend. And when Harry found that out, he was ecstatic. The role obviously wasn’t the lead character, but it was pretty close.

Harry took the rest of his time to memorize the highlighted lines. He knew he didn’t have to, but like the casting director said, it’s better to. And he’s very grateful for his memorization game that he’s had ever since he was younger; always memorizing lyrics to songs when only hearing it twice.

With hushed mumbles of his lines, repeated saying it over and over again, he felt confident and he was ready. He had about ten minutes to go before it was time to go back to the room, but he decided to head over there already because he learned that you should always show them that you’re ready; it builds confidence in yourself and it’s always good to be early better than late.

Harry waited outside of the room when an older lady approached him.

“Harry, right?” The woman asked, and his head perked up, surprised one person even knew his name in this place.

“Yeah, that’s me. And you are?” He asked politely, flashing her his million dollar smile.

Always be nice to others; no matter how good you think you are, you never know where kindness will take you in life.

“I’m Shareen. I’m not sure if you remember me, but I was at one of your auditions a few weeks ago,” she told him, handing him her hand to shake. Harry took it as his eyes widened, remembering the woman in front of him. She was an older woman--somewhere in her 60s. Harry noticed that she was wearing a barrette on her head, just like the last time he saw her; probably one of her staple pieces, which he thinks is lovely. Shareen had a friendly face as well; Harry not being intimidated by her like he is with the rest of them as she kindly smiled at him with bright eyes.

“Ah, yes! I remember you. It’s lovely to meet you, officially. Also, love the barette you’re wearing,” he compliments honestly.

“Oh, thank you, dear. Quite a favorite of mine.” Shareen felt nothing but giddiness when someone noticed her barrette. None of her coworkers rarely noticed it, so it made her happy when someone complimented her on it.

“It looks wonderful on you,” he smiled, and she placed her hand on his arm.

“You’re sweet. But I wanted to come by and introduce myself, and tell you that I think you did really well. It’s too bad one of the producers cut it way too short--I was eager to see what you could offer,” Shareen smiled softly, feeling bad for the young man in front of her.

“Oh, thank you. That means a lot to me,” Harry smiled widely, feeling immensely grateful for someone from the industry to say something like that to him. He rarely gets told that he’s good at what he does, and for someone to say that to him means a ton. “But I’m happy to be getting another shot.”

“Me too, dear. I just know you’ll do just great,” she patted his shoulders before walking into the room, leaving him to wait alone again. What she had told Harry had given him a boost in motivation; it encouraged him to keep going and to keep trying. And sometimes that’s all he needs--a boost of encouragement to tell him that he’s doing things right. That’s all what everyone needs.

The other five people had gathered around next to Harry as they waited for another three minutes before they were called in. He took in everyone’s moods as he does, and controlled his breathing and nerves. Everyone was obviously very nervous--Harry was as well, considering this could possibly be a huge step in their careers.

“Harry and Sky, please come in,” a man called out from the door. Sky was another actress that he assumed he would be auditioning with. She smiled softly at him before walking towards the room, Harry following.

The room was even more intimidating than the first time. Five pairs of eyes stared at the two as they walked in and stood on the mark that was taped to the floor.

“Alright, you two. You’ve studied your roles, and now it’s time to perform them. You will be auditioning for page 50.” Harry and Sky flipped to that page as they both studied it for a second. Feel free to use your scripts. But give us your best performance, okay?” One of the ladies said, and Harry and Sky nodded eagerly, nerves creeping up both of their skins.

Harry glanced at Shareen, and found her smiling at him. The friendly face and smile had calmed him down a bit, remembering her words. After a minute of gathering their notepads, she spoke again. “And action!”

Harry and Sky turned towards each other with scripts in their hands; Harry walking passed her, arms crossed so he wasn’t tempted to look down at his lines. “I just…they’re not right for each other!” He said.

“They’re getting married--what can you do?” Sky acted out, a frustrated look on her face.

“Stop it.”

“What?” Sky scoffed.

Harry grabbed her shoulders, according to the script, shaking her lightly and said, “Don’t you get it? We have to stop the wedding!”

“You’re his best friend! How could you do that-”

“Because I’m in love with her!” Harry exclaimed

“No…”

“Yes! I’m in love with her. We have to stop the wedding,” his eyes pleaded.

“You’re insane, Nate.” Sky removed herself from his hold, walking away before Harry ran in front of her to stop her, grabbing her shoulders again.

“Insane? Don’t tell me that you haven’t been thinking about it too. I know you’re in love with Matt,” Harry raised his brows.

“That doesn’t mean we stop their wedding,” Sky scolded.

“But that means we’ll be happy. Can’t you see that?”

“And cut!”

Harry and Sky broke out of character. Their faces returned back to normal as they weren’t two stressed out adults who were planning to ruin their best friend’s wedding. Half of the table clapped for them, Shareen, of course, being one of them.

“Wonderful job, you two,” Shareen said with a delighted smile. “We just need your contact information just in case, and you’re free to go.”

Once Harry gave them his contact information, which was simply his home phone, he walked out of the studio with a big smile on his face. He had no idea what the outcome would be with all of this, but he was proud of himself for getting through it, and he thought he did a wonderful job this time.

“Catherine, I know you can lift your leg up higher than that!” You teased one of your students, giving them an encouraging smile. Catherine lifted her leg up all the way to her head, and you clapped for her. “There you go!”

It was your Monday ballet basics class as little five to seven year olds were spread out, and working on the little number you made up for them. You were exhausted from the long hours of class and plus, it was eleven in the morning, seeing as you were up since seven. But you had an hour left to go before you get to go home, and have a nice bath and a house all to yourself.

Your father was at work, thankfully not going to be home until later in the night, and your mother was helping her friend with a charity foundation. And an empty house and a relaxing bath that will probably end up with you touching yourself, was calling your name.

You haven’t been laid since the night you and Harry had sex, and the most you’ve been doing since then was pleasuring yourself. There was just simply no sexual interest when you looked at others, and you may have to just curse Harry out for ruining your sexual life for you, but you were fine getting yourself off.

As you watched your class run through the routine, you felt a presence behind you, causing you to turn around and see Tyler smiling at you. Tyler was one of the few guys who taught ballet, and on Mondays, he taught the ages of eight to twelve in the morning; the same time as you.

“Hi, Tyler.”

“Hey. Are you almost done with the class?” He asked.

“Yeah. About 40 minutes left--why aren’t you in class?” You asked, figuring he had about the same time left as you, and wondered why he wasn’t with his students.

“I dismissed them early. It’s Monday, the hardest day of the week. But I was wondering if you’d like to get some lunch after your class ends? I’m free for the rest of the day,” he asked you hopefully.

It wasn’t like you didn’t like Tyler because you thought he was really nice and friendly. When you two had met, he asked you out for dinner, but you were with Chris at the time, so being a loyal girlfriend that you were, you said no, to which he understood. When he somehow found out that you and Chris broke up, he asked again, and you told him honestly that you didn’t want to date nor did you want to go out, and he understood again. But up until now, it was constant questions of asking you on a date and the constant rejection of you saying no. It was clear he couldn’t take a hint.

“Oh, uhm, I was hoping to be alone today…” you scratched your neck awkwardly.

“Gotcha,” he nodded his head. “But another question, why do you never want to go out with me?”

“Tyler, I think you’re a really nice guy and I’ve noticed you have some certain eyes for me ever since we met, but I’m just not interested in you. And I hope you understand that,” you told him honestly, but ultimately feeling bad that you even had to tell him that.

You heard him scoff and saw him roll his eyes, “Unbelievable.” You saw him start to pace, and you were afraid that he would snap in front of your students, so you stopped the music, telling them to take 5, and brought him out to the hall.

“What is your problem?” You asked confusingly.

“You think you’re the shit, don’t you?” His voice started to raise.

“No, I don’t actually.”

“You do though! Think you’re all high and mighty just because you’re a rich bitch, but guess what? You’re not!”

“I never thought I was, but okay,” you said sarcastically, completely annoyed that you have to put up with this dumb arguement.

“No, you do. Just because you like men and women, you think you can just get anyone?” You looked at him amusingly; you think it’s funny he says that because he’s been begging you to go out on a date with him. “What? You’re secret’s out.”

“Never really kept it a secret, and I’m happy about that,” you entertained him as he began to grow more frustrated, but you were completely over this conversation as you were never going to give him the satisfaction of snapping at him, so he could possibly tell people that you weren’t all what you seemed.

Before you reached for the door to your classroom, you turned around one last time. “Hey.” Tyler turned around like a kid who just got scolded, which only added to your amusement. “Feel free to spread that secret of mine, yeah? Makes me proud to be who I am.”

Your original plan was to go home after class and have a nice day to yourself, but you found yourself parked in front of Sweetland, debating with yourself whether you should go in or not.

You’ve been sitting in your car for a good 10 minutes under the sun, and your debate meter is pointing to yes because it’s scorching hot in July in California. But not only your body melting from the heat that your debate meter is green on yes, but also wanting to see Harry.

It’s been a few days since you last saw him at the diner, and it was no secret that you missed him, but seeing his face after two weeks made you realize that you truly missed him. So you made the conscious decision to get out of your car and enter Sweetland.

When you opened the door, you stumbled into someone who was pushing the door out, but you beat him to it, causing him to fall forward slightly.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Once the man regained his balance, his eyes met yours, and he smiled. “Oh, Harry.” It was the same man that you were at the shop for, and you couldn’t be more happy to see him.

“H-Hi,” he said nervously, running his ringed clad hand through his disheveled curls.

“Are you off of work right now?”

“No, I didn’t work today actually. But we’re still open, so you could go inside.” A hint of pain was felt in his chest when he said those words; wanting to be the one to help you and not one of his coworkers.

“Oh…I was actually looking for you,” you smiled, and Harry’s eyes widened.

“R-Really?” He asked surprisingly, and you nodded. “I’m not working though, I just came by to get my paycheck.”

“Yeah, but I was wondering if we could maybe go out for lunch? That’s if you’re free though.” A hopeful smile was brought onto your face and your innocent eyes looked at him, making it unbelievably hard for Harry to say no, not like he wanted to.

“I’d love to!” He said a little too excitedly, so he toned it down a bit. You chuckled at his lifted mood. “Where would you like to go?”

“Swinger’s isn’t too far from here, if you’d like to check that place out? Heard their waffles and milkshakes are to die for,” you mentioned, trying to convince him at the thought of food.

“Didn’t have to mention waffles—already wanted to go with ya,” he smirked, teasing you as he read your mind while you were trying to convince him. He earned a giggle from you as you walked to the driver side of your car as he walked up to the passenger side. “Ah, missed Rosie,” he said as he got in.

“Rosie or me?” You bantered, starting your car up.

“It’s a close tie between you two, to be honest. Although, Rosie might be winning,” he played back. Your jaw dropped dramatically, slapping his chest playfully.

“Well, what if I say we could share a milkshake? Would I earn points then?” You leaned in a tad bit, asking something so innocent but your time was saying the opposite.

“Do I get to choose the flavor?”

“The choice is all yours, honey.”

“Let’s get there in one piece and maybe I’ll decide then, yeah?” He said, ending the bacon and forth teasing. You giggled as you put your car in drive, and drove off to Swinger’s.

The booth was a cushioned, checkered print seat, but it wasn’t as comfortable as Mel’s, albeit, you’re a bit biased because you’ve been going to Mel’s ever since you were younger, so you couldn’t compare the two. But it was a lovely diner either way.

Sitting in front of Harry was a bit of a dream. You’d imagined meeting him again over and over without it leading to sex, and the simplicity of how the reality of it turned out to be made you happy.

You and Harry talked about simple likes and dislikes as a way to ease into getting to know each other. You found out that he prefered mint chip over cookies n’ cream, and to say you were disappointed was an understatement when he ordered you both a mint chip milkshake to share.

“What? It’s flavorful! Not your usual,” he argued playfully.

“But cookies n’ cream is just a staple. You can’t go wrong with that,” you raised your brows, knowing you were right and he knew it too.

“I mean you’re right, but mint chip is good! We’ll get cookies n’ cream the next time,” he told you, putting a truce on the debate, but you ignored the truce as your heart fluttered multiple times at the words ‘next time’ and you wanted to do pirouettes from excitement. “Okay, okay. Pancakes or waffles?”

“You can’t pick between the two,” you simply put it.

“That’s a very easy answer though. It’s waffles,” he said.

Just as you two discussed how you couldn’t choose between the two because you had to be in a certain mood for both, your food had arrived; the aroma of freshly made waffles hit your senses, making your mouth water.

“So…” you started, sipping the milkshake with your straw. Harry’s head lifted, giving you a smile, encouraging you to continue. “How was your date on Friday?” You asked hesitantly, not really wanting to know if it went well.

“Uh, not so good…”

“Oh?” Now you were intrigued. You tried to contain a smile from beaming out by pulling in your lips together, but your eyes said it all. And Harry read your expression, knowing you were happy with what he said. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh, uhm-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you said, noticing his hesitation.

“I do. I just don’t know how to put it,” Harry nervously scratched his head as you told him to take his time. “So she was actually a customer from the shop,” he mentioned, and you gulped, waiting for him to continue. “She wanted to grab a bite to eat before we go back to hers, then we saw you, and I was just so lost in thought of you that I wasn’t paying attention to her that she noticed, so I suggested we just go back to hers. We got there and she immediately started making out with me and placing her hand on my dick, which kind of startled me because I wasn’t really hard or turned on nor was I into it,” Harry explained.

“Can I ask why you weren’t into it?” You asked, somewhat knowing the reason, but wanting to hear it from him.

“You. I was thinking of you the whole time, and she also sensed that. And then…” he stopped talking, like he didn’t want to tell you anything.

“Take your time, or you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you said calmly, having no idea if something bad had happened during their time together, and you were a bit pissed but you didn’t want to force him into telling you.

He took a deep breath, controlling his breathing. “We stopped, and she assumed that you were the reason why I wasn’t into it, and she was correct, but then she started to say things how you were into both men and women, saying how weird that was because you wouldn’t give yourself to one person or some shit like that, and by then I was completely off the rails--pissed.”

“She said that?” You asked with no emotion behind your words, and he nodded.

“Said it was because you were checking her out at the diner and it wasn't a real thing to like two genders or some shit. I was proper livid,” he shook his head, still in disbelief that he came across a person like that. You only nodded your head slowly, trying to take everything in. Plus, this was not how you imagined coming out to Harry. “But told her to fuck off, and how rude it was to one, assume someone’s sexuality. And two, say that it’s not a real thing. Then I left.”

Your eyes softened as you looked at him; a crease in his forehead made you reach across the table and smooth it out with your thumb. His features softened, and he looked at you, seeing your glossy eyes look right back at him.

“Thank you for saying that. No one’s ever defended me like that besides my friends, and that means a lot to me,” you gave him a small smile to which you earned one back. It felt some sort of shock knowing that people live in fear and can’t be who they want to be because society doesn’t accept it, and he felt some sort of sadness when you thanked him and said that no one else ever defended you.

“Of course,” he said, reaching across the table to hold onto your hand, which you gladly took. His thumb caressed your soft skin, making no effort to let go; not like you wanted him to.

“I was supposed to have a relaxing night to myself, but I’m glad I went to the shop.”

“Me too. What made you change your mind?” He asked, and you rolled your eyes, remembering the events that happened before you left the studio.

You told Harry about Tyler, not leaving out a single detail of what he said to you as it was still fresh and ingrained into your mind. The entire time you told the story, Harry also rolled his eyes and scoffed at some people’s immaturity. But you just shrugged your shoulders, telling him that you were going to live your bisexual life freely.

“What’d you do this weekend?” You asked, putting an end to your story as you felt like you were talking about yourself too much.

“Oh, I, uh…had a couple of days off from the shop and I had an audition,” he said with a humble smile. Your eyes widened, jaw dropping.

“Harry!”

“What?” He asked obliviously.

“Oh, I don’t know--you just casually mention that you had an audition,” you said sarcastically; a chuckle from Harry was heard. “That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you,” you beamed at him, feeling so happy for him as he maintained his composure and tried not to get too excited.

“Thank you. I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but it was such a thrill being in front of the producers,” he said, proceeding to tell you the entire story. He felt giddy telling someone other than Mikey or Daren, and he definitely felt your energy, telling him that you were just as excited for him as well.

“Harry, that’s truly so great. They would be missing out if they don’t pick you.”

“Thanks, sweet girl.” The name had slipped out. It came out naturally, but he closed his mouth immediately, not knowing if that crossed the line since he used that pet name in bed.

“I’ve missed hearing that name,” you told him honestly, and he calmed down a bit, smirking at you.

The night was going by quicker than you intended as you hung out with Harry starting around 1 p.m, and now it was nearing 4.

As much as you wanted to continue hanging out with him, you still wanted to have some alone time with yourself since it was rare that you would have the house to yourself. Besides, like he said, it wasn’t the last time you would be seeing each other.

“I should probably get going,” you say, a sad tone behind your words.

“Yeah, okay, sure. Let me just grab the check,” he turned around to find the waitress that served you both.

“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, beginning to reach into your purse for your wallet.

“It’s okay. Let me; I just got paid. And besides, I was the one who picked the milkshake flavor, so let me pay for it,” he smiled at you, making you blush. “Next time, you’ll pick the flavor, and maybe you can pay if you want to next time.” You only nodded, smiling as you watched him just walk up to your waitress and pay for your meals.

Once he paid, you two walked out the diner; the summer sun was still bright outside, making it seem like it was still early in the day. You walked over to the driver side as Harry stayed still in front of the restaurant.

“I’ll see you soon, maybe? Drive safe,” he said, waving at you.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, I was gonna catch the railway.” he said shyly, and you chuckled, thinking you were probably crazy if you were going to leave him out here.

“You know you’re too kind for the world, and don’t need to get all shy on me. It’s just me—you’re comfortable with me?” You asked, wanting to make sure he felt comfortable with you no matter what.

“Yeah, of course-”

“Then hop in. I don’t bite, that is, only if you want me to,” you smirked, starting your car and putting on your sunglasses. He absolutely loved when you wore your sunnies; you had a different pair on than when he first met you. Today’s sunnies were pink circular glasses; the lens was see through as he saw your eyes, thinking you look absolutely stylish and all kinds of adorable.

“I live in West Hollywood,” he said suddenly, feeling a bit anxious for you to see the neighborhood he lives in because he knows that it’s nothing compared to where you probably live.

“Okay, that’s on the way to where I live anyways. Just lead the way,” you quickly glanced at him, giving him a smile before turning your head back to the road. You sensed his anxiousness as you did when you first met him; and you thought that it was simply his personality—he was a shy guy in general. That’s why you wanted to make sure he was comfortable around you, and not push his limits.

After a few directions from Harry, making a left here and making a right there, you made it in front of his apartment building. It obviously wasn’t a neighborhood you were used to, but you didn’t mind it nor were you going to judge it. It was Harry’s home, and as long as it makes him safe, then everything was fine.

Harry waited a few seconds, not immediately getting out of the car, before turning towards you as you turned your car off. “I had a really nice time tonight,”

“Me too. I’m glad we were able to go out. Until the next one?” You subtly slipped in, in case he had forgotten, or to see if he wasn’t joking when he said ‘next time’ at the diner.

“Of course. I’ll see you then,” he gave you one last smile before getting out of your car.

“Harry…” you called out just like the last time you had dropped him off. He once again turned around, leaning his forearms on the top of the door and bent down.

“Yes?”

You unclicked your seatbelt, making your way towards the passenger side as you kneel on the seat. You reached your hand to place your palm against his right cheek, feeling his stubbled skin.

“Thank you for today, and for lunch. I mean it when I said I had a really great time.” Your face was inches away from him, and Harry was starting to get very antsy; wanting to kiss you so bad as your lips were so close but so far from his.

“The pleasure is all mine. I’ll see you next time, sweet girl,” he said. He noticed how much you really like being called that because every time he does, a blushy smile appears on your face, and he would make sure to always call you ‘sweet girl’ to see that kind of smile from you all the time.

His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips as it was painted in a bit of lip gloss. He also noticed how your attention was on his lips as well. And before he could ask you if he could kiss you, you had leaned your head into his left cheek, planting a kiss to his skin.

It wasn’t anywhere on his lips, but it was sweet and soft; a sweet innocent kiss that he would always remember and and he was sure he would giddily scream once he got back to his apartment.

“Have a good night, honey,” you said as you pulled away. Harry’s heart immediately swooned at the second time you called him honey.

“Honey?” He said as it came out as a pleasant surprise. You say back down in your seat, blushing.

“Yeah, is it too cheesy?”

“No, no! I really like it,” he smiled, dimples showing off.

