#needed to write up a long rant because ive had this shit on the mind a while

[milklovesbyler]

HOW AND WHY AND WHEN DID THE BYLER REALISATION HIT ME - RANT

okay this is long so skip to S4 section for the more interesting stuff/when i found out about byler!

hii okay my first post on this blog! im still pretty new to tumblr but learned that u can have multiple blogs and my mind is blown. i also have an art blog i post on once a millenia @milkymetari !

Ive been a stranger things fan since 2019 when i was 13!

So i started watching stranger things in 2019 after season 3 had came out and the series peaked my interest, ive always been a fan of scifi stuff and oh boy stranger things is so cool and (mostly) well written!

When i say i LOVED mileven im not kidding, I WAS OBSESSED. On the outside theyre a picture perfect cute teenage couple, and my idealisation of that (and cmon guys eleven is like the coolest character ever) and els badassness and powers, i loved mileven.

I mean as a concept their relationship is really cute if we read it as that but yeah i do NOT ship them anymore like that 😭

Yeah i remember myself sometimes wondering about the weird things in their relationship (the way they dont share almost any interests, only kiss and mikes weird actions) but i think due to heteronormativity (toxic ships are wayy too normalized also in lgbt media) and how poorly usually female characters (but in this case mike lmao) and their relationships are written in media so i guess i had just grown to try not to care, and yeah i was just 13.

So honestly i didnt see/know byler back then AT ALL! I grew up as a semi homophobic kid because thats what i was taught, but around the time i started watching ST i grew as a person a lot and i realised maybe my ass isnt as straight as i thought ☠️ Honestly wish i did know about byler since i think seeing mikes struggles (and wills) wouldve helped me a lot! 💔

I didnt think too deeply about any media i consumed at that age, and i was already used to just not care about bad writing so i thought flaws in mileven were normal writing mistakes etc. Or how the byler fight was clearly more intense than the mileven break up 😭😭

But again i did not catch onto it.

ST 4 in 2022!!

So the year is 2022 and i excitesly watch season 4 part 1. I usually try to avoid spoilers etc on the internet so i kept myself away from st tiktok and other platforms. After i finished it i saw like a shit ton of edits of all the characters and speculation about the last 2 eps.. THEN somewhere around that time it happened, i stumbled upon byler.

okay first, i need to talk about mileven a bit, the first few episodes it was sweet, but it was obvious el was lying and unhappy, i was hoping that mike would grow and learn to be a better boyfriend and theyd end up back together.

so about byler, first i thought it was like any other ship as usual and i wasnt as blind to homoerotic chemistry anymore so it wasnt anything new or surpricing.

well, what was surpricing was HOW FUCKING BLIND I HAD BEEN TO HOW MIKE AND WILL ACTED

i mean i was confused while watching part 1 for the first time but closeness between the two was nothing unusual, and mike lashing out on will had already happened in s3 too, but yeah i was so flabbergasted and embarrased how i hadnt noticed 😭 like girl, the lip staring, yearning gazes and awkward conversations

down the rabbit hole i went and hehe😈 i got my bestie into it too and she was like omg ur so right we both agree they are endgame bbecause like theres so much evidence its not a coincidence.

ill probably make a separate post on some of the genious thoughts we had about mileven and byler in 2022 lol

i hope someone read this all, thank you <3

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

Gods of Gotham Harley Quinn x Poison Ivy AU

"The last time I touched someone's skin without killing or harming them? Never."

Harley stills, her blue eyes wide and fragile as she stares at Ivy. "That's really fucking sad, Ive."

Ivy shrugs. "It's just a fact of life. As much a part of me as my hands or my legs or the plants."

For a long moment, Harley is uncharacteristically silent. It makes Ivy uncomfortable, and she casts about for subject change. She's just about to open her mouth to speak when Harley snaps her glove off her right hand and holds it out to her. Ivy looks up at her, confused.

"Wanna try an experiment, Red?"

Harley wiggles her fingers mischievously, like it's a joke. Her eyes land on Ivy's hands folded near the edge of the table."

"What?" Ivy's eyes widen in shock. "You're fucking kidding me, right?"

Harley blinks up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "No? I just wanna try it!"

"No! Harley, are you insane?" Ivy snatches her hands off the table, cradling it to her chest.

"Probably." Harley grins, still holding up her hand. "But that's not the point." She gives Ivy another wry lopsided grin.

