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#she’s bad at communicating though. she told me herself
whimsydingbat · 1 year
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if you read this and the first post, I sincerely apologize. you’re getting a hard look at the deepest recesses of my mind, open agape and oozing my most vulnerable thoughts I could ever reveal. they’re words that I need to be said, written. I find I don’t ever learn my lesson unless I talk about it. so, I hope those who care enough to read are receptive.
#she starts not responding as much#she gets a new job. she’s getting busier#she’s bad at communicating though. she told me herself#I respect it. I still text her but I don’t expect a response right away. that’s the mature thing to do right? we’re grown!#I wasn’t sure to what extent she meant that. keep that in your back pocket for later in the notes#anyway flash forward to THIS WEEK. I see her post a tiktok of this guy who looked somewhat like her soon-to-be ex husband.#in the caption she calls him her handsome sweet boy and that she needed no one else#my heart: eviscerated. I am about to faint. I am serious as a heart attack in saying all of this.#regardless of whom I may have mistaken this man for. it wasn’t me. and while we never made time to discuss what we wanted to be#or anything in regards to relationships#aside from us calling each other babe and saying we love each other. feel it needs to be stated: she started it. it doesn’t matter much#I loved her too. I didn’t realize how much I still loved her until we started talking again. it hit deep upon realization#on mobile so can’t read the tags fully so idk where I’m at. I confront her on it after she says she’s been on a “affection bender#crux of the whole shit is I told her I don’t want a relationship if she’s gonna post her side piece on tiktok. much less see other men#it hurts she’s would do that. but. I extend empathy. I always will.#she’s not in a great spot. she seems somewhat mentally unstable. she’s on the autism spectrum I learned. manic depressive 2 if memory serves#I loved her all the same. I think I always will. it’s hard not to. I’m convinced she’s my soul mate#but how do I know that. that’s just intuition. and what kind of soulmate? there are 4 kinds and she may be the type to teach me a lesson#anyway. back to being the lost soul I already was. time to snap out of my delusion and get back to the grindstone#maybe that’s where I’ll find my purpose. and kindle the love for life that romance and partnership likely never will#it seems like a perilous journey. that didn’t deter me before#I shouldn’t worry so much#there’s freedom in knowing it won’t get better. even more so I’m letting go of expectation#I’m fucking kidding myself. if I could I’d spend the rest of my life with her and that’s just how I feel. and I’ll love her and care for her#valiant efforts to do so at the very least.#I would dead serious uproot my life in Georgia and move to Cali to be with her. at the drop of a pen I’ll be going breakneck speed down I-10#just to feel her pelt my face with spit while she holds hands with the sweet boy she met.#I am a deeply depraven creature starved of any intimate connection. the one woman I know I could have that with doesn’t want me.#and I’ll let it go. I have to. there has to be more. I’m worthy and I know it.#it’s hard to internalize and know that. that’s where the work needs to be done.
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thisblogisaboutabook · 2 months
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Rainy Season - Part 4
All You Ever
Azriel reflects on his past mistake including the night with Elain. Cassian makes a huge mistake.
A/N: Before reading this chapter please know that I am not condoning cheating or the actions of Azriel or Elain. I do not feel sorry for either of them in any way. I simply enjoy adding a little complexity to the story and selfishly love sprinkling in chaos. Also this is not proofread, I’m exhausted.
And for cauldron’s sake, please just trust the process before yelling at me!!! This is just one chapter from the two biggest idiots involved, not the whole story.
Part 3 Part 5
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Warnings: Not proofread, Alcohol, Language, Unintentional ingestion of an aphrodisiac leading to sex
Azriel
He may have been a fucking idiot but Azriel’s self-awareness was painfully acute. His scar riddled hands were forever tainted with the essence of blood that even her plush lips couldn’t kiss away, his angel mate. What a cruel joke the cauldron had played the day that bond snapped between them. She was resplendent in sun shrouded glory and he was the devil who dragged her down. Just selfish enough to ignore the warning bells that he’d one day fuck it all up, just selfish enough to pull her away from her home and covet her within the walls of Velaris. In the beginning, he’d fought so hard to deserve her though she’d never asked him to. She wanted only him and knew he was unworthy of her, he always had been. It was exhausting - the mask. Constantly trying to hide from her that dark, sadistic side of him that was everything opposite of what she was.
She saw through it, of course. She always had. All she wanted was him, all of him. Begging him to show her beyond the good of him at surface level, she wanted all of his self-proclaimed bad too. She’d told him that dozens of times over the years but dropping that mask meant unpacking so much - so much more ugly than even he was prepared to reveal to himself.
At some point he began to resent her and he knew it wasn’t fair. He resented his perfect, pure, untainted mate. Wasn’t it ironic that she’d shown him everything beneath her own surface numerous times, unveiled that she herself was not the Angel he placed her on a pedestal as. She’d shown him everything and he still viewed her through that near-holy lense.
If only he could have put his stubbornness, his self-loathing aside and realized she would have done the same for him. It was too late for that now.
And now I'm without you, and it took distance to see that losing you, means losing everything
————
Something had been wrong for a while. He ignored it assuming that perhaps it was a mental blockade erected by a combination of fatigue and work tensions. He’d slowly distanced himself from his mate. He knew it hurt her, it hurt him too. His intentions were genuine, sparing her the pain of his own inner turmoil by distancing himself while he worked through it. He was simultaneously aware that he was a fucking bastard for doing so, she deserved an explanation but he couldn’t give it to her yet. He justified it as the lesser of two evils.
Unsurprisingly, the mating bond is a fickle thing. As he distanced himself, a chasm of emptiness opened within him that he’d desperately tried to fill with missions and various courtly duties. Training with the Valkyries helped, being there for Elain through her own struggles….
He took his duty to help her seriously, though it technically was not a duty even assigned to him. A distraction. It was a distraction. Ever the spymaster he spent their initial time together observing her, the things that brought a little bit of life back to those once bright eyes.
He’d sun his wings while she gardened and read across from her in the study, little things so she’d know she wasn’t alone. Eventually she began talking again. At first just a comment here or there but then there was communication, getting to know each other, small talk eventually becoming deeper topics. He learned of her resentment of the choice she felt was ripped from her, left with no time to mourn the loss of her mortal life or consider the implications on her relationship with Graysen because of it.
Not to mention the shock that one of the faces she blamed for being damned to the cauldron, one of the first faces she saw coming out of it was her mate and she was just supposed to accept it? Over time, Elain became a friend. A bright spot to the numbness created by the self-imposed gap between he and his mate. His mate….
It had taken some time to realize that he wasn’t feeling her through the bond, when was the last time he’d felt her? It was becoming fainter and fainter, more faint than it even should be with distance. He’d send feelings to her on occasion. A little spark of joy when he saw a lovely sunset or the moments when his desire for his mate heated his blood so thoroughly he had no choice but to excuse himself for relief by his hand.
He needed her to know he cared, he desired her, he loved her. A little time and space to collect everything he needed to bring to the surface, to give her all of him. He left her feeling like she wasn’t enough but she was everything. He just needed space.
Until she gave him space.
The devastation on her face the day she asked him to leave. Gods, damn him and the hurtful things he’d said. They’d be ingrained in his mind for the rest of his days along with the sound of her sobs as she fell apart before him. He’d done that to his mate. He was responsible for those tears. All because he’d been too selfish and prideful to share all of himself with her.
So, he left. She’d allowed him so much space, he could give her this.
I wish I could love you and make you believe it. It’s all you ever wanted from me
———-
The night with Elain
He couldn’t make it through dinner sober. Rhys insisted everyone get together at the River House for a friendly night of debauchery. Pouring himself a double shot of whiskey, he considered telling Cassian to send Rhys his regards and hole up in the house of wind for the remainder of the night. It was either, go to dinner and deal with all of the questions of “Where is y/n?” and “Why isn’t y/n here?” or deal with Cassian’s well-intentioned but annoying attempts of pressuring him into going, followed by a pout when he’d stand his ground on staying in, and then the inevitable intrusion from Rhys inquiring why he wouldn’t come to dinner.
He loved his chosen family dearly but they were busybodies through and through. All he wanted was to pass the time until he saw his mate tomorrow.
Begrudgingly he threw back his glass, poured another double, then headed to the River House.
Time moved slowly when all there was to do was dwell.
What had happened? He flew slowly to the River House. Going out of his way to circle far overhead of his true home, where his mate was. Was she waiting for him inside? Was she in town? Why couldn’t he feel her? Silence. Just as it had been for months. But the emotions he’d seen in her, they were so real. Shouldn’t they have sparked something in the bond?
As Azriel approached the River House he’d come to the conclusion that tonight he’d inform Elain he’d no longer be able to visit with her as he had been. He’d neglected his mate for far too long, this past week had given him the clarity needed to go home and give his mate his all. He could slowly open up to her, he could do it.
He just needed to make it through the night.
The night went by as usual. Good food, laughter, flowing liquor. He heavily indulged himself in the liquor anything to numb the impatience in waiting for tomorrow.
Feyre and Rhys sat closely together on a lounge, Feyre leaning into him, staring up at him like the stars in the sky.
Cassian and Nesta spent the entire time making bedroom eyes at one another, Cassian whispering dirty promises into Nesta’s ear that made even the queen of smut herself blush, Nesta taking any opportunity to brush her body against his in passing.
Gods, they were so in love it made him sick.
“Home.” He told himself.
“Soon.”
As the evening wound down, Cassian insisted everyone do shots to close out the evening. He was drunk enough that he stumbled carrying in the tray of shots and let out a battle cry of victory over the fact that he managed to not spill any of the liquor.
Azriel should have flown back to the House of Wind a while ago but he needed to talk to Elain.
Nuala and Cerridwen had been on duty with Nyx for the evening, compensated well to work overnight in case he awoke, giving Rhys and Feyre the now rare opportunity to go out to Rita’s. Mor, of course, drug Emerie along and went with them. Given that Amren would rather stick pins in her eyes than go out, she and Varian opted to go back to her place.
Azriel should have gone there, gone back to the River House, gone home and slept in the doorway until his mate let him in.
But he was so drunk. There was no way he was flying anywhere tonight.
Cassian and Nesta brought out a final round of shots. Elain winced, scrunching her nose as she threw it back. Azriel thought she’d be able to take her liquor better by now. Cassian and Nesta waggled their eyebrows suggestively at eachother before throwing theirs back. And damn, if Azriel didn’t wince when he took his shot too. That shit was awful. Had they drank through all of Rhysand’s good liquor? Did Cassian dig this out from the bottom shelf?
Once Cassian and Nesta left for the House of Wind, Azriel took the empty glasses to the kitchen, cleaning up a few of the remaining dishes throughout the seating area on the way. He barely made it into the kitchen before his head began spinning. That last shot had done him in. He couldn’t even remember the time last he’d been blackout drunk. Two centuries ago, maybe?
He still needed to find Elain.
The stairs felt longer and far less steady than usual, taking him more time than he cared to admit to make it up them. His hands felt tingly on the banister and damn, it was hot in the River House. No, he touched his face, flushed and hot to the touch. He was hot.
The tingling was simultaneously uncomfortable and pleasurable, spreading over his body with haste as he neared closer to Elain’s room.
He caught a glimpse of her and her scent hit him like a ton of bricks. Had she always smelled this good?
His breathing increased, nostrils flaring as he took in her scent and fuck - he was hard. It was too late to not say anything now as she stared at him expectantly. The stars in his vision cleared and all he could see was her, zeroed in on her fluttering pulse, those delicate features.
He needed to leave.
He just needed to - shit, what had he come here to say?
Azriel’s shadows whirled reminding him of his mate. His mate. He needed to go to his mate.
He needed to tell Elain something. He couldn’t think straight.
“Elain…”
And that was when she lunged at him.
Well is it too late, and are you too far to turn around and let me be
——————————
Elain
There was nothing the Cauldron loved more than Elain Archeron.
There was nothing the Cauldron hated more than Elain Archeron.
A thin line between the two, really.
She’d spend the rest of her life groveling for what conspired on that night. She never intended to sleep with him. She never, ever intended to hurt Y/N.
She remembered drinking more than usual.
She remembered Azriel finding her in the hallway.
She remembered a sudden rush of warmth, first from her chest, seeping outward through her extremities, low into her stomach and lower, lower.
She remembered Azriel having something important to tell her. She could feel nothing but heat. Her heart racing, breath becoming rapid.
Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his nostrils flaring. Like every single sense was hyper aware of her state. His arousal wafted through the air, his irresistible cedar and chilled mist scent clinging to her like an expensive cologne.
They were so very intoxicated.
They couldn’t do this. If she’d been sober and unaffected by whatever was running through her veins, she would have left. Immediately.
She wasn’t one to wreck a home and Azriel loved his mate so, so much. The way he talked about her, it made Elain jealous. Not of them, not of her. Only jealous that Elain herself had struggled so hard to feel anything toward her own mate for so long. Lucien who played a role in her loss of humanity, Lucien who would do anything to make it up to her, Lucien who never meant for it to happen, who tried so hard to help her, to connect with her, who wanted nothing more than to love her. Lucien.
Then why was it Azriel? Azriel who was standing in front of her clearly affected by her, trying his damndest not to be. Why was she so drawn to him? A mated male.
Was she sweating? It was so hot. Her breasts ached and her blood thrummed through her veins so voraciously that she was certain she’d bleed out at any minute. And if Azriel could see beneath her gown right now, he’d see how tightly her thighs were squeezed together. How desperately she needed release and by the tightness in his pants - she knew he was in the same state.
“Elain…” Azriel spoke. His breath ragged.
And all it took was her name rolling off of his lips for her to close the distance. One kiss. She just needed one kiss to remind herself that this was wrong. To run the other way.
And it only took one kiss to remind her how much the cauldron loved her. How much it hated her.
The moment when she felt the mating bond snap between her and Azriel.