“Good.”

“Great.”

You two stared at each other, smiling like idiots as neither one of you wanted to leave. But you two broke eye contact due to the car alarm that startled you both, but both looking back at each other as you two giggled.

“Bye—for the millionth time,” you said as you started your car, putting the gear into drive.

“See ya, sweet girl,” he bid you goodbye as he gave you one last wave and watched you drive away.

As he walked up the stairs to his front door, he thought of how the day had been really good and how much he had fun; anticipating the next time he gets to see you again.

one of my favorite chapters! BE PROUD OF WHO YOU ARE. YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL AND VALID.

next chapter will be posted on September 4! LETS CHAT IN MY INBOX!

taglist babies: @froggystyles @outofsstyles @whoschantel @4592222 @groovybaybee @bfharry @wellbafineline @tfonty @bfilipa52 @afire-hes @thorsangel @brrilliant-harry @apples2019 @bbymichelleee @harrys-cherrry @ggaayyyong @heslilac @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @sozvuchiy @mellamolayla

#cloud nine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles ff #1d ff #boyfriend!harry #bestfriend!harry #actor!harry #harry styles concept #harry styles #harry #hs

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chaotically-cas · 3 years

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29 Things I Think Allistic People Need To Hear

From an autistic person

Not my usual content but I felt it needed to be said.

Saying “everyone is a little autistic” is really hurtful. Yes, everyone has their struggles but these struggles are far different for autistic people. Saying everyone experiences it is invalidating & harmful.

Being graded on eye contact & standing still is wrong. I’m pretty sure at one point or another we’ve had a project we were graded on & one of the grades was eye contact & not fidgeting. These things are extremely hard for autistic people & they are practically second nature. It’s like holding in a sneeze.

Stim & figget toys in schools. Of course fidget spinner’s & stim cubes can be bought & should be bought by anyone. If you want one, get one. But the way schools are banning them is crazy. They are very necessary for autistic people & it’s so much harder for them when schools ban their use.

QUITTTTT BABYING US!! We aren’t ‘uwu babies’. We are humans. We are perfectly capable of functioning without allistic people’s pity & looking down on us. We are our own people that don’t need a hand to hold in every damn situation. We aren’t cute because of it.

Listen to autistic people. Everyone is all for advocating for people until that group of people want to advocate for themselves. So shut up & listen once & maybe you can learn something you didn’t know.

Creative writing in class is difficult. You don’t know how many bad grades I’ve gotten on because I can’t think of a good story out of my ass. It’s extremely hard for autistic people. Please give us a prompt it’s more helpful than you know.

Role playing in class. I think we’ve all had to do something where we research a famous person & have to assume their identity. This is again, so hard for autistic people. It’s hard enough for us to be ourselves. Most of us can’t understand these actives enough.

Slurs. Quit saying retard. It’s not an insult. It’s not funny. It’s offensive & every time you use it you’re hurting a disabled person & spreading harmful stereotypes. It’s not just a word. It’s not just a bad word. It’s a slur. Same as the f word or any other slur. Don’t use it.

People talking over us. No I dont mean just in conversations. Although that is another issue. I mean organizations like autism speaks that put words into autistic peoples mouths instead of letting them speak for themselves.

Stop making fun of our special interests. Whether you find anime cringey or think an adult loving Aladdin is childish just stop it. These things being extreme joy to us. They make us happy in a word that we don’t understand. So just leave us alone & let us be happy.

Don’t stare at us if we’re stimming. Especially in public. If you see me flapping my hands. Don’t stare. If you hear me humming quietly, don’t judge. These activities aren’t for your viewing pleasure. They’re for autistic people to regulate & express how they’re feeling.

Normalizing ableism. It’s so normalized. Whether it’s phrased like “suffers from autism” or how regularly ‘retard’ is used in classe; ableism is so often over looked especially by adults. There are no many micro aggressions they are just passed off as us not having a thick enough skin. When in reality it’s really damaging.

People first language. If you ever correct someone by saying “no, they’re a PERSON with autism. Not an autistic person”. Literally shut up. We’re autistic. We’re people. Being autistic doesn’t make us any less human so you don’t need to make it seem like it does. We’re still human no matter our disably. People don’t have to be reminded of this.

Using words like psychopath & sociopath. Calling autistic people these things just because you don’t understand us is disgusting. If you don’t understand these terms don’t use them. Just because we aren’t good at showing empathy in some cases doesn’t make us ‘psychopaths’.

Tone indicators. This is both the over use & not using them that’s an issue. Saying things like “/j /hj /sarcasm /srs /lh” all in one post defeats the whole damn purpose of them. & not using any at all especially when joking around or using sarcasm can lead to a lot of misunderstanding. It’s not that hard to use one or two at the end of a post. /srs

Picky eating. Literally stop making fun of autistic people for not liking a lot of foods or ordering the same thing at every restaurant. A lot of textures & flavors are very bothersome to autistic people. They can cause overstimulation or even panic. Just let us be. So I eat mac & cheese 4 times a week. I didn’t know it effected you so much.

“Ugh you’re so annoying you can’t ever get a joke”. No hearing that is what’s annoying. Tones are hard for us to understand so while most people pick up on it autistic people are more likely to read too much into it or take it seriously. It’s simple to use tone indicators in text or even to say “I’m joking”. It won’t make your joke less funny. It’ll just help us understand more.

Be specific if you want things from us. Don’t just say “hey I need a pencil”. Or “the dishwasher needs put away”. Most likely we’ll just be like, yeah, ok, and? Be specific please. Say things like “can I borrow a pencil?” or “can you undo the dishwasher?”.

Faces seeming to look weird. A lot of us having facial stims that can alter our faces. Whether it’s excessive blinking, eyebrow raising, or face scrunches. Don’t ask us what’s wrong with our face or what we are doing. For me, because of my facial stims & tics my eyes/eyebrows are permanently uneven. Don’t bring it up.

Classroom behavior charts are horrible. Autistic people don’t behave the same as allistic people. Simple as that. What they see as ok behavior, others don’t. & some times they don’t realize these behaviors will get them in trouble.

Police brutality. Especially in black or brown autistic people. It’s so common that people call the police on autistic people stimming in public because they are seen as dangerous. & when these autistic people can’t understand what’s going on or can’t make eye contact they are labeled as more suspicious. Especially black autistic people. Just look at Elijah McLean.

Feeling dumb. Especially in schools or other scholarly conversations. Some autistic people aren’t able to keep up or fully understand everything that’s being said or presented. Which leads to us feeling dumb. Give us time to process or aso questions please.

Feeling robotic. You’ve most likely heard autistic people being compared to robots at one point or another. Whether that’s for the impaired ability to establish empathy or something else it’s an extremely negative & hurtful stereotype. Especially in media.

Saying ‘I forgot’ is a valid excuse. There is so much going on in our heads. So much to process & remember. We forget things. Everyone forgets things. Especially autistic people. Please don’t yell at us for always forgetting to do the dishes. It’s not like we chose to forget.

The harmful effects of the vaccines cause autism jokes. Aside from the whole anti vaxers debate, perpetually the idea that we shouldn’t be vaccinated because it causes autism is disgusting. It’s treating autism like a disease. Like the person who has it isn’t worthy. Or that autism is so chronic it will ruin everything. It’s like people avoiding cheese burgers because it’s rumored they make you ginger. It’s preposterous.

Yelling at autistic people for struggling to want to learn new concepts/concepts at all. This not only goes for in school but in just normal conversation. It’s hard for autistic people to grasp things they don’t have an interest in learning. So please don’t yell at us for not understanding everything about a band that we don’t care about, we would if we could. It might not seem like a big issue but it happens more than you’d think.

Intrusive thoughts. (Tw: rape mention & violence) Most of the time autistic people experience extreme spells of intrusive thoughts “omg he’s going to rape you image him raping you” or “stab yourself in the side right now” or much worse. & when autistic (and other) people try to talk about it they are labeled crazy or insane. It’s a normal occurrence to have these kinds of thoughts. We don’t want to. But they happen. That’s why they’re called intrusive.

Executive disfunction. This is basically when autistic people are views as lazy but we physically & mentally just can’t. Where tasks as seemingly simple as going to get a glass of water feels like a mountain to autistic people. It’s not that we are lazy. We physically & mentally can’t work up to it.

Class rank & graduation requirements are unfair. Autistic people socialize differently. It’s just a fact. Our brains work differently in classes & outside of it. We could be working our asses off to understand our English class book, but we get an F. Not to mention how most schools require community service hours to graduate. Yes community service is good but it can be very hard for autistic people.

Please feel free to add on but a lot of these are drawn from personal frustrations. Please listen to autistic & other disabled people more. All these also applies to those with ADHD/ADD or any other mental illness where the situations apply. You’re all valid & amazing.

I love you all. 💕

#autistic #actually autistic #autism psa #listen to autistic people #rant #the outsiders

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scarfdyedshadow · 4 years

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On the Decline of Mage Characterization in Ancillary Type-Moon Works (or On Magi Getting Flanderized Into One-Dimensional Evil Arrogant Sods) Part 1: The Matter of Magi Themselves

Yes, I am dumb enough and obsessed enough to basically write an entire essay on this. Yes, the title is pretentious as all hell.

A disclaimer before we start though, this is not directed at or meant to condemn or call out or mock or invalidate the many a Tumblr shitpost on evil arrogant magi getting owned by Guda or various other characters. It may not be humor personally up my alley, but I understand the appeal, and it’s not like there isn’t some grain of truth to them. Likewise this isn’t meant to in any way condone anything Nasuverse magi. A fair amount of them are evil regardless of mitigating circumstances, a lot of the ones that aren’t outright evil have capacity to be evil because of ethos and mindset, and the acts they commit are certainly evil. I am not condoning them, or dismissing them as not evil. I simply urge a more nuanced rather than simplistic analysis of that evil. This also unfortunately omits Mahoyo, which probably has quite a bit of insight, because I haven’t gotten around to reading it yet, thus rendering me a fake fan you should not listen to. Thank you for your consideration. Also, spoilers.

This first part is primarily concerned with the inhumanity of magi and misconceptions about magi and their ethos as a whole, while the next part will actually go into the history of magus villains in Type-Moon works and what I feel is their decline, and build upon and further points of this part. There may be a potential third part on the Crypters, Gordolf, and Olga, the modern faces of Nasuverse magi and the greatest illustration that magi are far more nuanced, complex, pitiful and yet admirable, than they aren’t, and Nasu’s thesis statement on the power of love and life.

(Note: Okay my theme is actually pretty eyesearing to the point I recommend you read this on dash, I’ll go get it fixed)

"Do you know what it is that magi are aiming for?"

After a moment of blankness, Gray replied with a difficult expression.

"Umm...I heard about it in class. What was it...the Spiral of Origin?"

"Right. The Spiral of Origin, or more simply the Root. Sometimes it's referred to as「」, the thing for which there can be no reference. It is the source of everything, the 'zero' from which all matter and phenomena flow. Ah, but now that I'm trying to put it into words, I'm realizing that's not a good idea. After all, even the idea of 'zero' has baggage that makes it unsuitable as a comparison."

"Regardless, the goal of magi is to eventually reach that place. Of course, there are also those who simply derive pleasure from touching the supernatural, or from being superhuman. Because we are weak, we fall to that diversion. But in the end, that's not our ultimate goal."

For modern magi, most understood that reaching the root was something that just wasn't possible for them. After all, even though magecraft itself had been in a state of continuing decline since the Age of Gods, there were no reports of anyone facing that past and trying to return to it. Likely, the appearance in the Far East of the fifth - and often called the last - Magician was the same as the gate to the Root being all but closed to everyone else.

Even so, we didn't give up.

Anyone who would give up in a situation like this would never have become a magus to begin with.

Ironically enough, despite opening up with a quote from Lord El-Melloi II Case Files, which I’ll have some critique for, the crux of my thesis is this. As originally presented in Kara no Kyoukai, and generally only kept up to a meaningful degree in other Nasu written works like Stay Night, Clock Tower 2015, and Grand Order, magi were the piteous, tragic, inhuman not as in inhumane but as in a broken machine product of an impossible ideal and a broken system. They were the villains, yes, unambiguously so, but at the same time they were sympathetic and nuanced to an extent that would decline down the road.

You see, Araya. A mage always lives hurriedly. What for? If it was for themselves alone they wouldn't bother with the outside world. So why do they intrude upon the rest of the world? Why do they rely upon it? What will they achieve with that power? What will they save with the Ars Magna (Ars Magna: Meaning 'great secret technique', it stands not for a technique that is not learnt through study but for a mystery that is secretly passed down)? If that was the case it would have been better for them to become a king instead of a mage.

You think people live foully, but you yourself would not be able to live like that. You would not be able to live while accepting the fact that you know that everything is worthless and base. You would not be able to live without the pride of knowing that you alone are special, and that you alone can save this crumbling world. Of course, I was like that too. But that sort of thing has no meaning. --- Accept it, Araya. We chose the path of transcendence called magecraft because we are weaker than everybody else.

Magi were presented as absurd, as farcical, as maddeningly helpless and hopeless compared to those living normal lives. This will come up in Part 2, especially as pertains to Touko and Gordolf and the like, but normal everyday life, not superior thematic superpowers or an army of Servants, is what is truly far more powerful than any magi.

"... I'll just ask one thing. What do you mean when you say that secrets are kept even within that Association?"

Unexpectedly, I hear something from the sofa.

Over there is Shiki, who has been sitting there since before without a word. She's the type of person who doesn't get involved in a conversation that she's not interested in, so until now she had been staring at the scenery outside the window.

"--- There is that. A mage won't reveal the results of his experiments even within the Association. What the person next to them is researching, what their goals are, and what they have obtained are all a mystery. The only time a mage will reveal the results of their work is when they are passing it on to their descendants just before they die."

"Studying for their benefit alone, yet not using that power for their own sake? What purpose is there in a life like that, Touko? Is it that the goal is to learn, and the process is to learn too? If the only things you have are the beginning and the end, that's the same as having a zero."

Their pursuit for the truth is maddening. It is greedy yet at once devoid of greed. It is selfish yet at once devoid of selfishness. Their ethos and methodology are not fundamentally inhumane, but inhuman. Magi are an odd sort of creature indeed, and it isn’t the case that they’re all evil in their absurd quest. Indeed, virtually all early Nasuverse ancillary material, and this is still said today despite the opposite being true in practice, is that the vast majority of magi are shut ins who stay inside researching as opposed to eating babies.

The everyday life of a magus is mostly spent conducting research. Magi who use magic outside of a research capacity, such as those who use magi to work and profit for themselves, are few in number. People who treat magic as a tool, such as assassins, are called “spellcasters”, and are looked down upon with disdain by the magical establishment.

Furthermore, it is precisely because they are magi that few magi use magic in their daily lives.

Practically speaking, for every mage you see committing mass murder or fighting the mass murdering mage with superpowers, there are ten who we certainly can’t call conventionally moral, who we certainly can’t call normal humans, obsessively striving towards a seemingly impossible goal inhumanly but not inhumanely. Because Type-Moon does action series this has never been tenable to properly depict besides the minority, but it is the truth regardless. This is from a later work I actually have some measure of criticism for, but Strange Fake actually illustrates that point perfectly.

"A mage's mage," he muttered disgustedly to himself, eyes narrowed, "is no different from a hard-working corrupt politician." What about me? He wondered as soon as the words were out of his mouth. As long as corruption stayed hidden, it was difficult for the public to tell the difference between a corrupt politician and an honest one. In which case, mages, who never entered the public eye to begin with, probably ought to be lumped in with them. There were exceptions, but from the standpoint of the general public, mages were generally evil.

Other Nasu written works like Stay Night and Clock Tower 2015 also touch upon it.

Magic is just what it sounds like… magic. I don't care if you get ideas like abracadabra or whatever. You can just think of us as people who do strange things by casting spells. Oh, though it's not like we fly around on brooms or make stars appear with a wave of a wand. …Well, we could do that, but we don't bother as it's kind of meaningless. We're basically heretics who hide ourselves from the world. We're prohibited from standing out and even if we weren't, we would rather be at home studying magic.

Clock Tower 2015 especially hits it up by depicting what might be called the ideal magus, the point of being a magus that is often distorted by human concerns but that all of them are to some extent, not an inhumane monster but an inhuman man who has dedicated his life to magecraft.

"Ahhh, the life of a magus is so brief. It would have been great if I were born with just the brain and nothing else." Like what you just saw, Leiv was a pure academic magus. All his efforts were poured solely into his theory and magecraft. He cared naught of any other responsibilities, the application of his magecraft, his lineage, or building his faction. From Leiv's perspective, those magi were the same as the plebians that were "normal people". If one were to decipher the mystical, then he must sacrifice his humanity. A magus was a creature with nothing but magecraft on his mind. There was no room for burdens such as "life".

So to begin with, what we call magi are far from all arrogant murderous sods, and if anything arrogant murderous sods are the minority. They come in all manner of varieties, united simply by the pursuit of the impossible, by the desire to reach the truth, by the desire to transcend. Even more so than just that, they do have their values and ethics. They are often cruelly distorted, to the extent “magi parents” is a phrase that might as well be an oxymoron, but I would opine that as a product more of recent years than anything.

"Keep those for me. They are some awful cigarettes from Taiwan but I only have those now. Of course there isn't any company that made them, it's a famous item that some eccentric master made only one box of. Yeah, out of all my possessions that is the second most valuable thing I have." Leaving behind some strange words, she turned around and walked out. ... Perhaps her most valuable possession is herself, that kind of thought popped into my mind so I asked her, but she only turned back her head and answered. "That's rather rude. I know it's me but even I don't treat people like possessions." Like herself when she has her glasses on, she pouts as if she's sulking. And then, returning to her usual cool expression Touko-san continued talking. "Kokuto. Those people called mages, with an apprentice or other people they are close to they feel like parents. Since they are something like their offspring, they often fight desperately to protect them as well. ... Well, it's like that so relax and wait here. I'll bring Shiki back tonight." Thock thock, the sound of her walking away. Unable to say anything to her back, I let the brown-coated magician go.

That magi value their children, their apprentices, their legacies, even if only as a next step on the path to the Root, is also a truth echoed at the same time that it’s often contradicted. But then, magi are in of themselves contradictory creatures. After all, despite pursuing an inhuman ideal, despite throwing away their humanity, they themselves are still human. That contradiction between reality and ideals, best exemplified by Fate/Stay Night, is one of the themes at the heart of Nasu’s work.

So, to repeat it once more, magi as a whole, magi society as a whole, is not fundamentally inhumane but inhuman. That inhumanity often lends itself to the inhumane, but not necessarily, and indeed I opine that should be considered on a deeper level. That inhuman society is by no means a good thing, but to simply call it evil and magi evil and call it a day is to do a disservice to its nuance. There are arrogant murderous magi as well, sure, but they too are products of a tenacious ideal, they are the long shadow cast by lineages stretching for thousands of years.

In reality, what really forged the magus of the modern day was not a supernatural power or transcendent conscience, but a tenacity built and reinforced over generations. Clinging to a shadowed, intense ideology for hundreds, or in some cases even thousands of years, developed its own sort of extreme power. Even if science were to exceed magecraft in all other respects, as long as that ideal survived, magecraft itself would be ineradicable.

But what then of Souren Araya? What of that bastard Zouken and worst dad of the year Tokiomi and that arrogant asshole Kayneth? Rest well assured that I will cover them in exacting detail in the next part of whatever the hell this is, and everything I say about them will build upon this. That may seem contradictory, since this part is mostly devoted to showing that magi are far more than just evil sods, but believe it or not Kayneth is going to be mightily relevant to how pitifully weak magi in truth are, and Tokiomi is going to be relevant to how magi value their children in ways that don’t have to be inhumane, but can be inhuman. Until next time, all I can ask is to consider that while magi are indeed monsters, monsters really can be quite interesting creatures.

Things in this world were all like that.

It wasn’t limited to magecraft. It wasn’t limited to those beyond humans (monsters). In a world of common sense (the obvious), it was something everyone understood.

If you said that misunderstandings, miscommunications, disagreements, and false understandings are what connected them, then...

“We are misrecognition. Our world itself is misunderstanding. We can experience a multitude of truths, not just one single reality. No matter how wise you are, or how much time you are given, you will never reach something like a single truth. Magi may just be those who continually reject that fact.”

Speaking as if in self-deprecation, my master had pursed his lips at that.

He had finally realized that his words and the objective that all Magi pursued, known as the “Spiral of Origin,” were in contradiction.

