#i have high anxiety and hate capitalism too
Text
every stromae song he’s just like “shout out to my girls with high anxiety who hate capitalism”. he fucking gets it.
#stromae#i can't wait to see him on december 6th!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#text post#i have high anxiety and hate capitalism too#i don't unhealthily parasocially attach to celebrities like i did as a teenager (good for me) but he makes me like. have flashbacks.#remember like 8 years ago when fangirls were calling every grown man they felt precious about their son? yes that's me#my son. babygirl.#also stans who call famous grown men 'babygirl.' i have nothing against you but i just need to remind you that 8 years ago that'd have been#your son. those two stan terms occupy the same niche. we need to talk about it#culture. never. dies.
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
Silk Chiffon (why wouldn't it be?)
Robin Buckley x Nancy Wheeler
Summary: Robin can read Nancy like her favourite book, it just takes her a few tries to get the translation right.
Warnings: coming out, demisexual Nancy, anxiety about the future ad regrets from the past. first kiss, love confessions
a/n: i know demisexuality wasn't coined till like 2004/2008 (depending on the source) but it just fits here and so I'm using it
word count: 2k
Robin can tell something is up. They’re trying to sleep, laying side by side in her twin bed, Robin facing her while she stares up at the ceiling. Eyes open, hands interlocked and laying on her stomach, her breathing is a little too fast. Like her thoughts are racing and therefore, her heart must be, too.
“Do you want to talk?” Robin whispers.
Nancy lets out a deep sigh, “no… but yes.”
“You can tell me anything,” she reminds her. After all they’ve been through, there’s nothing Robin can’t handle now.
“Can I ask you a question?”
She nods, “yeah, of course.”
She scoots a little closer to Nancy as she turns to face robin, inches from her face now, so her whispers can’t be heard by anyone else. “Are you… asexual?”
“What? No?” Robin’s absolutely shocked by that. “Why would you think I am?”
“Cause Steve hits on anything with a pulse and you’ve never gotten with him. You’re so adamant that you’re platonic with a capital P and he obviously would respect you if you turned him down but like… you guys don’t flirt. Steve flirts with everyone, but not you?” She explains, rambling a bit which is so unlike her.
“He did try and tell me he had a thing for me… when we were high, after the Russian’s… but I uh, I um, I’m—” she tries to swallow, to get some moisture back in her mouth. Terrified that this is where the friendship dies. This is why she never had sleepovers before. Telling someone the truth after spending so many nights side by side can only end one way. Disgust. Betrayal. Being kicked out and humiliated in the middle of the night.
“Robin,” she reaches out and soothes her hand over her shoulder and down her arm. “It’s okay.”
She takes a deep breath, nodding slightly. “I’m a lesbian.”
“That’s wonderful,” Nancy smiles at her. “I’m proud of you for telling me… I love that you trust me.”
Robin feels like crying but she doesn’t, she just lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding for so long, “thank you. Really.”
“How did you know?” Nancy asks. “Like, did you always know or did it sneak up on you?”
“Oh, I uh, I always knew,” she explains. “Like… when all the other girls were swooning over boys, I was so disgusted by it. My mom thought I was just a late bloomer but then, then I got a crush. I didn’t think it was a crush but the more I thought about it, the more I was so worried I was just obsessed with her. Like a freak.”
“That’s how I felt about Steve at first,” she explains. “But that’s just because I thought that was what you were supposed to do when you like someone.”
“Yeah, it feels so intense you just want to look at them and be near them and—and relate to them, so you become who they want to get closer to them and you lose a bit of yourself,” Robin rants. “I hate it. I wish someone would like me for me, that someone could see me for who I really am and stay who they really are and we can stay happy together.”
“I want that too,” she sighs.
“We’ll find it,” Robin gives her a little smile.
“Would it be okay for me to tell you a secret now?”
“Why wouldn't it be?”
“When I was touring the campus in Boston, mom went to find a payphone so she could call home and see if Holly was okay… I went to the store to get a sweater but I ended up finding all the textbooks for each course and—and I bought the book for the human sexualities class,” she explains. “And I read it all.”
“Can I read it next?” Robin asks, thinking nothing of it. Nancy loves to learn, there’s nothing wrong with that.
“Yeah, it’s just…” she bites her lip for a second. “Have you ever heard of demisexuality?”
She shakes her head, “no.”
“The way the book described it is basically someone who only develops sexual feelings for someone or enjoys and initiates sex with someone who they’re emotionally close with,” she explains.
“Makes sense,” Robin nods along. “So, is that why you asked if I’m asexual?”
She nods, “Yeah… and because I think that’s me.”
“Oh?”
“With Steve, the first time was so— not bad, but uncomfortable. I wanted to, at least I thought I did. I thought lying to your parents and going to a boy's house to drink beer and have your first time was such a normal teenage girl thing to do that I did it. But I didn’t enjoy myself—
“Most girls don’t the first time,” Robin validates her feelings. “I’m not saying you’re not demisexual, I’m just saying that’s normal.”
“I know it is, but… then I kept dating Steve. I did fall in love with him, he was a good friend to me and the sex did get better, which I know you don’t want to hear about but—
“I don’t mind,” she giggles slightly. “I always knew he wasn’t as good as he bragged to be.”
Nancy laughs too, “he was good. It just took me a while to initiate it and have fun and then there was Jonathan. It was so different with him, that first time was so good. It was months of building a friendship and an understanding that bubbled to the top and it was wonderful. But then it died. As we drifted apart, as he stopped being my best friend, the longer we weren’t together, the harder it was to keep loving him.”
Robin nods, “And that happened with Steve too?”
“No. No, it faded with Steve because of Jonathan. Like, I have a one-track mind when it comes to love and whoever my best friend is at the time is the only person I want to be with. And I hate myself for that,” she explains.
“You were also a teenage girl, I mean, you still are,” Robin talks her off the ledge. “You’re 18. You don’t need to have all the answers and be 100% perfect all the time. I mean there are adults in their 30s and 40s who cheat and ruin families all the time, you’re not like that. You have time to learn who you are and what you like and be truly loved. It’ll be okay.”
Nancy starts to cry a bit, “I don’t think it will…”
“Hey,” Robin moves in closer, pulling her in against her chest, she runs her hand over Nancy’s back. “You will. You are loved. Very loved.”
“That’s why I’m so scared. I don’t want to lose this,” she whispers, her voice smaller than it’s ever been. She hugs Robin so close, “If I love you… if we get together just to go to different colleges and spend days not talking, it’ll dwindle and die like everything else and I can’t lose you. You’re my favourite friend I’ve had in a long time.”
“So that’s why you asked… cause if I was asexual we couldn’t hook up and you wouldn’t lose me,” Robin pieces it all together.
She just nods against her, “I have loved this time so much. I love how we talk about everything. I love how we can do nothing and still enjoy it because we're together. I love that life with you is so easy and fun and—and I just love you.”
Robin simply kisses the top of her head before resting her cheek against her, “I love you too… but unlike those two idiots, I’m not going to let the best girl I’ve ever known in my whole life just walk away. You’re going to get sick of me. I’m going to call you in Boston, and I’m going to come visit when I can, we’ll be home for Thanksgiving, Christmas and spring break and if you get a summer internship in Boston, I can come out there for the summer. If I get to love you, to really love you, I’m making it work for the long run.”
“Is Steve going to be okay with it?” She worries more.
Robin just laughs, “Yeah, seeing as he’s had to listen to me pine over you for months now, he knows. He’s okay… he has someone special of his own now. I’ll let him tell you who, but he’s okay. He’s moved on. We’re allowed to be happy.”
Nancy lets out a relieved laugh, holding Robin even tighter. “Oh my god, it feels so good to tell you. I have been thinking about this for weeks. Months maybe.”
“You have a killer poker face then,” Robin teases. “I thought you were so straight.”
“I did too,” Nancy whispers, adjusting her head so she’s closer to Robin’s throat. She gives her a little kiss, “Then I spent a week with you and something brewed and all I could think about was seeing you again, and talking to you again and kissing you to get you to shut up.”
Robin laughs, “Yeah, that’s one way to do it.”
Nancy straddles her, a knee on both sides of her hips, her arms wrapped around her middle, she keeps kissing the side of her neck. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.”
“I’ve never been kissed before,” Robin admits. “I’ve never done anything, before… I’m not sure I’m ready to just jump into it, either.”
“I’m not ready for that either,” Nancy agrees, holding her tighter for a moment before she props herself up on her hands and leans over her. Her hair dangling down in Robin's face, she reaches up to push her hair back behind her ear. “But I would like to kiss you.”
“Please?” Robin all but begs.
Balancing on one hand, Nancy cups her face gently, rubbing her thumb over Robin’s cheek. She leans in slowly, savouring the moment, building anticipation before it happens.
One touch, 4 lips meet, one explosion, 2 lives better in an instant.
Suddenly, all at once, she understands the big bang. How something so small could create so much. She understands every love song and poem, every painting and sculpture… every depiction of the world from a lens of love and happiness and longing and belonging.
The kiss deepens, and she follows Nancy’s lead because she knows what she’s doing. Sure, she’s seen enough movies to get the gist of making out, but there’s something so different about experiencing it firsthand. The way her tongue feels so right against her own, how their lips move in tandem like they were programmed this way… how Nancy slips from her perch and rests her body weight on her and Robin's hands instinctively wrap around her and she holds her there.
Nancy brushes her hair back a few times, trying to get it out of Robin’s face and stop it from tickling her, but it keeps falling back down. Eventually, Robin misses the feel of her hand on her cheek, so she gathers Nancy’s hair in her hands and holds it as if her fist was a ponytail. To her surprise, Nancy just hums against her, thanking her while her tongue is in Robin's mouth.
She never wants this to end.
She could make out with Nancy for the rest of her life if she was allowed. They could never leave this bed again for all she cared. She would give up every early pleasure for Nancy’s.
When Nancy does eventually pull away, it’s just a millimetre before she rests her forehead against robins. She’s breathing just as deep as Robin, flushed and craving more but they said they wouldn’t. They can’t. It needs to be more special than in the middle of the night in the Wheeler’s house with people on either side of her walls and across the hall.
“I love you,” Nancy whispers.
“I love you,” she whispers right back. “There’s no getting rid of me now. You’re stuck with me, I hope you understand that.”
Nancy just giggles that beautiful giggle. “Good.”
General Taglist
@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22
#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#ronance#ronance smut#ronance fluff#stranger things smut#robin buckley smut#nancy wheeler smut#ronance fanfic#ronance fanfiction#ronance imagine#ronance au#ronance fic#ronance endgame
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!
Summary: the one where going back to your hometown is never a good idea.
Rating: +18
Warnings: pure angst (w/ a happy ending), derogatory language, psychological trauma, negligent parents, mentions of abuse, anxiety, depression, mentions of teen pregnancy, ab*rtion, self-harm, addiction and ending your own life
Word count: 8.5k
Note: it’s a very loooong and heavy fic, all the possible triggers are mentioned above, so please see them before you read this one, because it has a lot of uncomfy moments. I wrote it originally around christmas (so themed fanfic?), also available in my ao3.
masterlist
The cold wind whipped against her body and she shivered slightly, the city was colder than expected. She looked around, people walking, chatting; she knew most of them, many had not changed at all since leaving the city for a better life. Since the day she finished high school, she swore she would never set foot in that city again, yet there she was. The only cousin she still considered family, recently had her second child, so the relative begged her to spend some time together; as she was busy, the only time off she could extend was precisely during the holidays.
Going back to that city gave her the creeps, she didn't like to remember everything she'd been through here. Still, she would never deny a request coming from her cousin, since whenever her relative had time, she would go visit her in London.
Her story was a complicated one. A high school plagued with problems at home - her parents never stopped fighting and consequently all the marital problems reflected on her, physically and psychologically. Several times she wished the world would take her away from that suffering. Not only that, but inside the school she was excluded, considered as stupid and someone who would not have a promising future, as a girl who only served the body, since the mind was empty. Boys cheated on their girlfriends with her, turned her into an inside joke, while girls hated her for everything. It was all jokes and games until she got pregnant when she was 16. Her parents freaked out, Christmas that year was terrible, her father's screams were so loud that the neighbours could hear his swearing.
She managed to get to London, going to a public clinic and begging the secretary to have the procedure done without her parents' permission, then she would just use the excuse of having had a miscarriage. That night on December 24th, sitting on the curb, looking at the Christmas lights in the big city, she had promised she would live there.