The alcohol, the liquor, the heat, the bond. A lethal combination leading to the biggest mistake of her life.
The night she’d fucked Azriel.
She could never let him know about the bond.
—————————-
Elain woke up with a brutal headache. She would have killed for some headache power. Her room was dark, shadows deepening the onyx black of night as slivers of moonlight lined the edges of her curtains. Still nighttime, then.
Her surroundings slowly came into focus, awareness sharpening as a soft sound caught her attention. Swiftly she turned her head to find Azriel asleep on the other side of her bed.
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no, no, no.
This couldn’t have happened.
What had she done?
She threw on her dress and tip-toed out of the room in a state of panic. She was a sensible female. She knew too well the pain of losing Graysen, a human male, not her spouse, not her mate. But still, his rejection had hurt like hell. Elain would never sleep with another woman- female’s mate. No.
She paced through the library, back and forth, back and forth, praying she didn’t wake anyone up. The walls were closing in on her. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be.
Oh gods.
And the mating bond. How?
Her chest was tight, she couldn’t catch a full breath. She needed out.
Before she could stop herself, Elain fled into the empty street with no destination in mind. Anywhere but here, anywhere but the bed where she’d likely obliterated a marriage. She’d certainly obliterated her dignity.
The starlight illuminated streets of Velaris were endless, winding through alleys and lanes. In her panicked state, Elain had no clue where her feet were taking her as she blindly followed her gut. It wasn’t until she was in front of the door that she realized her heart had made its choice. It knew exactly who to go to, she only prayed it wasn’t too late.
She took a shaky inhale and raised a hand to knock but the door flew open revealing a shirtless Lucien, his bare, muscled chest heaving. “I felt you coming.” He gasped. “Through the bond.”
—————-
Azriel
The sun’s rays illuminated the edge of the curtains. Azriel’s stomach was tight, nausea from the previous night’s alcohol overwhelming him. His bed felt colder than usual, more stiff.
He looked around to find that he’d never left the River House. He was…
He was in Elain’s room.
“Oh, fuck!” He sobbed to himself as the previous night came pouring back to him. Setting his face in his palms, he cried. What the fuck had he done?
Azriel bathed, desperately scrubbing Elain off of him. By the time he was through, his skin was an angry red. He snuck out of the River House, flying to a grassy knoll high above Velaris. The spot where he and Y/N had first made love, where the bond snapped, where he’d proposed. He shifted uncomfortably as he tried to get comfortable, the unease settling in. It was blasphemy to desecrate such a sacred spot with his shame.
“What do I do now?” He asked aloud, the only response the whipping of the wind around him. He didn’t understand what had overcome him. He’d never been so “effected” before, even in his drunkest moments. Once Elain’s lips met his, his brain had shut down, nothing else mattered but the feel of skin on skin. His body needed release and acted on pure primal instinct.
And now, he had a decision to make. He could go home and lay it all out, slightly easing the guilt of holding in his greatest sin while completely and utterly destroying his mate.
Or, he could go home. Show his mate all of the love that he had been withholding for too long now, sweep her off her feet, take care of her and start opening up. Give her his all, even the ugly parts that he kept so deeply hidden.
Gods, she’d given him so many chances and he’d let her down at every turn. There were no excuses for the way he had treated her.
All she’d ever wanted was him, all of him, including those sides he’d never wanted her to see.
Now he could only go home and love her. Love her with everything he had and pray she believed it.
———————-
6 months after Y/N left
Azriel looked in a hallway mirror on his way to Rhysand’s study. Dark circles hallowed out his under eyes. The drink he’d had prior to flying down here did nothing to numb the violent ache within his heart. Would it ever quell? Would this puncture wound ever heal?
It wouldn’t. And he didn’t know if he wanted it to. He was a bastard and deserved every ounce of this isolated misery. Trapped in a prison of his own making. The ache in his chest a constant reminder of the love he’d squandered. And for what? A meaningless night with a pretty female. Had he not had enough of those nights in his life?
Not that Elain would speak to him. Though she had apologized, countless times. It didn’t matter. As far as he was concerned, he was the only one to blame. Occasionally he’d catch Lucien’s assessing glare, an infuriating blend of contempt and pity etched into his features. Azriel didn’t know which he hated more, he didn’t deserve pity.
Azriel’s skin had sallowed. Had he ever been this pale before? And the bargain tattoo on his arm. Fuck, he hated it. After his third attempt to infiltrate the Summer Court, Rhysand gave Azriel the option of a cell in the Hewn City or a bargain.
Ironically the bargain served as a prison of its own. He was not allowed to go anywhere near the Summer Court or communicate with Y/N in any way. The only method of communication he was able to find a loophole with was the tugs on the bond. He’d pull and pull, nothing.
If only he could try to explain, apologize, anything.
Breaking his gaze from the shell of a male in the mirror, Azriel stepped toward the study.
Cassian’s booming laugh barreled through the cracked open door.
“Trust me, Feyre will love it. I’m sure you guys could use a little spark at the end of the day. You’ll be rolling in the sheets all night.”
Rhys only chuckled.
Cassian continued, “Tastes nasty as hell though. Here’s an extra vial, just in case. The first time Nes and I tried it, it didn’t work. Not sure why.”
Azriel let out a huff, stepping into the study. Cassian and Rhys ceasing their conversation in his presence. They’d been painstakingly obvious in not talking about their mates or anything relationship related in front of him since his mate had left. He refused to speak to anyone about why she left, too embarrassed to admit to this bed of his own making. They knew it was his fault and that was all that mattered.
Azriel scowled. “You don’t have to stop talking about your mates just because I’m around.”
Cassian awkwardly raised his arm, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry brother. We just don’t want to make things harder for you than they have been.”
“Considerate.” Azriel sneered, jerking his head toward the vials. “What are those anyway?”
Cassian smirked, “Oh, just some aphrodisiac potions from a new apothecary in Velaris. Really powerful shit. Nes and I-“ Rhys elbowed Cassian. A warning to not take the conversation too far. They could talk of their happy relationships without absolutely rubbing Azriel’s face in it.
Cassian quieted for a moment before continuing. “It tastes gods awful but the payoff is totally worth it. Remember those shots we took after everyone left dinner several months ago? We mixed it into Nes and I’s glasses and didn’t notice the taste. Didn’t work either though. Must’ve been a dud. Lady at the shop gave us a replacement vial the next time we were in and…. well, let’s just say we keep it in stock at the House of Wind now.”
Azriel went preternaturally still. His shadows growing angry as he ground out, “The night you two did a parting shot with me and Elain?”
“Uh…… yeah?” Cassian replied.
And before Cassian could realize what he’d done, Azriel pummeled him. Hauling him out the study doors and onto the lawn, not even making it to the sparring ring before his fists met Cassian’s face - the two Illyrians disappearing into a frenzy of fists and feet and glowing siphons.
The only sound over the impact of their hits and feral growls was Cassian’s confused, booming voice. “What the FUCK, Az!?”
————————————————
A/N: I am sorry for giving you an entire chapter of Azriel and Elain content but I will make it up to you with fluffy Eris and reader content in the next chapter!!!
@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 5 months
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The Golden Ratio - Part Two
Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Derogatory language, angst, smut, virginity loss. Word count: ~4.7k
Chapter summary: Her and Michael struggle with the social side of university, and with each other. Series masterlist.
Author's note: For @assortedseaglass. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.
She is halfway through her second can of Carling, having downed the first as soon as Michael handed it to her, before she feels ready to speak.
In a rare display of empathy, he had handed her a lager the moment he’d opened his door to her, clearly having taken note of her miserable state. There isn’t a mirror in his room, so she has no idea of how puffy her eyes may still be from crying.
The beer is warm, but it’s doing its job and that’s all she really cares about right now. With every pass of the fizzy, amber liquid down her throat she feels lighter - she doesn’t normally drink, so it doesn’t take long.
“Go on then,” she says miserably, drink held in a loose grip between both hands as she perches on the edge of his bed. “You can say ‘I told you so’.”
“About what?” He says, eyeing her carefully, from where he is seated on his computer chair, turned away from his desk to face where she currently sits, the frame of it creaking slightly as he sits forward.
She exhales, keeping her gaze fixed on the ring pull of her beer. “Rich…he’s…he’s been cheating on me.”
“Oh.” 
Michael clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable, and for a moment she thinks he won’t say anything else. Her mouth turns downwards bitterly, thinking it’s best she just leaves.
“I’m sorry,” he finally says, so quietly she almost doesn’t hear it.
Her head snaps up, eyes locking with his, and he leans back as though wary of her reaction.
“For what?” She asks, a mirthless smile tugging at her lips as she cocks her head.
He bows his head, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger. “I dunno,” he glances back up at her, “just something people say, isn’t it? When something bad happens…”
“I don’t want your empty words,” she tells him, setting her can down by her feet before resting back on her palms. “Tell me what you’re really thinking.”
“You’re already upset,” he states matter of factly, “I don’t think that’s wise.”
“Fuck what you think!” She exclaims, shifting back to the edge of the bed. “Tell me.”
“Alright, fine,” Michael sighs, “I think Rich is a fucking loser, and him cheating is the best thing that could have happened–”
“Wow, thanks–”
“No, let me finish. He’s reading art, for fuck’s sake! What could you possibly have in common? You can do better, you’ve got a brilliant mind.”
Brilliant. 
In two years, Rich had never once called her that. A feeling of warmth passes through her as her eyes meet the vibrant blue of Michael’s.
“You really believe that?”
“I know that.”
They stare at each other in silence for a few seconds, and she has no idea what possesses her, but suddenly she is leaning forward, pressing her lips to his. He is hesitant to respond, and when he does it’s chaste and uncertain, a marker of inexperience or unwillingness which she cannot decipher, so she pulls away.
But then he is chasing her, large hands cradling her head as he tugs her back, his mouth finding hers once more. This time the pressure is equal, their breathing heavy as the sticky sound of their saliva grows more significant. 
Moving from the bed, not breaking the kiss, she straddles his lap, ignoring the way the chair wheels back against the desk with a heavy thud. Her fingers thread into Michael’s short, sandy hair, as the embrace deepens, her tongue brushing against his. She grinds herself down upon the rapidly growing bulge she can feel beneath the zipper of his cargo shorts, causing a rumble of approval to vibrate from deep within his chest.
It feels good to feel wanted, but as their hands paw haphazardly at each other through their clothes, doubt creeps into her mind. If this is his first kiss, then it would be his first time too. He is her friend, her project partner, she has just broken up with her boyfriend. None of this is a good idea.
Reluctantly, she pulls away, sheepishly climbing from his lap. They’re both breathing heavily, and Michael gingerly adjusts his glasses as he looks up at her in silent question.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” she says breathlessly, running a hand through her hair, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m a bit pissed and got carried away…”
“Oh,” his eyes widen, as he nods in understanding, subtly moving to adjust himself in his shorts, “of course. I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”
She reaches out a hand, not quite touching him, but wanting to placate him as she fervently shakes her head. “No, no, it’s me taking advantage. I don’t want to ruin things between us. We’re friends.”
“Friends?” The way his eyes light up as he says the word makes her smile, hopeful that she hasn’t caused irreparable damage between.
“Yeah, friends.”
She needs that more than anything right now.
“So, what are you hoping to do once you graduate?” Michael asks, glancing between her and their collective notes.
It’s the day before they are due to present back to Professor’s Byrne’s class, and they have met in the library to go over everything one final time.
In the days since their kiss they have grown closer; sitting next to each other in the remainder of their introductory lectures and meeting up to work on their project, though they both know it is complete and needs nothing else doing to it.
She has grown used to Michael’s intensity, would go as far as to say she is fond of it, and genuinely looks forward to seeing him each day. Oxford feels far less lonely with him by her side.
“Something in the field of medical research,” she says, her fingers playing absentmindedly with the delicate softness of the petals of the sunflower head they’d cut down a few days prior. I read Professor Byrne’s paper before I applied here. It inspired me.”
“The one on biomedical systems?”
Her eyes light up as she smiles at him. “You read it?”
“Hmm. An interesting read, though I much prefer mechanics.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“Yes, I think so. I’ve been reading a lot about random matrix theory. I’d like to go into the field of statistical mechanics.”
“I look forward to reading one of your research papers one day.”
They hold each other’s gaze for a moment, though she doesn’t miss the faintest of pink that tinges his cheeks.
It’s the day of the presentations, and just as she’d suspected, almost every group in the glass has presented back a table relating to how the Fibonacci sequence creates a spiral. Her and Michael share a knowing look, a smug smirk of satisfaction on each of their faces.
Aside from one presentation, which did in fact focus on rabbits, but delved too deeply into mating habits to be considered mathematical, theirs is entirely unique.
She beams with pride as she catches the impressed smile of Professor Byrne from the corner of her eye as they stand at the front of the lecture hall, talking through their findings.
“Very well done, both of you,” she tells them as they return to their seats.
The compliment makes her heart soar, providing her with a rush that lasts long after the class has been dismissed.
“Let’s go to the pub,” she says excitedly to Michael as they walk down Woodstock Road, away from the Mathematical Institute.
“You want to go to the pub? It’s the middle of the day.”
“There are no more lectures today, and I feel like celebrating. We really impressed Professor Byrne.”
Fifteen minutes later they’re sitting in the Lamb and Flag. A bright pink straw juts out of the neck of her bottle of Smirnoff Ice, and she rolls it between her fingers playfully as she watches Michael sip his pint.
The pub is half full with other students, all either skipping lectures or making the most of a free period.
“I told you that focusing on flowers would make us stand out,” she says, unable to suppress her grin.
Michael swallows his beer, wiping his mouth the back of his hand once he’s settled the pint glass back down on the beer mat. “Yeah, you did. We made the rest of the class look like losers,” he says with a chuckle.
“Yeah, we make quite the team, don’t we?”