Sources: Lord El-Melloi Case Files (TL by TwilightsCall), Kara no Kyoukai (TL on baka-tsuki), Fate/Stay Night (TL Mirror Moon), Clock Tower 2015 (TL by food), Fate/Strange Fake (TL by OtherSideOfSky)

#type-moon #fate series #fate grand order #fgo #fate stay night #kara no kyoukai #knk #fsn #fate meta #magecraft #lord el-melloi ii case files #case files #garden of sinners

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th3atr3phant0m · 4 years

Text

Gender

Perhaps Zim was just missing out on something, but he really didn’t understand why some of their peers treated DIb in the way that they did.

Of course, part of that could have to do with the fact that Zim hadn’t transferred into their school district until a few years ago and hadn’t known everyone there as they knew one another, but that didn’t make things any clearer, in his eyes.

Zim was no stranger to the cruelty of his fellow humans. He had learned a great deal about how people worked and the terror that came with them when he lived in the orphanage, so seeing people treat Dib like garbage wasn’t inherently strange but the way in which they did it certainly was.

Their peers almost constantly belittled Dib for his intense passion for the paranormal and extraterrestrial. Ever since he was a child, he had been incredibly interested in both of them, and that interest had only grown as he did. He put forth seemingly endless amounts of his time and energy into studying his passions. Honestly, Zim found it admirable. Unfortunately, though, many of their peers didn’t feel the same way, claiming that he was obsessed and insane. Considering how frequently Dib ranted about the paranormal and the intensity with which he did it, Zim could understand that, though.

What didn’t make sense to him were the strange things that they said to Dib in regard to his gender.

On more than one occasion, Zim had heard their fellow students refer to Dib as a girl or tell him that he looked or sounded feminine in some way or another. Zim couldn’t understand why. It was very clear to him and anyone who attended school with them that Dib was a guy. It wasn’t just the fact that he wore masculine or androgynous clothes- any idiot knew that clothes didn’t really mean anything- but the fact that Dib exclusively responded to male pronouns. It was obvious that Dib wasn’t a girl and that he wasn’t comfortable with being addressed as such, so why did so many of their peers do so? Even people as ignorant as some of them were had to pick up on the fact that Dib was a man- or so Zim thought. Clearly, he was giving them far too much credit, though.

Sometimes, when Dib got irritated with others, they would make some idiotic comment about him being on his period or something along those lines. It always just worked to piss him off further, but it upset him in a completely different way than their comments about him being a freak did.

Despite the fact that Dib looked incredibly masculine, their peers would frequently tease him about how feminine he looked or acted, invalidating his masculinity almost as an easy insult to fall back on. It was clear that their words had more to do with getting a rise out of Dib than having any actual truth to it, but that didn’t make it any less nonsensical.

Zim had no clue why their peers made those comments towards Dib, nor why they upset him so much. The two of them were far from being friends- Zim would even say that they were enemies, in some ways- but he wasn’t cruel enough to stoop to that level. While he didn’t’ completely understand why that was a sore spot for him, he never harassed him about it like the others sometimes did. It felt wrong in several ways- not to mention the fact that it was a pathetic move.

Not understanding what it was that he was missing out on and wanting some answers, Zim decided to ask Dib about it.

~~~

Dib and Zim were not friends. They fought almost constantly, practically at war in several aspects. They always did everything in their power to beat the other at every turn, refusing to allow the other to have a single success without putting up a fight. They battled for the title of valedictorian, for the highest grade on each assignment, for the most clever and creative insults and comebacks to said insults, and for the best ideas. To the untrained eye, it seemed as though they hated one another with every fibre of their beings.

That didn’t mean that Dib didn’t pick up on things about the other, though. In fact, in many ways, it made him more attentive to changes in Zim than he was to changes in anyone else. Considering how much of his energy and attention Zim had, it only made sense for Dib to notice things.

They were small day-to-day changes, but, considering Dib’s own history, he couldn’t help but pick up on them.

Zim’s style, though very consistently inconsistent and a chaotic mix of anything and everything he liked- something that Dib couldn’t help but admire at least a little but- seemed to change near daily. One day, he would wear a button-down shirt with a clashing vest and the next day he would wear a dress with fishnet stockings underneath. Zim’s style seemed to vary between feminine, masculine, and androgynous regardless of whether he was wearing something formal or casual.

As someone who had gone through the festive experience of attempting to “subtly” switch between masculine and feminine while figuring out how to comfortably express his gender without getting harassed, Dib couldn’t help to liken it to his own experience. While Zim hadn’t gone to their school when Dib was first beginning to realize and attempt to express his gender, the practice of putting forth a lot of effort into presenting a certain gender for a few days before deciding that was too emotionally taxing and giving up for a few days was… familiar. While DIb couldn’t be certain that Zim was doing what Dib had been doing back then, it was incredibly similar, and he couldn’t help but liken the experiences to one another.

It wasn’t an incredibly strange thing- it wasn’t as though Zim acted or spoke any differently depending on the day- but it was something that had Dib curious. Was Zim transgender as well and struggling with coming out? Was he just experimenting with different styles? Was he just being the weird, chaotic person that he was by keeping his style and presentation up in the air?

Whatever it was, Dib wanted to know, but he didn’t exactly have the opportunity to ask.

That is, until Zim brought something up one day at lunch.

“Why is it that our peers sometimes refer to you as a girl?”

Dib nearly choked on the juice he was drinking, “What-?”

“Why is it that-”

“No, I heard you the first time,” Dib shook his head, clearing his throat. He really wasn’t expecting that question- especially so abruptly- and he didn’t really know how to answer it. “Because people are assholes?”

“Obviously,” Zim rolled his eyes disdainfully, though Dib had a feeling that was directed towards their peers rather than him, “Is there a specific reason, though?”

Zim hadn’t been going to school with them when Dib had still been presenting as female or even when he first came out as trans, but he still assumed that Zim just… knew . Considering everything that his peers did and said to him, he assumed that it was obvious that he wasn’t biologically male. According to them, he didn’t pass very well. Did Zim just not understand the concept of transphobia, or did he genuinely just… not know ? Neither seemed likely, all things considered.

Not completely trusting that Zim wasn’t just dicking with him, Dib narrowed his eyes slightly, “Because I’m trans.”

Zim blinked, seemingly taken aback, before some sort of realization began to dawn on him, “Oooh. So you are a trans woman? Then why does it bother you when-?”

“I- no,” Dib face-palmed, “I’m a transgender guy . I’m a man and they’re going out of their way to misgender me to piss me off.”

Zim’s expression changed completely, anger replacing the confusion, “What the fuck is wrong with people? That’s pathetic.”

Zim wasn’t naive- he knew just as well as Dib that people could be absolute assholes and that they didn’t always need to be provoked to do so. He wasn’t a stranger to harassment from their peers, either, and, considering the fact that they weren’t friends , Dib didn’t completely understand why Zim seemed to care. Regardless, it was nice that at least someone didn’t think what they were doing was okay.

Dib propped his chin up against the palm of his hand, “What about you?”

“Eh?”

“Do people ever go out of their way to do that shit to you when you wear dresses and stuff?”

“Misgender me, you mean?”

Dib nodded.

“Not the same way that they do with you.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“Well, when they call me “he” on my femme days, it’s not because they’re trying to be cruel. It’s usually when they actually call me the correct pronouns that they’re intentions are shit.”

“Femme days?” Dib echoed, thinking, “You’re gender-fluid?”

“Was that not obvious?”

“Was it not obvious that I was a trans dude?”

“No, actually.”

Dib blinked, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Zim tilted his head to the side, “You know that when people say those things to you, they’re just trying to upset you, right? None of it is true. You look like a normal guy- well, normal for you .”

Dib rolled his eyes at the insult, but he didn’t take it to heart- he never really did when Zim insulted him. At this point, they had lost their bite. He was more focused on the other things that Zim had said, “Thanks.”

Zim seemed to think for a moment before speaking again, “Do you think that I pass well?”

“Assuming I’m actually guessing which days are which for you? Yeah.” Dib leaned back in his seat, “You’re pretty androgynous already, so you can pull off any look, to be honest.” As much as Dib loathed the concept of complimenting his enemy, they were having a peaceful conversation for the first time in a while and Zim had shown him some kindness as well, so it didn’t feel too strange to say it.

Zim nodded but said nothing and they soon lapsed into a comfortable silence.

After everything that he heard from the others they went to school with, it was nice to hear from a few people that Dib looked like a guy. He couldn’t help but feel a little more comfortable now that he knew this about Zim- as though knowing made sharing his own truth with Zim slightly less vulnerable. Somehow, Zim understanding in his own way made it less awkward. It was nice to have someone in their school who understood- it was nice to have something in common with Zim.

~~~

A few weeks had passed since Dib and Zim had discussed their genders and nothing much had changed. One thing that Dib had noticed was that their peers began to mock and misgender Dib less than usual and it was obvious that this was no mere coincidence.

While it wasn’t obvious to Dib immediately, it soon became clear to him that Zim was actually defending him when people attempted to harass him about being trans.

Initially, Dib had no proof that this was actually happening. It was just a theory of his that Zim had been stepping in when the situations arose, but there were a few things that happened here and there and bits and pieces of conversations that he picked up that made him feel fairly confident that his suspicions were correct.

Dib’s hypothesis was finally confirmed weeks later in one of his classes.

Nothing too out of the ordinary happened. Jessica had gone out of her way to misgender Dib on more than one occasion in the past. Regardless of that, hearing her refer to him as a “she” in front of the entire class and being met with snickers from their peers made his stomach twist with anger and distaste. No matter how many times it had happened, it still hurt.

Dib had never been one to stay quiet about something important to him- hell, he had openly yelled about the paranormal in the middle of class several times when they were back in middle school- but before he could say anything, Zim cut in.

“It’s he , actually, and if you had more than half a brain cell, you would know that.”

Dib blinked, taken aback, and so did Jessica- though he was certain they had completely different reasons for doing so.

Jessica turned on Zim immediately, fixing him with a glare, “What did you just say?”

Zim leaned in and narrowed his eyes as well, not at all deterred by her attempted threat, “I said Dib is a he and, if you had-”

“I heard you the first time.”

“Oh, really? I couldn’t tell,” Zim tilted his head, “Your expression is so constantly vacant that it’s almost impossible to tell when anything actually gets through your thick skull.”

Just as Jessica’s boyfriend stood up from his seat to intervene- almost definitely violently- Ms. Bitters cut in, “That’s enough! Everyone sit down and be quiet.”

Both Jessica and her boyfriend shot Zim glares but did as told. Zim just smirked, satisfied with how things had turned out.

Dib couldn’t help but gape at the entire scene before him. Zim- his rival and archenemy- had just stood up for him publicly . While Dib had had a hunch that Zim had been trying to help somehow, he hadn’t expected to see such an open expression of it- especially not against one of the more popular and easily agitated people they went to school with. Dib was genuinely surprised.

When Zim caught his gaze, he gave Dib a pleased, somewhat smug grin- probably at least a little proud of himself for shocking Dib so genuinely. Dib could practically hear Zim teasing him about the “stupid look” on his face.