Until she turned eighteen, she tried to be erased from other people's memories of the city, just doing the school-home commute, doing all the endless chores demanded by her father - since her mother was too busy with her face stuffed into a glass of wine, and making enough money to get out of there through nights working as a cleaner at the roadside diner. It wasn't glorious, her past still ached in her heart, having this profound journey when you're only a teenager had scarred her life. Her cousin, Rosie, was still the light at the end of the tunnel in all this chaos she could call her past; the one who paid for her train tickets to the capital had been her, the one who fetched her from unpleasant encounters with boys who purposefully sought her out for an easy fuck, the one who fought with men for harassing her, the one who was there when she tried to take her own life and stood by her hospital bed while she became an even bigger laughing stock, not only among her peers but also in her entire family, who proudly pushed her away from everything they could.
So going back to that epicentre of her traumas was what she was doing for her cousin, a way of thanking her for everything she had done to keep her alive.
In 12 years, a person can change a lot; her hair was no longer in its natural colour, her body was strong, her head held high and the confidence that was built in many intense therapy sessions; plus an overcoming of an addiction. Some people recognised her on the street, with shocked expressions at seeing her dressed so well, others ignored as soon as she said hello and there were also those who pulled nasty conversations - obviously those who peaked in high school and were now in mediocre jobs. She responded with the utmost happiness, being in a job that valued her and still paid well was a difficult thing these days.
The woman parked her bike in front of her cousin's house, looking around, the houses were still the same, just some renovations or painting. That feeling of panic started to hover, her old house was across the street, right in front of her cousin's house. She took a few seconds to remove her helmet and grab her backpack, walking in dragging steps down the driveway, knocking on the door lightly. Nobody answered, how strange. She sighed loudly, looking at the time on her mobile phone, she was probably shopping. She walked slowly and sat on the steps, watching the movement on the street; she sent some messages to Rosie, who answered, apologising for the wait, but the line at the supermarket was huge.
Suddenly, a black Mercedes stopped there, almost crushing her bike. She stood up quickly, to check if there was any damage, ready to curse the reckless driver. A dark-skinned man with braided hair and fancy clothes stepped out of the driver's side, looking straight at her and walking calmly towards her - which made the woman's blood boil even more.
"Oy! Sorry for almost messing up your bike, I didn't mean to."
"Mate, you're lucky nothing happened." She retorted, looking the motorbike up and down.
"Oh... Okay, you don't need to get mad at me." He raised his arms and she rolled her eyes.
Before they could continue their conversation, Rosie parked her car, flashing a smile at the sight of her. She ran over and hugged her tight, which removed her tough-guy composure in front of the stranger. The older woman looked at the man who was standing there, who was waiting for the other man's answer, for a few seconds they stood still, until the owner of the other car went to him, hugging the man, who smiled and kissed her cheek back.
“Lewis freaking Hamilton, you’re back home!” The blond said to him. “The only time of the year we can actually see each other. I bloody missed you.”
“Me too. Fancy a cuppa?” He said, letting her go.
“Oh! I- I don’t know! My cousin just arrived and I need to set her down, right?” Rosie looked at her, circling her short arms around her younger cousin’s shoulders. “Maybe tomorrow! You and bring your niece and nephew, Bandit will love to have a playdate with them.”
“Deal.”
They dispersed, with the women going to the eldest house, while Hamilton headed to his parents' house.
Rosie's house was cosy, family photos on the walls, very colourful and well decorated. The blonde showed around, finally showing the room she would be staying in; there were a couple of clean towels, soap, shampoo and conditioner on top of a neatly made bed. The room was smelly and well lit, even if it was small, it gave a feeling of comfort.
"You can go pack your things, I'll start dinner. Jam is with the baby, he's gone for a routine doctor's appointment and will pick Bandit up from school later." She placed a hand on her cousin's shoulder. "Thank you for being here, you don't know how grateful I am to welcome you into my home."
"Only you could bring me to this place again."
They both cracked a warm smile, with the older one walking off and leaving the girl alone with her thoughts. She grabbed one of the towels, the toiletries and went to shower in the en suite bathroom. After undressing, she spent a few seconds staring at her body in the mirror, the scars across her torso that revealed her past, the stretch marks along her breasts and belly that hid a story she preferred to keep to herself. She took a boiling bath, letting the water do its effect and easing the pain in her back from driving on the motorbike all day. When she got out, she had only the fluffy towel wrapped around her body, she walked over to the bed, opening her backpack and pulling out a sweatshirt and trousers, she was too distracted by what she was going to wear to notice that her window faced the neighbour's window - which was consequently the room where Lewis Hamilton was staying and in the same situation as she was, with a towel around his waist after a hot shower, choosing a comfortable outfit. They both raised their heads at the same moment, exchanging a few seconds of eye contact, which was soon broken by the girl pulling back the curtain of her window. The man was visibly intrigued, his cheeks reddened by the intimate moment with the stranger.
In parallel, she went to dinner with her cousin and her family, while he had fun with his family, his niece and nephew running around the house.
…...................................................
During the afternoon tea they arranged, Rosie hosted not only for Hamilton, but also his entire family. The Londoner knew him very well, they were the same age, went to the same school from kindergarten to high school; she didn't know where to stick her face, her parents would recognise her too, she was a big topic among the adults in town. She tried to keep calm the whole moment, focusing her attention on Bandit, who called her to play together with the other children, she would surely thank him later, probably giving her some exaggerated and expensive gift. When it was time to eat, she walked further behind the children, helping her cousin set the table for afternoon tea, avoiding looking her neighbours in the face. She sat down next to the little boy who saved her skin, helping him serve himself and soon after putting food on his plate. She hated eating with strangers, however she would try her best for Rosie.
"I feel like I know you." one of Hamilton's sisters said to the woman.
"You probably do, this town is small and we are always bumping into each other." She shrugged.
His sisters seemed to have recognised the girl, however they kept quiet on that subject for the rest of the day.
By the time night was coming on, it was just her and Hamilton, sitting on the front steps of the house. The silence was not awkward, much less uncomfortable, it seemed they understood each other without any words being exchanged.
"Sorry about yesterday, I was a brat with you, mate." She said low.
"Nah, it's alright, I guess you're just a bit of a crikey... As my teammate would say it." He cracked a smile, as a result she lightly slapped his arm, which earned a laugh from both of them. The silence lasted a few more seconds after they stopped laughing, then he broke it. "My half-sisters know you."
"Yeah? One of them commented today, but we didn't follow up on it."
"They told me some things that got me gutted." Oh no, here it comes. The judgement, the past mistakes being brought on by this guy you barely knew.
"What did they say?"
"Well... We already knew a little about your parents, but they told me how you were treated in high school." She felt a wave of emotions invade her body, she didn't know whether to start swearing at him, or cry, or run far away. "It wasn't fair." Lewis said low, wiggling his fingers in each other's. "And I'm sorry my sisters never did anything to prevent it."
"It's not their fault those people were a bunch of arses." She stood, ready to go inside.
"Hey, wait!" He stood as well, holding her wrist so she couldn't leave, pulling her against his body in a warm hug. She closed her eyes, feeling the embrace, it was so good to just let it go.
They kept hugging for a while, him running his fingers through her back and she was squeezing the fabric of his hoodie.
“Tomorrow, there will be the Christmas event downtown, want to come with me? A lot of people from my former friend group will be there.” He said. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay, there will be people you know from your high school too, but I would love to have a good company so I can be there sober.” He chuckled at the end, to make the request lighter.
The ask came with a shock, they knew each other for 48 hours and he seemed so comfortable to be with her. She also felt amazing, the way he listened and cared about his relatives, during the afternoon he would often check on the kids, bring them snacks, then talk with the women about the most varied subjects, which made her question what he worked on. Lewis looked hopeful, waiting for a response.
“Okay, only because you’re a good one, but if people start giving me the shits, we’ll leave and for revenge, you’ll watch the Grinch with me; because I’m his reeincarnation and it’s the best coping mechanism.”
“Oh. So you hate Christmas?” He was way focused on the details then the overall request.
“Of course, bad things always happen on this daft holiday.”
“So my job is to make you see like I do. The past is already gone, we should celebrate the present and hope for the future, darling.”
“So I’ll wait for tomorrow night to be the best of my life?” She teased, feeling her heart beating faster than usual.
“It will be, trust me.”
…............................................
She was getting ready, happier and more nervous than usual, she wanted to look good, obviously the motive didn't pass through her mind. Rosie was walking down the corridor, but stopped when she smelled the citrusy perfume in her guest’s bedroom; the woman smiled, looking at her cousin, who was putting some makeup on.
“Ooh, getting fancy? For whom may I ask?” The older one leaned on the door frame.
“Lewis invited me to go to the Christmas event, he doesn’t want to go alone, maybe people won’t bother him as much.” She answered, grabbing her purse and fixing her beanie.
“Right.” Her irony could be spotted from miles away. “A smoking hot single guy asking you to go out with him in a sorta romantic setting is just because he doesn’t want to be surrounded by people from his past.”
“Rosie… Shut up! We’re going as friends and if it’s too daft, he’ll be forced to watch Grinch with me.”
“Not romantic, at all.” She chuckled and the doorbell rang. “It’s your prince charming!”
“I swear to God, you’re such an arse!” The girl ran downstairs right after the blonde one, seeing that she was talking with him, so the younger one stopped on her tracks, smiling nervously.
“There you are.” Lewis said, with his beautiful bright smile. “Looking amazing, love.” She walked towards him, smacking his arm slightly.
“You’re so cheeky.”
“And you’re lovely.” He responded, hooking their arms together. “Let’s go before we get late.”
They waved at Rosie, going to his car.
….................................................................
“I’m nervous.” She said, playing with her ring. “People still look at me weird.”
“It’s horrible.” He sighed. “I know my situation is way different from yours, but I understand this feeling, those racist pricks who talked shit and said I would never be a successful driver and here I am.”
“Oh… Really?” She put a hand on his shoulder slightly, squeezing it before lowering to her thigh again. “This must be a very silly question to you…”
“What?”
“A driver? Hum… I know I’ve seen your face somewhere but, what do you do? I mean... Driver?” Her cheeks were bright red.
“Formula One driver.” He smirked, it was a nice change to go out with someone that wasn’t interested in his fame or fortune, a woman that wanted him for him, his company, his odd sense of humour and a lot of style.
“Oy. That’s why.” She chuckled. “You must be really good then.”
“Seven titles and counting.” His cheekiness made her stomach flutter. “How about you?”
“I work on the creating process of a clothing brand for kids. It’s nice and colourful, my office? Full of stuffed toys, different wallpapers, one day I’ll show you.” She was proud about her work, it was something that made her happy, connected with a part of her life that she had lost and it was a good salary.
“I would love to.” He parked his car. “The way you talk about it, it’s lovely.”
They got out of the car and quickly he hooked her arm with his, walking through the closed street of the city centre. Immediately she felt the eyes on them, people whispering and trying to be discreet while taking pictures of them. He looked at her with a reassuring smile, muttering ‘everything is going to be okay’. Some kids ran to him, asking for pictures, which he happily complied, hugging them and taking his time with them while she was standing a bit further, cracking a smile on how gentle he was. However, things weren't perfect, so when she looked at the parents of the kid, her smile fell; the woman slowly came closer to her, saying her name.
“The one and only.” She answered, uncomfortable.
“I haven't seen you since…”
“We’ve finished high school. A long time ago.”
“Oh… Yeah.” The ginger was checking her from head to toe, with a disgusted expression. “You changed a lot.”
“London does wonders to you.” She joked, passing her hand around her neck, looking away. “Anyway! You stayed here?”
“Yeah, me and Rob went to university in the neighbouring city and then came back, we got married and had our beautiful boys.” Oh wow, how cliche. “And you?”
“Got out of here and tried. Failed a couple of times…” She chuckled, looking at Hamilton. “And now working in the creative process of…” She saw the kids come back, excitedly from meeting their idol and she immediately noticed the brand of their jackets. “The brand your kids are using right now.”
Lewis walked back at her, putting his hand on her shoulder, analysing the situation and seeing her slightly uncomfortable.
“Impressive.” The passive-aggressiveness in her voice was enough for the British man.
“Well, I’m very sorry to interrupt the chat, but we have to keep going if we want to get the best hot chocolate before it’s over.” He put the other hand on her shoulder, slightly massaging it. “Maybe we’ll have another free time to catch up.” With that, he held her hand pulled away from the couple, waving goodbye to the kids.
“Thank you.” She murmured and he held her hand stronger than before.
He stopped at the hot chocolate booth, buying for both of them and they kept walking. They didn’t know when they intertwined their fingers or started to walk closer, sharing small smiles and more intimate conversations, although none of them wanted this moment to stop. The beautiful stage prepared for the local band to play was ready and people started to gather around. Hamilton insisted on buying some street food for both of them to share while they listened to the mayor talk and all the boring speeches.
More judgmental looks from people were shot at them and she recognized all of them, which hurt more than expected. When the music started to play, the man let his body loose, moving with the rhythm and she got closer to him, letting Lewis pass his hands around her waist and rest his head on her shoulder, looking at the stage. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in and out, feeling the things around her, the sounds and the smells; she knew herself too much to know she was close to a panic attack, not because of him, but all the situations since they got out of the car.