He smiles, lowering his gaze and nods. There it is again, that adorable pink flush that dusts his cheeks.
“I’m gonna go to the loo. Will you watch my drink for me?”
He nods, watching as she stands and walks to the ladies.
Five minutes later, she can no longer see him at their table as she returns, though both their drinks are still there. She peers around the corner, seeing him standing before a larger group of students. A few she has seen around before, though they’re not on their course.
“So, is she your girlfriend then?” She overhears one of the guys ask Michael.
“No, not my girlfriend,” he responds, “but I’m helping her get over a break up, if you know what I mean.”
She swallows, feeling her heart lurch as she listens, unable to believe what she’s hearing.
“Oh yeah? Really helping her get over it, I bet,” the guy says, earning raucous laughter from the rest of the group.
She storms towards them, deciding she’s heard enough. Despite wanting to sound angry, her voice trembles as she speaks, betraying the tears she’s fighting to hold back. “I haven’t slept with you!” She shouts at Michael, meeting his shocked, wide eyed stare. “I would never sleep with you!”
Turning on her heel, the pub door swings open with a squeak of hinges as she pulls on it. She walks quickly down St. Giles’, swiping angrily at the tears that have begun to roll down her cheeks.
How could he? They were supposed to be friends and he’d talked about her as though she was something cheap. She had thought Michael was different to everyone else.
Back in her room, a hollow ache has burrowed its way into her chest, as she lays flat on her back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. The high of that morning’s presentation is long forgotten as her mind races with thoughts of what she’d overheard in the pub.
Why had he spoken about her like that? Had he been pretending to like her all this time just for the sake of the presentation?
Nausea swirls in her gut as she’s startled from her throughs by a soft knock at her door. She knows who it will be before she even answers it, and is half tempted to simply ignore it, she doesn’t want to see him. However, curiosity gets the better of her and before she can stop herself, she’s moving towards the door to open it.
Michael stands on the other side, posture not as straight as it usually is, as his shoulders slope and he looks at her imploringly. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he looked remorseful, but he is too self assured for such emotions.
“What do you want?” She asks tiredly.
“I’m sorry,” he says meekly, his voice softer than usual. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” she snaps. “So why did you?!”
“When you went to the toilet, that group called me over, started asking questions and I…I don’t know…I just wanted to feel what it would be like to be normal, just once. I–”
She feels anger run hot in her blood, nostrils flaring as he speaks and cuts him off. “I’m not here to act as your fucking cloak of normality, Michael! Fortunately, we’ve already given the presentation.”
“What do you mean?” He asks, brows pinching together with concern.
“I mean that the need for us to continue speaking to one another is over.”
She slams the door in his face, choking back a sob.
Fuck Michael Gavey. She is so incredibly angry with him, she wants nothing more to do with him. And yet she can’t understand why it hurts so much, somehow this feels worse than what Rich had done to her.
The next few days are torturous. She avoids Michael as much as she can, sitting away from him in lectures, looking away when she catches him staring at her. Seeing him online on MSN makes her heart ache, yet she can’t find it in herself to simply block and delete him. It feels too final somehow, worsened by the fact that she stares obsessively at his username, a part of her hoping a message will pop up from him. It never does.
Life goes back to feeling bland and lonely, with nothing to look forward to anymore. She goes about her days, alone, and then sits in her room, alone.
A week later and she is back in Professor Byrne’s class, only this time she seats herself as far away from Michael as she possibly can, trying not to think about how happy she’d felt to present beside him the last time she was in this room.
“So, I hope you all enjoyed your introductory project,” she begins, as she enters the room, setting her briefcase down upon the desk at the front. “It wasn’t just an exercise in presenting what you know about the Fibonacci sequence, it was a test of how well you work in pairs. That being said, the person you worked with will also be the person you are paired with for your upcoming tutorials with me.”
Her heart sinks.
No, no, no.
Chancing a glance over at Michael, she feels herself grow hot as she sees he’s already looking at her, and she quickly turns away. She had hoped to be able to avoid him, but now would have to spend an hour in close confines with him once a week for the remainder of first year.
Her heart races for the rest of the lecture and she finds herself unable to concentrate, hurriedly packing her bag and rushing to leave the room the moment they’re dismissed.
Unfortunately, Michael has beaten her to it and is waiting for her in the corridor. She bows her head, moving to step around him, but he blocks her path.
“I’ll ask for a different tutorial partner,” he says, “you needn’t worry about having to interact with me.”
She looks up at him, her eyes wide with shock. Her throat tightens as she’s met with the sight of his baby blues, boring a hole into her. “Don’t…don’t do that. It would look bad to Professor Byrne. We can both be mature about this.”
Silently she forces away the sadness she feels at him not wanting to be partnered with her. He’s in the wrong, not the other way around, she has to remind herself.
“As long as you’re sure?” He asks, shifting from one foot to the other, clearly feeling as uneasy as she does.
“I’m sure. I’ll see you around,” she tells him, finally stepping past and walking away.
“See you tomorrow,” he calls after her.
What?!
She rifles in her bag, pulling out her freshly printed timetable.
There it is. Tutorial - 9.05 - Prof. Byrne.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
She is filled with restless energy until the next morning. Her leg bounces involuntarily as she sits in the armchair next to Michael’s in the small, stuffy room of Professer Byrne’s office, who is seated opposite them.
Her eyes scan the shelves of books, the various notebooks that are fanned across the table, anything to avoid looking at Michael, until the older woman speaks.
“So, I hope you’ve both come with notes prepared to discuss the various ways of describing and displaying data, as discussed yesterday?”
Her face blanches. She’d been too distracted following the tutorial announcement to pay attention, and hadn’t heard her assign this. She has done no reading or note taking.
Michael glances over at her, taking in her worried expression. “Actually,” he interjects, “I think we may have misunderstood the instructions. We worked on this as a pair too, I hope you’ll forgive us just this once?”
The professor sighs, crossing her legs and tapping her pen against her pad. “Fine. Just this once. But I require individual work moving forward, you aren’t earning your degrees as a joint effort.”
“Understood,” Michael nods, rifling through his papers. “Here,” he says, leaning across and handing her a few sheets. “These are your notes.”
Slowly she takes them from him, her eyes scanning the pages, mostly graphs and tables of data, easy enough to understand and explain, without needing context.
“Thank you,” she says quietly, offering him a small smile.
The tutorial goes ahead without any further hiccups. Michael talks passionately and competently about what he’s read and the notes he’s taken, and she manages to talk through the data points he has provided her. If Professor Byrne suspects any unpreparedness, she doesn’t say.
Once it’s over and they step out into the hallway, she hands the papers back to him. “Why did you do that?” She asks quietly.
“You hadn’t prepared anything,” he says with a shrug.
“That was really nice of you.”
“It’s the least I owe you.”
“Thank you.”
He nods. “It won’t happen a second time. Come prepared next week. I want to hear what that brilliant mind of yours can come up with.”
There it is again. Brilliant mind.
She smiles at that, though her heart twists painfully in her chest as she watches him walk away. This is what she had wanted, she has to remind herself, he’d disrespected her.
Another two weeks go by, and though she is lonely it gets easier not having to avoid Michael. She finds their weekly tutorials are something she looks forward to, enraptured by how fervently he speaks about each topic, and preening with pride as he sits clearly impressed as she talks through her own notes and findings.
She misses him, though she is too proud to admit it. He had hurt her, and she’d told him to stay away. It would be humiliating to crawl back to him after that.
It’s Friday night and she’s in desperate need of a snack, so heads out of her room in the direction of the vending machines, running straight into a group of girls from her floor as they’re walking out.
Their giggles die down to silence as they see her, all offering her awkward, but obviously fake smiles.
“Not out tonight?” One of them asks, she’s fairly certain her name is Annabel, from what she’s heard in the corridors.
She shakes her head. “No, not tonight.”
“You could come out with us? We’re off to The Bull.”
She scans the faces of the other girls, all clearly less than enthusiastic about her presence, then shakes her head. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”
“Oh, darling, I wasn’t asking,” Annabel giggles, grabbing her arm.
Less than thirty minutes later she finds herself squashed around a table in The Bullingdon, next to Annabel. She recognises Felix and Farleigh as part of the group they’ve joined, all passing around Jägerbombs and cigarettes.
She feels out of place and underdressed, in jeans and a long sleeved shirt. The rest of the girls are all dressed up in colourful, sparkly eyeshadow and low cut tops.
Amidst the din of their laughter and seemingly endless chatter, set to a backdrop of ‘SOS’ by Rhianna, she can barely hear herself think. She sips anxiously at her coke, pressing her lips together and shaking her head when Annabel jiggles the 35cl bottle of vodka she’s produced from her bag, asking “want some voddy in that?”
Her focus is pulled away when she spots Michael tucked away in the corner. He’s sitting opposite the guy she saw him with on the first night, whose name she has since learned is Oliver.
Her and Michael lock eyes and he gives her a polite nod before returning his focus back to his own conversation. To be so close and yet so far from him makes her ache.
Try as she might, her gaze keeps wandering back to him, unable to focus on the people around her. She watches with keen interest as he rises from his table, headed towards the gents as Oliver makes his way to the bar.
“Olly! Olly! Over here!” Shouts Felix, and to her surprise, Oliver skulks over, with the body language of someone who’s about to ask them for spare change rather than join their group.
She raises an eyebrow as Felix shuffles over, making space for him to sit down and wonders if Michael will join them too.
Her question is answered when he returns from the toilets, giving Oliver an awkward wave which goes unanswered.
“Shit sorry,” Felix says, “are you here with your mate?”
“Nah, he’s just leaving,” Oliver says nonchalantly, accepting the shot he’s been passed.
From the way Michael bows his head and leaves the pub, she knows that’s the furthest thing from the truth, and shoots Oliver a pointed look.
“‘Scuse me,” she says quietly to Annabel, pushing out of her seat and following after Michael.
The chilly October air is biting against her skin in juxtaposition with the sticky warmth of the pub, as she attempts to follow his lanky gait.
“Michael, wait!” She calls after him, hurrying her steps to catch him up.
He stops, turning to her, a look of defeat on his face. “Go back to your mates.”
“They’re not my mates, and they’re not yours either,” she says softly. “I saw what Oliver did to you, that was out of order.”
“The closest thing I’ve felt to normal since coming here is hanging out with you,” he tells her. “The rest of them are all vapid cunts.”
“Then let’s go back to hanging out again,” she offers, stepping towards him.
“After what I did to you?” He asks, raising his eyebrows.
“I miss my friend,” she says honestly, “come on, we’ll make our own fun, we don’t need those losers.”
He laughs softly, and for the first time in weeks she feels whole again.
There’s an odd sense of coming home as she steps inside of Michael’s room, the welcoming warmth wrapping itself around her like a familiar blanket.
“There’s beer under the desk,” he tells her, closing the door behind him.
She makes her way over towards it, pausing when she sees the papers on top of it.
A First Course in Random Matrix Theory for Physicists, Engineers and Data Scientists is printed in large font on the top page, she lifts it away, seeing that on the second is a simple dedication to her.
Her heart flutters as she draws in a shaky breath. “What’s this?”
“Fuck!” He exclaims, eyes going wide as he steps towards the desk. “I hadn’t expected you to come back here. I’d forgotten I’d left this out. You said in the library a few weeks ago that you’d be keen to read my first paper when I published it. It isn’t finished, but I wanted to dedicate it you, since you made my first week here so–”
She presses her lips to his, hands reaching up to cup his cheeks as she kisses him fiercely. Michael returns the gesture, long arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close.
“...so wonderful,” he finishes breathlessly, pressing his forehead to hers when they finally part for air.
“I look forward to reading it,” she grins up at him.
“Well, if you wanted, you could–”
“Do you really want me to read your paper right now?” She asks, gripping the front of his t-shirt and pulling him towards the bed.
“On second thoughts…”
He pulls her back in and their mouths meet again, desperate and needy as they topple onto the bed, tugging eagerly at each other’s clothing, quickly undressing each other.
Their pace slows once they are fully bare, and she runs her hands up and down the length of Michael’s sturdy back, enjoying the weight of his lithe body on top of hers.
“I missed you,” she whispers.
“I was an idiot,” he tells her, holding his weight up on his palms.
“Mmmm. The most stupid genius I know.”
He huffs a laugh. “I think I know just the thing that might cheer you up,” he tells her, moving down her body.
She props herself up on her elbows, watching with keen interest as he moves down her body, placing her legs over his shoulders once he reaches the juncture of her thighs.
He is hesitant at first, studying her closely, but then presses forward. She yelps at the sensation, all of his focus is on the bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex, and it feels electrifyingly intense with the motion in which the tip of his tongue moves against it. It’s too much.
She squirms, pushing him away with a squeal.
“Did you not like that?” He asks, seeming unsure of himself as he sits on his haunches, adjusting his glasses.
“It was a bit too much,” she admits, giggling slightly.
“Oh…sorry,” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “I read you’re supposed to shape out the letters of the alphabet when you do that. I’ve always been more of a numbers man, so I went for Pi instead.”
She laughs loudly, reaching for him when he bows his head in embarrassment. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later. Right now, I just want you.”
“Come here,” she says, leaning over to rummage in her purse for a condom. “May I?”
He nods, shuffling closer as she tears open the packet. He hisses through his teeth when she wraps her hand around him. He’s warm and thick, foreskin silky smooth as she gently rubs her hand up and down the length of him, feeling every ridge and vein.
“Is this your first time?” She asks softly, as she rolls the rubber from tip to base.
“Um…yeah…is that a problem?” He asks, reluctantly meeting her eye.
“Not if it isn’t for you,” she tells him earnestly, free hand stroking his cheek. “Do you want me to go on top?”
He shakes his head. “No…no, I want to feel you.”
She smiles in understanding, laying back and coaxing him to move over her, spreading her legs to accommodate him.