Dib rolled his eyes, trying to seem nonchalant. It was hard to pretend that what happened hadn’t been a big deal, though, when the warmth spreading through Dib’s chest was so pleasant and prominant.

~~~

Zim hadn’t expected Dib’s reaction to seeing him correct Jessica in front of their class, but he would be lying if he said that the look on Dib’s face didn’t make him happy. There was something about bringing Dib joy that made Zim feel good as well, regardless of their stance as foes… plus the stupid look on Dib’s face was perfect .

That wasn’t the only thing that Zim hadn’t anticipated coming out of the situation, though.

A few days after the incident with Jessica, Zim twisted in the correct combination for his locker to gather some of the books he would need for his next class. When he did so, though, he was met with something that hadn’t been there the previous day.

Sitting atop his other belongings was an envelope labelled with his name on the front. There was a small bulge in the package, showing that there was something more than just a note hidden within the crumpled paper.

Raising an eyebrow curiously, Zim picked up the envelope, books forgotten.

He peeled back the seal before shaking the contents out into his hands. The colourful beads that tumbled from the paper almost slipped through Zim’s fingers and clattered to the ground, but he managed to catch them to avoid that disaster. Alongside them was a small slip of paper.

Setting aside the note and the envelope, Zim unclenched his fist, revealing the beads so he could take a closer look at them.

They were not, in fact, loose beads. Instead, they were three different bracelets, each made of differently coloured glass and stone beads with a single silver bead on each of them. One bracelet was fuchsia and rose quartz with a silver space ship on it, another made of amethyst and violet stones with a single rocket bead, and the last a bright mix of chartreuse and emerald beads with an alien charm.

Zim blinked, holding them up to the light so he could get a better look at them. The glass beads shone pleasantly and the silver charms on each one shimmered happily. He couldn’t deny that they were beautifully crafted.

After a moment of examining and admiring them, Zim turned his attention back to the slip of paper that had accompanied the pieces of jewellery within the envelope.

Hey, Space Boy. I saw something online about some gender-fluid people wear different bracelets corresponding to what pronouns they want people to use for them on certain days and I thought these could be helpful for you. I wasn’t sure what colours to use, but you wear pink, purple, and green a lot, so I figured they would be a safe bet. If you want to use them, tell me which ones correspond to which pronouns or whatever so I get it right.

- D.M.

Zim couldn’t help but grin. He’d thought about doing something similar in the past, but hadn’t acted on it, not really anticipating anyone actually respecting it. This gift from Dib, though, proved that at least one person would and, as ridiculous as that seemed, it brightened Zim’s day.

Smile still playing across his lips, Zim slipped on the green bracelet before carefully tucking away the other two in the front pocket of his backpack, irritation briefly dissipating at the thought that someone did care.

The beautiful cover art for this story was draw by @sams-art-shit!

I originally posted the fic here on Archive of Our Own. If you liked this, it’s part of a small series, so please check it out, if you’re interested!

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ve1vetyoongi · 4 years

Text

Operation: Love Letters | 03

💌 CHAPTER INDEX 💌

♡ ⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader.

♡ ⇢ chapter word count: 7.5k

♡ ⇢ genre: mystery, college!au, romance, fluff, eventual smut.

♡ ⇢ warnings: none.

♡ ⇢ summary: When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!

♡ ⇢ schedule: updated every day at 5pm GMT in the run up to Valentine’s Day 2020!

♡ ⇢ A/N: i’m not saying this chapter is based on something that may or may not have happened to me but...alcohol and i are no longer friends (even if it produces fantastic fic inspo LMAO). thanks for all the support on the series so far loves, hope you like chapter 3!!! <3

"I can't believe you're coming to a party Y/N! We're gonna have so much fun! Just wait until you see how fast I can chug a keg without throwing up—"

"We're not going to this party to have fun Jimin, we're undercover." Your fingers tap nervously against the steering wheel as you pull into a darkened parking lot, rolling your eyes at the high pitched whine that leaves your best friend in the passenger seat. "My secret admirer is probably inside this very party and our goal for tonight is to uncover him once and for all."

"So no alcohol?" Jimin pouts from beneath the beret perched on top of his pristinely styled hair, far too dressy for a scummy frat party.

"No alcohol."

"Okay but that doesn't explain why I'm being dragged along to this stupid thing." Yoongi's gruff voice sounds from the back as he braces himself on the front seats to butt his head into the conversation. "I should've known it was a trick when you told me we were going to get lamb skewers, your treat."

Yoongi's grumpy eyes catch yours in the rear view mirror as he slumps back into his seat with a huff. "Dude, it was the only way to get you to agree to come and we need you here so you can get us inside the party." You place an elbow on the headrest and lean in to face him, lowering your voice to a hush. "You know the password, right?"

Kim Seokjin's party's are renowned on campus for being some of the wildest and, most importantly, most exclusive events in town. Everyone within a 50 mile radius has heard the stories and the rumours about the strippers and the hookups and the alcohol — but only the most popular and elite kids could get in and see the events unfold for themselves. The key? A password, set by Seokjin himself, and right now, the single barrier between you and your potential secret admirer.

Luckily for you, your roomate just so happened to be best friends with the vice-president of Kappa Tau — Kim Taehyung — and he had a fair share of his own party stories, so you figured if anybody would be able to get you inside it had to be Yoongi.

Even beneath the shadows cascading over his face in the backseat, you see Yoongi's eyes light up. "And if I do know the password, why would I tell you?"

"Because I'm the best roommate you've ever had?" You try to blink at him in a cutesy way but being sweet was never your strong point and your features harden when Yoongi raises an eyebrow, amused by the ridiculous way you clasp your hands pleadingly. "Because I'll tell everyone about the time you got drunk and puked all over your Biology notes so you paid Kim Jongin to sit the test for you—"

"Okay, okay fine!" Yoongi grumbles, slipping out of his seatbelt and hopping out of the car with a nervous roll of his eyes. "I'll get you in. But you owe me for this, you hear me?"

A satisfied smile finds your lips as you scurry out into the night after him and Jimin practically skips to your side, linking his arm around your elbow and pulling you excitedly towards the dorm up ahead that appears to pulsate with life, the pumping bass of whatever song is playing vibrating through the soles of your high heels, causing you to sway a little as you adjust to the tempo of it.

Multicoloured lights that glow red, green and blue are strung up between the branches of the trees lining the sidewalk outside and they are the only light source surrounding the grassy lawn that inhabits a group of people dancing and drinking together outside. Despite the early state of the night, the dorm steps are already littered with a few wasted, crying girls and ragged boys lighting cigarettes as they offer them a bed to sleep in.

You shudder. Gross.

Yoongi leads you around to a back door that has been propped open haphazardly with a couple empty liquor bottles. Stood beside it are a pair of buff frat boys, too busy spraying each other with beer to guard the doors from unexpected guests, but they both straighten up and plaster feeble smiles to their faces when Yoongi coughs impatiently behind them. You suppose your roommates reputation of being...less than friendly comes in handy sometimes, huh?

"Uh, hey Yoongi." The taller one says sheepishly. "D-do you got the password—"

"Of course I do, doofus." Yoongi has to stand on his tip toes to reach the guys ear to whisper the password and you snicker, something about seeing a giant frat dude reduced to a puddle of fear when faced with your rough around the edges roommate hilarious.

The guy looks positively terrified when Yoongi leans back smugly, sending a wink in your direction that says I've got this under control and gestures for you and Jimin to enter the party, before an arm shoots out and stops you entirely. "Actually, I can't let you inside."

"What? Why?" You can't hold back your laughter now, Yoongi's face flushing a deep red as the two guys block the doorframe entirely. "I gave you the password!"

"The old password." The other dude corrects. "Sorry, but it's invalid."

"Hey, listen here moron, I'm buddies with the vice-president of Kappa and he's gonna totally kick your asses when he hears about this—"

"Yoongi? Is that you?" The two bouncers are pushed aside by a lean man with blue hair who immediately launches himself at your roommate and tackles him onto the ground in a flurry of red converse. "I never thought I'd see the day where tough guy Min Yoongi turns up to a frat party!"

Yoongi prises himself out of headlock, rubbing the back of his head and holding the blue haired man at arms length. "Nice to see you too, Taehyung." He grumbles as he's pulled to his feet, wiping grass from his black hoodie.

"Ah, so this is Taehyung?" Jimin mumbles into your ear. "You never told me he was this cute!"

"And Yoongi never told me that he had hot friends he's been hiding from me all these years." Blue hair turns and offers you and Jimin his hand, your best friend melting at his touch from behind his thick rimmed glasses. "Taehyung. Nice to meet you. Now what are you guys doing outside without any drinks?"

Bingo! Looks like you just found your ticket inside.

"Yoongi here forgot the password," You shout over the blaring music to Taehyung. "So it looks like we're just gonna have to go home. And my friend here hasn't even had one drink yet..."

You push Jimin forward with all your might, struggling not to laugh when you see how Taehyung's tipsy eyes look him up and down before they soften at the edges and he flashes him an award winning smile that has your best friends panties practically dropping.

"Well I suppose it wouldn't hurt if I just got you guys a couple drinks right? Follow me!"

With that Taehyung grabs Jimin by the elbow and pulls him behind into the dark mouth of the party and you turn to Yoongi with a sly smirk. "Looks like we didn't need you after all, Mr Min Yoongi tough guy."

Yoongi trails behind you with a pout. "Shut up. Let's just get this over with."

Bodies are pressed together like sardines in a can, pushing and gyrating against one another in time with the rhythm of the house music that is headache inducing when you get inside.

"So this is what a frat party is like?" You murmur.

Yoongi goes first, reaching behind to grasp your clammy hand and pull you forwards from the pond into the ocean. You blink, trying to make yourself as small as possible to fit through the small space Yoongi clears before you get swallowed up by the crowd. The air in here is thicker than outside and body heat radiates from the walls and just as you start to feel claustrophobic, the crowd spits you out into a kitchen.

It's only then that you register the state of the house — the kitchen is a mess. The counters are covered in half empty pizza boxes, the contents of which had somehow ended up on the walls, empty cups litter the floor and a bottle, still half full, rolls across the tile past your feet. And to make matters worse, you are pretty sure there's vomit in the sink, the sour stench mixing with the musty aroma of cheap beer.

Yup. The stories were true. Kim Seokjin sure knew how to throw a house party, huh?

Yoongi eyes you curiously. "You say that as if this is your first party." Your expression remains serious and he chokes. "Oh god. Don't tell me this is your first party, Y/N?"

You shrug. "This is my first party."

Yoongi slaps a palm to his forehead. "Fuck. You like throwing yourself in the deep end huh?"

"What do you mean?" You suddenly feel nervous, glancing around at the hoards of drunken twenty-somethings stumbling around the living room singing bad karaoke or the couples in the corner making out or the other girls on the makeshift dance floor who don't stick out like a sore thumb in the same way you do.

You wipe your palms on the black sequined crop top adorning your torso. Before you had left, you had looked in the mirror at your reflection and felt confident. Jimin had turned into a child with a Barbie doll when given the task of finding you an outfit, practically ripping everything out of your neatly organised closet and throwing indistinguishable garments at you in a frenzy. You must have tried on at least 12 different outfits before he found the "perfect" thing for you to wear.

You had to admit, the strappy top hugged your figure nicely and the sequins glittered in the light each time you moved, giving you a kind of ethereal glow. You had even spent longer than usual on your makeup, ensuring your eyes were flawlessly smoked out and the dab of deep red lip tint enhanced your lips just enough, making your face look pouty but in a way that was intentional and possibly even alluring if you squinted.

However, now as you stand paralyzed surrounded by drunk twenty somethings in a strangers kitchen your top feels suffocating, your makeup looks splotchy in places and your lips seem excessive. You strain your neck to see your reflection in the microwave, swiping your thumb across your lips to remove some of the pigment, smudging a little onto your chin and leaving you with a single, red fingertip.

"Shit. I really wasn't prepared for this huh?"

“You look fine.” Yoongi says when he notices you hugging your torso. “Nice. You look nice.”

It's only then that you realise Yoongi's hand is still wrapped around your own, as he squeezes it reassuringly and pulls you over to a quiet corner in the kitchen, awkwardly shifting and shoving his sticky hand into his pocket when he sees the funny look you send him.

"Look, Kim Seokjin's party's are not for novices. So we're gonna have to set some ground rules if you're gonna survive the night, okay?" You nod and Yoongi places his hands on your shoulders. "Rule number one, never take a drink from a stranger. Two, if someone asks you to play spin the bottle, run. Three, if the bathroom door is shut don't open it. And four, always stay close to me or Jimin, okay?"

"Jeez, okay dad." You chuckle sheepishly. "I'll be careful. I'm just here to get answers, remember?"

Yoongi eyes you carefully. "Fine. But promise you'll follow the rules—"

"Hey Y/N! I got you a drink!" Jimin bounds over to you like a Labrador puppy, thrusting a red solo cup into your hand with an elated grin. "Come on, drink up! We have a secret admirer to find!"

You see how Yoongi narrows his eyes as you lift the cup to your lips. "What? You said no drinks from strangers." In a few gulps you down the murky liquid in your cup, eyes stinging at the burn in your chest as you wipe the back of your mouth triumphantly when it earns cheers from a crowd nearby. "Let the night begin!"

"So..." Yoongi starts. "Can we leave yet?"

Almost everyone has filtered back onto the dance floor by now, leaving you and Yoongi alone on the far side of the kitchen apart from Jimin, who is busy trying to fit a whole slice of pizza in his mouth.

You lean back against the fridge as you swing your lame solo cup from your hand like it's an expensive crystal wine glass. You've been here for nearly three hours, just waiting for something to happen. Anything. A sign or something, like your secret admirer was just going to emerge from the crowd followed by a heavenly glow and a bouquet and you were going to live happily ever after.

But instead you seem to be the only near enough sober person in the building, inspecting your chipped nails for the nth time that night while Yoongi let's out intermittent bored sighs and questions how much longer until you throw in the towel and give up for good.

"Not yet," You say determinedly, eyes trained to the front door, like you're waiting for it to open. "We still have the whole night left to search."

Yoongi rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to say something but is quickly interrupted by Jimin who is looking a little green in the face. "Uh guys, I don't feel so good..."

"Woah!" Yoongi staggers up, arm shooting out the catch Jimin before he stumbles over his own feet. "You good, man?"

"I think..." Jimin brings a hand to his mouth, eyes suddenly panicked. "I think I'm gonna puke!"

Yoongi flashes you a concerned look. "Stay right here okay? I'll take him to the bathroom and be right back — come on, kid."

With that Yoongi hauls Jimin over his shoulder and disappears into the dark mouth of the party, Jimin's cries of not on my leather pants! ringing through the house.

You shake your head with a groan. Great. Now not only are you the weird sober girl at the frat party, you are alone.

Fuck it. If you were going to get through the rest of this night you might as well enjoy it right?

You slam your solo cup down on the bench, ripping the cap off a fresh vodka bottle and pour the liquid with shaky hands into your cup until it covers the red lipstick stain your lips have made on the rim. Raising the cup to your lips. you chug the contents in one go, wincing as the foul liquid burns a path through your body.

"Someone's eager!" A chirpy voice sounds from beside you. A hand comes out to grab the vodka bottle from your hand and you quickly recognise it to belong to none other than Kim Seokjin, who fills his own cup half way. "Having a good night, sweetheart?"

You are rendered speechless. A grey, silk, button up shirt hangs from his broad frame, spilling over the edges of his tight black jeans. You've never seen him in person before this moment but you see why he once got approached by a modelling agency on campus last semester — because this guy is next level hot. Like sex on legs hot. And it takes everything inside you to stop the way your knees wobble when his eyes look you up and down and focus on your mission.

Seokjin runs a hand through his bleached hair, pushing the strands upwards and away from his face as he slumps against the wall next to you, crossing his legs and taking a long swig from his cup, grimacing at the taste and earning a sympathetic grin from you.

"Eager to get drunk so I forget I'm here." You reply with a roll of your eyes, copying his movements and sipping on your own drink.

Seokjin eyes you curiously. Like he's intrigued by your less than enthusiastic response to seeing him. I mean, he did look like that after all. Most girls probably dropped their panties as soon as he entered the room. But not you. No. You were here for a reason.

"I haven't seen you around here before."

"Yeah. That's probably because I don't usually come to these things." You lean in closer, like you're letting him in on a secret. "Not usually my scene."

Seokjin nods, suddenly struck by a thought. "Then let's get drunk together!" He grabs your arm, bringing your solo cups together and creating a clink clink sound with his tongue, resulting in some of your drink sloshing over onto your jeans. "I bet I can change your mind about party's once you see how Kim Seokjin does it."

"Actually, I wanted to ask you about something first—" You retrieve the note, holding it out to him when his index finger presses against your lips and he lets out a shhh.

"Questions later. For now, you gotta try my famous concoction."

"Concoction?" You raise an eyebrow as Seokjin rips open a cupboard door and starts pouring a mixture of spirits into two cups. Just the sight of it makes your stomach churn but you tell yourself that this might be exactly what Seokjin needs to open up to you about the letter. Perhaps he'd be more loose lipped once tipsy?

Looks like you're about to find out. Seokjin thrusts one of the cups towards you.

"This will change your life. Trust me."

Rule number two. Never accept drinks from a stranger.

But Seokjin wasn't a stranger, technically, right? And besides, Yoongi himself had already broken rule number four by leaving you alone in the kitchen, so what would the harm be if you made things even in the name of Operation Love Letters?

"Sure." You say finally, taking the cup from his grasp and throwing the entire contents down your throat. "In the name of Operation Love Letters"

Soon enough, it is becoming difficult to remember exactly how many drinks you have drank already, but part of you doesn't care because you are finally starting to feel free.

It's clear that Seokjin feels similarly as his earlier giggles have turned into full on chortles, as everything you say seems to be of comedic value to him, able to practically send him rolling on the ground every time you speak.

You find yourself laughing along, cheering when he pours you another round. The bright, flashing disco lights from the lounge creep into the kitchen, bouncing off Seokjin's sharp features and the intensity of them hurts your eyes so you close them for a moment, shutting the party out completely and retreating inside your brain, which is slow and the calmest it has been since you got here. The sound of someone violently throwing up echoes in your ears, though you can't tell if it's coming from the garden or from the living room. It doesn't matter anyway.

Suddenly, you feel a pair of lips against your ear, words tumbling from them too quickly for you to pick them apart in your drunken state the first time, simply hearing a string of mumbles and murmurs. A giggle escapes your throat as you open your eyes, met with Seokjin's face meters from yours, mouthing something.

"I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be back!"

You feel yourself mouthing something back, but you have already forgotten what, lowering your head to rest it on top of your outstretched arm. Your eyes are blurry, barely able to focus on the crumpled beer cans that litter the counter a few inches from your nose. The music and sounds around you began to mould into one overwhelming hum that you can feel vibrating in every nerve ending and then—

A hand lands on your back. You twist under its grip, a woozy smile forming.

"Seokjin, you're back!" The exclamation leaves your mouth before you can see the owner of the hand which is still planted firmly between your shoulder blades, drawing small circles there. "Now...I gotta ask you something, hm? I got this note, and I think you know who sent it to me." Your shaky gaze focuses, realisation slightly delayed because of your drunken state, but you are able to slowly take in the face of someone who was very much not Seokjin standing over you as you hold out the letter.

This person has a head of black hair falling across a pair of steely eyes that burn into you hotly. The hand suddenly feels fiery and wrong against your back and you stumble to your feet in order to shake it off, knocking your metal bar stool to the ground in the process.

Rule number four: never be alone.

"Why're you out here all by yourself beautiful?" The guy slurs, staggering closer to you. His foul breath fans your face as he speaks. "Wanna come with me?" He drops his hands to grip your hips. Your arms are pressed between his chest and your own and you struggle to get them free so you can push him. Hit him. Punch him. Anything. You need to be away right now.

"She doesn't want to come with you, man."

"Hah, shhh bro, she wants to come with me, don't you beautiful?"

Your eyes are shut right but you feel his body get suddenly ripped away from yours, allowing you to fall forward into the space in front of you and let out the shaky breath you didn't know you were holding.

Another arm comes to rest gently around your shoulders, this one comforting and kind. Before you can register it, your body is being pulled forwards, faster than your feet can move and you stumble over own heel, but a hand comes to grip you just below your armpit, steadying you and practically carrying you away from the kitchen.

"What the fuck man?" Sounds from behind you, but you are too overwhelmed to notice.

Suddenly, your weak body collides with the brisk air outside. The feeling is refreshing against your lightly damp skin and you greedily gulp it into your lungs, desperate to get rid of the stale, hot air from inside. Your body is placed into a chair, the arm unwinding from your shoulders and instead opting to tap your hand.

"You okay?" A voice questions. Your eyes open enough to vaguely register a figure on one knee in front of you, a hand patting your arm comfortingly. "Hold on. Stay here." You see a pair of feet walking away. You're not sure how long they were gone for but you recognise the pair of red converse when they reappear.

"Drink this." A red cup is thrust into your line of vision. You begin to shake you head, groaning at the thought of enduring any more alcohol.

"Mmmf'had enough." You just about murmur, limply pushing it away.

"It's water. It'll help you feel better." Something tells you to trust the voice, taking the cup from his hands.

You throw your head back and let the deliciously cold liquid run down your throat, soothing the burn that remained from the liquor. You drain the cup of every last drop and let him set it neatly on the ground next to your feet.

"Do you have a ride home?"

"Can't go home yet. Promised I wouldn't break the rules..." You mumble, as you try to stumble to your feet but your legs feel wobbly and before you can take a step forward you feel your weight topple to the right.

A hand shoots out to grab your body as it falls. You don't remember if your body hits the floor as your eyes fall shut half way down, catching a glimpse of blue hair before everything turns black.

A light radiates from the window behind your head and your tired eyes reluctantly resist the sun invading the shield of your heavy lids with its brightness. Too bright, in fact, for your hungover state.

Your legs are splayed out at an uncomfortable angle, heavy and weak as they dangle over the edge of the bed which you snuggle deeper into, desperate to escape the intense feeling of regret nestling in the pit of your empty stomach.

Lifting your head from the cushion, you try and fail to open your eyes, grogginess clouding your vision, so you opt instead to marvel at the way the soft, orange glow that infiltrates the room is warm against your skin. You drag a finger down your still bare arm and enjoy the shiver the light feeling leaves behind, a comforting contrast to the thumping hangover that is beginning to grow stronger at your temples. Your tongue is dry and fat in your mouth, rough against the soft skin of your cheek as you attempt to create some moisture to relieve the feeling.

Just as you prepare to turn over, fully intending to fall back into a deep slumber and hopefully sleep off the hangover, a piercing noise sounds a short distance away, causing you to stir.