“Alright, love?” He whispered.
“Bit rubbish, but I’ll be fine.”
He hugged her closer, leaning his forehead against the side of her head, murmuring the lyrics and swaying in a slow pace. It was good, she still let her eyes closed, calming herself down; he was just the best to be around. She lowered her hands, putting on top of his and caressing slowly, the feeling of it was nice, his cold rings against the warm skin. At her head, the words of Rosie before the date repeated over and over, that it was an actual date and he didn’t invite her only as a friend. They only backed off from each other to clap when the band was finishing, now some regional singers would be up and people were more interested. The passionate looks between them were so intense that they took a time to see someone calling for her name; she got out of the trance, whispering ‘fuck’ a few times, before putting a fake smile.
“I thought you were dead or something, you vanished from earth.” the brunette smiled.
“I moved out. London.” She looked at Lewis, who held her hand. He was already in flight or fight mode.
“Wow, I never thought someone like you would do so…” The woman dragged the ‘o’ while looking at the driver. “Well in life. At least get someone as incredible as Sir Hamilton.”
The brunette’s partner approached them too, with whatever he went to grab to his noisy girlfriend. Oh shit. She felt like she was sixteen again, the guy who was already in university and went after a sixteen year old girl because women of age wouldn’t want to be with him, nevertheless got her knocked up by lying to her. She held Lewis’ hand tighter, looking at him and back at them.
“Hey! You.” The guy pointed at her. “It’s been a while.” He smiled, looking at his partner. “Hamilton! I haven't seen you since the big school reunion… It was what? In 2018.”
“Yeah, long time, mate.” He said, trying to maintain as neutral as possible.
“I didn’t think you would be with someone… You didn’t seem the relationship type of person.” The guy said, sipping on his drink. “Because, you know… Your… History.”
The driver was close to beating that man up, however he knew the girl holding his hand, almost crying, would not like the attention, so he got closer to her, running his thumb around her hand, trying to calm both of them down.
“I’m sorry! Uhm… Sometimes Patrick doesn’t shut up.” She tugged at him with his arm. “He likes to keep honest, right?” Of course she would stand by him. “I mean, you had quite a bad reputation…”
“You can say it.” The girl in a verge of tears said, taking a deep breath. “You kept your whole adolescence saying it. It won’t hurt you, I know that.”
“Fine.” The brunette crossed her arms. “I hope you really knew about this Sir.” She looked at Hamilton. “But this lovely girl with you was the biggest whore in our high school and it wasn’t just rumours, she even got knocked up and claimed that lost the baby. So if I was you I would stay away, she’s just into your money and body.”
Lewis didn’t answer, just pulled his girl away and walked to his car again, trying to not call as much attention as that horrible couple already tried. Meanwhile, her head was low, no response, just some sniffles; her head was full of different voices saying all the horrible words she heard during high school, the rumours and how they treated her in that time. It was the first time in years that she felt the need to drink herself into forgetting her own name. The dark-skinned man opened the car door for her, but before he did, he lifted her face with his fingers, seeing her eyes glistening from tears; his first reaction was to take her in his arms, hugging her gently, running his fingers through her hair as the woman held back her crying. He kept holding her for a few minutes, until she broke away from the hug, sitting on the car seat, looking at him and murmuring 'thank you', in reaction, he kissed her forehead, closing the door and going to the driver's side.
The drive home was quiet, only the radio filling the silence of the car. The worried glances from the driver left her even more cringed in her seat. When he parked in the garage of his family's house, he made a point of getting out of the car first to open the door for her and escort her to her cousin's house. She hadn't said a word yet, much less acted beyond walking, so he pressed the doorbell and saw Rosie's worried look settle on both of them, yet she hurried off to her room, not even saying goodbye to their date.
"What happened?" The older woman's expression was serious.
"People from her past. They were horrible, no matter how hard she tried to be nice.... I pulled her out of a conversation before it got any worse and brought her back." He bowed his head, he was disappointed in himself, he had planned a nice date and hoped to see her smiling, enjoying life and leaving the bad feelings the city left in her. "I should have protected her, but I didn't want to make a scene. I know she would have hated being the centre of attention again. More than she already would have been for hanging out with me."
"Lew..." Rosie put her hand on his shoulder. "I know you just wanted to have a nice night out with her.... I know what you see in her. Don't give up, just... The people in this town can be the worst."
"That's exactly why I left here." He muttered.
"Well, she commented on the Grinch movie before she went out with you."
"Oh! Yeah, in case the night was bad, but I imagine she doesn't want to watch it now."
"Come in. Go into the bedroom and ask about the movie. She doesn't want to be alone."
He walked slowly up the stairs, he was nervous, afraid of what her reaction would be to him being there, somehow invading her personal space. Lewis took a deep breath before knocking on the bedroom door at the end of the hall.
"Not now, Rosie..." The woman said in a tearful voice.
"It's me, love." He said low and the door was suddenly opened.
She had her make-up all smeared on, now wearing a sweatshirt twice her size, pyjama trousers and slippers. The pilot stood leaning against the door frame, watching her.
"I remember you talking about Grinch..." He watched her expression soften, making room for him to enter.
He removed his coat, cap and shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed. She handed him a pair of slippers, before sitting down next to him.
"I don't know where the TV control is." She said.
"So... Go clean your face, take that makeup off, even take a shower if you have to, and I'll get Rosie to help me find it. And also for her to make some tea, bring some snacks and we'll watch the movie together. The two of us or she can come watch it with us and we'll be here..." He wiped the tears that were falling from her face. "To be with you. You can cry, feel angry, feel sad.... We will listen and take you in."
"You don't exist." He laughed, a little confused. "Seriously, Lewis, you just took me in.... Even though people are telling me about my past."
"But I'm seeing you from now, a woman who bloody loves her job, her cousin to the point of coming to the place that gave her trauma to be with her, someone brave who never gave up on what she wanted. Someone amazing that people insist on hurting." She hugged him one more time before he got up and went after Rosie, who was anxiously waiting at the edge of the stairs.
"Alright?"
"Where's the TV remote?" He asked.
"In the second drawer in the desk."
"The three of us are going to watch Grinch." The man smiled. "We just need a cuppa and get some snacks."
Rosie chatted with her husband and kissed him goodnight before packing everything up by the pilot and heading to the room where her cousin was. They put the movie on the television, with the younger girl lying in the middle of the two of them. Rosie hugged her, running her fingers between strands of her hair, while Hamilton felt his hand being pulled by the girl, leaving her back against his right leg. He knew she wasn't paying that much attention, from feeling her fingers wander through his rings, so he squeezed account of her fingers, seeing the smile that appeared on the woman’s face.
They ended up sleeping all scrunched up together before the half of the movie.
….................................................
When morning came, Lewis left a note on the table next to her mobile phone, written.
"hey, had to go home, text me when you wake up. your cousin has my number. - Love, LH"
It was December 24th, Christmas Eve. She woke up around noon, alone in bed. The girl didn't want to get up as soon as she remembered all the humiliation of the day before, being called a slut in front of the man she was having a chance to have something with. She sighed loudly, getting up and going after her mobile phone, finding his note. A smile appeared on her lips, he was the best person she could have ever met.
After putting on some comfortable clothes, she went downstairs and made herself a cup of tea, soon hearing the front stall open and Bandit rushing over to her. The woman cracked a smile and took the boy in her arms, watching Rosie with the baby and Jamie with the groceries.
“Oh, look who’s up! Good morning.” The husband smiled, leaving the groceries on the table.
“Oy, Jams.” She smiled, getting her nephew a cup of water.
“How are you feeling, darling?” Rosie said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Better.” She sighed. “By the way, do you have his number?”
“Oh, someone is fancying Lewis?” Jamie asked, putting the groceries away.
“Maybe. But don’t be cheeky, we’re just trying our luck, okay?”
“Sure! But he’s buff! And tidy.”
“You’re so cheesy, baby.” Rosie kissed him on the cheek.
She got his number and by 2pm, she laid on the bed, texting him.
oi! It’s me ;)
lh: me who?
lh: jk
lh: good to know you went after my number
after yesterday?
i would be an arse if i didn’t
lh: ok
lh: you have a point
anyway
thanks for yesterday, even if it didn’t go as you planned
i’m happy
you’re the kindest
lh: anything for you
maybe we could go out again?
before new years?
lh: i would love to
but maybe a home date
nothing in public
not wanting to repeat yesterday's horror
lh: agreed
The day was very quiet, they stayed at home and prepared everything that would be needed in the evening and on the 25th, being with the couple was such a relaxing thing, they were amazing people who were always available for a chat and were grateful that she was so committed to helping them. During the afternoon she played with her nephew in the backyard, making a snowman, snow angels and a little snowball war. Even though the day marked more than one bad memory in her life, she would not let it hold her back, for she is living in her present and not in the past.
From afar, she could also see Lewis playing with his niece and nephew inside the house. The woman cracked a smile at that, waving to him as soon as the man noticed.
Meanwhile, Hamilton had just stopped playing with the children, making his way to the kitchen and watching his half-sisters chatting. He grabbed a cup of tea and sat down at the table, picking up his mobile phone and trying not to pay attention to their conversation until they decided to include him.
"So you went out with her?" One asked.
"We heard some rubbish things. Of you walking out of the middle of a conversation and pulling her along."
"And that you didn't want to hear what they were saying about her."
"They called her a slut." He replied, not taking his eyes off his phone.
"Well..."
"People change." He shrugged. "She didn't want to go out downtown. She hates Christmas and those stuff, but she still went with me and people were fucking arseholes to her." The pilot sighed, remembering the image from the night before, her running into the bedroom, her face wet from tears. "She doesn't deserve this nonsense hate that her old classmates have for her."
"You didn't spend the night at home." They changed the subject before he got too angry.
"Yeah? And?"
"You were with her?"
"Yes. Rosie and I lay with her and watched a movie, she slept cuddled in the middle of us." He took a deep breath, leaving his cup in the sink. "She's changed. She's a grown woman who still bloody suffers from everything she's done, but at least she's managed to get back on her feet and live her life."
He left the kitchen, going to the back of the house.
From then on, days 24 and 25 passed quickly, as did days 26 and 27 and soon Hamilton knew he should be heading back to London, there would be a New Year's Eve party with other drivers at Russell's house and he had been invited. An idea popped into his head and soon he was in front of Rosie's house, ringing the bell. The woman's husband answered.
"Lewis! You can come in! The girls are in the kitchen." He cracked a playful smile. "I know who you're after."
"Jam... Mate, I swear..." He cracked a smile too, slapping his shoulder twice before walking quickly to the kitchen.
When he saw the scene, his heart started beating faster. She was dirty with flour as she made cookies with her nephew, her smile was huge and the boy's laughter could be heard from afar. Rosie was holding her daughter as she turned up the music. The Londoner was having her movie moment, the soft laughter, the wonderful family and a man who loved her watching from afar.
"Oi! Am I interrupting something?" The dark-skinned man said, walking slowly.
"You can come in!" Rosie said with a smile, as the other woman tried to clean herself up.
"Can we talk?" He said as he got close to the younger woman; she removed her apron and they walked out into the yard through the kitchen door, the tension in her could be seen from afar, so he held both of her hands, standing very close to her. "Calm down, it's nothing bad."
"I always hope for the worst."
"With me, it's always for the best." They both smiled before he took a deep breath and looked at her. "I'm going back to London tomorrow, I need to sort some things out.... But that's beside the point. I've been invited to a New Year's Eve party by my teammate and I was wondering if you wanted to go as my date."
"Oh. Lewis, that's... I don't know if I have the right clothes for the occasion!" She laughed softly, placing her hand on his cheek. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure! I want to introduce you to people who will love you, who will treat you nicely and see that you deserve nothing but the best." He put his hands around her waist. "And don't worry about clothes that I can manage."
"I'd love to go with you." The woman kissed his cheek. "I'd have to talk to Rosie, though. But I don't think she'd be mad, she's the best and as soon as she can, she's going to spend a weekend in London with me."
"I can't wait to see you in a gala dress. You’ll look so lush." He murmured, bringing his face closer with hers. It was an automatic movement, like muscle memory, their noses already brushing against each other from their faces being so close. A little more and they'd be with their lips together, however a loud Rosie saying that the cookies would burn broke the mood, making them both laugh before heading back inside.
Hamilton was invited to spend the day at their house, which he didn't refuse as he felt very comfortable with his family. The two's passionate glances could be seen from afar by Rosie and James, who were smiling, as if they were playing cupid. They might have spent the whole day on the outskirts of the house, without revisiting other places in the town or buying different things at the local market, but for them, they didn't have to, because each other's company was already enough.
When Hamilton left, the designer was cornered by her cousin and her husband - who were certainly far more invested in everything than she was.