He feels heavy against her entrance and she fights to resist the urge to cant her hips forward, wanting to take things at a pace he’s comfortable with.
His jaw slackens as he pushes forward, and she sighs in pleasure at the slow stretch of him bottoming out inside of her. Their breaths are hot against each other's necks as he stills, adjusting to the new sensation.
When he eventually withdraws to slowly push back in again, she moves her hips in time with his, encouraging him, and he quickly finds a rhythm. They are a clash of teeth and tongues as their mouths meet messily, hands exploring each other as the bed creaks beneath the exertion of their movements.
“F–fuck…you feel good..” he mutters, causing her to moan and her toes to curl, as he nudges against her sweet spot.
She could come from this if he keeps it up, and she can feel herself clenching around him as the beginnings of her peak approach. Right as she teeters on the edge, he groans, pulsating and spilling into the sheath that separates them.
“Sorry..” he whispers, looking at her with fogged up lenses.
“It’s okay,” she reassures him, her fingers stroking through the hair at the side of his head, brushing over the temple of his glasses. “It felt good.”
“But you didn’t…you know…”
“Plenty of time for that,” she says, pecking his lips. “Like I said, we’ll make our own fun, won’t we?”
“Get another condom then,” he says, pulling out of her. “I’ve still got some making up to do.”
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doberbutts · 3 months
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You mentioned in response to another ask that you don't use "transandrophobia" because the trans theory you were taught by trans women told you that "transmisogyny" covered those things and that is a total revelation to me. I've been thinking for a long time that it seemed to me that the idea of transmisogyny *does* cover transandrophobia, it just impacts trans femmes and trans mascs differently a lot of the time. But I had no idea that there has been theory/discussion that says this. I'm more used to the idea of "TMA" with the implication that only trans women are affected by transmisogyny. Is that more of a new thing and transmisogyny used to be considered as a more broad term? And would you trace that change to the same issue you're talking about with a lot of current feminism forgetting how feminism is also a "men's issue"?
Idk if I would call it "new" per say. The word trans-misogyny was coined in 2007 and did not include trans men, but the book in which it was coined did mention that language was likely needed to describe the trans man experience as well. There have been a number of different attempts, but none have really stuck.
I went to college starting in 2010, so roughly 3 years after Serrano coined the word. While in college, my school's GSA wanted LGBT elders to come and talk to all the scared freshly-minted adults who were trying to figure out this being gay thing. The woman who ran my GSA found a Trans woman who was willing to be my mentor and sponsor, she wrote my letters for me back when that was still necessary for medical transition, and we met frequently for her to teach me more or less how to be trans safely. Some things she did not know- how to bind safely, how to attach a semi-permenant packer, etc. But others she knew very well, because she herself dealt with both being seen as a man by society as well as the effects of testosterone on her body for decades before she transitioned.
Anyway. This woman was great, and is a significant portion of the reason I'm still alive to this day. And she is who taught me the word transmisogyny, and that it should really cover all trans people because all trans people experience an intersection of transphobia and misogyny. Whether that was popular theory at the time or not, that is what us young kids learned directly from the mouths of trans women at my college, which to me means that others were also learning this particular version of transfeminist theory.
Unfortunately by the time I dropped out of college in 2013/2014, online trans spaces were having stupid arguments such as "transtrenders are bad" and "neopronouns are bad" and "nonbinary people are cis people who want to feel special" and "trans men should be hunted for sport" and "trans women are incel nazis" and. Well. I went "wow this place is a cesspit and I feel like no one here has actually talked to another transgender person face to face" and then did not engage with the online community. So I don't really know how common or popular the understanding I was taught was at the time, though it certainly seems quite rare now.
(As a caveat I don't really think trans people of any gender have anything that isn't similar with each other when it comes to oppression, outside of certain bodily things that can't be helped because that's literally the thing we're transgender about, and I think we all experience very similar oppression but sometimes with a different hat)
As for what caused this particular defining to fall into obscurity? I really can't say. I don't know how popular the transfeminist theory the trans women who spoke at my GSA meetings taught us actually was in the broader world. Every once in a while I meet someone who lived through that same time who remembers that theory, which tells me it had gained at least some traction if it was being discussed in multiple parts of the country, but... that's really it. And it's pretty unpopular theory nowadays, I get people calling me a scumbag and claiming that I say transmisogyny doesn't exist just for mentioning that the theory I was taught includes trans men in the discussion.
But I don't think it's specifically the whole TMA/TME thing. I think it's a lack of understanding of what oppression and what intersectionality are, how they operate, how they work, how we define things through them. There are many people who believe that men do not experience misogyny. But, they do, that's why it's an insult to a boy to call him a girl during a moment of femininity or vulnerability, as a means of calling him weak because girls are believed to be weak. There are many people who think intersectionality turns oppression into additives, as though stacking marginalizations like dnd buffs. This also falls apart because oppression is not like quick math where you add a +5 to every roll if any part of your identity is privileged and a -7 if any part is oppressed.
I've had people get mad at me for saying that straight people experience homophobia while we also have sitting politicians that make jokes on live TV about how they'd drown their (presumably straight) children if they found out their kids were gay. For saying that GNC cis people experience transphobia when butches are getting kicked out of bathrooms and drag queens are getting jumped in bars. For reminding people that when Sikhs are killed due to being mistaken for Muslim in this country that hates Muslims over a national tragedy our Muslim population did not cause, it's still considered and called Islamophobia, because just because Americans are too stupid to tell a Sikh from a Muslim doesn't mean they weren't spurred into that hate crime by their rampant hatred of Muslims and the sight of a turban and long beard.
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the-blue-fairie · 5 months
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Art by @shes-an-iso – commissioned by me and posted here with permission
Realization.
It is ten years ago and I am watching Frozen.
It is ten years ago and I am watching Elsa transform herself into her truest self, watching her spin threads of blue around herself, seizing power for herself – radical self-actualization.
The glint of Elsa’s ice dress reflects in my eyes as I watch Elsa strut into the sunlight – and I do not have words for why I am so moved.
I do not have words, but the shimmer stays.
It is ten years ago and I am choosing to become a part of the Frozen fandom.
I have lurked in fandom circles before, but never posted a thing, never made an account.
It is my first time being part of an online fan community – and, as awful as fandoms can be at times, this fandom – for me – ten years ago – is truly a community.
I begin to make friends in the Frozen fandom.
Some of these friends are trans.
The gleam of Elsa’s hair in the rose-gold dawn shines again in my eyes, and shyly, I begin asking questions of my friends.
Realization is nothing without the words to process it – and my friends give me words, my friends help me to understand.
I am a trans woman.
It is in this online space that I first take the name Liza for myself, since this online space is the only place that I can allow myself to be.
I build for myself. My blog is my own ice palace. What I cannot sculpt in daily life, I carve within online spaces – offering my writing, my thoughts, my edits, my soul to the world.
Everyone here knows me as Liza.
Even as I’m in the closet to my family for years, in here, I am Liza. My friends know me as I am, and as Liza is all they will ever know me.
But I am in the closet. For years.
(It’s why Do You Want to Build a Snowman still breaks me.)
In the closet more out of some misplaced sense of duty to my family than out of dread, though I am scared. Always scared. And then in the closet because I feel it’s better if I bury this. Not better for me, but for them. If I’m bleeding inside, it doesn’t matter. I can put on a show. I have fine-woven gloves. Well-taught decorum. Be the good girl you always have to be, etc.
(Maybe it’s my fault I’m in the closet for years. Anons on this site have told me that in the past. I don’t have it as bad as others in the closet, I’m just a coward, the fault is mine, the fault is mine…)
Fuck off.
(People blame Elsa for the thirteen years in the same way, placing the blame on her and not the tutelage that trained her, because her parents loved her, you see, and love becomes a convenient means of shifting blame to the victim.)
In June 2016, after the Pulse shooting, I make a post about how I’m never going to come out. I am terrified, heartbroken, mangled by grief – but my friends are there for me. My friends send me messages of support, of compassion.
I still cherish the memory of those.
Years pass. When I finally come out to my father, I can barely say the words, barely look him in the eye.
It is ten years since Frozen and I have come out to my family – far too late. I have been on HRT more than a year now.
(My dad still misgenders me when he thinks I’m out of earshot. He resents when I get frustrated with him over this.)
It is ten years since Frozen and I am Elsa on the North Mountain, staring into the whirlwind of an uncertain future, defiant and scared.
And I know – I know – that I didn’t process I was trans because of the film – it was because of the friendship of fellow trans people, trans people who happened to be Frozen fans a decade ago – but my journey of self-realization, my time in the closet, my creation of a sense of self, are so entwined with memories of Frozen that I can’t help but think of it when thinking about my own transition…
Can’t help but think of Elsa, hips swaying, arms outstretched, flashing, radiant –
Happy tenth anniversary, Frozen.
And thank you. Thank you.
(This is okay to reblog. In fact, please do. It is a sliver of my soul that I offer to the world.)
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AITA for coming out as bi to my girlfriend and voicing my concerns to her
I (18M) have been dating my girlfriend, L (20F) for three years now. our relationship has been great so far, we were attracted to each other from the start. she has always been very flirty and tbh that's how she won me over at first, because teenage hormones are gonna teenage hormones y'know, but when I got to know her better as a person I realized my feelings for her weren't just sexual - she is kind, gentle, overall really sweet. I was, and still am, attracted to her in every way. L is also openly bisexual, fully out, and idk I've always felt so safe around her because she doesn't judge others, I think she's so beautiful inside and out. she has been my first girlfriend ever so I always do my best to be supportive and make her feel loved.
a few months ago I realized I'm bi. I thought, hey, since she always speaks about her own bisexuality I think I can tell her I'm bi as well. she was, as usual, very non-judgemental but she said something that I didn't like, something like "you see how much I love and trust you? someone else would've been like OMG YOU'RE PROBABLY JUST GAY AND YOU WANT TO CHEAT ON ME WITH A GUY". I was,, confused bc 1. I think supporting your partner when they come out is the bare minimum, 2. she is bisexual herself and I don't think shes gonna cheat on me with a girl, I never acted like I was great for supporting her and 3. I know I'm not gay because L can do whatever she wants with me so I dunno what that comment was for. I've enjoyed my intimate encounters with her too much to be gay and she knows this.
I was a bit annoyed but still grateful that she was supportive. I noticed our sexual activities increased after that and a part of me wondered if she was trying to make sure I'm not gay. which made her look like a bit of a hypocrite because she never had to "prove" to me that she's not gay. not complaining tho - I just found it odd? I think it's a weird double standard, but then again I know women are always putting up with double standards so I feel like I can't tell her abt how strange her comment was. I just don't want L to think I'm not attracted to her and I started feeling like an asshole for telling her I'm bi.
but she got actually upset over something else that has nothing to do with us being bi - when we first started talking, she was dating another guy. I knew this, so I was respectful, I thought that L being flirty with me was some kind of joke until she told me she was serious and she couldn't stop thinking about me. L didn't cheat on him, she broke up with him before she started dating me, and recently I told her "hey... I won't be that guy one day, right? I trust you and I know you won't cheat on me, but I remembered how our friendship first started and if you ever stop loving me I would like to know before you feel ignored enough to start flirting with other guys". she got very visibly upset, she said I was right, said she felt cheap and like a whore and ???? NOT AT ALL WHAT I FUCKING MEANT. I was trying to tell her I want us to have communication, because I love her and I want our relationship to work out.
I feel like a shitty person and boyfriend, first for telling her I'm bi even though it wouldn't have an impact on our relationship, then for trying to voice my concerns and accidentally making her feel that way.
I've apologized a few times and we're good now but she introduced me to her best friend and,, this girl just started talking abt how she will guide me so I can properly take care of L? it made me feel really stupid. I felt like a child tbh. we are bi but not poly (I respect those who are, just giving you context) so idk why she felt she had to insert her friend into our relationship. am I really so bad that my girlfriend has to ask her friend to teach me how to be good to her? I would understand this if L had some sort of disability but her friend just talks to me about BDSM and doms/subs and like ??? I feel like L being a sub has fuck all to do with our argument, but I still feel terrible. pls help me make sense of these things. I want to know if I am the asshole.
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facioleeknow · 4 months
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He loves me, he loves me not • Bang Chan
Does he like you or are you friends delulu?
WC: 1906 Genre: smut, fluff, lifeguard!au, highschool/college!au (implied)
TW: kids, smut, not proofread, shuhua x soojin (gidle)
AN: this wasn't supposed to contain any smut but Dahlia (@comet-falls ) made me think about Chris on his knees in the most inappropriate time (Brat).
Taglist: @bahng-chrizz
Working a summer job wasn't the worst thing you ever did, by far but it wasn't exactly how you planned on spending your summer. Especially if the job in question was at the snack bar at the local community pool. You wanted to spend your summer lazing around towns and spending way too much time at your best friend’s house, not yelling at kids not to run around and trying not to melt under the scorching summer heat. 
The job, though, even if it resembled largely your own personal hell most of the time, had its perks. First of all you had free entrance at the pool and the keys which meant that if you wanted to swim late at night you could and you were sure the owner didn’t mind. And second the lifeguard assigned to keep the little demons at bay was Christopher Bang, and he was dreamy. 
It wasn’t like you and Chris went back but you two knew each other as you had a mutual friend, Lee Felix, who was probably the sweetest and kindest person you knew. The friendship between you and Felix was weird, he was a literal angel and you were the biggest people-hating person you knew, he loved the sun and hot weather and you hated light and suffered if the temperature went past 15°C; but he never pointed the differences out and he was one of the closest friends you had, except for Shuhua of course.
You were extremely thankful to Felix, and not only because he went past your discrepancies but also because he was the one who found you the job; thanks to him you were able to freely ogle at Chris with heart eyes and a slightly open mouth.