It is as though the sound pulls your head from a pool of deep water, your ears warming up and becoming alert at the surface as the water drains away. You strain. Did you imagine it?

"La la la..."

No! There it is again, the same shrill sound but clearer this time. It seems to be drawing gradually closer, a vaguely recognisable tune fitting together like a puzzle.

"I wanna be the very best, like no one ever was,"

Singing?

"To catch them is my real test, to train them is my cause,"

You kick your legs childishly, wriggling around on the mattress until you break free from the duvet that smothers your limbs and rip the pillow from beneath your head, bringing it down roughly against your face in an attempt to block out the sound that makes your head throb.

"Jiminnnnn," you groan, extending the last syllable of his name in annoyance. He must have found his way back to your place after the party last night, probably drunk out of his mind. How was he not knocked out on the couch on the opposite side of the room, a mirror image of your current state?

Memories of the night before slowly resurface in bits and pieces. Shaky hands pouring liquid into a red cup. Jimin's laughter. Yoongi's blurry face disappearing into a crowd of people. A pair of hands pressing into your hips, nails creating crescent bruises on your damp skin, the hairs rising on your arms before you're saved by—

"I will travel across the land, searching far and wide,"

"For fucks sake, Jimin, shut the fuck up!" You practically explode, launching the cushion in your arms across the room. You hear it hit the wall, and you cover your head and brace yourself for a blow twice as hard in retaliation

One...two...three...

Nothing. Not even a groan of discomfort.

"Teach Pokémon to understand..."

Your body shoots upright. The beating in your chest quickens when your shaky vision focuses on your unfamiliar surroundings. Dark blue sheets are draped across your torso, definitely not the pink, floral set you laid out on your bed last week and this is definitely not your apartment. Adrenaline courses through your veins at this revelation, cold and unwelcoming like a slap to the wrist.

Where the fuck are you?

The temperature suddenly feels like ice, forbidding and foreign, all forms of comfort disappearing as you take in the shelves of books stacked lazily on top of one another at the foot of the bed. Papers lay in piles on the desk situated against the opposite wall, a laptop closed but still connected to the electric supply neatly placed next to them. An office chair is half heartedly tucked underneath it, a black fraternity t-shirt draped across the back.

SEOKJIN. KAPPA TAU.

You re-read those three words at least a hundred times, you are sure of it. You read them so quickly that the white letters blur together to create one hazy blob.

You are hallucinating, you tell yourself, that or you are still drunk. The shock sends you tumbling out of bed, landing with a smack against the wooden floor in a flurry of blue sheets before you manage to scramble to your feet and rush towards the tall glass cabinet that stands behind you. Your hands press up to the glass, breath creating foggy clouds in front of the rows and rows of shining trophies, medals and plaques that line each shelf of the cabinet. Each is inscribed with the same name over and over again.

KIM SEOKJIN. BEER PONG CHAMPION 2019.

KIM SEOKJIN. BEST FRATERNITY PRESIDENT AWARD.

Fuck.

You feel something vibrate against the small of your back and you attack your back pocket, causing your phone to fall to the floor in the process. It lands upright, spinning for a short while before coming to a halt.

32 missed calls 12 voicemails Yoongi: "WHERE R U?" Yoongi: "DID U GO HOME??." Yoongi: "CALL ME."

You're about to call him back when...

"The power that's inside!"

The song coming from behind the door loudly interrupts your mental crisis.

You move towards the mirror on the wall, taking in your dishevelled appearance. Licking your thumb, you rub at the black eyeliner that had transferred below your eyes and run it through the baby hairs that stick up from your scalp at all angles.

Shakily, your hand reaches for the door handle, twisting until you feel the bolt unclick from the frame. With a deep breath you push the door open a crack, allowing you to squeeze your body out into a kitchen.

"POKÉMON! GOTTA CATCH THEM ALL — holy shit!"

The song comes to an abrupt end as the vocalist squeaks with surprise at the sound of your voice.

"Kim Taehyung?"

Silence is suddenly cast across the small room, a shirtless boy stood in nothing but luminous yellow shorts that contrast his blue hair staring at you wide eyed, one leg propped up on the nearest dining table chair. His left hand grips the handle of a saucepan that now hovers mid air above an empty plate, the other pointing towards the ceiling with a black spatula.

It is clear you have interrupted a serious performance of his repertoire (that you hoped no one else had to endure in their lifetime) and despite your initial reaction being to laugh at the comedic position you find him in, you resist, instead simply mirroring the lifeless blinks he sends your way.

The smell of cooking eggs fills the room, the scent enough to make your stomach feel woozy and emphasise the burn that still lingers there from all the vodka you poured down your neck at Seokjin's party. A few seconds pass before he snaps his mouth closed and proceeds to dish up his egg, shifting to hide the blush that has risen hotly in his cheeks. Taehyung's hair is messy as though he has not long woken himself, the sides flattened where he had laid against the pillow and the top sticking up in places.

"O-oh, sorry, did I wake you?" Taehyung stutters through his teeth, clearly dealing internally with the humiliation of being caught in his tighty whities. "Seokjin didn't tell me he was going to bring anyone back last night."

"Taehyung?" You ask warily, creeping further into the kitchen on the soles of your bare feet. It is cold, provoking your toes to curl. "Seokjin brought me back here?"

"Wait, you're Yoongi's roommate right?" His words are sudden and sharper this time, shoulders relaxing as he flicks his index finger out to point at you, a warm smile spreading across his face as he blows on a spoonful of egg.

"Uh, yeah. That's me." You admit, shrugging your shoulders as he nods his head. "I'm Y/N. You met me and my friend Jimin last night." It feels strange to introduce yourself to someone after you have already slept in their home, walked in on their shirtless one man show and rudely interrupted their Sunday morning breakfast. Taehyung doesn't seem phased though, waving his fork at you and speaking through a mouthful of yolk.

"Ah so that's how you met Seokjin! He didn't tell me that you two were ya know...getting it on." You splutter at his words, rushing forwards to to grip the kitchen counter for support when his eyebrows wiggle up and down as though their movements mean to insinuate something. "I'm his roommate, if you couldn't tell."

"We weren't - we didn't - at least I don't think..."

Your confused rambles are interrupted by a deeper voice that rumbles from behind the bathroom door that opens to reveal a figure in black sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. Seokjin.

A towel covers his head, hands rubbing frantically at the wet hair beneath it. A few stray droplets land on the front of his shirt, turning it a darker shade of grey wherever they touch. He lowers the towel, twisting it so it sits comfortably around his shoulders before he leans over to pick from Taehyung's plate with a roll of his eyes in your direction.

"Taehyung, the last time we gave you vodka you tried to do a hand stand on top of the kitchen table." He gestures towards the table next to you. You notice how the leg is taped tightly back together, making the entire structure look slightly lopsided. "Trust me, Y/N, you don't wanna trust anything this guy says when he is hungover."

"Woah, man, do you have to tell everyone that?" He hisses, cocking his head towards you and drawing an imaginary line across his neck as if to tell him to cut it out. "Congrats, though man!" He adds, dropping his empty plate in the sink and moving to give Seokjin an exaggerated pat on the back. "You got laid again!"

Seokjin's eyes widen with surprise, before he turns to you with a look of panic flashing across his features.

"See? My point exactly. We didn't—"

"Did we-- ?" Your question lingers awkwardly in the air, sounding more frantic than you had intended.

"What?! No!"

"Yeah, I'm gonna leave you two kids to it." Taehyung sucks on his teeth with a clap of his hands. He turns, striding into what is presumably his bedroom, calling "I'll be in my room if you need me!" over his shoulder as he does so.

Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. "Ignore him, he's just a massive nerd, really."

Seokjin shifts uncomfortably, and for the first time you see the douchey confident frat boy facade falter when he watches you fall into a dining room chair and let your head fall in your hands, silently hoping to cover the mortification present on your face.

"So you don't remember what happened at all?" Seokjin reaches into the closest kitchen cupboard, retrieving a glass that he fills with water directly from the faucet. He opens a box of pain killers and pops out two capsules.

"Nope. Zilch." You manage a feeble smile when he presses the pills into your palm. "Fill me in?"

"You were pretty fucked up last night so I thought it would be sensible to bring you upstairs," Seokjin hops up onto the counter beside you, so close that you can can almost smell his freshly applied deodorant. His leg bounces nervously. "I slept out here. Just so you know." He gestured towards the crumpled blankets that are strewn across the couch, barely covering the body shaped dent that had formed in the sunken cushions.

Raising your head, you sink lower into the chair and lift your eyes to finally meet his. His gaze is piercing, surprising you a little. He seems to notice, softening his stare. You usually find things like this uncomfortable. You were expecting a scrutinizing look, the type you were used to from guys like Kim Seokjin. But somehow Seokjin's intentions feel kind, perhaps slightly cautious but warm even so.

"Hey. Thank you. For helping last night. You didn't have to bring me here. And for saving me from that guy at the party. I'm seriously grateful. I owe you one."

"Trust me, it's all good. No debts or anything." He smiles at your rushed babble of appreciation, his hand unconsciously scratching a non-existent itch on the back of his neck. "After all, it was kinda my fault. If I'd known you were such a lightweight I wouldn't have given you that drink. Still feel kinda bad." His shoulders shrug jokingly and you can't help but snort at his words. He seems to relax at this, assured that you aren't as vulnerable as your sickly appearance suggests.

You shift in your seat and something crinkles in the back pocket of your jeans. Shit! The love letter!

"Well if you feel that bad about it, then how about you do me a little favour?"

Seokjin rolls his eyes playfully. "What type of favour, sweetheart?"

"This." You unfold the letter and slide it across the kitchen island towards him. "Do you know who could've written this?"

Seokjin's eyes widen as he scans the note, whispering the words beneath his breath as he reads. "Oh shit...this is like legit legit."

"That's what I said!" You nod eagerly. "Now does anything seem familiar to you?"

A finger stabs at the Kappa Tau logo in the corner of the page. "Well this paper definitely came from one of my guys. But it could be any one of them..."

A defeated sigh leaves you. "So you're saying you don't know who it could belong to?"

"I mean, I know it's not mine. But apart from that, it really could be anyone." He neatly folds the note and places it in your palm. "Sorry I couldn't help."

You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll just have to find a new lead..."

"I have an idea. Have you heard about the kissing booth the frat is organising for Valentine's Day?"

You nod. "Sure. What about it?"

"How about if you sign up, and like, set a trap for this guy. He'll think he can totally get away with kissing you. And you can catch him right in the act!"

"Huh. I guess that doesn't sound like such a bad plan..." You muse. "Maybe I could get Jimin to sign up with me..."

"Jimin is signing up for the kissing booth? I-I mean you and Jimin are signing up?" Taehyung's voice suddenly stammers as he bursts in the kitchen, thankfully dressed in far more clothing than before.

"Yeah, Seokjin just came up with this totally awesome plan to catch my secret admirer at the kissing booth—"

"When is it?" Taehyung splutters, face flushing a deep shade of red when he earns two startled looks. "I-I mean just wondering. For science."

"Anyone would think that you're her secret admirer man." Seokjin chuckles, and Taehyung just looks sheepish before he joins in half heartedly.

"Ha...that's funny. About that..." You open your mouth to pry further about why Taehyung is suddenly acting so skittish but the front door suddenly busts open and in walks Yoongi, still in his pajama shorts with a hoodie thrown over top and a hat to hide his bed hair.

He glances around the room before his eyes zero in on you, and before you can say anything he's running towards you and throwing his arms around you in a tight hug that knocks the breath straight from your lungs.

"Yoongi...can't...breathe."

"Where the fuck have you been?" Yoongi breathes amidst a sigh of relief. "I was close to filing a missing person's report. Why did you just disappear like that last night after I told you not to get lost?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" You wrap your arms around his waist and pat his back, as if to prove it. "You don't need to worry, Seokjin took care of me."

Yoongi's eyes narrow in on Seokjin sat at the breakfast bar eating a nutrients bar. "I was supposed to be taking care of you. Why did you leave with him?"

"Well good morning to you too, Yoongi." Seokjin says with a shrug of his shoulders. "Don't worry. There wasn't any funny business, I slept on the couch."

Yoongi narrows his eyes but let's you free from his grip gently. "You sure you're okay?"

"Completely."

"From now on you're staying at home where you won't get lost, no matter if you have to go on another Operation Passion Penpal mission or whatever."

"Operation Love Letters," You remind him with a punch to the shoulder. "And I promise I won't run off again without telling you first next time."

Despite the reassuring smile you flash him, Yoongi still scans your face for any sign of hesitation, his eyes softening at the edges with relief that you're not hurt. His mouth opens to say something but then he shuts it tightly again, taking a step back from you and scratching his neck with a grumble. "We should really get going. You'll be late to class."

"Shit!" You scramble to check your phone, finding a plethora of further missed calls and texts from a very worried Jimin. "You're right. I really should go..."

"Hey, I can drive you later if you want." Seokjin butts in, but Taehyung quickly shuts him down.

"Dude, chill. Just let him take this one okay?"

The room falls silent, all eyes falling on you. "Am I missing something?"

"Well, guess I'll be going then!" Taehyung avoids the question, turns on his heels and starts into a brisk walk but not before you're reaching for the strap of his backpack.

"Hey! Wait up!"

Before you can stop it, Taehyung's bag is slipping down his shoulders and falling to the ground in a flurry of books and papers that scatter all over the floor of the apartment. "Oh shit! I'm so sorry!"

Taehyung turns and just blinks at the mess, looking positively startled, and you assume it's because you just literally straight up attacked him, but when you bend to your knees and start to help him clear up, you see his eyes flit nervously to a piece of paper poking out from beneath a history textbook.

You recognise it instantly. It's written on the very same type of paper as the note in your back pocket and your heart almost skips a beat.

As if reading your mind, Taehyung's hand shoots out to grab the note at the same time as yours, and much to your dismay there's a loud rip! as the piece of paper tears down the middle, each of you holding an opposing half.

Taehyung avoids your eyes as he shoves everything back into his bag and leaves you kneeling on the kitchen floor, clutching a note littered with a familiar scrawl.

"I'll see you around." He says simply, before his head of blue hair disappears down the staircase.

"Hey wait!" Seokjin calls as you get up to follow Yoongi who is already on his way out to the car. "Let me know how the mission goes. And if you don't find the guy, feel free to crash one of my parties again anytime."

"I—okay!" You squeak, face burning hot as you rush down the stairs away from Seokjin's amused chuckle. "Thanks again!"

You grab your phone and dial up your best friends number when you're out of earshot from Seokjin. He sounds relieved to hear you're okay, quickly quieting down when you tell him that you think you have a new lead in the form of a certain blue-haired-roommate's-best-friend.

"Meet me at my place, I'll tell you everything, I promise. I've got big news about Operation Love Letters!"

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kerblackthorn · 3 years

Text

Unmasking the Master-Mistress of Magic

I am the prophet of the Mastriss, the seer in the Darkness. I sought a path: I looked to religion, to science, and to the innumerable paths within Paganism, Hinduism, the occult, and Wicca, but none could hold, none could contain fully my heart nor express the language of my soul. I pilgrimaged to India and Europe, became certified in yogic instruction, I took many plants hoping to finally rend the Veil and see the Truth. Intuitively, I always knew that Truth is One although our languages and cultures are many. Truth is absolute although our experiences are as countless as the stars. As variable in sound as the way each child develops their speech. We do not invalidate one another but expand our breadth and depth of knowledge for this beautiful wondrous Kosmos through one another.

I shall seek to express in such variable human skills the Truth of our existence. I shall try to explain how to experience this Truth, that anyone who reads my words would make connections and find their own words. That when you speak to the spirits, they would speak back and be heard. I want to do this because I love you, although I do not yet know you. All of this World is my kin, and so you who read my words are my brothers and sisters, my aunties and uncles. I was discouraged and deluded, full of doubt and fear, but when I found the footsteps of the Trickster in every culture, the fingerprints of that profoundly simple dual-natured Mastriss experientially everywhere I sought the reality of things, all of my burdens were shed. Now, I wander around with a head as empty as a child and eyes as open as a madman. I come and go from my body as a mouse from their hole.

Having drunk from the breasts of the Mighty Goat, I smile at the Wind, talk to the Tree-People, and sometimes cry when I pluck a Plant. All of my needs and desires are taken care of, and I have no fear of any future need or desire to go unmet. My spirit-mate walks beside me and I see Her smile and hear Her voice all throughout my days. One day, when the Dark Angel comes for me, that demon that once terrified me but whose mighty name I know now and call, I will go along hand-in-hand with a smile as friends on our merry way to those well-known Lands I often dream of.

If you would set out upon this path, you must make every effort to break open your mind. The mind will always doubt, always delude, and always unnecessarily entangle you. Therefore, go to war with the mind: empty it, destroy its barriers, and achieve madness for yourself. The boons of Dionysus and the panic of Pan are your friends on this path, and the comforts of Aphrodite are your secure fixing point. Make Venusian love your great guiding principle and no evil will overtake your soul. As this war of the mind is undertaken, you must work to change your mind to its very core when it comes to 3 human beliefs whose presence is the greatest reason that unnatural religions continue to prevail in this world and the body clings so tightly to the soul that people have forgotten how to dream and how to sojourn out of the bonds of the daily self.

The first is the basically gnostic worldview which has been so ingrained through it's Christianization and the subsequent spread of Christianity. Gnosticism teaches us that the world is spiritual over physical, mind over matter, principles over practice… this is the first great trick which the Mastriss uses to test us. You must see past this preoccupation with compartmentalizing. Break open the dam of your spirit and let it flow out over your life! Embrace the truth of animism. Until science began to overtake religion in the 19th century it is clear from the journals of clergymen that even the Christian Church embraced this worldview until it had been supplanted by a science which was entirely incomplete, which could not comprehend the things which modern minds have found: the truths of quantum physics, the language of trees and water, and the true nature of consciousness were all matters of religion then, and when microscopes did not reveal these miniature worlds, the old world dismissed all the majesty of mystical religion. The reality is that mysticism was and always will be far ahead of science. Embrace animism, return to the primal.

The second trick we must overcome from the Mastriss is that of nature's triumph over nurture. We have fought with nature for so long, becoming, as anthropologists assert, cooked and "overdone". But now an eldritch call is going out in this last age of humankind, a voice that tells us we must return to the primal, the primitive, the raw, or else we will perish. This latest viral threat is just a taste of what the spirits will unleash unless we can succeed. A true religion must therefore be primal, entirely banded to the natural world and the survival of the Earth. A religion which neglects the eternal nature of the Earth as the World Tree itself, containing the 3 worlds within Her, will bring about an organic age of peace, balance, and harmony without needing laws and courts and tariffs and the imbalanced malarkey of the patriarchy to succeed. Earth-centric spirituality is fundamental.

The third and final trick we must overcome is the myth of humanity's separateness. Now, this is rough ground to till due to the preoccupation people have today with avoiding something called "cultural appropriation". And in one aspect, this preoccupation is something very positive: syncretism can quickly turn into a cycle of devouring, digesting, and regurgitation which leaves people with something so different and new that the original culture is lost. However, there is also a deeply ingrained principle in us all that Truth is absolute, even if it is not capable of being explained in absolutes. No one would seek out religion and pour over books and demand experiences if they were not wanting to know the true nature of existence and the laws and spirits behind the Kosmos. That doesn't mean that the language and system they learn is absolute, but that they are experiencing the reality of things. It's like meeting a person for the first time with your best friend: you both may discuss the same event and make up entirely different judgments about this newcomer.

Syncretism is, however, very helpful, as the process of seeking synchronicity with spirits and experiences and books allows one to develop a system of fact checking oneself and developing a road map toward broader horizons through knowledge one has not yet experienced. When viewed through the lens of animism, this process becomes even simpler. There is a strong chance that when viewed through the lens of animism some of the spirits that seem related from other cultures are, at times, angels of the primary deity who dwells within the same natural phenomenon. Angels are simply messengers, reflections of the spirit-gods they serve… the 7 primary Olympic Spirits who correspond to the 7 planets have hosts of angels that serve below them. Every one of the 72 Elohim encountered by Solomon has so-called "legions" of angels below them. I use angel here in the older and proper Grecian context which accords the etymology of the word.

I fall back on Helleno-Roman texts and worship a lot, alongside grimoire texts. I do this simply because it is so well preserved and so well ingrained in the Western corpus. Moreover, the “Papyri Graecae Magicae” and the “Orphic Hymns”, two veritable treasure troves of mystical wisdom handed down to us, veritable scripture for me, are culturally Hellenic. Jesus' draws on beliefs around Ouranon, Olympus, and Hades constantly in his teachings, teachings which most of us are somewhat familiar with. And the names of the Gods of All are contained in the PGM and Orpheus’ songs; that said, most of us have 4 seasons, so relying solely on Hellenic Reconstructionism does not necessarily make sense. It is absolutely divine that such a culture rooted in animism survived for us today, and it is so easy to understand their recordings due to the omnipresence of the Christian Church in the West, but not all of the personality of the True Religion has been contained therein. Moreover, celebrating the overlap and gaps filled in by other cultural beliefs is a beautiful treat: something the Orphics did to a lesser degree and the mageia of Alexandria did at length, and so is true even to the spirit of these origins.

Furthermore, relying solely on the ancient Hellenic religion does not make sense for a witch because Hellenismos was not predicated on the survival of witchcraft, seeking to outlaw and destroy it really, and the philosophy behind ancient Greek religion revolved around the worship of the 12 Olympians. The True Gods, the Old Gods, had been displaced and locked away to greater and lesser degress. Hecate, Hades, Persephone, Cybele, Helios, Selene, even Eros and Pan were mostly propitiated out of dire necessity. The mageia of Alexandria remembered Their true names, however, as well as the worship appropriate to Them and Their existence at the Root of All Things. In Rome, the peasantry are recorded handing down the story of Diana and Lucifer (the latter of whom is Eosporos before Roman naming came into effect) in “Aradia: the Gospel of the Witches”. This should be a sacred text for any true witch for in it we have the story of how the True Gods came and how They mean to come back, as well as Their natures and the relationship witches are invited to have with Them.

How then do we bring back the Old Gods as They choose, no longer boxing Them or packaging Them, but rather letting Them rule with Their own personalities? Quite vehemently, magic on the level of the miraculous, brothers and sisters. The story of Aradia is the story of how, when one has been granted a boon by Hecate-Diana, you should tell everyone how great She is and tell others how to pray to Her for their own benefit. Same as the story of how Isis won the secret name of Ra… you don't need to attack people with your faith as the Christians do, but to tell everyone how great your life has become as a result of Hecate, Eosporos, and Hades work in your life. If you are wont to, call Them Morrigan, Dagda, and Cernunnos, or Freya, Odin, and Thor. As long as the secret names from the PGM and the grimoires are intact and you know that you are talking to the God of Death, the Goddess of Fate, and the Mastriss of Storms you'll get far.