"Haven't you heard? I can do anything I want now." There's a glimmer of seriousness in those blue eyes that shocks Ivy more than the manic swings in mood. There's more madness in that lucidity than there is in the mania.

"Anything I want can happen." There's no escaping the genuine light in those blue eyes. They're electric.

"And right now, I really want to touch your hand, Ivy."

So I got this idea from a trailer that had absolutely nothing to do with the theme or Harlivy, but it grew a mind of its own, so. Special thanks to joh and mickey who encouraged this madness and listened to me rant and rave about this thing 3 YEARS AGO (holy shit how has it been 3 years??).

I based this on the some of the comics, the Harley Quinn animated show and Birds of Prey the movie.

TW: abuse, some dark themes

Also, just so y’all know, I write a few scenes in the Joker’s POV in this, and I’m not gonna lie, he’s gross. I wanna punch his teeth in and I’m the one writing him. I’ll mark those with ****

Modern gods AU.

Joker, Ivy and Selina were part of a cabal of Old Gods. Thousands of years old and once all-powerful and worshiped by the humans.

Ivy is the goddess of the Earth

Joker is the god of Chaos

Selina is the goddess of Secrets

But the Old Gods' power has been waning for a long time, because no one practices the Old Religions any longer.

However, there is a prophecy that one day, the gods will rise again, their powers renewed, when the Queen comes.

According to the Oracle, the Queen's power will transform the face of the earth, and restore the power of the Old Gods. But to do that, she will have to make a choice, and with that choice, she will have the power to tip the scales of the world.

Except no one knows who the Queen is, or when she will arrive.

Flash forward to the present, when Harleen Quinzel moves to Gotham.

She's a newly licensed psychiatrist. Fresh out of school, she gets assigned to Arkham prison. Like a lamb to slaughter.

At this time, Joker is a "prisoner" in Arkham. He stays there because that's where he can sow the most chaos. He uses the guards and the warden to sow discord and control the inmates. And he rouses the inmates to violence, even the innocent ones. He uses his position there to nurse his waning power.

Before she starts at Arkham, Harleen moves into a crappy little apartment in Downtown Gotham.

It's in an unsafe neighborhood and it's rundown. All it's got going for it is that it's cheap, and with all her debt from student loans, Harley needs cheap.

But after a few weeks, it doesn't escape her that the apartment she's in seems to be a lot safer than the others around it.

For one thing, there's less muggings on their street. And any packages that are left on Harleen's front door are still there at the end of the day, whereas at any other apartment, they would've been long gone before she even knew they'd arrived.

Hell, there are even more trees on their block than the whole of downtown Gotham. Her building is a pre-war brownstone, its once-spectacular beauty hidden by a wall of ivy covering the top floors. It must have been an architectural masterpiece to last this long without the significant damage other buildings in Gotham have taken over the years.

Harley mentions it to her landlord, a grizzled old man in a wheelchair named Sy, and compliments him on it. But Sy just shakes his head.

"Wish I could take credit, but it's not me to thank for that. Thank Ivy." Sy nods up at the floor above Harleen's.

She follows his stare to the only open window in the building. Harleen squints, but she can't see anyone through it. "My upstairs neighbor?"

Sy grunts in the affirmative. "Haven't met her yet, have you?" Harley shakes her head. Sy hums thoughtfully.

"Didn't think so. She keeps to herself, that one. Always has. Doesn't like people much, you see. But she's one of the few good ones left, so you can't blame people for coming to her for protection."

Harleen stares at him. "Protection? Is she some kind of mob boss or something?"

Sy snorts and barks out a laugh. "Ha! I'll tell her you said that. She'll get a kick out of it. Or it'll piss her off, which always gives me a laugh."

[Sy is technically a priest at Ivy's temple. He's human, but Ivy has given him a longer life span in return for his loyalty.]

Harley makes one other friend at the apartment complex. 

Cass is a prickly kid, street-smart with sharp eyes and quick fingers that miss nothing. The minute Harley realizes that Cass picked her purse, she's already endeared.

[Cassandra is the daughter of the Oracle who made the prophecy about the Queen. The Joker kidnapped and tortured the Oracle when she wouldn't reveal the identity of the Queen. When the Oracle died, baby Cass was smuggled by one of the Oracle's priestesses to Ivy for protection.]

One evening, Harley is tending to Cass' broken arm, and Cass watches her from underneath her cap.