“God he’s so hot,” you whined. That day was particularly hot so Chris had discarded his tank top and was only in his trunks, basking in the sun. The sight was glorious.
“Can you stop drooling on a man? It’s embarrassing,” Shuhua sighed and kept fanning herself with a random newspaper you found behind the bar and gave her. Her and her girlfriend Soojin finally agreed to visit you at work after you complained for weeks about how excruciating it was to stay around little kids all day without support. She had been side-eyeing you all morning for simping like that for a man, insisting that it wasn’t very girlboss of you and you insisted back that you knew but he was different, he was actually nice, which earned you an even more sour look.
“Leave her alone, I’m sure you were like this when we weren’t together,” argued Soojin, looking fondly at the other girl. 
“Oh my god, she was even worse and I had to sit through it all the time and of course I couldn’t say anything,” you agreed with Soojin which made Shuhua whine quite loudly.
“Excuse me miss,” a little voice interrupted your conversation, “ can you give me another ice cream?”
“I’m sorry sweetie, but you already ate two and your mother told me not to give you any,” you forced a smile. That kid came everyday and demanded all the ice cream and when the mother said no he threw one hell of a tantrum. 
You tried to resume your conversation with the girls, hoping that the kid would spare you that day, but as soon as you turned the child started screaming and crying for ice cream. Like. Every. Damn. Day. Shuhua scoffed once again and looked at him with that one scary stare she always had.
“Kid, didn’t your mother teach you not to interrupt adult’s conversations?” by the tone of her voice you could tell that your best friend was really ticked off and not just pretending to make the kid quiet. You kinda felt bad for the kid, being on the other end of Shuhua’s annoyance wasn’t something enjoyable. At all.
While you were thinking about that time when you had fucked up really bad and Shuhua yelled at you, the kid sprinted towards the counter, grabbed your phone and then started running in the opposite direction.
“Are you fucking serious?” you mumbled to yourself. as fast as you could you got out of the little snack hut and tried to run after the kid, who was extremely fast and wasn’t wearing shoes which gave him better grip on the wet floor. However you were way taller than him and his little legs could only do so much, your hand started grazing his shoulder and you were already tasting victory when your forehead collided with a hard metal surface. The elevated lifeguard seat. Your luck couldn’t be any better. You fell backwards.
Your head hurt like a bitch, that pole was very sturdy even if it looked rusty. You closed your eyes, the world was spinning a little bit. You could feel people looming over you and faint shouting a bit more far away from you. Soojin and Chris were both kneeling beside your slumped form.
“Are you alright?” Soojin whispered worriedly. You groaned, the last thing you needed was a gigantic bruise in the middle of your forehead.
“My phone.”
“Shuhua went to get it, don't worry.”
A big warm hand gently patted your head and started brushing hair away from your face.
“Are you sure you're okay?”a male voice asked. Chris. Your eyes shot open. He was smiling at you and it was the sweetest smile you had ever seen in your entire life.
“Yeah,” you sputtered. Your whole body was on fire, and not in the good way.
Chris put his muscular arm around your shoulders and helped you sit up. The closeness between both of your faces was making your heart beat wildly.
“I'm going to get some nice, wouldn't want a bruise to ruin your pretty face,” he winked at you playfully.
Soojin raised an eyebrow at you but your mind had escaped your current body and was metaphorically running in a flower field.
Maybe the summer job wasn't that bad.
From that day Chris would always exchange small talk in the morning with you when the pool was quiet and the kids were still sleeping. Sometimes he would catch you staring and he'd send a wink your way paired with one of his adorable smiles which made you extremely flustered. Shuhua and Soojin insisted he liked you, you insisted that he was being nice because you had a mutual friend. But after what happened earlier that day you were starting to toy with the idea.
It was extremely hot and everybody was struggling except the kids that still ran around like it was any other day. The snack hut felt like a furnace but the shadow it provided gave you at least some protection. Chris on the other hand didn't look so good, he was wearing a cap to protect his head against the sun but the heat was getting to him and you could see that. Your hand instinctively flew to the small fridge behind you and grabbed an ice cold bottle of water. 
The walk to the chair was agonizing, your nerves we're so taut that you could play violin on them. The universe though, must have not liked you getting close to that particular spit because once again he sent a kid against you. The blonde, giggly, snotty child ran into your brand new t-shirt (a cat shirt) ice cream first and then proceeded to smear it across the front of it. 
“Hehe, sorry,” he giggled and then ran away.
“I like you shirt,” chuckled Chris, now in front of you. You decided to ignore his comment and handed him the bottle.
“It's really hot, you should drink plenty of water.” 
He took the bottle and smiled again, that man was all smiles.
“Go to the staff room, you can wear my shirt, I have the tank anyway, I don't need it.”
You froze. You? Wear his shirt? Your brain was shutting down.
The staff room wasn't far but it was separated from the pool which meant you could freak out as much as you wanted. Chris' bag laid open on the bench in front of you, his shirt was neatly folded on top. It was a plain black shirt and it smelled of laundry detergent and baby powder. 
“Oh my god, he's not stinky like other men, I love him,” you whispered to yourself while you admired the shirt.
Maybe you were starting to like your summer job.
When you told Shuhua about the shirt incident she was adamant he liked you but you were still very reluctant to believe that. She kept bugging you and insisting that you should ask him out and that he was definitely into you. But still, being the stubborn woman you were, you kept to yourself and the summer swiftly came to an end. The last day of the job had a bitter taste to it, how would you survive without your hot lifeguard to gawk at? You didn't know.
The pool wasn't open, you were only supposed to put all of the pool chairs inside and lock up.
It was hard work and it was still very warm but you were getting paid, so you had to do it. Chris had other plans, he sent you in the staff room to make “inventory” while he carried inside all the chairs.
Y/N:
He's taking the chairs inside all by himself
His muscles look so sexy
I'm feeling hot and bothered rn ngl
Shuhua:
Ew
Just fuck already
“I wanted to surprise you but it seems like you were the one who surprised me,” Chris chuckled from behind your shoulder. 
The gasp you let out was inhuman. You were screwed. As a way to escape the situation you started to slowly back away from him, but soon your back hit the wall effectively trapping you. 
“You think my muscles are sexy?”
You nodded slowly.
“Feel them then.” His warm hand gripped yours and gently guided it to his arm.
“Very impressive,” you stuttered trying so hard not to faint on him.
Chris had his eyes fixed on you, he had this look, dark and intimidating. It was hot.
“Can I touch you?”
“YES!”
Your lips met in a soft chaste kiss, it was almost innocent, but his hands wandered your body. He gripped and kneaded your flesh feverishly. His plump lips trailed down your jaw and stopped at your neck. His link tongue darted out to lap at the skin.
Your mind was clouded with so much pleasure from only his mouth on your neck that you didn't notice his hand had slipped past your underwear until he pressed on your clit lightly. He had made you gasp twice that day, but the second one was for a completely different reason.
You were so wet it was easy for him to slip his fingers inside you. You instinctively threw your head back and smacked it a little too hard against the tiled wall.
“Careful baby,” he groaned. His fingers slipped out of you and a whine escaped your lips but your voice got caught in your throat when you saw what he did next. He kneeling. In front of you. And looking at you like you were a goddess.
“We should go out sometimes,” he said while he yanked your shorts down.
You definitely loved your summer job.
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palaceofpassion · 6 months
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The life of a House Husband
"Uhm... are you sure that I'm needed for this sir?" Jaune Arc was many things, he was a young awkward man, he was also the only boy in a household of eight women. Something that had a rather grand affect on his life, from cooking to cleaning, he could do every household task with ease. Something that had come akin to his mother wanting everyone to chip in.
And of course, being under the thumbs of his sisters. Whether it was through brute force, or being unable to say no. So... when he received a call from Headmaster Ozpin, of Beacon Academy, that he had a job for him, he was a little shocked.
"Yes, Glynda has informed me that you're quite skilled at helping others."
His cheeks felt flushed as he stared at the elderly man. "I mean, my semblance is good at helping bring out positive emotions but... I wouldn't really say I'm good at helping others." That was a lie, and he sort of wondered what his Auntie Glynda had told him. Glynda being his late father's sister of course.
"Mmhmm, she has spoken quite highly of you."
Now he was just embarrassed, "Oh. Well, that's honors." She was very brutal about the truth, even to family. "But I don't see why that means anything here."
"Well you see." Ozpin put a photo on his desk, ushering Jaune to pick it up. To which he did of course, the image had four young women. Ordered from tallest to shortest. Though he did note that three of them were quite short when compared to the tall redhead, who appeared to rival even him in height. "These four young women are some of our, if not the most promising huntresses this year... except."
"Except what sir?" He was a little confused, a bit embarrassed, if they were important and famous, he should know them... but he was kind of just a country bumpkin.
"Except that they would be unable to take care of themselves if left to their own devices. " Ozpin seemed frustrated by the statement, grabbing a cup of coffee to take a deep sip before continuing, "You see Mr. Arc. These four are the hope of Beacon, and while I would love for them to succeed, they have... problems. Ms. Cruz." He pointed at one of the shorter girls... actually THE shortest. With soft green hair, and dazzling emerald eyes. "She has unfortunately had... issues with the loss of her past team, so it's hard for her to open up to others, and she lacks self confidence in herself. And while the most calculating mind on her team, and their leader... it's doubtful whether she'll be able to communicate with the other three." He next pointed at the next shortest girl, with snow white hair, and frosty blue eyes, "Ms. Schnee is... strong willed, to say the least. She's grown in an environment that was about being used or to use others. As such, she'll be abrasive to the others, she also has very little experience with chores or taking care of herself, or so her mother has informed me."
Next was the maroon haired woman, with a stoutly figure, and pretty grey eyes, "This is May Zedong. She's similar to Ms. Cruz, but whereas Ms. Cruz has fears of being around others. May chooses not to involve herself, she's also had a hard time. Apparently she's had issues with both male and female students in the past. And likes to keep to herself. She's also quite soft spoken."
"And finally, this." He pointed out the dazzling red haired woman, with shining green eyes. "Is Pyrrha Nikos, she is, the strongest member of their team. However, she lacks the will to lead. She would rather not ruffle any feathers, and takes on an overtly polite persona when around other people. She's also quite famous, so it's not strange for people to come to her with ulterior motives. She's not quick to let people in, especially when she feels they'll be coming for her name. Unfortunately Ms. Schnee has already seemed to get on her bad side, and whether they'll work together at this point is impossible to tell."
There was obvious frustration in his voice, "Unfortunately, while each are all incredibly skilled huntresses, they haven't put much time, nor want, into self care. And that's where you come in." "So... you want me to be a nanny?" "Something to that effect, though you'll also be providing them with a shoulder to stand on." He wanted to say something, but as the most normal sibling, amongst a cavalcade of spectacular and amazing sisters. He sort of knew his position, and knew where people with talent tended to lie. Their single minded pursuit on improvement and being the bet. Especially if they have mental or emotional hang ups... he hated to admit it. But his semblance would definitely help. But more than that, as he listened to their stories, he wanted to help. "Okay." He would do what he could to help ease their lives, and besides... while he never wanted to be a huntsman. It would be interesting to see what kind of lives they lived.
While eyeing the image, he started to try to work things out. He didn't know their backstories, but one was afraid that she would see others die, or that she would be the cause. One is afraid of letting others in, because she's lived in a harsh environment, one is unable to communicate her feelings with others, used to being ignored... or something happened between her and a past team. And one has learned to close her heart, an actress if you will... He took a deep breath and sighed, "Okay, I suppose I should go meet them." "Mmhmm, they've already been informed of your... inclusion." He nodded, hopefully things wouldn't be too bad. But as he held the photo, he couldn't help but worry.
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adventuringblind · 9 months
Text
Drive With You Forever
Chapter Three: showing you me
Summary: The reader has been used by her father for many things, resulting in some interesting quirks. When her father ends up under house arrest, she finds herself tangled in a world of fast cars, love, and inhuman abilities.
Chapter summary: Max and our clueless reader finally explore their feelings for each other.
Warnings: Jos Verstappen, mild age gap if you squint, Max and Reader have no idea what they are doing
Notes: I bad so much fun writing this chapter! I promise that next chapter, we get to see Charles.
Previous <-
Masterlist
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It was an odd feeling to be on the cusp of stepping into adulthood. Seb had said that they would take things slow. He wouldn't just shove her into responsibilities she either didn't understand or didn't know about.
He'd also said countless times over the year that her feelings towards Max are completely normal. Even going as far as to reassure her that is she shows him her powers that it's up to her.
The voice in the back of her head kept saying no. The fear of him being terrified of her stopping her from telling him.
Max had figured she wanted to tell him something. He'd caught on after she litterally choked on her words. But he didn't want to push her. She'd opened up to him about some of the things she'd lived through and seen. It made sense that she may not want to talk about it.
It didn't alter their friendship. He still went to her on good days and bad days. They practically read each other like open books now.
Max had convinced her to let him plan something for her birthday. Small and comfortable, of course. She agreed hesitantly.
He'd flown to Germany to see her. The off weekend falling on her birthday is incredibly helpful.
He was greeted by Seb at the door when he arrived. He'd talked about this for months. Seb was pratically giggling at him, and Hanna had just shook her head in exasperation but smiled nonetheless.
Seb had also been talking to the now adult, but still little girl in his eyes, about the possibility of letting Max in.
She was absolutely terrified about it but wanted to show him. She had told herself she'd do it soon. Now was probably the best chance she would have.
Max drove them up to a field. One shed been to plenty of times with Seb. She used it as her safe place when things got overwhelming. It was open, and there always seemed to be a breeze.
It was sunset now. Her nerves settled in her stomach as soon as she woke up this morning. She'd been careful not to let vision in since Max convinced her. She wanted to let him surprise her. However, that also meant she had no clue how he might react to her.
Max parked the car and dragged her further up the hill. Laughing as she just let him. He had his backpack slung over his shoulder and a Box in his hands.