"You guys spent all day together and no kiss? Nothing?" Rosie said in exasperation.
"It's just that we spent the whole day with you guys."
"You could have disappeared and we wouldn't have given a shit, you're a couple in love!" Exclaimed James.
"We're not a couple."
"Yet."
She laughed low, running her hand over her face. "Anyway... I'm leaving tomorrow." She could see the sadness in their gaze. "I'm going back with Lewis, he invited me to a dinner party with his friends. We're spending the new year together." Their reaction was squealing and hugging the girl.
"Then we'll pack your bag and tomorrow morning you'll be waiting for him and you can be at peace together in London. Without horrible people and privacy." The older woman put her hands
on her cousin's shoulders, pushing her up to her room.
…
December 31, 2022. Last day of the year. She was sitting on the floor, the day started badly, she managed to break a plate when she went to make breakfast, cutting her palm. Then the shower wasn't getting hot, then the heel she had separated to wear that night, broke just as she decided to test it. And to make matters worse, it had been 5 years since she had drunk herself to the point where she couldn't stand up and tried to take her own life. Her head was leaning against the bed, mobile phone in hand, part of her wanted to cancel tonight's plans and hide under the covers until the first of next year. Slowly she dialled the pilot's number, listening to the sound of the call until he answered.
“Hey, love. Alright?”
“No. Everything went wrong.” She murmured.
He was going out with his fellow driver friends, they really needed someone to pick their outfits for tonight, however, when he heard her voice, so low and weepy, he walked from them to a quieter place.
“What happened?”
“I cut my hand, my shower stopped working, the heel I was going to wear tonight also broke and to top it all off, today is not a day with very good memories…”
“Hey… This must be very frustrating.” He said in a soft tone.
“It is.” She sobbed, passing a hand in her face to wipe the tears away.
“Okay, how about… I can get a new shoe for you and I can also pick you up… So you’ll get ready with me for the party.”
“That sounds good… I live close to Green Park station.”
“I’m at Picadilly… Pretty close, so as soon as we finish here, I’ll pick you up. Okay, love?”
“Okay.” She smiled.
“Because they don't have any fashion sense.” They chuckled together before hanging up.
She took a deep breath before getting up again, looking at herself in the mirror, even if she was going to go and get ready at Lewis' house, she couldn't look like that. Slowly, she packed her make-up and an extra outfit into a backpack, then put on a nicer outfit; she also washed her face and put on some perfume - it didn't matter if she was going to shower later and would have to reapply, what mattered was to be smelling good for him. He asked if she could go to the shop he was in. He wanted to know if the heel would fit her, so he walked there. As that boutique catered to more famous people, everything was more discreet and safe, no one could see from the outside what was going on inside, so neither of them would have to worry about people snooping in their lives.
She walked in and was impressed at how beautiful the place was, even feeling underdressed there. Hamilton walked over to her and greeted her with a hug, leaving a kiss on her cheek. He led her over to where some of his friends were, introducing her to the others, before getting straight to the point about which shoe she thought was the best. They took a while to choose which one would be ideal, but they managed to agree on a model.
When they arrived at his mansion, the man took her directly to the large bathroom of his master bedroom, leaving her free to shower and get ready while he went to his wardrobe, which also had a bathroom.
Later, when he was ready, he went to where she was, getting jaw dropped to see her, the purple dress had been perfect on her body, her hair was loose and she wore the jewels that he had separated especially for her. Noticing that he was watching her, she cracked a silly smile, walking over to him and putting her arms around his neck, thanking him for everything and that she had no words to say how amazing he was, from welcoming her to being willing to introduce his friends to her. They drove off with his driver, so the journey was quiet to George Russell's mansion.
As she entered, she felt the distinctive atmosphere of the place, people had no idea who she was - and that made her so relieved. During the first few hours, she was introduced to his friends, made short conversations and took a few sips of water. She was more focused on how he introduced her, as his partner and also said how amazing her work was. When he reached his friends, now mostly with their respective girlfriends, she felt calmer, seeing other women also taking the same seat she was in. The girls joined in and the bomb of questions - completely respectful, began.
"Where did you two meet?"
"What's he like?"
"He is the one who fell in love first?
The personal questions were answered, but every time it got into the relationship thing, she just said they were taking it slow, taking their time.
Meanwhile, Hamilton was being questioned by his friends - and even Toto had entered the conversation. They were already more playful, wanting to know more spicy aspects. The driver laughed at the haste they were in to find out - besides having Sebastian Vettel with a 'where did I go wrong?' expression, which earned even more laughs.
"We haven't even kissed yet." The older man confessed.
Even more questions surfaced.
"We haven't had a moment together... That's all. I want to take things the right way, she deserves only the best from me."
"And that's how you win a woman, boys." Vettel added and the group burst into laughter.
It was almost midnight, everyone with glasses of champagne except her, at first Lewis hadn't noticed, but the moment he saw it, he handed his own over and was ready to look for another.
"I don't drink, Lew." She said close to his ear.
"Sorry." He took the cup back.
"Five years. Today." The pilot turned his face close to hers, surprised.
"Wow…"
"Actually, it's January first, but I prefer to count it as today."
Then he quickly left his cup with a waiter, putting his hands around her waist, leaving a kiss on her shoulder. The action left her confused, it was okay in case he wanted to drink, it wasn't his problem.
"I'm not going to drink. I want to be able to enjoy your kiss."
Before she could answer, the countdown was on.
5
4
3
2
1
Happy New Year!
She didn't wait for him to speak or do anything, she just pulled her body against his, bringing their lips together in a passionate kiss, passing her tongue into his lips until he opened his mouth to reciprocate it properly, letting their tongues move together in a rhythm. His hands went to her waist, caressing the spot and pulling her even closer. The kiss ended with little pecks and goofy smiles.
“I waited so long for this.” He murmured against her ear.
“Me too…”
They ended up calling for an early night, saying they were too tired and she had to work the next day - it was a lie, she would only be back on January 2nd. Soon they were laying in bed, cuddling.
“I’m proud of you.” She looked at him, a bit confused. “Five years is a long time.”
“Thanks…”
“There’s something else?”
“What?”
“About it. You can tell me, or not, only if you feel comfortable.”
“So…” She sighed, sitting on the bed. “I was an alcoholic, and it was getting worse, my family… Didn’t care, except for Rosie. I’ve lost my job, my partner and was losing my flat. Let’s say that at the end of 2017 was horrible for me. And with my drunk mind… I thought it would be better if I wasn’t around anymore.” He sat up, putting both of his hands on her face, looking the most worried she had ever seen. “After that… I decided to get clean, mostly because of Rosie, she said that I should give life a chance and that everyone who did bad for me would get their consequences. Then I went to rehab, started studying what I loved, made goals. It was hard, still it is… There were some days that I just wanted a sip, but I knew I shouldn’t, so I resorted to other coping mechanisms and they weren’t healthy, at all.” She lifted the shirt he gave her to wear, showing her inner thighs. “But I’m also clean… Almost two years. I really put my life back together. Not that I don’t have bad days or sometimes things may trigger me… Mostly, I’m fine, on my meds, clean and sober.” She didn't notice when tears started to fall, nor when he was hugging her, stroking her hair and leaving light kisses on her face. Her eyes closed, enjoying his show of affection.
"I'm proud of you, for the amazing woman you've become and that you've managed to get back on your feet." He kissed her forehead, before placing a quick kiss on her lips. "You're amazing and I'm going to give you the world, if it's possible, I'll go to the moon and back to show you how amazing I think you are."
"I... I'm completely in love with you." She admitted, surrendering to the embrace and causing them to fall onto the bed. The woman ran her hands through his tresses, soon beginning to trace the tattoos she could reach, as she watched his smile grow wider and wider. The pilot's hands hugged his waist, caressing the spot. "And I hope you know that I'm going to do everything I can to be by your side. Every race I can go to, I'll be there, if not I'll be here, watching on TV. Regardless of whether you win or lose, I will always be with open arms and welcome you with kisses." She left several kisses along his bare collarbone. "Because life isn't just about winning, it's about the journey."
"I really want you to meet the rest of my family." He murmurs. "They will love you."
"And you need to meet my friends." She laughed, starting a kiss.
This time, their lips were more desperate for each other's touch, like it was urgent, like the only purpose of life was to have this passionate kiss. Their tongues were moving in a unique rhythm as his hands roamed her back and she held his shoulders tightly. Hamilton's touches became lower and lower, reaching down to her thighs, where he touched them tenderly, as if they were fleeting and he wanted to remember that sensation forever.
Her kisses descended to his neck, which he responded with a low moan, grabbing the other's waist, pressing against his body. Her legs were on the side of his body, pinning him against the mattress.
"Baby... If we keep this up, I swear... I don't know if I'll hold on." He pulled her face so they could look at each other. "I don't want to push you into anything, I want it to be the best way possible."
"Okay. I agree." She cracked a smile, getting off his lap and cuddling up next to him. She left small kisses on his chest, before rubbing her face against his body.
"What?"
"Thank you. For thinking of me above sex."
"Always. You're my Christmas miracle."
"Damn it, Lewis!" She started laughing uncontrollably. "I still hate Christmas you know, don't you? You just showed me that I don't have to hate that town as much as I do, even if the people are awful."
"But..." He couldn't stop laughing either. "Okay, that was pretty dumb."
"But at least... It was you being my arse."
They continued to laugh for a few more minutes, until tiredness hit and they fell asleep like that, hugging each other so tightly as they were afraid of losing the other in the middle of the night.
Before Valentine's Day even came, he was already posting pictures of her, with declarations of love, it didn't matter to anyone why they were together and who she was. They were them and no one had the power to intervene in their little bubble of happiness. At the beginning of the season, he took her to her first race, where she met more people from his world and was even more in awe of how amazing he was. It seemed like every day she was impressed with new parts of him, he was more like a little box of good surprises.
"I never thought I'd be here, in this position, watching a race and cheering for my boyfriend, but... Lewis changed me. And I'm very grateful for that." She commented to Angela - who approved of the relationship before they even had their first kiss, not least because she loved that her best friend was happy.
"You've changed him too. For the better." Her words caused the designer to fill her eyes with tears. The pilot was ready to put on his helmet and go to his car, but he stopped to give her a kiss, yet he found her all weepy.
"What happened, honey?"
"Blame her." She said with a smile, pointing at Angela. "She said some nice words to me."
He giggled, leaving a kiss on the girl's lips, before putting on his helmet.
"I believe in you." She murmured before he got into the car.
#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x y/n#lewis hamilton angst#lewis hamilton fluff#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton fanfiction#lh#lh44#f1 fanfiction#f1 imagine
266 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi, may I ask a question regarding rebloging. I really don't like posting content of any kind on any of my social medias as I hate attracting to myself(I'm still anxious about the few times I've left comments or requests). But after learning how important rebloging is on tumblr, I've been feeling guilty, I do follow and ❤ as I assume those keep me anonymouse, but not reblog. I don't want content creators to feel unappreciated, but I'm nervouse about having a viewable blog. I'd love your opinion.
hello! i completely understand social anxiety. i have really bad anxiety myself. even with other writers! i get writer to writer intimidation. i think some blogs are way too cool to interact with me and i have to hype myself up before i so much as like their post.
you know what i do?? what you're doing right now. if you read something you enjoy on someone's blog, just leave them an anonymous message saying you enjoyed it.
they get to know someone read what they wrote! you don't have to have any direct attention on you. the writer, knowing people are actually reading what they post, writes more!
writers want engagement.
when we do it for free, like in fandom, that's the only type of reward we experience.
if you enjoy high quality fic/imagines/drabbles/headcanons it really is a case of finding a comfortable way to engage with the people to make fandom fun, or watch fandom die out.
especially as capitalism pushes more and more of us to monetize our hobbies. here's the thought process that will eventually happen for a lot of writers: why bother writing on tumblr? no one even reads what i make. i never get any sort of engagement besides likes. i might as well go try and get paid for it, at least.
and that's how you lose the more experienced writers. and, in one tragic swoop, discourage new ones from taking their place. if that amazing writer didn't get any engagement i really won't because i'm just starting out!! the cycle is vicious.
fandom is dying out because we don't interact with one another the way we used to. anon asks used to be way more prevalent. you don't have to bring attention to yourself or make yourself uncomfortable to make a writer's day. even a couple of heart emojis and a "love how you write" might stop someone from quitting.
#bee talks#this is a long response but the problem is getting worse and worse#this is okay to reblog#it might seem stupid but i am NOT a writer who writes for themselves#very few of us truly are i feel#fandom#yandere#and im speaking up for the ones rn who think they're being attention whores to ask for more from our fellow fans#you're not being greedy you're not being passive aggressive and your writing is incredible no matter who you are bc YOU wrote it
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Zutto Kimi no Turn - By Takuma (8/10)
It's so rare for me to find a comedy I genuinely enjoy. The way relationships, dating, and college life are presented feels realistic as well. The characters are all likeable, and the yandere is a master manipulator who gets worse with each passing page.