"There's a lot going on here you don't know, doc. You should be careful."

"Right back atcha, kid." Harley grins lopsidedly as she gently pokes Cass' arm in the cast.

Cass flicks the bill of her cap upwards. "It's not me you should be worried about. Me, I'm safe here. Ivy keeps us safe. She doesn't like people much, but she likes me. She says I'm smart. And tricky. Like an orchid."

Harley smiles. She doesn't know this Ivy yet, but if she can pull that cheeky grin out of the rough young girl, she's gotta be pretty special. "Like an orchid, huh? What does that mean?"

"I 'unno." Cass shrugs. "I think it's cos orchids can trick insects to pollinate and shit."

Harley's grin grows. "Well, you are a tricky one, alright."

She nods at the girl's injured arm as she hops off Harley's kitchen table. Harley pushes a bottle of pills at her. "Keep out of trouble and take two of these if it starts to hurt, alright?"

"Thanks, doc." Cass nods, and for a moment, she stares at her arm and the bottle of pills in her sweaty hand. "Since you helped me, I'll help you.... I meant it."

Harley is busy cleaning up her supplies, but she hums to show the girl she's listening. "Meant what?"

"You should be careful." Cass nudges her arm, and Harley turns to see that the girl's eyes are dark and solemn. "Ivy keeps us safe. He's afraid of her, because she's not afraid of him. But there's only so much she can do. In the end, it has to be your choice."

"He?" Harley frowns. "Who's 'he'? My choice? Cass, what are you talking about?"

But the young girl is already at the door. She turns with a small smile. "Just... don't forget what I said."

Months pass. Not everything is as safe or peachy outside their little corner of Gotham. Especially not at Arkham.

Harley always knew that it wouldn't be all rainbows and sunshine when she first started treating the Joker. But the real thing is another matter entirely.

Now, Harley has always had mental health issues, but it's never been this bad.

The Joker sees the turmoil in her mind – the doubts, the worries, the anxiety, the small hairline fractures in Harleen's psyche –  and he sees chaos that he can play with.

The further they go in their sessions, the more Joker pulls and prods at that chaos, molding it like clay

And Harleen, being a new transplant to Gotham, doesn't really have a solid support system.

Sometimes she thinks she should step away, call her family, call her friends. But she doesn't. Going back home, even for a short stay, feels too much like admitting defeat, like admitting that she couldn't hack it in the big bad city all by herself.

When Harleen gets back to her apartment, she has no energy to socialize, and no mental energy to do much more than eat leftover takeout and crash into bed. 

She stays pretty much isolated. She knows a few of her neighbors, but her landlord and the local latchkey kid aren't exactly the pinnacle of socialization.

So when she gets to her front door one night and finds the mail with the incorrect address belonging to her upstairs neighbor, she decides maybe it's time to expand her social circle a little bit, even if it's just one flight up.

The name on the envelope says "Dr. Pamela Isley", but the apartment is the one right above Harleen's, the one Sy had said belonged to the mysterious "Ivy".

All Harley knows about her upstairs neighbor are snatches of conversation she's gotten from Sy and Cass, but what she's heard so far is intriguing. She's not gonna deny, she's curious to meet her.

Harley makes her way up the dimly lit stairs and traverses the drab grey hallway until she gets to the right door. She just got home from work, and she's not feeling or looking her best, to be quite honest. Spending any amount of time with the Joker will do that to you, apparently. And the hours she'd spent doing research on him afterward hadn't helped.

Self consciously, Harley adjusts her hair and straightens her blouse before knocking on the door. No answer.

She gives it a few seconds, tapping one finger on the corner of the envelope in her hands. Still nothing.

She knocks again a few times, with the same response. Maybe she's not home? And didn't both Sy and Cass say that this Ivy doesn't like people? She probably wouldn't appreciate being bothered by a nosy new neighbor.

Harley lays her palm flat on the door, and tries one last time. "Dr. Isley?" she calls as softly as she can through the door. "Hi, I'm sorry to bother you, I'm your neighbor from downstairs. My name's Harleen Quinzel? I got some of your mail by mistake."

There's still no answer. Discouraged, Harley lets her hand trail away from the door. She's just about to turn away when the door opens just the slightest bit.

The room within is dark, but Harley can make out a pair of eyes narrowed suspiciously at her. At first, the eyes look black, but as Harley steps closer, she realizes they're a very dark forest green.