And on that note, I'd like to share some of the miracles I've seen Them work for me and those I love through me. 5 years ago, when I went to look for a home, I couldn't even qualify for a measly $450k loan, barely scraping up to the $300k level. In my home state, this means all I could afford were places that had been destroyed by the previous tenets, and the only bank loan I could qualify for required the home to be perfect… I had two kids and was very afraid what this meant for my future. I now have a $450k rental and I live in a $1.5M home in the woods. I let the Mastriss take the wheel of my life: I started working a little harder and accepting job offers and life offers that came in, and the Mastriss took care of me. This gave me the time and freedom to actually start pursuing my true passion, which is worshipping the Elder Gods, preaching and writing about Them, and practicing the Craft of the Witches.

When my middle son was very little, 1 year old, his older sister accidentally slammed his thumb in the door at a hotel in Disneyworld Orlando. It was a heavy, metal door and his little thumb was as flat as a pancake and oozing blood. I asked the Mastriss to heal him as we drove to the ER, using an old Germanic charm I have picked up. By the time we arrived, he was asleep. By the time we checked in, the thumb had stopped bleeding. By the time we got seen, it looked normal and he was already using it. They laughed at the resiliency of children, but a doctor visiting Disney had already seen the thumb and said that the bones looked smashed to pieces from the door, which had closed shut without any space in the frame at all. I had found him trying to yank his little thumb free from the steel frame, and it was not budging. And yet, 2 hours later, here was his thumb looking and feeling as well as ever. It didn't even swell up.

I have lived in the woods for more than half my life, and when I was young, I saw the Mastriss standing at the edge of the woods in the moonlight. The creature-form was mesmerizing and terrifying, with the haunches and mouth of a goat but the torso of a breasted humanoid. The Mastriss had piercing dark eyes that saw into my soul and the moonlight draped the Beast’s form like a cloak; my mother froze looking at the Beast beside me, standing at the woods edge. She was angry with me when the Beast left, saying that this was all my fault due to my "dabbling". Later, when my little sister and I were wandering in the same woods, I accidentally kicked a mountain lion who was sleeping in the underbrush. Startled, the lion roared and took off and then, to our terror, began running back at breakneck speed. When the lion was back within sight, I yelled, "I have seen the Master of these woods! I have seen the Master of all the woods! And not one evil can befall Them! Help me, Master Goat! Send Your angel!" And the lion stopped in its tracks, lowered its body, and slunk back gently into the grass.

If anything in your life is concerning you for any reason, no matter how big or small, try the Mastriss out. Put the Goat Angel to the test. Don't be afraid, because the Mastriss will appear to you as you need, and often appears as a little blue child to those who would fear Their Bestial Form, as to those Hindus who call Them little baby Krishna and those grimoires who call Them Lucifer or the King of the Fae respectively. In reality, the Mastriss is neither male nor female, but third-gendered. The One Who stands at the Gate to the Otherworld, Scirlin, Janus, Papa Legba: all masks that the Mastriss of Misrule wears, disguises and spirits that serve Them. Pray at the Threshold of your home, the edge of the Woods, on a Bridge, at the edge of the Ocean: "Mastriss of the Winds and Storms, Goat Angel Who tussles the tops of the trees, Adonai Sabaoth Who leads the Deathless Hosts through the windswept realm, I ask You to come into my life and order it how You see fit. Child and earthly consort of our Dark Mother, Brimo, let Your name be blessed by my tongue. Light up my life, Mastriss Lumiel, and let Your breast be my sweet succor. In the name of Your Chief Angel, Heliou Amene."

#witchcraft #animism #mastriss #western folk #lucifer #lumiel #brimo #pgm #greek magical papyri #hellenism #witch

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x-starling-x · 4 years

Text

here is what i think of jikook - the ship between BTS Jimin and BTS Jungkook. i know i'll probably get alot of hate and disagreement on this matter, but i really wanted to share my thoughts with other people. please don't attack me over this, it is merely an opinion and even if yours is different to mine, it doesn't invalidate it. let me begin.

i think Jimin and Jungkook are real to some extent and i believe they are a couple. *cue the screaming of outraged taekookers across the globe*. now, just let me repeat myself, just as my opinion doesn't invalidate yours, yours doesn't invalidate mine. i really do believe that they are real.

why, i hear you say. here's why.

in korea, alot of times friendships between the same gender are just seen as skinship and for some that is true, but for Jimin and Jungkook, i don't think it is. when they first formed the band with the rest of the members, Jimin was a very zealous and flirtatious friend to Jungkook. he'd always comment on how much he liked and adored Jungkook. he also always asked for kisses and other forms of affection and he was practically glued to Jungkook's side, feeding him compliments and trailing him wherever he went. now this could've been seen as a thing that normal friends did, platonic love is very strong after all, but Jungkook didn't really respond well to the attention. he was naturally a very shy, guarded guy that valued his space and was quite awkward. then he was bombarded by this eager friend that always seemed to have an eye on him. he pushed Jimin away firmly and told him to back off. he always seemed tense whenever Jimin instigated these types of things. he even told Jimin to stop. this all implied that he didn't feel comfortable with Jimin's behaviour and that it wasn't a natural, flowing thing that happened between them. then there was the matters of him ranking Jimin last in looks, singing, style etc. also the harsh, cold things that he'd say to Jimin. from these events, it became clear, or so people thought, that Jungkook hated Jimin.

so when the situation completely changed; Jimin being more aloof and not so obsessed with Jungkook and Jungkook actually caring and coddling Jimin, it struck many as odd. but not me. it was clear to me from day one that Jungkook cared for Jimin far more than he'd ever admit or show. little gestures such as: looking at Jimin for encouragement, letting Jimin support him when he didn't know what to say, actually seeming more relaxed with Jimin than other members, heck him even saying that, "Jimin hyung is very nice and the person I find easiest to talk to. i'm just cold (shy)," all pointed to the obvious - JUNGKOOK LIKES JIMIN AS WELL. *the taekookers gasp*.

and slowly over time it became even more apparent. let's take for example: the gcf in Tokyo. now this itself is quite intimate for Jungkook. to take Jimin to another country, just the two of them, without cameras for a couple of days was something very sentimental and arguably unlike Jungkook to do. *cue taekookers pulling up youtube playlists of sentimental taekook moments*. no, i don't mean to say that Jungkook is an ice prince with an unbreakable heart of cold. nope. what i do mean to say is that he's quite reserved, especially back then, and i haven't seen him do something quite like that for anyone else aside from Jimin. even more strange, he made a video, hence the gcf in the title, starring Jimin (who didn't know at the time that it was going to be aired) and their travels and experiences through Tokyo. now here's the part where it gets interesting. Jungkook has already said that his editing of the gcf was based of an already existing youtube video where it tells you how to video your lover. yep you heard me. *cue squealing of taekookers saying that that doesn't mean anything*. pretty sure it does hun, but that's not the point. anyways, in the video it gives a list of instructions some being stuff like doing shots of your lover framed by an airplane window or of your lover eating or against a mirror. one of the last steps was to use music that meant alot to you and held an element of something that you related to yourself. and guess what music Jungkook used? a gay love song by Troye Sivan, who is one of the biggest gay icons out there. if that doesn't tell you anything, then i don't know what will. another thing that supports my earlier point of Jungkook's ever clearer admiration of Jimin is him getting Jimin and only Jimin a birthday present. now this may seem a tiny thing, but Jungkook is very bad at giving gifts and hasn't given a member a birthday gift before Jimin. and after him, he didn't do so again. this is very telling. it's clear proof that Jungkook does love and care about Jimin and even if people say he doesn't, it can't lessen what he feels or take away from the truth of these statements. and it is very clear, as i have earlier shown, that Jimin loves and cares for Jungkook too.

now i understand that all this can be written off as extremely intimate friendship, but there was something very eye-catching and unique about jikook to me, from the beginning. if i told you every little thing about why they are possibly real, we'd be here a while and i have got to get some beauty sleeo, it's already 12 am.

so if you wanna know the ins and outs of this explained as best as possible, please go on youtube and search for:

The Ultimate Jikook Video.

it tells you alot of what you need to know. heck that video coupled with my suspicions were the real things that got me into believing that jikook is real. please watch it. you will not regret it, i PROMISE.

this post is slowly coming to an end, but there's one more thing that i need to address. often times when i bring up jikook, I'm treated like I'm just a delulu 11 year old girl or something. people say this even though they don't know a single thing about jikook. they don't understand and aren't willing to see the receipts to why it might be real. not only with jikook, but with alot of gay ships, shippers are made to feel like crazy, obsessed sasaengs when we really have a valid and mature opinion just like everyone else in this world about EVERYTHING. what's really immature is dismissing a person's opinion about something that you know nothing about.

and just as a disclaimer, i know tons about taekook. i try to look into every ship before i make judgements. and really, jikook have been the only ship that I've ever thought might actually be real. that might not mean anything to you, but it does to me.

i've talked about alot of what i wanted to, so i'm gonna end the post here, but before i do i just want to say that i love you. despite what race, gender, sexuality or ship you ship or group you stan. in the end we all have one thing in common: we're all living, breathing humans that have a chance at life. and bullying someone and spoiling what is their only chance is wrong and such an awful thing to do. what seperates us shouldn't be whether our skin is brown or white or whether we like kissing a guy more than a girl. what seperates us is the things we do, for good and for bad. that's why my blog is safe to everyone, no matter who they are, if they're a good person. remember that if no one loves you, not even yourself, i will.

❤❤❤❤

#bts #jungkook #love #jimin #jikook

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a3imaginesblooming · 4 years

Text

Summer Breeze || One-Shot Juza Hyodo x Reader

Contains: Fluff, Profanity (It’s Juza), Juza x Reader.

—

Juza could literally feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead in the stifling heat. He swiped at them with his palm, sighing heavily. Cicadas’ chirps buzzed across the courtyard and straight into his eardrums, another irritating staple of the current season. This was not the ideal place to try and concentrate on his lines, but he felt more reluctant to go back inside and deal with Settsu’s constant bitching. Even if he had to sweat it out here, he could deal with that if it meant

some peace and quiet.

More important was his role. Tsuzuru had finished up earlier than expected, and looking over what he’d been assigned… He wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. It just wasn’t him, and his frustration only ate away at him every day he found himself out here, practically glaring holes into the paper. What in the hell was a romance subplot doing in an Autumn troupe play? Better yet, why did Minagi think casting him for it was a good idea? He should know Juza wasn’t suitable to portray some dumbly lovestruck guy...

Well, maybe that was a lie.

As if somehow on cue, Juza caught a figure emerging from the dorms out of the corner of his eye. It was (Y/N), (Favourite Drink) in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other. Hung around their elbow was a basket he knew would contain an assortment of treats.

He quickly pressed the copy closed, cast it out of his mind. To see their happy face right now was suddenly far more appealing than getting worked up over lines and lines of increasingly confusing dialogue— he didn’t get creative types at all. Besides, his taste buds were all but crying out for something sweet.

“Hi, Juza!” They chirped in a greeting, smiling widely from ear to ear. He felt warmth radiate through his chest at the sight.

“...Hey.”

As they came closer, (Y/N)‘s brows knit together in an expression of concern. They’d obviously noticed how unhealthily baked he must’ve looked by now. Juza suddenly felt self-conscious, and leaned back, raking a sweaty hand through his hair, as if that would help his case.

(Y/N) looked over him, sympathetically, and extended the tall glass to him; “Here, drink this. In this kind of weather you really need to stay hydrated…” He, obedient, accepted it with lowered eyes, feeling a little guilty that he had made them worry over him. Only a grunt of thanks could escape his throat as he knocked it down a little too eagerly.

Juza swallowed, and tried again; “Thanks, (Y/N)...” Always more gruff than intended. It didn’t matter. Unlike everyone else, they had never been afraid. Certainly not now; as when they laughed, the sound was warm and seemed to fill the entire courtyard.

“You’re welcome. Mind if I sit?” They needed no invitation, of course, and hefted the basket higher up their shoulder to fit beside him. It was pleasantly comforting to feel their added weight settle on the bench.

Juza shifted to make space, only to find he’d been practically glued to the wooden surface after sitting in the same place for too long. He squinted up at the sky; it must have been a while now since he’d come out to the courtyard. He could’ve sworn the sun wasn’t so low before… When he looked back at (Y/N), who began to set out all the goodies they’d brought, all he could think was how radiant they looked now, as the sun’s golden rays of light shone on their hair, their eyes.

They cast him a glance, momentarily, and found he couldn’t quite meet their gaze, so he just stuffed a pastry into his mouth, wishing he could convey how much he loved them- their baking, without having to use words. He was too clumsy for that.

(Y/N), having finished up setting out the whole mini-picnic, sipped at their own drink with a hum of contentment. “...Hope they ain’t botherin’ you in there.” At this, they seemed to hesitate, glancing over their shoulder toward where they’d came. “They’re not, it’s just…” (Y/N) trailed off. Juza knew the feeling. It might have seemed peaceful on the outside, but faint whoops and hollers could still be heard from where they were. Summer troupe in particular could be pretty rowdy, especially hot on the heels of a performance.

“Anyway!” They turned back to him, eager for a subject change, “You having trouble with the script?” Juza blinked, nodding slowly. “Sorta.’” He admitted.

“Tsuzuru… Don’t get what he was goin’ for.” He took up the script again, as well as another pastry, and (Y/N) leaned closer to peer at it, eyebrows drawn. “Why not?”

He hesitated for a moment, but decided it would be something he’d be practicing with them watching anyway.

“Just read.” He said, and held it up to the light for a better view.

They cast him a curious glance, but after a moment of looking over the lines, seemed to digest his meaning, and sat back in equal confusion. “It’s, um… Not what I’d expect from an Autumn play?”

“Yeah. ‘S weird.”

He popped yet another pastry in his mouth, most of the contents of the basket having already disappeared in the same fashion. (Y/N) seemed lost in thought for the moment, seemingly having found a use for his script as a kind of folding-fan. He briefly wondered if they’d eat anything themselves. He’d try his best to leave some for them…

Suddenly, they shot up, a gleam in their eyes. “Juza!” They exclaimed. “You’ve probably memorised those lines by now, right?” Yeah, by now he should hope so...

He raised a brow.

(Y/N) blew out a puff of air. “You can use me as, like a… Practice dummy, I guess? Remember when we did that way back when? Gives you something to focus on.” They explained, hopefully, sounding almost out of breath. He did, but… Juza stiffened, aware of exactly what that would entail this time around.

“...Are you okay with that?” Although he asked this more to himself than anything.

“Of course! I’m the one suggesting it, aren’t I?” They moved to the centre of the courtyard, drink in hand. A light gust of wind picked up, carrying the faint aroma of Tsumugi’s well tended flowerbeds. He supposed, if it would help…

“...’Kay,” he nodded, and after picking off what he’d deemed as his share of the basket, stood up to position himself a fair distance in front of them.

His agreement pleased (Y/N), and they showed it, grinning widely from ear to ear. “Alright!” The cool, late-summer breeze was rising, stirring his finer hairs, but he could still himself blush, just a bit; like he always did when they smiled at him like that. Get it together.

After a moment of searching for their own lines, (Y/N) gave him the signal to begin, and he took a sharp intake of breath to recite:

“I’d follow you anywhere, Marcella. Just say the word. My feelings for you will never—“ Juza grimaced. It was all too strange in his voice. He couldn’t say all this sounding like he was about to violently clobber ‘Marcella’ over the head.

“I know, Roderich.” He blinked, surprised. Ad-libbing? “But this is a journey I must undertake alone. Pray, leave me be...” And from an entirely different scene too; but that was probably a mishap. He watched them painedly start away, even mimicking Tsuzuru’s stage directions. They were actually really getting into this, huh? Cute.

No, don’t think about that. Focus. He readied himself into character again, this time where they’d started: “No, you’re only making a mistake! The world beyond the Capital is dangerous; I’ve been there, I’ve seen it!” Juza took their cue, grasping at the air as Roderich would’ve done Marcella, desperately.

(Y/N), stomping their foot in faux indignation, cried out: “Enough! You are my underling, are you not? I order you to release me this instant!”

“I serve the King, and his orders overrule that of his Queen.” He said, firmly.

Marcella scoffed. “The King now lies an invalid for his reckless choices. The man is an incompetent fool, you know that as well as I!”

“Not in this, Marcella, I—“

(Y/N) broke character for a moment so he could recall the rest of it, and sipped again at their drink, to soothe their throat. His heartbeat thumped in his chest, and he realised how much fun practicing with them like this was. Doing anything with them was fun; being together made it so.

Another cooling breeze came in from the West, opposite a falling horizon. Now, he saw that the sun’s rays crawled like fingers across sunset-tinted moss and cement, grasping hold of the courtyard, its fading light soon to be extinguished. However much time he’d passed stewing away inside himself, much more had passed when he spent with (Y/N).

He liked being with them. He loved to be with them. He loved them, he—

“I love you.” And then it was said.

(Y/N) nearly spat out their drink, thumping at their chest to keep it down.

Shit.

They squinted back at their lines, as what he’d just blurted out sank in.

Shit.

“Um… I don’t think that’s…” (Y/N) flipped through his copy in bewilderment as he stood, eyes stuck to the garden tiles, dumb and paralysed. “...In the script?” Shit. “Actually, where was that other thing…?”

A sharp chord of dread struck through him, his throat drier than sandpaper. “...Juza, are you okay?” He knew their searching eyes fell next onto him, but he could not move an inch. Shit. Shit.

“...M’fine.” He grumbled, harsher than he meant it to be. Anyone else would have felt threatened. (Y/N) just frowned.

“You’re clearly not.” He felt them move steadily closer. “Juza, you know it’s okay if you made a mistake, right?”

Shit. He did, but he had to say it now. He had already said it.

“I—I mean, I wasn’t expecting it but… I’m sure it’s not so easy to remember all those lines, right?”

No hiding anymore.

“It wasn’t.” He looked straight ahead now, his mouth practically moving of its own accord. “A mistake, I mean.” He took a sharp intake of breath. “Or part of the script, I—…”

“...Said it ‘cos I meant it.”

(Y/N) froze in place, as if that was all he’d needed to say. “Wait— you meant it— I…” He didn’t know why they were so surprised. If he hadn’t fallen for them by now he would’ve been an idiot.

“So—… So that wasn’t part of the—…”

“Yeah.”

A moment of silence fell between them.

“...I’m sorry. Ya’ don’t have to say anything.”

He turned away. Now he’d gone out and said it, Juza knew the best thing he could do now was leave. Forget it ever happened.

He wouldn’t forget the way (Y/N) had closed the distance between them, throwing their arms firmly around his neck to halt his withdrawal.

He could feel the warmth of their flushed cheeks and the fluttering of their eyelashes. It was something that really shouldn’t have happened, but their lips felt real against his. They tasted sweet.

His heartbeat pulsed in his throat as they drew back, still close enough to exchange breathless sighs.

“I—...” Juza felt his face burn red. What had just happened?

“Um— me too.” (Y/N) said quietly. They looked like he felt, their earlier boldness tapering off into a meek . “...Kinda for a while now.”

Their grip slackened, but he counteracted with an almost involuntary hold of his own. They leaned into him.

“...You’re...Sure?” He said quietly, almost afraid they’d disappear if he didn’t keep them close to him, physically.

“Yes.” They stated, a hard sureness to their voice. He felt his stomach tighten, subject to a thousand butterflies. “Did you mean it?”

“Yes.” With finality, and with newfound confidence leaned in to kiss (Y/N) again, locked in true embrace.

They stayed like that for a long time.

—

Requested by @nervwrecked, I hope it’s soft enough for you! If I’m being honest, Juza (and love scenes in general...) is kinda hard for me to write? Yikes

Thanks for the ask! •v•

#a3!#a3! actor training game #act! addict! actors!#a3! Oneshots #a3! Juza #Juza Hyodo #Juza Hyodo x reader #fluff #next fic req: Misumi angst fic #ngl i was...#thinking about that one gru meme #while writing this

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tazanna-blythe · 5 years

Text

Done

Chapter 1

Marinette had an awful week. A week full of Marinette we need this, Marinette can you make this?, Marinette plan this, Marinette schedule this , Marinette fix this and etc. And when she'd say no or that she's busy they call her lazy and petty. And this is just her so called classmates and miss bustier did nothing to help her and just said to do it.

Oh and let's not forget the constant bullying and abuse they do outside of school and the constant taunts of lie la and the dismissive looks Adrian give her when ever she disagree with him on something.

She can' t take this anymore . She's exhausted mentally and physically and this is affecting not only on school but on ladybug most fight's she had with akuma's last only minutes now its almost an hour which is bad and its taking a toll on her.

She needs this to stop , she needed a plan. A plan to stop all this ,a plan to finally give her the peace and relaxation she so deserves not only for her insanity but also for her future.

While Marinette ponders on tikki is furious ,so mad that she's wishing someone's death! Which is not like her, she's the type that believes that everyone deserves a second chance to redeem themselves. The caring, loving and forgiving kwamii never gets truly mad at anything is now bloody red from thinking of how everyone treats her chosen to the point that she readily helps her chosen on her plan and a wicked plan it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The 2 of them finalized there plan until they saw the sun rises and the hurried foot step of her parents preparing for the morning rush of the bakery.

"Well tikki if we need this plan to succeed i need a lot of money, time and patients. Which the first 2 don't have"

"yes , we do!"

"What?? Where ?? When? How??"

" Marinette did you forget I'm the goddess of creation, i can just create some money for you easy peasy" . As tikki was getting ready to create money out of thin air.

"Tikki no!!! This is wrong and we don't know how long its gonna last and how much energy your gonna use and the money we need isn't small you know! And most of all this is ILLEGAL!"

"Then what are we gonna do??"

"How about you make me mini camera with Hd quality lenses and audio?"

"Sure Marinette?! I can do that, how many do you need??"

"Just 2 and make it look like my hair tie???"

Just as Marinette orders 2 identical hair tie's appears in thin air that looks the same as her old one's . Without any hesitation she opens it and saws a mini camera in side with 2tb (terabyte) SD card each inside. With that she gets ready for the day and went down stairs with a new hair tie and confidence .

Marinette left the bakery with no one noticing her and hurriedly walk to school. while she was almost at the top of the stairs.

"How could you!" Alya screamed at her " you were supposed to babysit my sister last night so Nino and I can have a date!!"

Marinette raised her eyebrow "Babysit? How can i babysit when no one told me to and I was busy"

"What can you be busy of? You don't do anything special and you have a lot of free time and most of all I'm your best friend and friends have each others back !!"

"Bestfriend so it means i have to do your job??"

"Yes! And where's the interview with ladybug you promised me? Its been weeks all ready and I don't have anything new about ladybug."

"First of all I didn't promise you anything second why don't you just ask Lila about the interview she's ladybug's best friend I'm sure she'd love to help you"

"Oh that's right ill just ask her at least she'll help me unlike somebody i know" with that she walks inside looking for Lila.