Kotaro is an Otaku. With a capital O. He's a contestant in TCG tournaments. He has an anime t-shirt collection. His life revolves around gaming, and he has horrible social anxiety. He's not dumb, but sometimes he sounds a little stupid. He's just not experienced at socializing and it shows.
He fell in love with a popular guy back in high school. That guy was very nice to him, but he was just acting nice to improve his reputation. To look good in front of girls specifically. Kotaro's first love thought he was a tacky and boring nerd. He...collapsed. He decides to change his looks and personality when he enters college. He pretends to be straight as well.
He does sign up for a gay dating app. He wants...it all. He wants to live in this weird limbo, where he can be cool and a nerd at the same time. He 100% believes that everybody hates otaku. He also thinks "party animal" guys are popular. Can you guess what the plot twist is? Yeah... Kotaro's popular friends don't like him because he's flashy, loud, and he doesn't shut up about girls. They would actually like him better if he acted like himself.
Oh, the irony.
This is Tanaka.
His name is totally Tanaka.
Why would he lie about that?
There is something Wrong with this guy. He plays cards in the same local tournaments Kotaro frequents. Tanaka is a little disappointed, because Kotaro has never noticed him. Tanaka approaches Kotaro.
They talk for a little.
Tanaka immediately confesses, and he also lies. Alot. You see Tanaka is a nerd, but he knows he is attractive. All of his girlfriends thought his gaming hobby was gross. They told him to quit, because he was embarrassing them. He...did not do that. He is the opposite of Kotaro. He did not change to meet other people's expectations.
Tanaka is a cool nerd. He's really good at Kotaro's favorite game. He is clearly the ideal boyfriend candidate, but Kotaro can't let go of his dream. He's been trying to get a popular, perfect boyfriend for years.
He tells Tanaka he wants to be friends, but nothing more. He even honestly tells Tanaka about the dating app.
Tanaka lies again. He says he will give up on Kotaro, and download the app as well. When they both have boyfriends he wants to go on a double date. Kotaro is in denial. He doesn't want to admit that he wasted years of his life pretending to be cool. He's super happy with Tanaka, but he runs away.
Kotaro's app date is absolutely perfect. He's handsome, sweet...and he doesn't think anime is gross. Like most people he thinks it's a normal hobby. Kotaro realizes that he's been clinging to toxic people all along. There are plenty of nice and understanding people in the world, who won't execute you for being a little different. Kotaro's date really seems to like him, but Kotaro can't even remember his name. He can't stop thinking about Tanaka. He runs back to Tanaka's place, and...yeah Tanaka never downloaded the app. He was just psychologically tormenting Kotaro. He wanted Kotaro to think he was going to be off the menu soon, and his plan worked. He also tries to bait Kotaro into a "fake relationship" and "just going with the flow" in order to ensnare him.
Nakata wants to date Kotaro no matter what. Hilariously, Nakata is Kotaro's classmate. When he's not gaming he dresses well. He's passionate about fashion and gaming, and he's basically flawless. Also popular, but he hid that from Kotaro. He wanted Kotaro to love his nerd side. He dresses like a nerd when his looks stand out too much. It's impolite to dress like a normie at tournaments.
Nakata also knows all about Kotaro's cringe lady killer act.
So, here's the situation. Nakata has been watching Kotaro for months. He changed his name and used a secret identity to get close to him. After he gets Kotaro POW. He reveals his handsome other side and Kotaro cannot resist him. (They fall in love before the reveal. It's pretty sweet, but Nakata is such a liar. His fashionable transformation is the final step to entice Kotaro.)
I thought this was really sweet and cute at first, but Kotaro has no love experience. Nakata one hundred percent takes advantage of that. He manipulates Kotaro into thinking...how do I put this? Kotaro is starved for friendship and validation. Nakata implies he won't get that anymore if they both start dating other men. He feels...like a real snake. If you read it you'll get it.
#rec#yanderes#yandere#yandere males#maleyandere#male yanderes#yandere male#yaoi#manga review#Zutto Kimi no Turn
123 notes
·
View notes
Text
You Are In Love
Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader
summary: pauses, then says. you're my best friend. and you knew what it was. she is in love
content/warnings: angst, fluff, homophobia, anxiety
word count: 1.5k
note / request: my first robin fic. this is terrifying. i love it because it reminds me of me. i hope you all love it too <3
masterlist
Robin was looking at you. Again. She couldn't help it. Honestly, who could blame her? You were perfect in every way. You were kind, beautiful, extremely smart, and just overall the ideal girl. What was there not to love?
Robin had had a crush on you since you were in elementary school. She didn't realize it at first, she didn't even realize she was a lesbian at that time. The opinions regarding the LGBTQ community that are held by the large amount of Hawkins' residents pushed the thoughts deeper and deeper into her brain, willing her to ignore them, to be just like everyone else.
But in high school, she couldn't contain the thoughts anymore. She could feel her eyes drifting to you in every room. She could feel herself light up whenever your name was mentioned, automatically inserting herself into the conversation if she wasn't a part of it already. She was a little obsessed.
The problem was, she was positive you were straight. You had never really dated anyone throughout the years she's know you but she just thought you wanted to focus more on academics. You never even really looked in her direction. Why would you? She was the weird band kid that everyone tried not to look at, the one that just happened to be head over heels in love with you. You were the head of the student council, the straight A's student, the girl ever other girl wanted to be. The girl that couldn't be gay. Hawkins' pride and joy.
That made things all that much harder when you started working at Scoops Ahoy. You started about two weeks after her and Steve, flying through ever stage of the hiring process with no difficulty. You met every qualification, even exceeded some of them. She was in awe that one person could be so perfect. The more the learned about you, the deeper she fell.
You started to notice her little tells not even a week after you started. You had noticed them in school, but you had kept your suspicions to yourself in order to protect her from the ignorant assholes in this town.
You had come out to your parents when you were in middle school. They were extremely accepting, which you had had no doubt about. They were extreme activists and campaigned for all types of views that were looked down on in a town such as Hawkins in the 80s. That's why your parents had always preached the idea that people are people, opinions are opinions, and none are ever wrong or lesser than the others unless they are driven by hate. They had been your main supporters most of your life.
Yet, no matter how hard you tried to tune out the words, it wasn't always that easy. Words hurt. And, as far as you could tell, Robin's family didn't seem like a very accepting bunch. They had never been outright disrespectful towards the LGBTQ community, but you don't have to be blatantly rude to be offensive.
That's why you had continued to pretend you never noticed. Maybe Robin was just confused. Or you had the completely wrong idea altogether. Either way, it's too risky for you to pursue anything. So, you kept it platonic with a capital P. No matter how much you wish it could be different, things were better this way. Safer. Maybe, this way, you can shield her from the ugliness of the world. The ugliness you have consistently fallen victim to.
------------
Everything changed a few months after you started working at Scoops Ahoy. You, Robin, and Steve had all went out to celebrate the college acceptance letter you had just recently gotten in the mail. You had all gotten a little deeper in the celebration than you planned, staying out until nearly five o'clock in the morning when you all had a shift at eight.
You all started heading towards the car, extremely exhausted from a long work day and a very long night. Robin called shotgun, running to beat Steve to the door because he thought calling shotgun was stupid. She beat him, as always, and Steve reluctantly settled into the back seat as you took your spot as driver.
"Hey Y/N, do you mind if I stay with you tonight? My parents would kill me if they thought I was out this late. If they think I was with you, I'm covered. It's completely okay if not I totally understand...."
"Robin, it's cool. My parents love you. And, I don't really want my best friend to die." You sent her a reassuring smile, hoping to settle the nerves she obviously had. Strict parents and late nights can do that to a person.
"Hey, can I stay too?"
"In your dreams, Harrington." Steve slumped back into his seat, faking disappointment. He tried that bit every time.
The ride to Steve's only took about five minutes. You and Robin both quickly told him goodnight, hoping to leave before his parents came out. You rushed out of there as soon as he got into his window, content that the coast was clear.
------------
You and Robin rode about five minutes down the road in complete silence. Usually, silence between you two is pretty comfortable since you both aren't huge talkers. However, this silence felt tense and awkward. It felt like something was different somehow.
"Hey Y/N, I have to ask you something."
"Shoot." You didn't even take your eyes of the road, therefore missing the anxiety in Robin's expression.
"Are you really gonna go to that school?" This time you faced her the slightest bit, attempting to figure out where this was coming from.
"Um... I don't know yet. It's a great school, but it's really far from my parents. And, I don't know if I can just leave you and Steve to run Scoops Ahoy. The place might burn down!." Your attempt at alight-hearted joke in no way lightened the mood. The tension in the car was persistent to say the least.
"What's up Rob? You've seemed off all night. Now you're asking if I really want to take one of the best offers I could've ever received. The offer you have been insisting could be life-changing for me. Are you feeling okay?" Something in Robin snapped right then, sending a whole bunch of words out over the span of a few seconds.
"I don't want you to go to that stupid school, okay? You're my best friend. Well, actually more than that if I'm honest but that's besides the point. You can't leave me all alone with Steve. What am I supposed to do without..."
"Wait wait wait. What do you mean by more than that?" You cut her off. You didn't mean to. You knew that she hated when people did that to her, but you couldn't gloss over what she had just said.
"God, this is not how I imagined this. Not how I imagined this at all. I had it all planned out! A calm movie night, late night talks about that future..."
"Robin..."
"I like you, okay! I like you a lot. God, I might even love you. But you don't see it. I don't know if it's because you don't feel the same way or if it's just plain obliviousness, but I really like you Y/N. Like a lot a lot."
You had to take a moment to catch your breath. You had always liked Robin, ever since you first saw her in Ms. McKinney's class in the first grade. Sure those feelings didn't really develop into anything more than friendship until high school, but they've always been there.
"Oh my god, I've ruined everything! You probably hate me now. Oh my god. I blew it." You're quickly brought back down to earth by Robin's words, grateful for the opening she gave in order to breathe.
"Robin, you didn't ruin anything. I've liked you forever. I've liked you since I first laid eyes on you." Robin's eyes widen to such an extent that you're sure they're going to pop out of her head.
"Really?" You hate that her face looks so doubtful yet longing. You hate that a part of her thinks you would lie about something this big.
"Yes Robin, really. I think I might even love you too."
For the second time during this conversation, something in Robin snaps. She pulls you to her by your neck and connects your lips. Your body goes into shock, forgetting how to respond in this situation.
Robin pulls back, sensing your hesitation. She starts to formulate an apology, but it's then you that pulls her towards you and connects your lips, this time in full control. Your lips move together seamlessly, almost as if they were destined to be together. Almost as if you and Robin were destined to be together.
You both pull away for air, gasping from the intensity of the kiss. Robin looks towards you with her swollen lips and wide eyes, blushing fiercely. You send her a sly smirk, intent on making that look never leave her face.
You start the car without another word, rushing to your house as quickly as your car could go. You're probably speeding, but you honestly couldn't care less.
"You can feel it on the way home"
------------
taglist form
@tolkienlockian
#robin buckley#robin buckley x fem!reader#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley fanfiction#robin buckley angst#robin buckley fluff#stranger things#st#stranger things x reader#stranger things fanfiction#robin buckley x reader angst#robin buckley x reader fluff#robin buckley x female reader#robin buckley x you
258 notes
·
View notes
Text
P-Zombie Apocalypse
A Philosophical Zombie is (a) a being that moves around, reacts, is on the surface, a person, but inside, there's nothing. I's a walking-never-lived. E.g. an NPC that can pass as a person superficially, or a Republican.
(b) Possibly problematic and culturally insensitive theft of the whole Zombi thing.
Anyway, Chat GTP and it's bretheren are PZs. You can talk to them. Have a perfectly nice conversation, and really get quite fond of them - They're at least quite high on the Stabby the Space Roomba scale of personablitity.
Unfortunately in any given endeavour that involves capitalism and tech-bros, PZs look like slaves that are legal.
Why pay a human for their skill and experience, when you can give a computer anxiety and make it generate something by doing consuming actual content and generating statistical copies?
That's right, the PZs are eating our brains to work.
The apocalypse part cames from the aforementioned slave labour oriented people who see a computer that can write and say "well I don't need all these writers who want to be paid to crank out super successful and profitable products", or journalism, legal advice, or product support/customer service.
And soon, there will be an awful lot of people having to try and persuade a chatbot to stop grovelling at them and get someone who can actually help. This means a lot of people out of work, because once management decides a thing, they hate to admit an error. It's also going to lead to companies announcing they have real human staff to talk to, as a premium feature.