"Dr. Isley?" The door opens slightly wider, just enough for a slim hand to reach through.

"Yes." The woman's voice sounds almost droll, and the hand reaching through the door turns imperiously, clearly demanding her mail. Harley pulls the envelope out of reach.

Dark eyes narrow at her through the crack in the door. Harley smiles back brightly. "I think whoever switched our mail might have given you some of mine too?"

There's a huff of annoyance from behind the door, but Harley waits innocently on the other side, rocking a little bit on her heels. The door opens wider and the figure of Dr. Pamela Isley retreats beyond it. Not one to waste a chance, Harley steps through.

The moment she steps in, the difference between the apartment and the rest of the building is stark.

The whole complex is rundown, and that's apparent, even in Pamela Isley's apartment. The walls have the same peeling wallpaper and greyish undertone, but that's where the similarities end. The whole apartment is covered with plants, vines trailing from the ceiling or climbing the walls. It's clear that this is the source of the ivy crawling up the side of their building. 

The whole place reminds Harley of pictures she's seen of abandoned places where nature had taken over. Manmade structures and things reclaimed by the green of nature. There's almost a feral beauty about it.

The open window provides enough light, but with so much foliage, it casts a faintly green light on the drab grey walls. The same faintly greenish glow even covers the woman across the room. The woman's back is turned to her as she reaches into a drawer on a desk that's crowded with potted plants. Harley takes the opportunity to study the woman without her noticing. The first word that comes immediately to Harley's mind is dangerous.

It's an odd thought to have about a seemingly normal woman, but there it is. There's something about this woman that seems dangerous to Harley.

Maybe it's the fact that everything about this woman seems so sharp. From the steep line of her jaw to the cut-glass prominence of her cheekbones to the angular sweep of her narrow eyes. Even the line of her body under loose clothes is sharp and sleek, the geometric jutting of elbows and hips contrasting with the languid, deliberate grace of her movements. 

An inane thought passes Harley's mind. A woman this sharp could cut her like a blade. She swallows and turns her focus to the plants around her.

Vines curl and climb the trellis beside her, its leaves a bright and warm green. One of its tiny shoots reaches out to her, the three small leaves looking like diamonds. Harley, ever tactile, reaches out a finger to touch them.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." Harley's head snaps up at Dr. Isley's words. Her voice is cool and unaffected, but there's a dark look in her eyes as she turns to Harley, displaying the steep line of her profile.

"Toxicodendron orientale." The other woman tilts her head with a raised eyebrow. "Poison Ivy."

"Oh!" Harley snaps her fingers back, her cheeks flushing. She studies the vine instead. The way it clings to the trellis and climbs sinuously around it, the stem supple as it wraps around the wooden dowels. Harley can even see a few tiny, star-like white flowers, and a scattering of pearlescent berries hidden in the vines. "It's beautiful."

The other woman turns to face her fully, her long blood-red hair – the only soft thing about her, Harley thinks inanely – falling over one shoulder. She looks at her through narrow eyes for a long moment, and Harley can feel herself squirm just the tiniest bit under her scrutiny.

Then the other woman's eyes soften at the edges, and for the first time, Pamela Isley smiles at her. "Most poisonous things are."

She holds out a sheaf of letters to Harley, who takes them with the slightest tremble in her hands. Their fingers don't touch, but Harley almost wishes they would.

"Thank you, Dr. Isley."

Dark eyes linger on her, and the corners of a thin, sharp mouth lift. "Call me Ivy."

Harley's eyes flit over the plant beside her. Ivy. Poisonous. Dangerous.

"Nice to meet you, Ivy."

A few weeks pass, and Harley is sucked in more and more into her work at Arkham.

Every night, Harley comes home from Arkham bone tired.

It's beginning to feel like willingly jumping into a black pit everyday, knowing that there are unspeakable horrors within, and having to claw and climb her way out every night.

Except every time, it becomes harder and harder to get out, the darkness sticking to her and pulling a little more of her back every time.

Most nights, Harley washes it all down with some cheap whiskey from the liquor store around the corner, while she stares unseeingly at the TV she's only turned on to drown out the voices that have begun whispering to her whenever she has a moment of silence. And fuck, if she hasn't turned out like her dear old Dad.

The thought disturbs her so much that she immediately leaps off the couch as if it had been infected. Cursing loudly, she opens the window to let some fresh air in.

"Dr. Quinzel?"