*sign* Marinette slowly but surely walks to the classroom and sat on her sit, puts her head down and fallen asleep.

*Rings*

Lunch break its lunch break and no one even notice Marinette was sleeping alone at the back . Slowly Marinette opens her eyes and walks out of the classroom and see's most of her classmates surrounding Liela and telling a new tall tale about who knows what. At this point she doesn't care anymore.

She walked to the vacant table and starts eating her croissant.

"Yes, damiboo loves me so much that he even bought me this beautiful bracelet, i told him not to buy me this but he insisted on it so who am i to say no hahahaha" everyone started looking at her bracelet in awe.

" ahhh Lila this is beautiful and is this damiboo your talking about is Damián Wayne right?" Alya ask with twinkle in her eyes

"Aw yes but please don't tell anyone this is suppose to be a secret we don't want people getting the wrong idea"

"That's so sweet ,where did you meet Lila" rose said sweetly

"We are childhood friends I've know each other since we were 6 yrs. His family just adores me and practically wanted me to just move in with them but my mom said we were to young so she'll have to keep me for the time being"

"Awwww...that so romantic I wish I have that" rose send with hearts in her eyes

While everybody flocks on Liela there's 3 people looking at the group in disbelieve. And the 3 would be Marinette, Chloe and Adrien all 3 of them knows with one look that the bracelet is fake and by the looks of it very cheap mostly likely a fashion jewelry.

" I cant believe people actually believes utterly ridiculous "chloe said seriously

Marinette looks up from her table and saw Chloe approaching her and sitting down at the table right next to her.

"What are you doing here Chloe"

" I know I'm grade a bitch but i can't stand stupid people i mean look at it with just one glance you would know that bracelet is fake and it's not even that beautiful i just don't get why their flocking at her. And i rather be here with you than hear another ridiculously story about who knows what"

"You and me both Chloe"

"So are you going to exposure or what"

"Yes of course I just need time and help"

" I'll help you in one condition you need to sign the contract to work in my mother's company ezpz right a win-win for both of us"

Marinette raised eyebrow "Joking right! Why on earth would you want me to work with your mother, do you know what that means ha Chloe. It means will be together a lot more than usual"

"Do you think I'm stupid? Of course I know that and I think its better actually. Your a dork who know fashion has talents ,hates liars and my mother likes you. And unlike those stupid and so called friends of ours I know who is better and real people and most of all you never gave up and loyal and that's hard to find"

"What about Sabrina?"

"She's was loyal to me of course then she suddenly believes everything Liela said and you know the rest"

"So all I need is to sign the contract and you'd help me?"

"Yup"

Marinette ponders a bit "Deal! As long as you are not allowed to call me anymore weird and awful nickname ,no more mocking, no more trash talk, be your real self with me and I have to read the contract first" and I reach my hand to her for her to shake

"Deal, so later after school come with me to the hotel" Chloe said with a real smile plaster on her face

While the 2 of them have a heart to heart talk someone's watching them from a far with a confused face but he dismissed it and just eat with his friends while trying to listen to what everyone's saying. This is for the better and when Marinette finally sees what he means everything will be back to normal and everyone's gonna be happy again. With that thought he had a funny weird smile on his face imagining his perfect world while plagg's busy trying to contact tikki or ladybug.

When lunch is over everybody's going back to their classroom. Marinette sits at the back without even giving a glance at her classmates then Chloe sits next to her and giving her a small smile. Everyone's shock of what just happened then just gossip with each other in hush tones about how weird its is which is still heard by Marinette and Chloe. Which they just ignore.

The class end everyone's starts packing there things then Alya stomps her way to the back of the class

"You!!! What do you think your doing?" She points aggressively at Marinette with a fierce glare.

"I'm packing my things"

"Don't be pretend you don't know! you threatened Lila in the bathroom"

"Why would I do that and when did I do that?"

"Your just a jealous bitch you know that ,Lila never did anything to you and you just can't stand that's she's more cooler than you"

"Alya you didn't answer me when did I threatened her?"

"At lunch, Lila said so!"

Marinette looks at Alya disbelievingly " How can a threatened her when you guys where with her all the time??"

"Are you calling Lila a liar?"

"No I'm telling you to use your head. Come on Chloe lets go" just before there leaving

"And why the hell are you hanging out with Chloe? Don't you remember your sworn enemies and don't you there bail on me again you are babysitting my sisters today!"

Marinette looked directly into her eyes then said "she is my friend and I'm not your slave so get away from me"

Alya was taken by surprise by the sudden coldness of Marinette eyes "No she's not and I'm your best friend "

"Are you really?"

"Yes !!"

"Then tell me when was the last time you called me or texted me?"

Alya smiled and directly opens her phone and looked ........" last night! I texted you multiple times you didn't answer me"

"Try calling me again"

Alya was skeptical but called her anyway

"Sorry the number you have dialed is invalid please try again"

Everyone was stunned at what the phone said. Alya called again and the same thing happened ,automatically the other students followed suite and called Marinette but the same result . Adrien tried to but no luck.

"If you are really my friend you would know that my phone brooked 3 weeks ago so would you excuse as we have some business to attend to"

With that both Chloe and Marinette left the classroom with their stunned classmates. before they even walk out of school Adrien stopped them

"That wasn't nice of you, I'm disappointed in you Marinette you are our everyday ladybug your supposed to make everyone feel safe and happy that's your job and it is your job to keep our classroom in order. didn't we already discussed this Lila is a liar but she never hurts anybody. you need to get your priorities straight do you want Lila to be akumatized again. I know you you are better than that"

While Adrian was taking he had forgotten that Chloe was their with them listening to every word he said.

"You knew and you didn't do or said anything at all you just let that slimy, ungrateful, psychopath wag her disgusting tongue about this and that and creating rumors tall tales about Marinette that isn't true and would most likely end her career in the future . don't you know the meaning of slander? or toxic friends?, abuse?. because as Marinette had said just now she's not anybody's slave she has her own life she can fucking do whatever she wants to do and you nor anybody in that classroom can say anything about it capisce.... so if I were you I would get my head out of my ass and wake up from that fantasy of yours because this is the real world …. come on Marinette we're leaving"

Chloe grabs Marinette's hand then pulled her into the limousine while leaving a stunned Adrien at the top of the stairs.

In the limousine:

"Thank you"

"No problem"

"Are you ok? I thought you like him?"

"I did but that was a long time ago . You?"

"Same"

Both *sign*

"At least know I have a really friend"

"Friend? You want to be friend's with me?"

"Yes and I already forgave you a long time ago so friends?"

"Friends... so tell me about that plan of yours" smiling evilly

While the 2 talk's Jean Chloe's butler smile at them and thanks the heavens above that now his mistress has a real friend and maybe she'll help her mend the rift between the mother and daughter.

Previous ~ Next

#ml au #adrien agreste #chloe's redemption #ml salt #marinette and damian #marinette x damian #miraclous ladybug #plans #marinette deserves better #marinette and chloe best friends #Done #chapter 1

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spacegaywritings · 4 years

Text

“All Time Low” - Bad Therapists have a special Place in Hell

Summary: Patton describes depressive episodes and being unable to live life. The therapist tells him it is okay and normal to feel sad and to stop being a wussy when Patton tells him life does not feel worth living at the moment.

Disclaimer: writing based on subjective experiences based on therapy, mental health issues and (LOCAL) stigmas. You might have better/worse/different experiences with your struggles and how they were perceived and treated. Your culture or surroundings might have different bias. This is for venting and does not objectively apply to everyone’s experience of their mental illness or struggles.

Tags: u! emile, bad therapists, mental health issues, depression, invalidating mental illness, suicidal thoughts, feelings of hopelessness/worthlessness, self-deprecation, no perspective, bad memory, worried family, worried doctors, shitty Emile lmao, depression being seen as lazy, drastic weight loss, implied self harm, implied suicide contemplation/plan, mentions of sex, mentions of pretence, repression, bad coping mechanisms, someone revoke the dude’s license lmao.

My KoFi - Support me ♥ or Commission me

Note: If you miss any tags, have issues with links or any other concerns, please feel free to contact me. Anon is on and my DMs are open.♥

Links broken? Inform me, please!

Overview of this series on tumblr / ao3.

Story under the cut ( Wordcount: ~2,1k)

Dull eyes took in the white walls framing the therapist’s office. Patton took in the sight before him. It felt as boring as life, as uneventful and tasteless.

Looking at these walls made him feel as if his state had gotten much worse. If it had not been for his general practitioner to send him over and for his daily life to become so unbearable to him, he would have stayed at home and just not have gotten up to this appointment. His family was being persistent. He did not think it was that important. He just wanted to sit it out in his bed and not do anything for a little bit longer.

“Hello there, Patton!”

A friendly face rushed in. It was just as blank as the walls to him. He tried to smile back at the person who beamed so nicely at him. His lips barely moved. He could taste the bitter bile of guilt taking up the back of his throat.

“Hello.”

The therapist narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, well, I have heard more cheery responses today. This is the first time we meet and you show up like this? A little disappointing~”

The singsang voice made Patton want to crawl back under his bed’s quilt. It smelled bad but only if he left his bed for long enough to realise the smell again. He had become dull to it like to anything else in life.

Might as well live in a stinky bed and a stinky life.

It was not like these words, as cheery as they sounded, could lift him up. They only pushed him deeper into the darkest corners of his own feelings.

“I- I’m sorry.”

Patton’s words were slow and he curled deeper into his big big hoodie. He had parked his greasy hair underneath the actual hoodie part of his clothing and he had messily put on some jogging pants. The pant’s legs were lanky around his own legs, even his thighs. They looked like he had taken his older brother’s pants to be his own and he had yet to “grow into it”.

It was at least comfortable enough for his body to drown in the gown and hide his pathetic existence away.

Not that this really mattered anyway.

“Oh, there there. It will be okay. I just made a little joke! You really are not up for the smiley treatment today, huh? Well, I am your therapist - Doctor Emile Picani! The reception said you are all good to go and I checked in your insurance card, too. Now, would you be so free to tell me what brought you here today?”

The adolescent shrugged his shoulders.

He was not worth the therapist’s time anyway. His thoughts were a soup made of dirt and grass and it revolved only about how he was stupid and selfish for going to the appointment made for him. He should have resisted harder and let someone in need have this session.

Still, a little bit of fire in him pushed him onto the couch as if to lay down or at least crawl as far away from the sunlight and the big, observant eyes of this world.

“I, uh.. my family thinks I need help”, he slowly explained. Emile was tempted to yawn. Even a turtle would be faster at walking than Patton was at speaking. This was going to be a long session, a stretching act like pulling at sweet, juicy gum.

“My doctor said I am, uh, losing weight. My family says I don’t have a perspective.”

His hands found their way to a little piece of crumbled paper in the front pocket of his hoodie. He slowly pulled it out, adjusting his round glasses.

“They wrote it down. Uh- I lost weight, don’t remember things and lose focus or something.. um, something about not doing anything, being really slow and uh.. they just said weird.”

Patton shrugged, sniffling a bit.

He tried not to cry at the note but a part of him had become apathetic enough for him to not break into tears. The world was better off without him anyway. He just wanted to go back and sleep or pretend to sleep in his little room.

Not interact with people, not be with anyone and disappoint them with his terribly low performance in life. His existence was enough failure already.

“Uhu.. they said you are being “weird”? Well, aren’t we all a bit weird sometimes! Are you dieting at the moment, perhaps increased the amount or intensity of exercise you are doing?”

The younger male shook his head.

“You did lose a lot of weight, though?”

A nod, this time.

The therapist hummed in thought, scribbling onto his clipboard.

“Now, how have you been feeling the last days?”

The client pulled his thin shoulders up in a shrug, his face slightly distorting into a weird expression. His nose seemed to turn upwards.

“Uh, I would say... not so .. great?”

Another shrug fell from his shoulders as he sighed.

“I just feel.. nothing, I guess. Or bad. Maybe.”

More shrugs were countered by Emile’s rapid nods.

“Alright. Have you been doing things these days? Did anything happen in your life? Maybe a breakup, maybe a loss in your family.”

Patton hugged himself, gently blowing through his heavy hair strands. The grease kept it down. The strands fell into his sight and covered his eyes but moving his hands seemed out of the question. He tried to blow it off again but the strands fell right into his eyes.

Well, he deserved that, probably. Not that fixing his hair was worth the effort.

His head shook itself.

“No. Graduated.. um.. “, he trailed off, his voice fading into hums.

Emile snapped his fingers to gain Patton’s attention.

“You graduated? Congratulations! Me too.”

Shoulders rose, barely as much as his chest rose with every breath he took.

“I guess... You made it to a phD, though. I just hang in my room..”

His lips twitched for a moment. Patton looked onto the floor. Always has been looking at the floor. He spared Picani the miserable sight of his whole face being exposed to him. Or even his soulless eyes. Oh no, he should spare anyone his own presence.

“Well, you can work on that! So, you are feeling bad a lot, don��t do anything and this has been ever since your graduation?”

This time, his shoulders as much as flexed as if to mimic the shrugs he did not have the energy to repeat once more.

“I don’t really.. no.. I guess graduation was my peak.”

The therapist nodded with the energy Patton lacked.

He hoped the other would gain something from this session. Maybe money. Yes, the insurance paid money for this.

“Oh, this looks pretty direct. You have issues with sadness”, he revealed, his emphasis on the sad part reminding Patton of puppets. Oh, he wished he was a child again. Full of life and enjoying simple puppet shows on TV.

“But! Sadness can be helped! You only have to do things again!”

Emile let his pen drop onto the clipboard and put his hands up, palms stretched out to face Patton.

“Things..?”

The therapist nodded, his tone alive, his body rising as he started pacing back and forth like a mad scientist discussing his ultimate invention. It was a great plan, a perfect plan! It had to be revealed because it was! Perfect! Perfect! Perfect! He was such a genius with his phD and his comfortable desk job!

“Yes!!!”, the doctor practically screamed back at him, “you have to make plans and structure your life and go out there again! Stop being so lazy and boring! You need to go out and stop sulking in the corner like a kicked dog! Nobody wants that!”

The dull blue eyes filled with water. They looked like wet buttons more than actual human orbs.

“I... nobody wants me?”

He felt like a child terribly reprimanded by their parents.

“Nobody! I promise. You are being a real party pooper but you can just change and be nice again, so people will stop feeling bad for you. You are blowing all of your feelings waaaay out for proportion!”

Emile’s hands moved to illustrate an invisible line that stretched the more his arms moved apart.

“Everyone feels a little sad sometimes. It is normal! It is important to recognise your feelings and move on. See the sadness? Call it sadness and move on. Work through it. If you have time to be sad, you have time to literally be doing anything else. Mental illness is a matter of having too much time. It is a luxury and you cannot afford this. Your family has been waiting for you to take flight like a bird! But you are staying at home, neither working or studying nor looking into any other things to do. Do you even do chores?”

Patton’s eyes were drowning in tears. His throat was tight and suffocating Patton in upcoming cries that were stuck enough for him to choke on his own sadness. His ears were covered by an overwhelming sound of static, muffling the sounds of his environment.

He was always on static.

This time, his heart seemed to stop and the tears burned pain into his face. The streaks they left were like whiplashes to his heart and he could feel himself barely able to breath.

Emile smiled, nodding.

“You are doing great, Patty! Really great! Feel the feelings, listen to your heart, listen to your pain and your thoughts - amplify it!”

He squatted before the crying creature like a motivational coach in gyms. His yelling made Patton cry harder as Emile instructed him to listen to his thoughts dragging him through the mud and sing songs of suicide and happy pills.

“Now stop.”

Patton looked up at him, petrified.

The therapist put his fingers close to his thumb as if to squeeze Patton’s will to live between them. Slowly, painfully so, the fingers inched closer until they met.

By then, his tears were gone and dried. The shock and messy anticipation too intense for him to wail further in his miserable feelings and adverse state.

“I want you to go out and put on some makeup if you want to, if you need to. Go and hook up with someone and feel like a person. Go out with friends, get drunk and take anything you can to make yourself happy. Go out there and make me happy, make yourself happy! You don’t need therapy to get over a little bit of heartbreak over graduating.”

He approached Patton, turning to make space for him. His movements asked Patton to get up but he felt too wonky and wobbly to even twitch or blink. Breathing was too much.

The therapist helped him up. It was a blur. He was patted on the back and internally, he wanted to cry at how ironic it was that he was Patton and got pats on the back.

Doctor Picani lead him to the door, spouting more nonsense about “going out more” being the cure to his issues.

He has never felt worse.

Patton slowly retreated to his family’s car and curled up. When he was asked how it went, he did not know how to respond and bit his tongue.

“You cried? I hope you got it all out, then. I am sure that helped a lot but I can be in contact with them if you need me to. Anyway, let’s go have some lunch.”

It was the last things Patton heard.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++ +++++ +++++ +++++

End Note: This is not how a therapist should treat you. If someone treats you or your issues like that, please make sure you leave immediately and report this. A real therapist will validate your concerns and try to redirect your thoughts. If you have mental health issues, please reach out for help. Depression and sadness can have several different causes. If you are worried about similar issues as the character depicted in the story, please try to keep a journal or a mood tracker to help yourself. It makes sense to contact a GP and work with a therapist and even psychiatrist if needed.

Please take care of yourself and don’t anyone call you lazy for having mental health struggles. Do not listen to depression or anxiety talking you down.

#Patton #patton sanders #ts patton #Patton mention #emile sanders #emile pacani #ts emile #Emile Picani #u emile #unsympathetic emile #fanfiction #fanfic #fanficion #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #depression #bad therapists #mind the triggers!!#joey writes

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nonbinaryresource · 4 years

Note

I am having a hard time with my cis het spouse. I'm AFAB but currently identify as non binary. First time I met my partner I told them I'm pansexual and till this day I am still that... but he can't see me the same way because he saw me as a cis woman and he has been saying he is straight but nothing in this marriage is really straight. I'm also pregnant and he has been projecting phobic things he is afraid i'll transition into someone who identifies as a man and or trans. I'm stressed out!

Wooooo. Okay. I don’t know that you even realize how hefty of an ask you sent in? Like… there’s so much going on here, and it’s no wonder you’re so stressed.

I’m going to get quite blunt further down in this ask, so please don’t read this until you’re fully mentally ready to hear what I have to say because it may not be what you particularly wanted to hear.

So, first things first, I just want to let you know that I’m thinking of you, I’m here for you, and I’m so sorry for the stress you’re under right now. Team You” to help you out right now - if not, work on building up a Team You as much as possible (see link for help in doing this).

Next, I think this is a lot bigger and a lot deeper than any advice column or anonymous tumblr can provide! I think you really need more support than a one-off ask or even a couple of asks. Please look around your area for some queer-friendly therapists (contact your local trans/queer org and ask for some help and if they have any recs) and get thee to a therapist ASAP. I know you have a lot going on with the pregnancy and everything else, so also know that online therapy sessions are often more accessible, cheaper, and come with more diverse options. So online therapy is also a fine option to pursue!

Please ask if your partner is open to going to couples counseling as well. (Not in place of singles therapy but in addition - and not with the same counselor acting in both regards! Again, ask a local trans/queer org if they have suggestions on queer friendly couples counselors.) Having a baby is a lot of pressure and stress and causes a lot of natural changes in a relationship. Many couples turn to couples counseling during pregnancy, and I think that it’s a really good idea for you two to do so as well. It sounds like you two need some help navigating this new stress (which is only going to increase when the baby actually arrives so start tackling it now!) and working on healthier communication.

It really sounds like your partner in particular needs to pursue some individual counseling for an appropriate avenue of processing their feelings, but you can’t control what someone else does. You can suggest he look into therapy and/or ask him to consider therapy, but at the end of the day, don’t get caught up in trying to force him to go to therapy. Get therapy yourself, hopefully get couples counseling, and work on building up your own personal boundaries and enforcing them with your partner (I’ll get into this more below).

Okay, my two cents on the situation…

You are worth standing up for.

There is a lot going on all at once, so I want to break them apart a bit and possibly making them more manageable.

Consider your own wants, needs, and desires

I’m sure you have considered these things and just found them not relevant to the ask, but if you haven’t, ask yourself:

“What, if any, transitional steps am I interested in?” You might only be interested in learning more about certain steps and not interested in pursuing them, at least not at this moment. That counts and is something to think about. Social transition is also something to think about - not just physical or medical.

“What support do I need in regards to my identity right now?” You’re not getting much support from your partner right now. Do you have friends/family you can lean on? Are you leaning on them? How about a larger queer community? Could you make a few PFLAG meetings? Do any other local trans/queer groups hold meetings or talks or events that you could participate in? Are there any queer groups on meetup.com for your local area? How much do you feel a part of any online communities?

“What are my boundaries about how much I can help my spouse process his feelings about my identity right now?” Boundaries are good!!! Boundaries are healthy!!! You do not have to engage in trying to convince your partner of your identity!!! You do not have to be the one who helps your partner work through his own bigotry regarding your identity!!! Decide what you can really, honestly, actually handle, and start laying down boundaries. Practice saying things like: “When you say [x] about my gender, it makes me feel invalidated and anxious. I need for you to change the subject and stop talking about this right now.” and “I am not the person who can help you process your fears about my potential transition. I need you to stop talking to me about this and find someone else to talk to.” Use them. You are not a bad partner or person for not being able to talk about this with your spouse. You might have soft boundaries for some things (”I hear your concern about this subject, but I’m not in the mental headspace to be able to have this conversation right now. I’ll let you know when I do feel up to talk about this.”) and hard boundaries for others (see previous suggestions). That’s also okay. Just make sure you are keeping your own mental health in mind and being honest with yourself - and your partner - about what you can handle.

Partner identifying as straight

Have you ever discussed this with your partner? It’s absolutely valid to talk to a partner about what their identity means to them - and what it means to you. We can’t force other people to label in certain ways, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a discussion about what the identity means to each of us or to ask if they would consider identifying in a way that’s more inclusive of your identity.