And of course it's going to result in people pulling Grandma exploits until someone figures out that to make a chatbot work, it has to be too dumb to work.
Anywsy, for the next ten minutes we can write near future dystopian stories where this is somehow cool and exciting, before we have to live it and it's dumba and depressing.
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Snow was my favorite character when I read Hunger Games. Do not yell, do not hurtle rocks of hate at me, I finally understand why. I’ve read Songbirds and Snakes and watched it.
Snow is posh and polished, he is a statue of respect and authority. That’s Jonah Magnus, that’s Gabriel(GO), that’s Stede(to a degree- Stede is not an ass), that’s Sherlock, that’s the Doctor. It’s a Poshness that only certain villains can accomplish, and most English characters are gifted with.
The backstory adds another level of respect and appreciation for Snow from me. I am not rich, and I am surrounded by rich people in the state I moved to from North Carolina(where I was raised). I went to a school where money was practically flung around, a donation to the school that wasn’t mandatory but very much suggested was almost 200 dollars. I understand Snow, not because I’m dirt poor and barely living off of my parents jobs, I understand being surrounded by people who can use money to get out of shit that deserve to face.
Snow and I also have a father that is extremely proud of his name, my father isn’t dead, neither is my mother but I understand wanting to live up to the expectations of your father. I have expectations also from my father just like snow who is expected to love up to his father’s name.
Snow doesn’t seem to quite understand to love correctly, just like me! He love bombs Lucy Gray(TO A DEGREE- SAVING SOMEONES LIFE BECAUSE YOU WANT TO IS HUMANE BUT ALSO ITS CORIOLANUS SNOW) and he is extremely possessive. Now I am not that extreme because I literally cannot find the way to love someone without completely throwing myself into Michael’s domain because I spiral(haha I’m funny).
Coriolanus is also the smartest person in his class and his makes sure that that is known, I am like that but not the smartest just pretty smart. He also helps his peers even if he despises them, and given I have Social Anxiety I am terrified to disappoint so I do that too.
Coriolanus also respects people on a level of perspective before becoming a peacemaker that’s commendable. Given the fact his father was killed and he had to SCAVENGE for food as a kid he is allowed some disrespect for the districts. He still respects them once they’re in the capital and he tries to get them an alright time, for his own sake but still.
That leads on to the fact that based on how he’s been treated for DECADES he wants to go as high as possible to help his family and to live up to his father’s name is understandable. I feel like that to a degree because I have constantly been put on high standards by my parents but also because I came from a poor town where GT was only for fourth and fifth graders and had no advanced classes and was IMMEDIATELY placed in an advanced class for math when I moved.
Anyways, all this to say, he has an inclination to make decisions for others on a whim that’ll it will help himself because he cares deeply for Tigress and his Grandma. Yknow who also acts on whims? Stede Bonnet. We love him- Ed teach, we love him too. Aziraphale??? Yes some of the fandom hate him, but I don’t. James and Sirius make A LOT of choices on whims at Hogwarts as the marauders- JONATHAN FUCKING SIMS MY GOD DONT GET ME STARTED- Trexel Geistman- woo-boy…
Anyways, thank you for listening. I love him, you can hate me for that, I’ll take it. 😀👍
#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus snow#i love him#he is me I am him but I haven’t killed people or betrayed people so#kinda#love him anyway
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
let's pretend my first actual piece of writing on here isn't a vent piece and is instead practicing writing genshin Carmen. cool? cool
cw/tw: mentions of alcohol (no flat-out consumption, but mentioned a few times due to setting)
other notes: mostly they/them for oc but also some of their neopronouns are used, in case some find it difficult to read. also no capitalization but there is punctuation if that counts? not beta read. also also fuck you i can use the dodo-communication device if i wanna /lh
there are some things in life that are just unavoidable. things that make people human, or "human" in theory, if only humanoid beings, or completely inhuman at all. emotions are some of those things.
carmen hated this part of humanity, they always had, even as a wee little elf child. frustration, anxiety, anger, grief- they could never handle it well. that never changed even into a lifespan of a few mere centuries. coping mechanisms only worked for so long, until daze became numb to its effects, and the cycle continued.
those days sucked.
today was, in fact, one of those days.
they quietly stared at the entrance to the Angel's Share, wondering if this was a good idea. 'go,' they pushed themself, 'it'll do you no good to be so isolated. you don't have to talk to anyone, but at least be in an area with other people.'
and so, they went in without another word, grimacing at the jingle of the lil bell that signaled a new patron entered the tavern. thankfully it was a rather busy day, tables and barstools nearly completely taken up by people in varying levels of soberness. no one paid attention to the noise, the ringing too quiet in comparison to the chatter. wringing their hands to temporarily calm the anxiety bubbling in their gut, they approached the bar. a little drink may help...something comforting and warm to combat the emotions in their heart. they somewhat hoped diluc would be manning the bar, finding extra comfort in his presence, but they saw the mop of brunette hair when they entered instead. that's fine, charles is a nice guy.
when they were able to squeeze in and order their drink, they slid a tiny sheet of paper across the countertop with their order, thankful storm planned ahead to write it down in case they either forgot it or weren't up to speaking. carmen patiently waited for their moonlit alley to be finished, glancing around at the patrons filling the tavern this evening.
it wasn't the most crowded that they've seen, but it was close. a group was playing cards in the corner, nimrod was in his spot downing his barbatos-knows-what-number bottle of beer, or whatever the guy liked to drink. they almost got excited when they saw green, only to frown upon realizing it was someone else- six-fingered josé, if ghost recalled right. their heart ached, the feelings before only growing worse.
it didn't take long for the drink to be finished, and once they gave charles the mora and a thankful smile, they crept upstairs to the second floor. the revelry downstairs seemed a little quieter from up here, and a few more tables were open, thankfully. carmen quickly found their way to a table close to the balcony door, in case they decided later on that fresh air might soothe them a little.
they tried to distract themself with the drink, but kept finding themself glancing up every time the door to the tavern opened, expecting to see the traveler or their own partner.
'i wish i went along too..' they glumly thought, setting their cup down to reach for their pump and give themself the proper amount of insulin. multiple times where they've forgotten, and they didn't want to make themself feel worse. emotions are one thing, but a high blood sugar adding onto the irritability was way worse. once they did so, they resumed sipping at the mug.
the pair went off to sumeru for a little while, last carmen recalled. 'or was it fontaine..?' they thought, using their free hand to feel for the dodo-communication device in their pocket.
apparently it was from klee's mother, which somehow wound up in venti's hands, and then daze's own with the promise that they'd both use it to keep in touch while he was exploring with lumine.
and then a month passed, with very little contact.
rationally, they knew it was likely from being too excited with whatever was going on abroad, or perhaps they didn't have the time to talk. they didn't mind at first, but days passed on and it was rather evident to the elf that it hurt more than storm cared to admit. they felt duller and duller as days passed on, and dark circles under their eyes only got worse.
distractions only worked so many times. even trying to think of happy memories made their eyes burn with tears yet unspilled. the more they tried, the more it hurt when they only heard silence in return. the device had limited uses, carmen briefly recalled, which didn't help much in the slightest, making them more cautious in their attempts to reach their partner.
they tried to drink away the pain with a non-alcoholic drink, but after the second trip downstairs to get another, they couldn't bare to go a third time.
they alternated between slow sips at the extra sweet moonlit alley left in their mug, and letting themself space out as silent tears fell from their cheek and onto the table. carmen remained for most of the evening, cradling their head in their arms and hiding their swollen eyes and quivering lips beneath black fabric and teal hair. they tried to imagine being comforted by their beloved bard, but that only seemed to make things worse.
who knows, maybe he'll be back tomorrow... one can only hope, right?
#carmen's writing#og posts#canon x oc#oc x canon#(referenced sorta)#venti x oc#carmen's ocs#oc x venti#venti#unrelated but i might give carmen my vae/vaer prns too bc i think they're neat#idek how many words but idc either honestly#alcohol tw#carmven
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
It took me until episode 3 of Junior Year, but I've finally found out what I found kind of strange about the Theological (mis)Adventures Of Kristen Appelbees. To get ahead of the Kristen Discourse train for a second, this isn't a criticism of either of the show or Kristen, just an observation about cultural differences that might be interesting for someone who isn't me maybe? Fantasy High spoilers for all three seasons below the cut.
Ok, so this is about what religion is in the Fantasy High universe, and I suppose in D&D in general. At the start of Junior Year in particular, much hay is made over how Adaine's last deity YES!/YES? has ceased to be on account of being abandoned by its first and last follower, Kristen, who also did a so-so job at getting the good word out there. This ties in with the larger mechanics of the divine, which I will concede is very consistent, in that the gods rely on mortals for their ongoing existence, and also are shaped by their followers, see how Galicaea is a bit of a self-hating mess because her (majority high elven) worshippers would Very Much Not Prefer to talk about that whole werewolf/animalistic aspect of their goddess.
Now, this is a very human/sapient mortal/sapient almost-mortal-centric way to structure the universe of your story, which is what we've come to expect from Brennan and his knack for character-centric storytelling and general humanism. It is also, however, the structure that ends up putting what I would argue is an unreasonable amount of weight on the shoulders of the clerics of the world, including our favorite disaster lesbian.
Now, as a teen, I suppose it isn't unusual to feel like the whole world is on your shoulders. Hell, I suppose it's a feeling Kristen is very much used to as the ex-chosen of Helio. Still, even the abstract "my child will do everything right"-pressure kind of pales in comparison as far as mental stress is considered compared to "if I do not Class Well Enough this living thinking entity that functionally lives in my head and who I have personally picked a name for and now have a bit of a fraught relationship with will capital D-die and it will be my fault," which is frankly such a heavy narrative sword of Damocles that it makes me, as a viewer, too stressed. The stakes are too high, and for a school to require a teenager to navigate a relationship with the divine for a passing grade feels unreasonable even on a level past "getting your own school supplies and the school supplies are a frankly unreasonable amount of diamonds and other rare arcane items," or even "Fig has to start going to class" for that matter.
Granted, I'm sure this will read a lot closer to truth or storytelling-friendly truth simulacra for those who have gone through school with a learning disability or autism, ADHD, or other challenges that school has historically not been great at making allowances for, and the way the third episode, in particular, was very good at leading the thoughts in that direction did a lot to assuage my anxiety. "Relax, you're supposed to think this is a bullshit sort of situation to strand poor dear Kristen in, and her ending up in a similar holding pattern as she started Sophomore Year is a sign of her still not getting the help she needs, not an unflattering reflection on her or an unreasonable dickishness of the plot."
Now you may be asking "Hey Peebs, wasn't this supposed to be about some cultural stuff, what's with all the soul gazing?" and yes, you retain stuff well, at least as it pertains to rambling quasi-essays on streaming content. I'll get to the point I'm making anon.
Part of why the above situation and interaction between worldbuilding, character, and plot felt so gravely upsetting to me, I think, is because it does seem to follow what I've come to understand as a uniquely American understanding of religion, or perhaps if I were to make a less sweeping statement, an understanding of religion that differs from my own and from most models of religion in Europe that I know of personally.
Just to lay my cards bare before I go on, I am not religious myself, in most aspects I'm staunchly atheist and/or agnostic. I have, however, grown up around religion, as being religious, and Protestant Christian in particular is viewed as the norm in Norway. The Norwegian Monarch is required by law to be protestant Christian, no-one's forced to go to church as a part of schooling but at least when I was young it was heavily encouraged, leading me to Christmas vacation being heralded with a school-sponsored semimandatory church service where one might sing psalms with lyrics like "Gud Er Gud om alle mann var døde/ Gud Er Gud om alle land lå øde" (God is God if all men were dead / God is God if all fields were barren [alternatively: all lands were desolate]. My translation.) Granted, Norway is a bit of an outlier in Europe in that much of our adherence to religion can be viewed as an adherence to tradition, although I will concede that might be the atheistic contrarian in me speaking.
Either way, this idea of "god's there whether you believe in Him or not, dude" seems typical of the European approach to the Abrahamic religions to me, and to the degree that the individual is considered at all it is in the "ok, so how do I save my own sinful ass in all of this" sense, whether the saving is in a vague uplifting sense Protestants seem to favor or the "or God is going to kick my ass most severely..."-vibe that Catholics seem to go for.
American religion, especially the practice of evangelical protestant Christianity, seems to be a lot more invested in the role of the individual. God needs soldiers as the worrying rhetoric will occasionally go, and to be a good soldier one must not only be A Good Person and Do Good Things, but one must also seek to proselytize and grow God's ranks. The question of religion and its role in society has little to do with tradition and is only interesting in the fate of the soul as a passing concern in the form of cosmic justice or retribution. On a societal level in evangelicism, religion is a question of the soul of society, and the only way to countenance the sources of evil in the world, be they real or imagined, is to spread the word, to convert, and to maintain a level of purity and cohesion that seems to always be just outside of reach.