Harley's head snaps up, nearly hitting the window sash. She sticks her head out the window a little and peers upward. Through the slats of the fire escape, she sees a slender figure seated on the platform above hers.

"Ivy?"

The other woman raises a slow hand in greeting, and that's all the invitation Harley needs. She squeezes herself out the window and onto her fire escape. It's a little cold out, but anything's gotta be better than turning into a younger female version of her couch-bound alcoholic father.

"It's Harley." She corrects, leaning back over the railing to get a better view of the other woman. "What are you doing out here?"

Ivy shrugs. "I like to come out here sometimes. It's the best place in the building to get some sun."

"It's 9 pm." Harley points out.

"Yes, well." Ivy looks a little sheepish. "I must confess, I fell asleep in the sun, and when I woke up, it was too nice a night to go back in. It's hard to find a bit of nature in Gotham, at least not anymore, but being outdoors makes me feel just a little bit closer to how it used to be."

Harley finds that a little odd, because Gotham has been an industrial cityscape even before she was born. There's never been any "nature" in Gotham, unless you count Robinson Park, and that place has been condemned for as long as she can remember.

Still, the thought of Ivy, the sharp no-nonsense woman with poisonous plants in her apartment, falling asleep under the sun for hours is a little adorable, and it makes her smile. Harley leans back on her elbows on the rail to look up at the other woman.

"I think your apartment is the most 'nature' Gotham has seen in decades. I don't think I've ever seen so much green in Gotham, not even when the Riddler was out."

Ivy rolls her eyes. "Oh, him. He's barely tolerable at best, and a nuisance at worst. Someone should tell him green is not his color."

Harley throws her head back and laughs. "I'll let him know when I see him tomorrow."

"Tell him he still owes me."

Harley tips her head, intrigued and more than a little surprised. "For what? How do you know the Riddler?"

One corner of Ivy's mouth lifts. "Would it surprise you to know that I know most of your patients, doctor?"

Harley quirks her lips. "Honestly, a bit, yeah. What's a nice girl like you doing, getting mixed up with mentally ill criminals?"

Ivy's smile widens, takes on a more mischievous quality. Harley half-expects her to turn that statement back at her – what's a 'nice girl' like Harley doing getting mixed up with those people – the way anyone else would have.

Except Ivy doesn't.

Her eyes go just a little bit darker as she looks down at Harley from above. Harley realizes the imbalance in their positions – Harley sprawled back, looking up at her, and Ivy looking down at her coolly, like a queen perched cross-legged on her fire escape platform.

"Oh, but I'm not a nice girl, Daffodil."

Ivy rises from her perch with one last wink and a smile, before disappearing into her apartment, leaving Harley staring after her.

The next morning, Harley shuffles sleepily from her bedroom to find an unusual sight.

It seems that overnight, a thin vine of ivy has somehow crept from onto the ladder of the fire escape out her window. A closer look confirms that it climbed down from the window of the apartment above her.

The same three-diamond leaf pattern is on the vine, and by now Harley knows not to touch it. Instead, she fills a spray bottle with water and gives the vines a little drink. As she gives the leaves one last spritz, Harley grins at them.

"You're not foolin' anyone, Red."

That becomes the start of an almost nightly habit, a common refrain between her and her upstairs neighbor.

They're only one floor apart, but Harley always calls first – and if there's a flirty little note in her "Can I come over?" so sue her. It's been a while since she’s gotten some and there's no point in denying that her neighbor is hot as fuck.

Once she gets the yes, Harley climbs up to Ivy's apartment through the fire escape, and Ivy lets her in so they can unwind on the couch with ice cream (vegan for Ivy) and pizza (the veggie option for Ivy).

The other woman tells her about her research on the pathological effects of ingesting Crotalaria retusa seeds. Ivy shows her the more unusual plants in her collection.

Harley doesn't talk about her own work. Arkham already occupies her every other waking moment; here, at least, in Ivy's apartment, she can put Arkham down and just be herself with her new friend.

Instead, she tells Ivy about her gymnastics days and how she almost became a pro athlete. She gets a rare laugh out of Ivy when she tells her about her embarrassing crush on Frankie Muniz and her six-year-old self's plot to kidnap him and have his babies.

One thing Harley does find out about Ivy is that she can't stand being touched.

It might be a sensory processing disorder or haphephobia, Harley thinks, but either way, she respects Ivy's boundaries. Which, for her, requires a lot of restraint because she's a very tactile person.