When he found a spot on the other side, he pulled off his backpack and unzipped it. He pulls out a blanket and makes quick work spreading it out for them to sit on.
He pulls her down onto it. Her body practically collapsed at the unexpected force.
The sun was filled with the beautiful hues of the fall sky. Oranges and reds line the sky in a gradient. The warmth settled on their faces and the breeze ruffling through their hair.
It was perfect.
"Happy birthday." Says Max., pulling her body closer to his. He hands the box over to her.
She opens up the cardboard to reveal a notebook. Similar to the one she used to communicate when they first met. This one, though, was filled with Max's writing. Pictures, notes, ticket stubs, and poorly written poetry littered every page.
"I won't lie, I definitely had help from Victoria... and possibly Daniel." He admits. His hand reaches for the back of his neck.
She loses her words. Three years' worth of memories in one book. The emotions overwhelm her. So she does the only thing that might be able to express her thanks. She kisses his cheek.
She's done it before. Quick and sweet. Something Max got addicted to faster than he would have liked.
He can feel the fear rise back into her for a moment. The way her body seems to barely shake and the slight change in her breathing.
"I want to show you something." She not looking at him. For a moment, his mind goes to every terrible possibility. "Dobyou trust me?"
"Always."
She pulls out her pocket knife. The same one everyone had tried to keep away from her. She always seemed to get it back somehow.
She rolls up her sleeve and drags the edge along her forearm. Small beads of crimson form along the thin line. The action leaves Max confused and concerned.
Then, she focuses. Her other hand manipulates the wound. Weaving the skin back together. The energy is warm as iflt flows through her. Sweet beading at the top of her head from the power she's exerting.
Then it's gone. The only proof it had been there was a faint line and dried blood.
Max is speechless. Completely and utterly stunned. His mouth had fallen open when she pulled out the knife, and it stayed like that as she looked at him for some kind of response.
It was weird, he didn't understand it, but god did he find cool.So he did something stupid in return.
"Do you trust me?" It was his turn to ask. He was grinning because he'd been wanting to do this for awhile now.
She nodded her head. Curiosity takes hold of her.
Max takes her face gently in his hands. Her eyes are swimming with confusion as he inches closer and rest his forehead against hers.
She'd seen this in some movies. But this felt much different compared to just watching it.
Then his lips are on hers. The feeling is different than cheek kisses or forehead kisses. This was derived from a deep set of emotions she'd yet to explore.
It was good. Great, even. She had no clue what she was doing, so she let Max guide them through it.
He pulled her closer. Never wanting to let go.
But air is an unfortunate necessity.
He pulled away, eyes her wet lips, searching her eyes for some hint that she liked it. Nerves building the more she stayed silent.
"Pleade say something." He pleaded.
"I think I can get used to that." She laughed.
~
Max had asked her questions for days. He even ended up staying in Germany for longer then he expected.
Seb kept laughing at them. Max would ask, she would answer and show him, then roll her eyes. Seb reminded her that it was new and exciting to see something like this. She was just glad that he liked it and wasn't screaming in terror when she fixed the toaster with no tools.
It didn’t take long for the paddock to figure it out. Max had come into the Redbull hospitality practically beaming. Daniel didn’t even need to interrogate him.
They kept away from the public eye for now. She was still wary of people and nervous her father could come back at any second.
Max's dad was on another level of annoying after he found out. Seb had to step in multiple times because it was one thing to defend Max, defending herself felt entirely different.
Seb basically adopts Max after getting fed up with Jos. It didn't matter what place he came in, Seb was there and congratulating or consoling. He made sure to show Jos what parenting should look like.
Max and her didn't fight often. More like arguments about small things that were just a matter of communication. It took Christian and Seb to get them through the first few.
It was nice knowing they weren't alone and had people they trusted to go to. Something neither had grown up with.
They’re creating their own little family.
~
Next ->
Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess-blog @jjsprobablywrong @Ipab @jayda12 (comment if you want to be added)
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antihbki · 14 days
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Hi. I am here to discuss the tumblr users @/kotocest, known mainly in the radqueer community as Ciel, and his girlfriend @/radikyuu, who is known mainly as Kyuumi or Opphie.
Potentially triggering content ahead. Please read forward with caution.
I met Ciel and Kyuumi in September of 2023. I met Kyuumi first in a syscord/system discord server (which I will not be naming for the safety and privacy of the staff and server members), and was later introduced to Ciel.
From the start, it was obvious things were a little off. Kyuumi would often vent in the previously mentioned server about feeling gross or horrible about doing things or behaving a certain way and included that she doesn't think she could change because "he" wouldn't like her anymore. A little down the line, I found out that "he" was referring to Ciel.
Her vents weren't the only concerning aspect, though. It was clear how unstable she was when Ciel wasn't around or when someone said something about him that ticked him off. Anytime someone pointed out his toxic behavior towards her, Kyuumi would get super upset and would eventually spiral and break down because of it. Ciel would use this to his advantage and claim that she experienced such strong feelings regarding him because she was a "part of him" or because she was a "clone" of him, which would only serve as a way for Ciel to strengthen the leash he already had on Kyuumi. These are still things Kyuumi still seemingly believes, which only leads me to assume that he is still pushing this belief onto her.
There would be numerous occasions of Kyuumi coming to panic to me in DMs about these things, too. One time was especially alarming, and I am only comfortable talking about this because she herself has publicly admitted to this situation taking place. Kyuumi messaged me around 2 in the morning, telling me that she thought she was going to die. Her messages were vague and barely readable, but from what I could understand, she had injured herself in some way and was losing a lot of blood. I told her to call an ambulance, to which she responded that she couldn't. After asking why, I was blocked. After hours of staying awake, waiting for her to tell me that she was okay, I received a message from Ciel at around 10 pm. He informed me that Kyuumi was in the hospital but claimed he didn't know what happened. I asked why she blocked me, but he told me he didn't know. The next day, he admitted to encouraging her to harm herself, saying that he never intended for her to be harmed so bad, but said he didn't know why she said she couldn't call an ambulance.
Fast forward to Kyuumi coming out of the hospital, I approached her about the topic and told her what I knew, and this was when she told me about Ciel threatening her into not calling an ambulance. According to Kyuumi, the two of them were in a vc when he encouraged her to do it. Here is a screenshot of what she said to me.
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While I am going to try to be neutral for most of this post, I fully believe that he was trying to kill her. This is not the only time something like this has happened.
As you can see in that last message, Kyuumi had told me before about the fact that she had sent pictures to him. She came to me after she sent them to him and told me about what she did, and said it made her feel disgusting and horrible about her body. When I tried to comfort her, she broke down and told me the things he said about her after he saw the pictures of her. She also told me about some transphobic behavior he was displaying. Here is a screenshot of her explaining that to me.
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I point this part out because Kyuumi is a trans girl. She mentions in the screenshot that she asked him to avoid making comments about that specific part of her, and he disrespected that boundary and made those comments anyway. After this, she was left feeling very dysphoric and did not speak to me much.
This part is especially upsetting because Kyuumi was closeted about being a trans woman at the time. She was going by he/him pronouns and was almost exclusively using masculine terms and publicly claimed to be a trans man, but Ciel and I (as well as one other mutual friend) were aware of Kyuumi's identity. Despite Kyuumi trusting Ciel with such an important part of her identity, he went out of his way to upset her and make her uncomfortable.
She forgave him for this situation very quickly, but this behavior from Ciel continued and went unaddressed.
I witnessed Ciel manipulate her on many different occasions, and he was comfortable doing it with me present. Oftentimes, when they would argue, he would briefly mention the argument to their mutual friends, but he would always paint her out to be the one in the wrong. This led to many of our mutual friends hating Kyuumi for a while, and we even had a group chat made for the purpose of discussing what we thought was Kyuumi being an abuser. After a while, and after multiple friends cut Kyuumi off due to her supposed abusive behavior, Ciel confirmed himself on a call with me that he had been portraying her like that with the goal of isolating her. I tried to speak up and tell him how wrong that is, but I was threatened with never hearing from either of them again.
I didn't believe that he would make her stop talking to me, but I didn't take any chances and instead spoke to a friend who went on to confront him. After xe confronted Ciel, xe was blocked by both of them and removed from all of their group chats and servers. As far as I can tell, this is still something he has her do (cutting off people who call him out or who he doesn't like).
Ciel's emotional and physical mistreatment and abuse of Kyuumi is something that I have kept my mouth shut about due to the fear of being cut out of Kyuumi's life, but that ended up happening about a month ago anyways. I no longer have contact with her or Ciel, but given some of the things I have heard about their relationship, this abuse is still going on, and Kyuumi has begun to claim it is consensual.
I am not expecting this to be spread or have much attention paid to it, but I made this because I am tired of being quiet.
Thank you for your time.
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kazoosandfannypacks · 6 months
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sabezra week: day 1: in-between
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during the decade in between, sabine helps the rebellion defeat the empire, but after the new republic is started, she's a rebel without a cause, until ahsoka suspects some force sensitivity in her and takes it upon herself to train her. after the death of sabine's family, ahsoka worries her grief will lead her down a dark path and stops training her. a rebel without a war, a mandalorian without a clan, and no longer a jedi- a keeper of the peace she's now trapped in- sabine spends most of her time on lothal, wondering if there's any way she can find ezra and bring him back home.
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during the decade in between, ezra finds the noti and joins their clan, initially communicating with them via the force, but eventually adapting to their language, and swapping stories with them to pass the time while he waits for sabine to bring him back home.
headcanons and taglist below the cut. do not repost moodboards!
Sabine's loth cat, Murley, is nicknamed Cyar Kaysh Mirsh Solus [two mando'a phrases meaning: "beloved" and "his brain cell is lonely"] because of how much he reminds her of Ezra.
Anytime Ezra has a stupid idea, he hears a sarcastic little voice in the back of his head calling him out for it, and usually calling him a D'ikut, or some other Mando'a insult. That's part of why, when Sabine's with him again and makes a sarcastic and self-confident remark, all he can think to say is "I've missed you."
Sabine paints the walls in the tower on Lothal a lot, usually things that she knows Ezra won't mind when he gets back, but occasionally one or two things that'll annoy him in a half-sincere attempt to spite him out of hiding.
Ezra attempts to learn to draw/paint so that he can impress Sabine when she finds him. A lot of his early attempts were horrible, but by the time she gets there, he's quite good for someone with his limited resources, and he has a not-too-bad mural of the ghost crew etched in the wall of his mobile home.
Though she wouldn't even admit it to herself, part of the reason Sabine wanted to become a Jedi was to find a connection to Ezra though the Force.
Part of the reason Ezra worked on his proficiency in combat without lightsabers was because he half-expected Sabine to have lost his lightsaber over the course of their separation.
Sabine's family noticed how downtrodden she was at losing Ezra and asked about him, but she told them she didn't have feelings for him. Tristan asks her about it later, and and she tells him the truth, but her secret dies with him a couple days later.
Ezra tells the Noti all kinds of stories about what happened before he got to Perida. Naturally, their favorite stories are the ones that he seems the most excited when he's telling, so they ask him a lot to tell him stories about his friend Sabine.
Jacen loves hearing stories about his ghost crew family. One time while Sabine's watching him, they sit at the table drawing while she tells a story about his Uncle Ezra. Jacen, without even looking up from his coloring page, asks Sabine if she loved him. She's a little startled and deflects the question, but in that moment, she almost said yes. She hadn't even told herself that until that moment.
The language the Noti speak is a little different from basic. It throws Ezra for a loop when one of them asks to hear about his "girl friend Sabine" until he realizes that the Noti word for a romantic partner is completely different, and they were merely referring to his friend, Sabine, who is a girl. He has to admit though, he likes the sound of that phrase.
taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @sabezraweek (if you'd like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}
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continuous-spec · 19 days
Text
Snippet from The Messages in Between Chapter 2. Garrus' message to Shepard during their six months apart. I broke my heart writing it.
[Garrus Vakarian - Draft Date AST: July 25th, 2186]
I’ve gotten more comm buoys out to increase the hard lines of communication. I will be pretty busy dealing with them and getting them up and running. Mom is back on Palaven. Treatments went well. She’s starting physical therapy. She’s really trying. 
I can’t believe I’m actually seeing her walk. 
[Garrus Vakarian - Draft Date AST: August 7th, 2186]
Okay, so I’ve learned from the best and started yelling. And the Hierarchy is listening again. My task force just doubled overnight and with more money. We have actual tangible stockpiles of food and medicine that could last us years in most of the colonies.
I’m finally getting somewhere on this, Shepard. 
[Garrus Vakarian - Draft Date AST: August 11th, 2186] 
Have you heard from Liara? I could really use her right now. The terminus system is giving us trouble on our comm buoys. I’m hoping she has a few contacts that could sort that out. She’s not answering, though. Remind you of anyone? 
[Garrus Vakarian - Draft Date AST: August 18th, 2186]
I’m this close to reaching out to Wrex for help. Maybe if I got him a bottle of Ryncol, he’d be cooperative? I’d save it for you, but we all know what happens when you get your hands on it, Shepard. And you know it would kill me. Wrex just seems like the safe choice for it. 
[Garrus Vakarian - Draft Date AST: August 24th, 2186] 
She’s in the hospital again. Spirits Shepard it’s bad. Something about her liver from the treatments.
I shouldn’t have hoped. 
[Garrus Vakarian - Draft Date AST: September 2nd, 2186] 
We just held her funeral.
At night, when the wildflowers bloom. An old Cirpritine superstition. Your spirit can’t reach safe passage without them. The flowers guide the spirits back to the grounds of Palaven for final rest. 
I’ve never seen the fields fuller than they were tonight. 
[Garrus Vakarian - Draft Date AST: September 2nd, 2186] 
On Omega, I thought I was going to die there and be stuck to haunt that rock.  Not exactly a lot of flowers flourish there. Thankfully I had you to pull me out.