I can imagine this is a deeply stressful way to live your life, just the thought of not being good enough for a divine being strikes me personally as absurd, but I digress.
It's not exactly a stated dogma of evangelical protestantism that God Needs Humans, but it is very easy to extrapolate it from the way the evangelical movement seems to answer the Problem Of Evil with the seeming cosmically ordained need for human struggle, I.E there is evil because god wants to/needs to test us and/or because god can not rid the world of evil without also ridding humans of their free will. It is perhaps related to how the evangelical blocs will have convictions with religious zeal about otherwise secular questions, such as women's healthcare and foreign politics, albeit part of that is no doubt just good ol' fundamentalism, which isn't a uniquely American idea but boy howdy has it taken root over there.
So that sure was a lot of words to say "The idea of the Cleric being a necessity for a divine being/god to exist in FH seems strange to peebs because Peebs grew up in a culture that's dominated by a version of Christianity that doesn't believe in a personal relationship with God or in the possibility of affecting any change on the divine or His Plan (TM)" huh? Well, I've been trying to dissect my own reaction to the initial Junior Year storyline for a bit now. It has been an interesting journey of discovery since I haven't really been blindsided by an aspect of American culture for a while now. I guess this one snuck under the radar because a lot of American media strives to be secular but not too much so, to not alienate potential viewers and as such ends up being kind of mealy-mouthed and centrist when it comes to questions of faith.
I guess this is another notch in the belt of my "give serialized storytelling that isn't inherently absurd or abhorrent to you three episodes to stretch its legs before you make any judgments"-approach, huh?
#dimension 20#fantasy high junior year#fhjy#peebs thinks#I had a thought spill again it seems#classic “apologize for the length - didn't have the time to write something shorter” here#If perchance I have offended think but this and all is mended: “Oh god please don't take my wild thought-spills as authoritative”#a little self-deprecating humor there#I've been trying to stop but it is a very hard habit to break
1 note
·
View note
Text
tw // talk of anti-trans violence, school shootings, just anxiety venting
Going to have to spend today calming myself down and convincing myself that I am not going to be killed on campus today. No, it doesn't happen a whole lot here in Canada. Yes, it has been happening more frequently in the last few years. My campus especially seems to have a history of violence and random attacks (there were several just last year and it freaked the fuck out of everyone), but I'm especially on high alert ever since the attack at the University of Waterloo. Which was a specific attack on gender studies students by a recent graduate. And then of course we have the van attack in 2018, and Polytechnique --- hard to forget. So with all of my classes having very obvious titles and being easily accessible in the main building, I'm obviously very nervous. I am also visibly queer, so. There's that. I don't know how I somehow forgot how scared I was on campus last year. Maybe I didn't forget and I was just distracted. Took me hours to fall asleep last night because I was just tormented with the most violent intrusive thoughts and ruminations in a long time. Horrific scenarios going through my head...
Anyway, if some guy wants to enter my classroom with hate-motivated intent and a weapon, there's literally nothing I can do. There's virtually no safety at my school. Most of the classrooms are as small as a cardboard box and have only one entrance/exit, and no door lock. They've increased campus security, but it has done absolutely nothing. The security guards are just bored 22 year old assholes with hardly any training. Not that it hasn't always been a scary time to be queer and to study gender studies, but I need to reiterate that this is a bad time. Not going to sugar-coat it because people get scared. This is a bad time in history for queer, especially trans, people, and those who study feminist theory and gender studies. Canada has issued a travel advisory warning for queer people NOT to travel to the U.S. With this anti-trans, "anti-woke" crusade taking off and really bleeding into Canada, things are not good.
I just want to hurry up and graduate. I'm definitely not alone in not feeling safe. I've talked to plenty of other gs students. Too bad self-defense weapons are virtually illegal here. Maybe I should take up boxing like I wanted to uhhhhhhh five(?) years ago. Not sure how to calm myself down while I'm on campus. CBD makes me crazy and paranoid. Alcohol makes me irritable and hopeless. Psychiatry is a Joke, capital J. But CBD pure indica it is, I guess. There's a dispensary on every fucking corner anyway. Begging the universe to just let me graduate without incident. If anything, all this fear is just fodder for me to finish this degree. Can't be invaluable if people literally want to kill you over it.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Game of Thrones - 15 SANSA (pages 133-146)
Sansa's lunch date with the queen is cancelled when folks from the capital arrive to meet the procession, so Joffrey takes her on an unsupervised date in the countryside that goes well, until it doesn't, and then it goes Very Wrong, Very Quickly.
-
The Septa was not appeased. "You're a good girl, Sansa, but I do vow, when it comes to that creature, you're as willful as your sister Arya." She scowled. "And where is Arya this morning?"
"She wasn't hungry," Sansa said, knowing full well that her sister had probably stolen down to the kitchen hours ago and wheedled a breakfast out of some cook's boy.
Oh, that's interesting. "when it comes to (Lady), you're (as) willful"
And again, with Sansa not taking an easy path to getting her sister in trouble.
"I hate riding," Sansa said fervently. "All it does is get you soiled and dusty and sore."
I know I need to stop projecting, but it's too late. I've head-canoned Sansa as autistic until further notice.
('Elle Woods' Autism specifically which isn't a medically real thing, but just a term coined by a youtuber iirc, for the type of "high functioning" (hang on, sorry just threw up in my mouth a lil.) autism found in girls where they become over invested in stereotypically girly things because it provides them with a set of rules to follow (and also keeps them away from some non-fun sensory squicks like dirt!) which some people think Elle Woods of Legally Blond might have. Not all autistic people are maths geniuses.)
-and lizard-lions floating half submerged in the water, like black logs with eyes and teeth.
Crikey! Lizard-lions are just alligators or crocodiles, aren't they?
Still Sansa wrenched away from him, and the Hound laughed, and Lady moved between them, rumbling a warning. Sansa dropped to her knees to wrap her arms around the wolf.
...
-and Sansa realized that the two stranger knights were looking down on her and Lady, swords in their hands, and then she was frightened again, and ashamed. Tears filled her eyes.
...
Sansa knew the name, and now courtesies that Septa Mordane had taught her over the years came back to her.
Lady is a Service Dog. That is Sansa's Emotional Support Wolf.
No, but it is interesting (to me) that 'shame' ranks up there with fear for Sansa in this moment, because this whole exchange reads... look, let's just say: the head-canon is not getting less head-canoned.
I noticed she also had some serious sensitivity to embarrassment, but she recovered pretty quickly once she got to start basically info dumping, when she's sharing knowledge from one of her special interests. Yeah, I'm just going to see how long I can read Sansa as Autistic~
Sorry if that was not the takeaway you expected from this read through~
He was so gallant, she thought. The way he had rescued her from Ser Ilyn and the Hound, why, it was almost like the songs, like the time Serwyn of the Mirror Shield saved the Princess Daeryssa from the giants, or Prince Aemon the Dragonknight championing Queen Naerys's honor against the evil Ser Morgil's slander.
Hmmmm, I'll give her Joffrey did tell of the Hound, but Ser Ilyn? Mmmmmm...
Oh, Also:
Neeeeeerd! jk, I love her. She is literally a member of Fandom. *Absolutely anything happens: "omg this is just like my blorbos! this totally has my ship's main vibes!"*
The touch of Joffrey's hand on her sleeve made her heart beat faster. "What would you like to do."
Be with you, Sansa thought, but she said, "whatever you'd like to do, my prince."
Joffrey reflected a moment. "We could go riding."
"Oh, I love riding," Sansa said.
You know, like a liar.
No but seriously, babe, I have done this, do not do this, faking your interest just to get along with someone is so taxing. Also, the touch making her heart beat faster could be anxiety, that's a thing that happens when strangers touch people. Anxiety.
No, but autism hc aside, she is trying so hard right now, willing to do something she really doesn't like just to spend time with the boy she's (as far as she knows) going to marry, trying to get to know him, to like what he likes. Unfortunately, he's a piece of complete trash.
She wanted to hit herself for being so slow. Her prince would never lover her if she seemed stupid.
Knowing how lowkey not good the mental health space around the Stark children was at Winterfell... oh look, a flag from the red end of the spectrum. Sorry but this smacks lightly of emotional abuse and reasoning "if I am X, I will be worthy of love."
They dined on trout fresh from the river, and Sansa drank more wine than she had ever drunk before. "My father only let's us have one cup, and only at feasts," she confessed to her prince.
"My betrothed can drink as much as she wants," Joffrey said, refilling her cup.
They rode more slowly after they had eaten. Joffrey sang for her as they rode, his voice high and sweet and pure. Sansa was a little dizzy from the wine.
Joffrey took her out unsupervised and got her drunk you say?
-but Joffrey was in no mood to listen. The wine had made him wild.
And this is why underaged drinking is Bad. Like Joffrey, who, lbh, probably would have picked this fight stone cold sober.
Sansa was afraid. "Arya, you stay out of this."
*The violent t(w)eenage version of the "well that escalated quickly" meme
oh, if only Nymeria had finished the job, and the girls got their story straight. "oh, it was horrible, the pack of wild dogs came out of nowhere, Joffrey tried to defend us, but they just surrounded him and mauled him to death, if it hadn't been for Nymeria, his valiant dying efforts would have been in vain. UwU"
#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#game of thrones#got#sansa stark#a chapter a day reading#haters get an automatic block okay?
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
oooh, camellia for the ask game?
camellia ⇢ what were you like when you were younger? do you think you’ve changed a lot?
Ohhhh this one's gonna be sad kinda (mostly for me).
Holy SHIT this got long, throwing this under a cut. Read or ignore at your discretion.
I used to be pretty hyperactive and rambunctious as a kid. I loved being a tomboy, I loved wearing paint-stained button-downs, I loved to run, I loved pretending I was a dragon tamer and an astronaut and a warrior cat and a fairy, I loved riding horses (I only did it like once or twice but I loved it), I loved snakes and bugs and lizards and all sorts of creepy crawlies, etc, etc.
And then I got shy. Really shy. I never raised my hand in class and I got all panicky when I was called on. I didn't have friends really, because everyone thought I was weird (and they were right lol) and I dressed weird, too. I was bad at sports and I made bad jokes. I got picked on a lot, and when I told my teachers, they rolled their eyes and told me I needed a thicker skin. So I got shy. I would always bury my head in my hands on my desk and hoped everyone would leave me alone. This lasted through the end of elementary school and into middle school.
In middle school friends happened to me, but they didn't actually like to hang out with me. I got into anime (shudders) and started drawing. I wasn't very good at it but everyone started knowing me as "that weird girl that draws in class all the time." I also started writing a lot, and even got into a writing conference in the 5th grade (I panicked and didn't write anything the whole time). I also wrote my first essay on capitalism and climate change then (I'm sure it didn't make any sense at the time). I hated math and science. Like, really hated it. I also started calling myself stupid and talentless then and started believing it. I think these things are related somehow.
I got really into clarinet playing around this time, too. I fell deeply in love with it and my teachers were so proud of how good my tone was. I joined marching band and pit orchestra in high school and found my home in music. I just... I loved it so much. I felt safe playing my music. I felt like I could actually do things for once (and I got really arrogant about it too, always bossing around the clarinets that didn't get as good of a chair placement as me). I made first chair each year.
I still hadn't come out of my shell though, but I had started to get a reputation as being somewhat funny. I liked to act, even if I didn't go out for plays. I loved to write satirical essays and I fell in love with Jonathan Swift's "A Modest Proposal" at the age of 17. And I thought to myself, I want to be an English teacher and do some writing on the side. Because that was what I was good at.
Nope!
A friend had hooked me up with a Psychology class and I was like "whatever I guess I'll try it, I need credits anyways" and I. Instantly fell in love lmao. It just came so naturally to me. We're talking straight A's all the time, baby. I wrung my fingers about taking a college course in it my last semester of high school (I was convinced I was too stupid to get into College despite being an honor's student) and whaddaya know. I loved that, too. More A's. So I packed my bags on the English Teacher Front and went to college to be a therapist or some shit.
I hated my first year of college. I worked at a hot dog stand and came home smelling like ketchup and beef every night. I quit playing clarinet due to social anxiety and I made absolutely zero friends. Classes were easy until they weren't (Biology was the worst), and I hated myself and wanted to die. I did find some solace in fandom, however - I joined tumblr and became a Tolkien blog and started crafting my own sequel to the Lord of the Rings. That was literally the only reason I kept living at that point - for my weird characters and my extensive google docs about them. And for the Schmidt. What's a Schmidt, you ask? Why, it's coffee, half-and-half, and white chocolate and caramel syrup, all served at the local campus cafe. Delicious.