It may be that a conversation can clear up how a partner sees their own identity and makes you feel better about how you’re included in their sexuality. Or it may be that a partner doesn’t realize exactly how much this is weighing on you. Or maybe it’s something a partner has been thinking about but was afraid to bring up.

No relationship can survive - and definitely can’t flourish - without open and honest respectful communication, which means that everybody feels they have a safe space to talk and everyone is actually heard when they do talk.

This is something that is significantly bothering you and sounds like it may have been bothering you for a while. Therefore, it’s something that absolutely deserves attention.

(This is something that would be good to talk about in the presence of a queer-friendly couples counselor rather than on your own, if at all possible, considering your partner’s current reactions to your gender.)

Partner’s cissexist comments

I basically covered this under boundaries in my first bullet point, but it bears repeating because this is super important.

A) You are not the right person for your partner to process these fears with.

B) You’re pregnant!!! Stress impacts your health as it is and being pregnant increases the risks you can face when under high stress. Not only are you not the right person for your partner to process these fears with, this is really not the right time for your partner to be trying to process these fears with you.

Regardless of whatever therapy you do or do not pursue, please instate boundaries around these comments ASAP. Tell your partner that he needs to stop dumping this on you. If he forgets or ignores your boundary: put in headphones, walk away, call a friend. Do not spend time getting sucked into any more discussions or arguments about his fears. Decide on a boundary and uphold it.

Is it reasonable to discuss your own desires regarding transition with your partner? Yes, of course, that’s absolutely something that should be able to happen. But don’t think you sharing that is the same as him pestering and bothering you and making inappropriate comments about his fears regarding what transitional steps you may or may not take. An actual conversation regarding this cannot happen until he’s able to sort through his own fears and actually hear anything you might have to say. So, for now, just shut it down. He needs to go elsewhere, preferably a good therapist, to process his fears regarding this and spend some time getting more educated on trans issues so he can approach this conversation in an educated and genuine manner, before any more conversations about this happen with you.

Seriously consider ALL of your options regarding this relationship

I get it.

You’re married to this person and pregnant.

I’m sure you’ve had a lot of good times with your partner.

I’m sure you love your partner very, very much.

I’m sure your partner loves you very, very much and that you otherwise feel supported by your partner.

I’m sure you’re thinking about the support your baby will need as well as the support you’ll need, both while pregnant and afterwords with a newborn.

Maybe you’re even thinking that the pregnancy is stressful and things will calm down when the baby comes (but babies also put lots of stress on relationships!).

But the way your partner is treating you right now is straight up not okay. This relationship right now? Has a ginormous, gaping, huge crack in it. You cannot be in a truly healthy and happy and supportive relationship with someone who is denying your identity and pressuring you to perform/act/be/look a certain way. And it’s absolutely not better for you or the baby to raise a child in an environment with a ‘partnership’ like this. Please don’t downplay how harmful and upsetting your partner’s behavior is because you’re married and pregnant and love them and have been otherwise treated well. It’s okay to admit how much your partner is upsetting you and pressuring you and stressing you out. In fact you need to be able to admit that if you’re going to get to be honest with your partner about how you feel and the state of your relationship and the potential future of this relationship.

Regardless of what you end up deciding to do, I need you to start considering all your options just to be sure you really know and understand what they all are and that they’re all actually open to you.

Yes, one option includes divorcing your partner (and figuring out how to coparent with him at the same time).

I know! That’s scary and not what you want to do. I’m not asking you to do it. I’m only asking you to consider it.

Consider this not because it’s 100% what you should do (I don’t know 100% what you should do - I don’t think life really works like that and I think the best thing to do is always the thing you actually, freely get to choose to do) but so that you know it’s an option, you’re prepared if it’s the option you have to take, and to help give perspective to other options you have.

Think of what you’d need logistically and financially to move forward with a separation (who would get wherever you’re presumably living together and who would have to move? do you have family or friends you could stay with? what financial support would you need to make separation viable? does this change whatever plans you had to stay home and/or return to work? could you rely on family to help with childcare? would you need to interview for a nanny? what daycare options are available to you? do you have a bank account in just your own name with some money in it - if not, could you set this up now?). You don’t have to contact a divorce lawyer. Just think about what leaving would actually entail and realize that it would be hard, incredibly hard, and heartbreaking, but it would also be doable. Break it into small chunks and handle what you can.

Another option, of course, is staying.

Consider what it would mean for you to stay and - more importantly - what you need in order to stay.

Do you need your partner to agree to therapy (individual and/or couples) in order to feel safe and comfortable staying? Do you not need your partner to agree to therapy (even if you’d like it) but just need him to agree to stop dumping his trans-related fears on you? Do you need your partner to go to some PFLAG meetings and educate himself more on trans/nonbinary/queer issues? If you have been considering any form of physical/medical transition, is that something you’re willing to withdraw as an option for yourself? What can you do to support your partner and what do you need him to do to support you (and what does he feel he needs from you in support and what does he feel he can give you in support)?

Basically, it comes down to: you are not obligated to accept this shitty treatment towards you, not for any reason. What do you need in order to stay - and what are you willing to do if those needs aren’t met?

That was a lot to take in. You’re under a lot of stress and pressure right now. Please make sure you’re taking care of yourself. Lean on your support system. Ask them for help!!! I’m sending you good vibes and wishing you nothing but the best. I hope it turns out well.

~Pluto

#mod pluto #nonbinary #long post #relationships #exorsexism #cissexism #transphobia #answered #ask #asked #anonymous #substitute pflag for whatever applicable org if you don't have a pflag

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weirdcultstuff · 4 years

Text

Unrelatable Ex-Amish Feelings

Just a note: The specific group I grew up in was an extreme group, with a cult leader. I tried my best not to include things that I think might be specific to the cult I was in, but I can only write from my own experiences, so some of this might not be universal to all leaving-amish experiences. :)

1. Despising Beverly Lewis books. Despising that TLC ‘Breaking Amish’ show. And if I hear one more time about ‘the amish mafia’ I swear I’m throwing something.

2. Seeing strangers with head-coverings or large families and no longer getting that instant mutual bond, because you are out of context to them now.

3. Rolling your eyes at the ‘Amish Made!’ signs.

4. The cognitive dissonance overload.

5. Critical thinking skills? Who is that?

6. Not having an identity as an individual.

7. (If you’re a girl) working caretaking and cleaning jobs. (If you’re a guy) farming, landscaping, and construction.

8. *I’M GOING TO HELL! I’M GOING TO HELL! I’M GOING TO-*

9. Going P.I.M.O. with your also shunned family, because they’ve joined another group that you don’t want to be in either.

10. Purity culture hangover, can’t make eye contact!!

11. Saying “Mr.”, “Mrs.”, “Professor”, “Dr.”, etc. feels like a direct insult instead of being respectful.

12. Not being able to say “Ich liebe die” to friends because it sounds so much more real and serious than “I love you.” In fact, having tons of language confusion and general work to do on your English.

13. *They’re English, they wouldn’t understand how Amish do anyway.*

14. Just. Not being able to explain anything. Ever. It feels like living in two completely different realms of existence, having been amish and not-amish.

15. The shame of buying something at an amish place and being recognized, and offered the things for free since amish don’t do business with shunned amish.

16. People thinking they understand amish culture because they “grew up around baptists.” Like, I guess?? I understand what you mean? But also no.

17. Despising almost any depiction of the amish in mainstream media, and not being able to articulate how it’s all such skewed perspective, and not knowing how to communicate things properly or make it better. Frustrating!!!!

18. Fighting not to have that Penn Dutch accent and thinking it makes you sound dumb.

19. Being the only kid at your college who knows how to clean and cook and sew and keep house.

20. Missing the cows. Missing the garden. Missing making hay. Missing your friends. Missing your family. Missing taking care of babies. Missing working with people who genuinely like to work. Missing tomato sandwiches. Missing the singing. Missing, missing, missing. Parts of you are missing.

21. Freaking out about every possible aspect of clothes and what to wear.

22. (If you’re a girl) panic attacks about giving presentations in school because *women must be silent, and shouldn’t teach men, and business casual means you can’t even cover your head and who is even giving me the authority to do this?*

23. Not knowing how a parking meter, or a vending machine, or maybe an online bank account works and having to ask for help and just feeling so, so, so small and stupid.

24. Being 100% completely clueless about LGBTQ+ terminology or issues, and accidentally coming off as homophobic.

25. Realizing you accidentally came off as homophobic (or sexist, or racist, or ableist, etc.) after learning more words and stuff, and feeling really worried and ashamed about it.

26. Boundaries? What are boundaries?

27. *What do I do with my hair? I don’t look normal.*

28. Not understanding computers. Even after learning how to use computers, not understanding things intuitively like all the other kids who grew up with them.

29. Getting real freakin’ excited about how easy life becomes with electric washing machines and cars and electric heaters.

30. Getting in abusive relationships and getting taken advantage of because you have no idea what a healthy relationship looks like.

31. Feeling alone. Like you’re the only one doing this.

32. Wanting to go back. Missing home, and familiarity, so much.

33. Feeling nostalgic about the good old days when you had any kind of idea of what was going on ever.

34. Missing 100% of pop-culture references.

35. The internalized sexism. (If you’re a girl) just automatically deferring to any men in the vicinity.

36. Wearing clothes that are too big. In muted colors. Without many prints. And feeling very self-conscious about it all. Hoping you don’t run into any amish people in public because they’ll see from your clothes how far you’ve backslid, how much sin you’re living in.

37. Not knowing how the government works. Or voting. Or welfare.

38. Automatically denying and defending any abuse that happened, because *amish are right and the church is right and talking about abuse with english people is only going to prevent them from seeing the truth and the light.*

39. Bristling when people treat you like your life previous to shunning just didn’t matter or didn’t really happen. Newsflash, world, people who have lived lives different from yours still spend all of their lives in ‘the real world’ same as you.

40. *If I just married an amish man, or even a mennonite, this would all go away. Things would make sense again.*

41. What is evolution? What is anything? Is God real?

42. *If I picked the wrong way, and I know I picked the wrong way, then I’m going to hell. I’m going to hell. I’m going to hell. I’m going to-*

43. *I’m being taken captive by strange philosophy. I’m being taken captive by the world. I’m being given over to a reprobate mind for the destruction of the flesh. I’m too far in, I can’t see what’s right or good anymore. I’m going to hell.*

44. Hey, look! You have a favorite color now.

45. “Guys, I’m not Amish. There is not an Amish person alive who would say that I’m Amish. Stop calling me Amish.” *I’m also not ‘english’ though.*

46. *I’m a bad witness. I’m living a sinful life. I’m shaming my family.*

47. Not trusting the government. Not trusting the school system. Not trusting the healthcare system. Not trusting anyone who isn’t amish, not really.

48. Finding out there’s more kinds of ‘english’ music than rock music.

49. Meeting people who have never heard of the amish and just....not being able to compute that.

50. Collecting kitsch. Just ‘cause you can.

51. Switching back and forth from wanting LOTS OF FLAVORS AND COLORS AND LIGHTS AND FABRICS AND MUSIC AND WORDS AND VIDEOS AND BOOKS AND- and wanting to just sit in a dark room with the lights low, doing mending or something normal because it’s all just overload and it’s making your head spin.

52. Amish people invalidating your experience. Non-Amish people invalidating your experience. *Nobody understands, I’m all alone, everyone thinks I’m crazy.*

53. Instinctive fear and disgust towards halloween things. This is what worldliness is, this is all demonic. None of it looks cute. Except that baby dressed up like a hot dog, she’s so cute.

54. Not understanding how non-amish people view animals and pets as practically members of the family instead of mildly interesting or useful outdoor things. Then missing your siblings so much and being so touch starved that when you’re at a friends’ house and their cat sits on your lap you feel positively glowing and warm inside, and you finally ‘get it.’

55. *What church do I go to? Am I mennonite now? Am I baptist? Am I Christian? I have to be a Christian, obviously. Where do I belong? Who do I belong to?*

56. Not understanding equality, even if you think it’s right.

57. Doing ANYTHING your boss tells you to, being a massive pushover until you slowly learn the difference between aggression and standing up for yourself, and then learn how to actually stand up for yourself.

58. People assuming you’re stupid because you don’t know stuff they learned in grade school. You assuming other people are stupid because nobody taught them the stuff you learned as a kid.

59. The moment when you realize that you actually have a lot to give up now, if you go back. And you actually have an identity, you’re a person. Kinda glitchy and buried under a mountain of trauma, but you’re a person.

60. Finding therapy. Finding friends. Finding the internet. Finding other people who have been through hard things too and connecting with them over the things you have in common and your shared support for each other in the things you don’t. Healing, growing. Coming to a point where things feel possible.

It’s a wild ride. But it’s worth it. Hang in there, friendo. <3

#shunned #leaving amish #amish #ex cult #ex anabaptist #ex religious #deprogramming #deconversion #this is me

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adrienaline-rushed-art · 5 years

Note

(For the character ask) Adrien Agreste!!

YOU CHOSE MY SON! you’d better prepare your noodles because I’ve got a lot to gush about my favorite boy

Why I like them: From the beginning, he was my very favorite character because he was a weird combination of someone I was close to as well as myself. Although, over time it’s been more and more about relating to him as opposed to seeing someone else in him. At the time that he first became a reminder of someone special, he got me out of a depressive state, and continues to do so!

I love what a genuinely good listener he is. He’s very considerate and respectful, he puts others before himself— though, Ladybug can tell you why that is also a flaw.

I like to think about the scenes in Horrificator when his classmates kept fighting, but he— one of the leads —didn’t make any input to take sides. Not even for Nino, his best friend! But he did look really upset to see his friends arguing

He’s also very forgiving and patient, I mean… as annoying as Lila can be, he actually tries to understand and help her. And what he said in onichan is implied to be correct based on the beginning of the episode.

He got it on the head, and not only for the sake of excusing bad behavior, he can relate. He knows he’s gone out of line because of his loneliness and abandonment issues. He excused Lila for the same reason in season 1

Defending Lila for lying about her relationship with Ladybug (See ‘Copycat’)

He definitely understands what’s bad behavior (as opposed to Lila and Chloe, he does remain selfless and kind) and when he doesn’t he gets to use this sympathy as an opportunity for learning. But he also knows a cry for help when he sees one, he doesn’t want anyone to feel the way he does.

The only real downside is it makes him a doormat for Lila, Chloe, and most importantly his father. But he’s learning and I’m so happy for him.

he’ll accept a rough relationship for the sake of helping you be better through kindness until it hurts his loved-ones, where he absolutely has to cut you off. That’s one thing he doesn’t relate to or believe in. When he knows he messed up and hurt someone, he didn’t mean it, so he apologizes.

But you can see in his face that he doesn’t feel good doing it, because although it doesn’t excuse toxicity, he knows that the person’s pain is why they act that way.

It’s still for his friends more than himself, but I’ll take it for now. The biggest flaw he has is also one of his sweetest traits, believing in the best out of everyone. He’s at least learning that you can’t always assume someone doesn’t mean any harm.

Also:

fcKing suPERB adrien

I also like his sensitivity. He isn’t trying to be the cool and mysterious type, he’s emotional, passionate, and caring. This vulnerability can also be his downfall at times, but he carries his weight and makes himself responsible for his mistakes, so he’s an excellent example to kids. He’s a good boy in a world of romanticized “bad boys”.

Favorite episode (scene if movie): I can’t really say, I’m bad at choosing favorites. Really any scene he’s in— especially as Chat Noir —immediately makes me happy. Scenes of his that are sad or frustrating don’t make me happy in the sense that I like what’s happening, but the rush of emotions I get when I get to watch him interact with other characters and just be.. him… brings a certain type of joy? The fact that when he’s sad, I’m really sad… I don’t know, it’s a nice feeling. Don’t @ me but 2 years ago in my baby project, I named the baby Adrien, because I’ve adopted him and he is my son.

I guess I really like him in riposte? He was very soft in that episode, he was all giggly and blushy. Also, Gigantitan, Chris Master, and Sapotis? He’s so good with kids! Chat Noir got a lot of lines in Silencer (hA) and I thoroughly enjoyed that, he was such a dork. Weredad was just a masterpiece, we got to explore his thoughts toward Marinette too so that was cool. So it really comes down to any episode that he shines the brightest, the more screen time and dialogue the better. I WANT to learn MORE about him.

None of these are favorite episodes of all time I don’t think? It’s just my favorite moments for him I guess. Gigantitan might be a good example for an episode that fits on both lists, though. We saw a lot of different sides to him. We got to see Marinette comfort Chat Noir when he finally admitted his heartache, he finally admitted his frustrations with Gabriel to Nathalie (although she would have known without him saying), and I actually liked seeing Chat Noir’s petty side directed to Ladybug. No, I didn’t like that he was being unfair, but everyone has this type of moment in their life because we’re human, which is why it was SO great to see him like this.

He’s messing up? Fantastic! And it was so intriguing to see how he behaved when he finally snaps, particularly toward Ladybug. We hadn’t seen him lash out toward a friend— let alone a romantic interest —at this point. He really needed to unleash those emotions, and I’m glad he didn’t keep them bottled up any longer. He was having a garbage day to begin with, I wouldn’t be able to stand watching him brush it off.

It wasn’t fair to Ladybug, but it was perfectly fair to himself. Ladybug said she couldn’t hang out because she was with friends, sure! From his perspective, what does that look like? Well, we got to understand it thanks to this episode. Think to what happens to him later in the episode, he’s unable to spend time with his friends. There might be a tinge of jealousy toward that. Or maybe it’s that the phrasing made it sound like Chat Noir wasn’t a friend, which adds up to his relief at the end of the episode when Ladybug calls him a best friend. But also, the excuse wasn’t satisfying to him because clearly, he had intended to put both friends and Ladybug in his schedule, why couldn’t she do the same? I’m not saying this is logical thinking, but it’s interesting to step back and realize that it’s entirely likely he thought this way. And it all makes sense that he cherishes being with her more than any romantic future with her, because the fact he didn’t get angry when he heard about her “boy”, but he did when it came to her friends.

And, a little Ladybug appreciation, she didn’t invalidate those feelings. He’s not allowed to act up and ruin an akuma fight, but he is allowed to feel that way. I mean, it was a little mean to suggest fake dating right after brushing off a real one. But he realized how inappropriate the timing was, and apologized for it. And taking his humility a step further, he went with Ladybug’s original (arguably tortuous) plan, and disciplined himself during it. He didn’t try to take advantage and get all smoochie and cuddly on her. He offered his hand, but she’s the one who came to him and kissed him on the cheek. He let her create the boundaries. Later, he kissed her on the cheek for the first time.

Anyway sorry for that entire essay, but as you can tell I really loved that episode front and back.

Favorite season/movie: I think since we only have two and a half seasons, I can only say season 2 for now. I say season 2 because it’s where we first uncover more of Adrichat, not only to ourselves but to Marinette. He’s been really cute in S3 so far though, so my opinion could always change.

Favorite line: Any of his laughs. Ok fine, an actual line… uhh.. you know what, he’s said a lot of very profound and sweet things… so how about something stupid and random

“Wanna hear a secret? I love chouquettes.” You sure do, you little dork.

Favorite outfit: That purple/maroonish and green one on one of his magazine covers.

OTP: Marichat, always. Ladynoir close second. If we’re talking outside of canon, probs Alyadrien.

Brotp: Nino, obviously, they’re phenomenal.

Head Canon: Maybe this is less of a headcanon, and more of an excuse for the writing.. but I don’t think Adrien is that oblivious. But as someone who’s forgiving, it would make sense that he also doesn’t assume things that could hurt them. For one, he denies Marinette likes him simply because she seems to have implied she doesn’t. He takes her word for it.

Notice that almost every time it comes up, it’s not denying his own feelings, and he’s not even denying the “signs”. He just doesn’t want to put words in her mouth or ruin their friendship by jumping to conclusions that could put distance between them. It makes sense that he would want to protect their friendship because of how they met.

Unpopular opinion Adrien is not a mary sue. First, I’ve already mentioned plenty of flaws in this post. Having no flaws is one side of a mary sue, the other side is being overpowered. So what if he’s in a bunch of clubs and has essentially mastered all of them. Stress on essentially, so far we know he can play one(1) classical piece on the piano and he messed up on it (it was a small mistake because of skipping practice, but a True™ mary sue wouldn’t have). Also… I’m sure he’s fluent in Chinese and Japanese, but he could be pronouncing better. Actually, that’s unfair, the French dub did pretty well for Japanese pronunciation and everyone knows French is more canon. I don’t know enough about Chinese to judge his pronunciation of it. We don’t know much about his sports except that he’s good at them, but we know Kagami kicks his ass at fencing apparently, so still not overpowered. Anyhow, these are just talents and skills. Not only can anyone learn them with effort (because he isn’t a prodigy at any of them), but it’s realistic that the famous model son of the strict CEO and founder to the prestigious fashion company Gabriel would be forced to have a full tool belt. Not to mention he’s a model in the acting business (Animaestro) actors legit have to know how to do EVERYTHing to even compete with others. None of the above has to do with power though.

If anything, he’s underpowered. He’s not treated very well for a teammate who isn’t a sidekick. Often his intellect, wisdom, rationale, skills, and agility have been compromised for the sake of making ✦Ladybug✦ look good. Which, is sort of counter-intuitive if you think about it. We know this from the inconsistencies between episodes. One episode he’s decoding morse, giving Ladybug advice, making detailed plans, or showing off his expert-level martial arts… the next he’s… accidentally grabbing an ice cream cone while Cataclysm is activated? hmmm. ALso, as stated before, Adrien’s intelligence is suppressed for the advancement of the plot.

A wish: I want more Ladynoir discussions outside of akuma battles. Regarding things like the Dark Cupid kiss.. there are a lot of things I want them to straighten out and grow on.

And, I think this is going to happen anyhow… but like,,, he needs to find out about the scarf, I’m sorry. I know it’ll be bittersweet but,,ghhhgk

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: *INHALES* pleASe, Emilie, be a good person!! ALSo, NO FIGHTS WITH NINO. EVER.

5 words to best describe them: Patient, dorky, loving, childlike (not childish), brave

My nickname for them: heeheh, it’s my blog name title, Paw Prince.

I wrote you a whole book, my bad. I don’t regret it though. Now you know why it took me so long to answer.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug sugar #adrien agreste #ml headcanon #ml sugar #ask #anonymous #cass answers #long post

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