I wish you were here with me now, Shepard. 
[Garrus Vakarian - Draft Date AST: September 5th, 2186] 
My mom’s name was Laesia Vakarian. She used to design ships for the turian military. Mainly she designed smaller military vessels, but she was so proud of her work. 
Did you know she wanted me to steal Normandy blueprints when I told her I joined? I’m only half-joking. She was pretty upset she wasn’t asked to be on the project. 
She said the Normandy was something she’d always hoped for, a true invention. 
She didn't care about C-Sec or that I quit. 
My joining made her so proud. She said I got to be part of the symbol of the best of what turian and humans can do together. That I was destined to do great things with the opportunity. She was right. But I’m hoping there’s more we can do with the Normandy. 
Her eyes lit up so much over that vid call when I told her I joined. That was the last time I saw her as truly herself.  
I was so hopeful I would have seen that again. I guess that is what I get for being greedy in my hope.   
I wish you could have met her in her better times. 
She would have liked you, Shepard. 
Read the rest on Ao3
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calliesadeckis · 6 months
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Hey Jaiden!! I hope ur doing well today, I wanted to ask if you could write a Robin Buckley x reader where reader has to watch from the sidelines as Robin pines over Vickie and doesn't realize reader is right there. Then reader starts talking to simeone else (to distract herself from Robin because she believes it's a lost cause) and Robin's like maybe i do like reader?
Thanks:)
i'm doing well, thank you for asking <3 and oh my god, of course. i love robin so much, she's everything to me
and i despise my jealous eyes
pairing: robin buckley x fem!reader, and minor robin x vickie & steve x reader
summary: having a crush on your girl best friend was... complicated. even when knowing that she's attracted to girls, just one girl particularly, and that girl was not you
cw: many cups of angst, one sided pining turned two sided (because they're idiots), jealousy (on both ends), happy ending
a/n: robin is everything to me, she's a version of me as well because i kin her so bad, i just felt like she was created for me (as well as for other neurodivegent sapphics out there). also title is lyrics from lacy by olivia rodrigo and i thought it fit here
masterlist
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you knew and have been friends with robin buckley since middle school and during that time, you've been inseparable. your parents would say how much you're both attached to each others hips, which was quite the understatement.
when the both of you were close enough, she came out to you. trusting you enough with who she really is and has not told anyone else. of course you'd understand, maybe not entirely for your 13 year old brain, but.... how could you hate your best friend, your ONLY friend for who she loves? you thought people hating on someone for that was dumb, yet again, you're young, you don't know much of the world and why they act the way it does. but nothing was ever gonna change on how you viewed robin.
once you started high school together, you've experienced some changes yourself. that you found yourself going through an experience that your friend was a couple years prior, but at the time, it didn't mean anything important. and you though, 'this can't be a coincidence that i'm attracted to girls, as is my best friend' and speaking of that best friend.... through this discovery journey, you started seeing robin a different light. she was still your best friend of course, but these feelings were just growing into more than friendship, and that feeling never went away.
you were unsure about your sexuality for most of your high school experience, up until senior year. robin was in band, and she met this cute girl in band, vickie, and it made your just a little bit angry. and it's not just the fact this girl is taking time away from your best friend, but it was the fact robin was looking at a girl like that, and that girl wasn't you.
it's not like you hated vickie, you don't even know her, it was just possessiveness that got to you. everything was just so fucked and you didn't wanna talk about your feelings because you weren't exactly the best at communicating your emotions. especially when you don't like talking about them to begin with.
so, the second best option was to move on, though that probably would take multiple year and not over a span of a few days. you needed some type of distraction, of course. so you decided to hang out with steve harrington. and you a a freshman would be confused and wouldn't believe they'd be friends with steve harrington during your senior year.
and we'll, you were in luck. steve was looking for someone to take as a date to lucas' championship game so you took the opportunity to volunteer. and getting to know steve, he wasn't exactly your type but he was sweet, and yeah, a bit dumb, but he had heart and cared for others. and obviously this wouldn't be a permanent thing for you, but you felt kind of sad for steve because he's been mentioning about finding a girl who isn't leaving out of state to go to college, to find someone who isn't gonna be some boring one night stand and never speak to you again. you knew he wanted something real with someone, maybe it wasn't you but... you wanted to help.
to be honest, he was a gentleman. it wasn't even a dinner date, it was going to a high school basketball game and the two of you were sitting in the bleachers. he did buy you some food as you watched the game, you weren't overly invested since you didn't know much about basketball, but you wanted to support lucas.
during the game though, you and robin occasionally gave one another glances. this had made your heart beat a little too fast, but you ignored it.
the game was over and you and steve were walking towards his car to take you home, then you made a pretty dumb move and kissed him. obviously you didn't like him like that but... distracting yourself in anyway with anyone felt good, but it made your stomach twist up in knots. that had gotten progressively worse that robin was watching the entire thing by the time you pulled away. and she was walking away heartbroken and you were just standing there frozen til steve snapped you out of it by clapping his hands together to get your attention, "hey!" and you looked at him, and you knew, that he knew, "go after her, okay? i'll be fine."
"i'm sorry, steve." you felt awful for using him like this, he was your friend and you took advantage. but he brushed it off, "it's fine. i'd rather have robin be okay than me." and you smiled at him before running after your long time best friend. and you called out to her, "robin, can we please talk?"
"there's nothing to talk about, alright." she didn't turn back to look at you and just kept walking, "i just want you and steve to be happy. i don't wanna get in the way of that." but you managed to catch up to her, making her face you. "that's not what that was, okay? he's not my type." and you got her full attention, "like i won't deny he's easy on the eyes and i think he deserves a girl who'll make him happy, but that's not me. i kissed him because i wanted to distract myself from my feelings. and i'm bad at talking about my feelings. so i just push them down and pray that they'll disappear over time but... some stuff just stays."
robin was trying to understand what you meant, she couldn't exactly understand who you were referring to, "so what are you saying exactly?"
"i like you." you blurted out, "maybe even love you. you're my best friend, and i didn't wanna ruin years of friendship because of how i felt about you. and you have a crush on vickie, which is cool. i'm happy for you, but i just... can't go on without being honest with myself. and i'm sorry if i'm talking too much and i-" but the buckley had cut you off with a kiss. and this time around, it felt great, and it felt real. the feelings and emotions were all there on both ends. she pulled away a few inches to just rest her forehead against yours, "i feel the exact same way. for years, actually."
you gasped in surprised and lightly and playfully punched her shoulder, "are you serious? why didn't you say anything?"
"i didn't think you'd feel the same." and she pulled away from your face with a big smile on her face, "especially since i thought you were straight and i didn't wanna ruin our friendship." and the two of you giggled like idiots. you brought her into another kiss before hugging her tightly, "we're both such idiots."
"yeah, pretty much." she chuckled.
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hawkinsmethlab · 10 months
Text
Dustin is quiet on the ride to his house.
Unusual, but nothing unheard of, especially when he’s thinking hard about something. From what Steve had been able to pick up before he’d dropped off Mike and Lucas, there’s a lot going on in the Dumpsters and Dangers department.
Steve is half-tempted to ask him about it, even though he won’t understand a single word, just to see Dustin get excited about something. Not that he’d ever admit it to the kid’s face, but he’s missed him a bit. Ever since he started up Hellfire it’s been “Eddie this” and “Eddie that.” Give him a break.
But, it’s a bad listening day, and Steve’s really just trying to hear the commercial on the radio over the sharp ringing in his right ear. It’s one that plays a million times a day and he knows it by heart at this point, but that kind of makes it worse. Just means he knows when he’s missing a word or a sound effect.
But it’s fine. He’s handling it. The constant ringing used to make him feel like he was going insane, especially on bad days like this where it’s like a physical presence in his head that leaves him feeling lopsided, like the Upside Down itself is pulling on him. Coming and going in piercing waves that block out any other noise, no matter how loud or how close.
Robin thinks it’s a problem.
“I’m dealing with it,” he’d told her, both of them on her bed with her history textbook in his lap. She had a test on Monday and sure, Steve wasn’t the best student, but he’d helped Nancy study a million times.
“Sure,” Robin said. “Except that you aren’t. You’re avoiding it, and those are two very different things. Do I need to pull out my dictionary and beat you over the head with it?”
“Which one, you have like, seven in here.”
“Maybe we can try them all just to see what sticks.” Then, she’d folded herself over the edge of her bed to rummage around in her bag. “But also, I was just thinking, maybe we could give this a try?”
She handed him a folded up piece of paper, biting her lip. Steve took it, skeptical, and unfolded it to see a poster for the Bloomington community center that read American Sign Language Lessons.
At Steve’s extended silence of like, a second, she continued, “I thought we could do it together. For fun. Really up our trash talk game.”
Steve had just stared at it, dread settling low in his stomach like a sack of rocks. He dropped the poster on the bed. “Thanks, but neither of us are deaf. We don’t need it.”
She’d sighed. “Steve--”
“‘In which battle was Napoleon defeated?’”
“Waterloo, easy, but listen to me. ASL isn’t just for deaf people. Besides, you don’t have to wait until you can’t hear anything at all to start learning. I mean, you could, that’s the whole point of the language, but I don’t think you would handle it very well.”
“Rude.”
“I’m just saying.” She rolled her eyes. “Maybe we could even get some of the kids into it. I bet Dustin would--”
“No, Robin.” It came out a bit more harsh than he’d meant it, a little scared and he hated that. He crossed his arms just in case his hands decided to start shaking. “Just. Can we drop it?”
Robin, being Robin and he loved her for it but Jesus, leaned forward on her elbows. Steve raised his legs a little to hide the textbook. He wouldn’t put it past her to use this as some kind of con to cheat. Not that she needed to, she’s a genius.
“Steve,” she said, “you can’t just not tell them forever. Eventually, one of them is going to figure it out, and I don’t know about you, but I’d rather tell somebody something like that on my own terms.”
“I’m not not telling them,” he insisted. “It just hasn’t come up.”
“In five months? Or no, you said Billy is when it got really bad and that was a year ago. There hasn’t been a single moment in all that time where someone hasn’t noticed something different?”
Sure they had. A few different times. But, he’d always been kind of air headed and spacey, even before his concussions so it was easy enough for them to just brush it off as Steve being Steve. “I thought I was here to help you study.”
Robin looked at him like he was one of her crossword puzzles. “I’m just trying to understand why you told me and no one else. That’s all.”
“That’s...different.”
What did she want him to say? That to tell her had been one of the scariest moments of his life, had made him miss the demodog-infested tunnels, had made him feel like he needed a bat in his hands? That saying it, any of it, out loud had left him feeling like he needed to hurl? That the thought of telling anyone else who wasn’t her, as wild as that was for someone he’d met six and a half months ago, left him on the edge of a fucking panic attack?
Yeah, sure, he’d get right on that.
Robin stared at him a little longer before she leaned back, the fight gone. “Fine.” She reached over and grabbed the poster, folded it back up and put it back in her bag. “Just promise me you’ll give it some thought? Even just a little?”
“Scout’s honor.” He held up his hand.
“You were never a scout. And that’s the wrong hand.”
“I went to summer camp that one time!”
“That’s not the boy scouts, Steve!”
It’s been three days since then, and as much as he would like to forget about the whole thing, he’s been kind of agonizing over it. Over what Robin had said, about them figuring it out on their own. Would that be better? Worse?
Either option leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Makes him want to dig Billy up from his grave just to put him back in it. Him and those fucking Russians.
There’s a slap on his arm. “Steve!” Dustin’s glaring at him. “Jesus, finally. You just passed my house.”
Oh. Whoops. “My bad.” He pulls into a random driveway to turn around. “Don’t have to shout, man, car’s only so big.”
“I said your name like six times.”
Steve sighs and wishes for about the millionth time that his tinny-whatever-Owens-had-called-it had a dial so he could turn it down. Or off, really, that’d be great. “Sorry, I guess I’m a little distracted. Some--work thing that Keith’s on my ass about.”
He pulls up in front of Dustin’s house and debates getting out. On any other day he’d be happy to walk him to the door and talk to Mrs. Henderson, but that usually leads to her inviting (or ordering) him to stay for dinner, and while his stomach is more than on board for whatever she’s whipped up, his head has the louder argument.
“Alright, man,” he says and cuts off the radio. “I’ll see you later.”
Dustin doesn’t move. He’s got his backpack on his lap and a loose grip on the door handle, but that’s it. He almost looks...nervous?
He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Dustin nervous before.
“What’s up?” Steve asks. “Your mom pissed at you or something?”
Dustin scoffs. “Please, I’m an angel.”
“Only in her eyes. Come on, what’s bugging you? Something one of the guys said? A kid at school? Some sort of mathematical nerd thing that’s got you stumped?” He gasps. “It’s not Suzie, is it, I swear to god--”
Dustin looks almost scandalized at that. “No. What? No. Nothing like that. I’m just--” He’s suddenly back to nervous. He starts picking at the zipper on his backpack, takes his hand off the door. “I’m just not sure how to--”
After a few more seconds of stuttering silence, Steve rolls his eyes. “Dustin, just spit it out. Whatever it is, you can talk to me. I mean, I can’t promise how helpful talking to me will be, with all the stuff you guys get up to but hey, I can at least try, right?”
Dustin sighs and turns in his seat to face Steve more fully. He seems to steel himself before saying, “Okay. I just want to say, before we move forward, that I’m not mad.”
Oh. Not exactly what he was expecting. “...Okay? I’m not either.”
“And I still think you’re cool or whatever, and we’ll still be friends no matter what.”
Steve nods, completely lost. “Right.”
“Because society can say whatever the fuck it wants!” Dustin is yelling suddenly. “And they can go on and on about the bible and whatever the hell Reagan is talking about, but you’re my friend, dammit! You’re my friend!”