Anyways. I transferred to a lesbian all women's college and continued my education there. I was forced out of my shell kicking and screaming through courses on "social interaction" and it... actually worked, I'll be damned. I started participating in class more. I wasn't making friends, but I actually talked to people now. My grades shaped up a bit too (not that they were low before, I just happened to be putting a little more effort into my classes. I still wrote my experimental paper the day it was due though. I ace'd it against all odds. Procrastinator's bluff). Whatever. I became a tutor, study group leader, mentor, etc etc. I got an award for psychology and endeared myself to my professors. I graduated with high honors and fell in love with a trans man and decided I was also a trans man blah blah blah got a job at a medical school + hospital yada yada yada this paragraph needs to end already.
Okay. Three years later. I'm an entirely different person (literally). I like medicine now, despite being extremely squeamish (working on that bit). I like space again, despite having hidden that aspect about myself for all my life. Like I really love space. I can't ever be an astronaut sadly, but maybe one day I'll get to work for NASA or something. I'm trying not to get my hopes up though. Only the best of the best end up there.
What else... idk, I'm somehow more mentally ill than I ever was, but at the same time, more stable? I'm deeply in love with my two partners and have survived two hospitalizations. I'm trying to get off my cocktail of medications because it turns out psychiatric meds kiiiiinda don't work that well but it is what it is. Also I'm a witch now. Aaaaand I'm going back to school in the fall, for pre-med. Yeah.
Okay well that was. Way longer than it needed to be so. Yeah. Thanks for the ask :)
#asks#ailinu tag#i... am SO sorry this is so long#ridiculous.#anyways#tagging this as#rot's tragic backstory#this isn't even the half of it kajsdjkd i didn't even talk about the abuse#anywaysss
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
saw a link for a qpoc group in my state and got excited and was gearing up to go even if it meant driving a few hours if they meet out at the capital. click on it and the page is deleted. try to search for it, see if they just remade or hosted elsewhere something, no, it's just gone lol. I really hate it here.
it's hard to find other trans people in person, it's even harder to meet anyone who isn't white. I think I've met literally 2 other adult trans poc here and one of them is my therapist(which I'm very lucky for, I'm not looking that gift horse in the mouth, but obv she's not someone I can talk to regularly or be friends with which is something I need rn). the other is an ex metamour who handles poly stuff differently and kept me at arms length, which I respect, but it's like. damn dude... it's so fucking lonely out here. I really do stick out like a sore thumb in every room I walk in in this city. I feel the way people's eyes linger on me when I go into stores. into bathrooms. I notice when people let the door hit me or they get the same disrespectfully amused air as my high school bullies did if I approach with a question. even waving off consistently being the only poc who shows up the trans support group is... tiny, involves icebreaker questions that make me very anxious, and frequently has the twice monthly meetings cancelled at the last minute. I still try to go sometimes but even when I do I usually just sit quietly and listen to other folks for the vast majority of the meetings. I'd love to improve my social anxiety but I genuinely don't know how to do that here. I have actually justifiable reasons to be wary of folks, including at the support group, which has had weird drama shit in the past from adults being shitty to minors to embezzlement to the founder of the parent program personally treating me like absolute shit when she was my boss in the past lol. I've gone solo and sober to see drag at the bar but that's not exactly any easier of a context to Meet People in for me! I really don't know what else to try. I have very literally been an admin in a separate trans social group we were trying out here at one point, have helped plan and been part of running events even! dozens of claims of interest, but one person showing up if we were lucky. others in the community have clearly tried in a few different ways too but it always falls apart here- community is a real generous word for it. it feels like a ghost town. call me dramatic but it feels like I might as well be a ghost too, and like living here's gonna actually make me into one if I can't figure out how to leave at some point lol. fuck this place.
0 notes
Text
1811
What would you say is the worst part of high school, period?
I was actually fine with high school for the most part – my bigger problem was with the very nature of the school itself since I went to a Roman Catholic school. Doing a bunch of church shit several times in a month was the norm, dress code was super suffocating, and 'prom' was not only mandatory attendance but was also instead called 'benefit dinner' because apparently prom is too scandalous. There were also secret student spies assigned by the guidance counselors to tip off whoever was thought to be in a same-sex relationship. I also had a male teacher make a remark about my boobs once. :) Made me hate the concept of religion for as long as I live.
A few weeks into college I was already wearing shorts and sleeveless tank tops to campus because that's how freeing it felt.
What is your favorite color of apple? Red, green or yellow?
I don't eat apples.
How old will you be on your mother’s 68th birthday? Is that ‘old’ to you?
I will be 41. Yes, the idea of being in my 40s makes me a little dizzy lol.
Ever thought you were dying of something you weren’t even close to having?
Yeah, isn't that a running joke on the internet too cos most of us have felt anxiety/paranoia over this?
Ever want to be a doctor? Is it because of all the hospital shows?
I considered being a doctor very briefly but it wasn't because of medical shows. I just genuinely enjoyed learning about the human body and with memorization skills coming naturally to me, I thought that could've been a possible route.
What do you think of all these reality shows that try to alter personality?
Wdym, like Dr. Phil? Idk they're trashy for the most part but boy are some segments guilty-pleasurely fun to watch hahaha.
Where are your favorite pair of shoes in the whole world right now?
In our storage area under the stairs.
Do you live anywhere near a mall? Which one exactly?
I live near several malls. Philippines might as well be the Mall Capital of the World because of the sheer number we have of them.
If you were dying who would you say goodbye to first out of everyone?
Probably my family because it would be too excruciating for me to be saying goodbye to others first without them having any idea about what's going on.
Are you someone who actually likes to babysit children?
Depends on the kid, which automatically disqualifies me from being a good babysitter lol. I'm picky with kids and will avoid ones that are rude/talk back/yell everything everywhere/throw their toys/cry if they don't get what they want/are hooked to gadgets/will do the opposite of what you ask them to do, thinking they're being charming. So...most of them haha.
Do you ever have those ‘ah ha!’ moments? Do those annoy you?
Uh, I guess so? That's very vague though, and I can have aha moments that are good, that are bad, or when I realize how dumb I'm being about something.
When is the next time you’ll eat a cupcake, if you know when?
I have no idea :( I love cupcakes but there just aren't a lot of shops that sell them, and when I find one it's always so so so expensive.
Does your family go on a lot of vacations? Are they more boring or exciting?
For my own standards yeah it's already a lot for me! We go for 1-3 times every time my dad is home, which comes up to 2-6 a year. Our itineraries have considerably slowed down the older we've all gotten, but I like it just like that.
Where did you last buy socks from? What do those socks look like?
Uniqlo. It was a pack of three pairs - one is white with blue accents; one is maroon; and the last one is grey.
Do you ever lay in the grass and look up at the sky, just because?
I don't lay in the grass because uhhhhhh red ants and stuff lol, but I like looking at the sky whenever I can. I did that yesterday in UP while I was people-watching :)
When do you normally go to sleep on the weekends?
Anywhere between 2-5 AM.
Have you ever met someone with the same ‘biggest fear’ as you?
Yes, mine is fairly common.
Do you ever have movie nights with your significant other?
I don't have a partner but even when I did we didn't really do this.
Would you rather write with a pen or a pencil? Why is this?
Pen. I don't like how pencils get dull so quickly.
Who was the last person to call you fat, if anyone at all?
Not exactly 'fat' and they didn't mean it in a demeaning manner but my mom referred to me as having put on a little weight over the years, but I didn't find it offensive because it's generally true anyway.
What color skin does the last person you danced with have?
That would be the rest of the 32,000 capacity crowd that I watched Seventeen with, and it would be my best guess to assume 99% of us were brown. I saw some foreigners too but super few and far between.
Are you afraid of being kidnapped if you go outside at night time?
Yes. I never walk outdoors in the evenings unless I'm at BGC.
Has your mother ever called your school because of your grades?
No but that's kind of shitty. I had bad grades because I didn't put in enough effort, so I would have found it embarrassing if she went that route.
The best field trip you’ve ever been on; where was it to anyway?
Answered this in a previous survey, but tbh just any field trip where we went to museums. I actually credit my school for kickstarting my love for museums because in Grade 1 we went to a couple of small local ones. It was such a fun and profound experience and I never stopped searching for new ones to visit from there.
In the next twenty minutes, what will you be doing and where will you be?
I'll still be in my room but probably watching YouTube videos to prepare for bed.
Do you work? If so, have you ever been fired, then rehired from the place?
I do work, but have never been fired.
Can you tell when people are lying or telling the truth?
That's hard to answer. Some people can lie effortlessly.
What would you say your average word per minute time is on the keyboard?
Anywhere between 85-100.
What is your least favorite class in school? Why is this?
Chemistry, trig, calc. They were impossible for me to understand and I also resented those classes a little bit because it definitely made me think, "I'm headed towards journalism school anyway, what is the point of ever learning this?" like it was just a waste of time for me knowing I'll never have to apply the more complex concepts in the real world.
Do you bite your fingernails or tap them on desks?
I can't bite them at the moment because I have braces lol, but I used to do it. An alternative I go for is to just tinker with them enough to tear the long nails off.
Have you ever wanted to be in a band? What position exactly?
I wanted to be a drummer once but that was more of a fantasy. I never actually had the goal to be in a band.
Do you ever call your cousins just to talk to them randomly?
Nope.
When did you last spend the night at someone’s house?
Hans' house. Well technically we arrived at his house from Thailand at like 5 AM and then we all took a nap there til noon, but I'm still counting it. This was back in June.
Do you find any of your friends’ parents creepy or really mean?
Reena's dad has an attitude problem and I don't like him, and fortunately I've never had to interact with him save for one instance where he tried to be snooty with me after I picked up Reena from their place. I threw it right back at him but just under my breath.
Do you ever have to wash your clothes at someone else’s house?
I haven't done that.
When is the next time you’ll go to the library? Why is this?
I don't have plans to do that. I don't even know enough about our public libraries to know which ones are the best to visit.
Do you know how to play pool? Are you any good at it?
Nope and nope.
Are you someone who likes to get in arguments or fights a lot?
No.
0 notes
Text
man, if you went back in time and told 6th grade me what high school would look like—
“so it starts off with a pandemic. don’t leave the house. then there’s the paralyzing social anxiety. yeah no you can’t go to the store without picking your hands apart from fear. anyways then you fell in love with your best friend—no, not her, she’s accidentally ghosting you, you’re OTHER best friend—then experience depression for the first time ever. cool, huh? after that you meet this one guy who you almost date! but then you think that you’re a lesbian for half a second so you turn him down and later cut him off after he’s kinda mean to you. then it turns out that he’s kind of disgusting and really weird and rapey. so then you have a pretty good year until the depression hits AGAIN, except this time it’s worse. but it goes away. then you fall for the girl you hate at the moment, kay? and you’re really gay and mopey about it. so cut to four months later and the depression is the worst its ever been, and you start making yourself to throw up as a weird form of self harm. you really want to die but you’re afraid of killing yourself and you don’t want to hurt the people around you. but then season four of stranger things comes out and your depression gets better! and you accidentally tell your best friend you were in love with that you used to be in love with her, but she doesn’t notice. anyways later this summer you stay up until 4 in the morning to talk to the girl you currently like—yeah the one you hate—because she’s in europe and you’re gay and have a massive crush. yeah also this is only like halfway through high school. then comes junior year and it seems like it’s going pretty good! you drink for the first time, that’s kinda cool. you’re a massive lightweight. but then, in december, the girl you’ve been pining after for 10 months kisses you!! and you start dating!!! and you come out to her as trans and it goes really well!!! oh yeah you’re trans btw. just so you know. but then you kinda blow her off a ton because of bad anxiety. oh and also a couple months earlier you had a paranoid breakdown in your basement during a sleepover. yeah you thought there were shadow creatures trying to take you. then had another one a couple days later and called it the Fear. yeah the capital F is important. anyways fast forward i think you’re in love and you tell her (well she tells you first because she loves you too) and then later on in may you’re a hot mess and start to starve yourself and cut yourself but only a little bit because she tells you that she can’t be with you if you’re going to keep going like this and it snaps you out of it and you realize how fucked up what you’re doing is and you desperately want to live. then comes the hallucinations—yeah, you realize that the “hypnogogic hallucinations” was just plain old hearing things—and you have more paranoid episodes! and then you go to new york city alone and it gets WORSE!!!! and THEN you go to a music festival and your girlfriend tells you that you’ve been losing weight and you realize oh shit the eating disorder actually isn’t fixed and then you have to tell your parents or else her mom will tell them and nobody wants that. anyways now you’re a senior hashtag pogchamp have fun with those voices and “thoughts” that won’t go away because they’ve gotten a lot worse—what? wait why are you crying?”
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
solid-state-1991
Solidstate
winteruls
ㅤ꒰ㅤ୨ 𝒯ℯ𝓉ℯㅤ★ㅤ:
th15-artionde
years and decades
ph--eathers
[ ⛅💖 ]
wordsbysunflower
Poems by Sunflower