“Whoa, Dustin!” Steve raises his hands, both to calm him down and maybe to protect himself a little. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Dustin takes a deep breath. “I’m talking about how you’re--” He looks around, as if they weren’t alone in the car, then whispers, “About how you’re gay.”
Steve blinks, slowly. There was no way he heard that right. Right? “You think I’m what?”
“I know,” Dustin says. He puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder in what he assumes is supposed to be comforting. “I know that you’re gay and I just want to tell you that it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with it.”
Steve leans back and stares at him. Dustin leans with him, keeping his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m not gay.”
“You don’t have to hide from me anymore,” he says. “I love you, you’re my friend, one of my best friends, and nothing is gonna change that.”
“Well, that’s great and I appreciate it, but I’m still not gay.”
“Yes.” Dustin nods solemnly. “You are.”
Steve laughs. A short one, like a gunshot, and pinches the bridge of his nose. When Robin had told him about people drawing their own conclusions, she probably hadn’t imagined something like this. God, he can’t ever tell her about this. “Oh my god. Okay. What, uh, what gave me away?”
“Well, really, you shouldn’t feel too bad. I don’t think anyone else has noticed.”
“Hmm.”
“But you’ve just been kind of out of it lately. Distracted more, like right now, driving me home, or when we watch movies. Don’t think I didn’t see you staring at Harrison Ford. Raiders of the Lost Ark and Star Wars, dude.”
“Now hold on, that’s not--”
“And then, back at Thanksgiving, when my mom was telling you that story about me and Suzie and you just looked so uncomfortable--”
Because Steve hadn’t had a single clue what she was talking about.
“--plus, I’ve seen the way you look at Eddie so--”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait.” Steve scoffs. “How I look at Munson? The Freak.”
“Well, yeah, it’s like you’re being tortured or something.” He shrugs. “It’s kind of romantic, honestly.”
Jesus Christ. “Okay. Wow.” This is worse than every Upside Down encounter combined. “Dustin, I will repeat: I am not gay. There’s an explanation for all of those things, but it doesn’t involve my sexuality in any way. Got it?”
Dustin raises an eyebrow, totally not believing him. Finally, he leans back. Crosses his arms. “Alright then, I’m listening.”
Whenever he did let himself picture how telling one of the kids would go, this hadn’t been what he’d imagined. But really, this has already gone so terribly, so how could it possibly get worse?
(Dustin could look at him like he’s broken, like he doesn’t recognize him, could tell him that he doesn’t trust Steve to watch his back, could start treating him differently or avoiding him, he’s already hanging out with Munson more, why not just abandon him altogether--)
“Alright.” He runs a hand through his hair before settling it on the bottom of the wheel, gripping it so tight his knuckles go sheet white. “So. Yeah, I’ve been distracted and not...listening as well.”
“Because you’ve been thinking about--”
“Nope!” Steve closes his eyes. Deep breaths and quick prayer to not kill a child. “It’s because I literally can’t listen as well as I used to. I--I have hearing loss.”
His second time saying it out loud to another person and it’s met with a similar kind of gut-turning silence. Steve watches Dustin’s face go through several rapid changes before settling on something confused, his mouth slightly open and his eyebrows low.
“Oh.”
Then he looks mad.
“You have what? Dude!” He starts slapping Steve across his arm. “Since when?”
“Since--Jesus, man, stop! Since the mall fire, okay?”
Dustin freezes and Steve does too, the guilt like ice in his chest. He looks at Dustin and knows he’s thinking about the elevator and the bunker and the sizzling of human flesh under a fucked up cattle prod. It had been a tough summer for all of them, but Steve won’t ever be able to forget how Dustin had sat next to him in his car, just like this, trembling when he told Steve about how he was having nightmares. About how he thinks he might have killed that guy, and what did that make him?
A hero, Steve had told him. You saved our lives.
“If I hadn’t--” Dustin starts.
“Cutting you off there, Henderson. This,” Steve waves a hand around his face, “is not your problem. Okay? It has nothing to do with you.”
Dustin looks so small then, so lost, and Steve feels his heart twist. He reaches over and ruffles his hair. “It’ll be okay. I can still hear out of my right ear, so I’ve got that going for me.”
Dustin frowns. “Does anyone else know?”
“Only you and Robin. I just...haven’t found the right time.”
“The right time being when? It’s been months. If we’d known, we could have helped you.”
Just like with Robin, he doesn’t have a good answer. Doesn’t really have any answer, and doesn’t know when he will. “I’ll get around to it. Sometime. But,” he locks eyes with Dustin, “you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone until I’m ready.”
“Steve--”
“Promise me, Dustin.” He stares him down. “I’m dead serious.”
Dustin sighs, but nods. “Alright.”
“On your mom’s life?”
Dustin recoils. “Dude, you’re bringing my mom into this?” Then, “Alright, fine, I swear on my mother’s life. Cross my heart and hope to die and all that shit, I won’t tell a soul.”
“Thanks.” Steve claps him on the shoulder. “Now get out.”
“Does Robin know you’re gay?”
“What?” Robin can never know about this conversation. “Dude, no, I’m not gay!”
“So you are dating Robin.”
“I’m not dating anyone! Definitely not Robin, and I don’t have any kind of crush on Munson or anyone else!”
“But I swear, the way you look at him--”
“I hate his guts, now get out or I’ll hold your hat hostage.”
With a proper amount of grumbling, Dustin manhandles his backpack and steps out. He goes to shut the door, but pauses. “You know, you saved my life too. I’ve got your back no matter what. Okay?”
His eyes sting, so he itches his nose. Clears his throat to make sure it won’t crack when he says, “Yeah, Dustin, I know. You too.”
The next second he’s gone and Steve, alone in his car, is left to think that maybe...ASL lessons might not be so bad.
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mvltisstuff · 9 months
Note
Hello! ✨🤭 Here it continues to be July 23. So happy friendship day 🥺 maybe we are not very, very, very, very, very, very close friends. But your writings are a band-aid to my heart. Thank you for writing the two Next Step requests and the Skyfall one I sent. I think I'm asking for too many requests. Sorry 🙈
But thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you very much. ✨
Well, could you make a request for Evan Buckley, please 🙈 with the song Genius by LSD ft. Sia.
Imagine like a second part of the previous Skyfall write up. Well this time the media and fans started to speculate about reader and Buck's relationship. This after the leak of some photos in which reader supposedly kissed outside the set to his co-star (not yet decided by the actor 🙈). And the rumors intensified the moment his co-star hinted at something off set. Reader is upset about it.
But then Buck is a ge-ge-ge-genius.
He had learned how the entertainment milieu works and how to protect his girlfriend and current fiancée. (it's just a thought) 🙈 🤭
Have a nice day and thank you very much 🤗✨
-Here little bell 🧚
genius (skyfall cont.) - e.b
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summary: request
evan buckley x reader
gif by @meep-meep-richie
a/n: your requests are beautiful like you, thank you again 🩷 also i hope you don’t mind that the actor is unnamed, i didn’t know who to put
the photos leaked day after the scene that y/n had to do. the whole picture was taken out of context, fans unknowingly posting that she was in public with another man. the movie was filmed in a small town in california, one that looked simple and calm before the paparazzi and camera crew set up.
y/n knows all the tricks of the media by now from being in the industry. she’s memorized every way people can twist a story or photo. especially since she revealed her relationship with buck at the oscar’s.
buck knew that she had to kiss other guys for work, but he didn’t diminish her for it. there was no need, he knew she loved him and no one else. the way she looked when he walked in or told her stories from work, he felt like a hero. he was, in her eyes.
when her co-star was brought on set, y/n was delighted. she loved his work, and was confident in their abilities to work together. they were great friends, going to lunch and introducing him to buck. there were more photos of them being released, so people assumed y/n was sneaking around. it didn’t sit right with her at all, because actors don’t get the same amount of scrutiny for that as actresses do.
y/n let it pass by, knowing that she and buck are the only important things now, and they know the truth. they don’t need people online to tell their fake business. she only started to squirm at the though when she noticed the star getting closer to her, and talking to her more. he flirted with her relentlessly, and y/n just tried to remove herself. after a pretentious day of filming, y/n drove back to her place where buck was waiting.
“hey!” he smiles when she walks in the front door. “how was your day?”
y/n places her stuff on the hooks and her purse on the table. she walks over to stand next to buck, who wraps his arms around her. “it was alright, a lot of stunts today.”
“something sounds off, did something happen?”
“no, it’s just…” she paused. she didn’t want to upset buck or worry him, but she wants to confide in someone about what she’s feeling. “he won’t stop hitting on me, and i wish he wouldn’t. i feel bad, but he knows i have a boyfriend.”
“do you want me to say something?”
“no, it’s fine. i can handle it,” y/n sighs, pulling herself away from buck. “we can order out tonight.”
bucks mind was filled with ideas about the acting community. how she has to watch her every move around people, and how viewers take information. he wanted to stop this guy from trying to hit it off with his girlfriend, but he didn’t want to cause anything. everyone knows everyone in los angeles, and it would surely get out if he made a huge deal of it.
buck had a plan instantly. the next day when he got to work, he requested bobby to borrow the truck with a few others. he tapped his fingers on his knee in excitement to see y/n at work, but also for her to see him again. he doesn’t usually boast, but it makes him feel really good. plus, she loves the uniform. he pulled into the parking lot with his near uniform and badges, adjusting himself and his hair as he walked in.
“we’ll have to test the cameras, and then-“ the director was speaking to her team before noticing buck and a few other firefighters around her. “can we help you?” she asks politely to the crew.
“we just got reports of a suspicious smell,” buck replies. “just want to make sure it’s not a gas leak or anything of the sort,” he looks around at the group of actors before spotting y/n who has a knowing smirk on her face. he barely manages to conceal his own instead of the gentle work smile.
“of course,” says the director. a few of the others move around. everyone knows buck, the guy dating y/n. but, he’s the man y/n loves, so when he walks over it’s clear on her face. he plants his hands on her arms, kissing her cheek and slightly glaring at her main actor.
“suspicious smell, huh? how creative,” y/n teases.
“i wanted to see you, and he’s lucky he didn’t get caught,” y/n laughs, looking him up and down in his uniform.
“you know i love seeing you in this,” she whispers raspy.
“don’t get too worked up, baby,” buck winks, making y/n’s eyes roll and push him away jokingly. “i have to get back, i’ll see you tonight?”
“you know it,” y/n tells him, watching him walk away with his gear and the slightly pale face of her costar from the stare buck gave him.
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AITA for calling out my girlfriend for being fake about our relationship on social media?
So I (26M) have a girlfriend (26F) let's call her Zoe. Zoe and I have been dating for three years, and she is a good person, I fell in love with her because she's compassionate and kind and she came across as genuine. However she is also a hopeless romantic, she idealizes romantic relationships and she is very emotionally codependent even though she claims she's not when her friends point this out to her.
Ever since we started dating, Zoe constantly posts about our relationship online, about how perfect everything is even though our relationship isn't perfect because no relationship is. For example she will post something like "communication is key" and days later, if I notice she's quiet and upset, I ask her what's wrong and she's like "nothing, goodbye." Other times she has asked me to take selfies with her during a date and then she would spend the rest of the date on her phone, posting our selfies and basking in the feedback. I use social media too and I think it's OK to occasionally post about our relationship, but she does it too much too often and it's honestly something I don't like. I feel like we're putting up a performance I don't even want to be a part of, and when I try to bring this up and talk about how it makes me feel, Zoe just snaps, starts yelling about how there is nothing wrong with showing the world how much we love each other, and she ends up crying until I feel so bad I apologize to her.
Zoe idealizes everything about our relationship on her social media. From what we had for lunch to what I bought her for her birthday. But I feel uncomfortable knowing that she's straight up lying to people by saying our relationship is perfect. Zoe is a good person and I don't want to lose her, but I just don't like it when someone flaunts their partner 24/7, man, woman or genderqueer. It feels forced, fake, and like you are trying to get validation from the whole world, including them in your relationship. Our relationship should only consist of Zoe and I (we aren't polyamorous). It makes me feel like dating me and loving me is her only personality trait. When we started dating we were 23 and I thought it was cute and adorable, but now I realize I don't like that anymore. Now I think emotional independence is much more attractive. Zoe is a lovely person but she's codependent, she acts like a little girl at times and I'm starting to feel more like my role is to be a father to her, not a boyfriend, which is honestly not something I'm into.
A couple of days ago we had an argument about this because I told her she can't keep calling me every two hours. Zoe needs a lot of reassurance because her fear of abandonment is extremely debilitating and I understand that, but part of becoming an adult is learning how to cope with our own fears and insecurities; she just expects me to manage it for her and calls me when I'm at work, at the doctor, at my parent's place, with my friends, etc. I feel like I'm not allowed to have a life outside of her and I told her I do want to give her emotional support, but that she also needs to learn how to manage her own fears herself.
She got really upset and as always I apologized, then she took a selfie with me and posted it before adding again how true love always wins in the end and how she couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend, how she couldn't imagine herself with anyone else and how she didn't want to imagine herself with anyone else, how perfect we are for each other and how perfect our relationship is and I just couldn't take it anymore. I told Zoe she was being fake and projecting an illusion of perfection that was not real, and that she should stop lying and pretending our relationship is all perfect and happy and a fairytale-like because I don't want to be idealized, and she seems to love the idea of love, the idea of me and not the actual me. I was sick of not being able to speak my mind out of fear that her feelings would get hurt again. I'm tired of being something she flaunts. I do think good relationships aren't that loud about how good they are and even though I love Zoe, I don't like how fake she was being and clearly I am no longer what she needs to feel secure in a relationships.
After I told her she was being fake, she then blocked my phone number, she has gone incredibly silent on her social media (even though I know she's okay because today she posted a meme about how horrible men are) and I feel like an asshole. AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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