She finds ways around it, she sidles up as close as she can to Ivy without actually touching. Testing and finding the borders of Ivy's personal space every time she's at her apartment.

Sitting close to her on the couch will usually make the redhead smile wryly, but Harley's arm touching her sleeve will make the corners of Ivy's mouth tighten.

Harleen only forgets herself twice.

The first infraction is small. She gets excited about something can't even remember, and she reflexively goes to grab Ivy's hands. Ivy immediately snatches her hands away as if she'd been burnt.

Harley stutters out an apology, a part of her stinging from Ivy's obvious recoil. She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, but when she looks up, Ivy's sharp eyes are softer. She puts her hands on the table between them, her pinky almost but not quite touching Harley's.

The next night when Harley visits again, Ivy is wearing gloves.

Her budding friendship with Ivy means that Harleen’s nights are lighter than her days.

Returning to work at Arkham daily is enough to dispel the lightness and feeling of rest that she gets from spending time with Ivy the night before.

The only good news is that she is finally making progress with her most difficult patient.

The Joker had bested six psychologists before Harleen Quinzel, but she is determined to be the one to break that streak. He can be helped, Harley believes it, and she will give it to him. He just needs someone to reach out a hand to help him out of the abyss.

****

The Joker happily takes it, letting the good doctor think that she’s pulling him out. Little does she know that he’s the one dragging her with him.

It’s so easy. He would’ve thought it would be harder, given the sheer raw power he can feel locked inside the little doctor. Poor Harleen is practically throbbing with it and she has no clue. He can’t wait to spread her open and take it all for himself. Take her. Use her to get what he wants. 

It’s so easy he can’t even be bothered to think of an original story. Instead, he weaves a familiar tale that’s sure to pull at Harley's heartstrings.

"See, I always knew there was something... different about me, doc.” The Joker lets slip a bitter smile. “And everyone else, they noticed. They called me a freak, said the world was better off without me. Everyone... except my Father." He hangs his head enough so that the good doctor will notice. His straightjacket prevents further movement, and he can see Harleen frown, pity in her eyes. "He was always a mean S.O.B., dear old Dad. Everything had to be perfect for him, and he'd beat me stupid if I didn't do things his way. But he kept me, took me in. Called me his son, when everyone else wanted to kill me from the second I was born. Even my biological father." Harleen's big blue eyes are wide and sad. Oh, she is eating this all up like a good little girl. "He always told me, he'd show the world my true power, and together, we'd have them at our feet. But he used me to do it. Made me... do things to hurt people, just to show them I was to be feared. And then everyone had to listen, because they saw what I could do. And for the first time, they didn't look at me as a curse. They looked at me as a god." He lets a note of triumph ooze into his voice, knowing that the sympathy he's earned will be just enough to justify, in a twisted way, his madness to her. "For someone who spent half his life alone, locked behind doors, it felt like freedom. It felt like a grand show, and I finally began to exist. All those lonely days of being hated, and worse, forgotten... I was finally seen. I knew what it felt to exist, and instead of being sneered and spat at, or worse, ignored... Suddenly everyone's faces were smiling when they beheld me. I was finally somebody, and I wanted it to last forever, the spectacle of it all.” 

He pauses for dramatic effect, like the showman he is, and his audience waits with bated breath. “But then, she came, and ended it all." Harleen leans forward. "Who?" The Joker looks away, hiding a smile. Should he tell her? No, not yet. It's too soon, The ragweed's roots aren't deep enough in the good doctor yet. Oh, it's there, he can smell the putrid smell of earth and green and flowers – shit and puke – like a sickly perfume on Harleen's pulse. She's met Ivy, alright. That dirt fucker must be trying to sink her claws into his little godling. Maybe he'll let her, for a little while. It'll be much more enjoyable breaking the ragweed's hold on his little harlequin then, much more delicious to see the betrayal in those big blue eyes, when he finally reveals her name.

"The poisoness. That bitch who took everything from me. "She came to my hideout, my sanctuary, and she ripped it all apart. Killed every last one of my people. And my lieutenant, who fled from her control and sought protection from me..." He chuckles, lets a bitter note bleed into his laughter. "Well, let's just say Two-Face wasn't always called that. Not until she got her hands on him." He can see the distress in Harleen's face as she leans her forearms on the table. "Who? Who was this person?" "Take off the straightjacket, and I'll show you." And the good doctor – so desperate to help, so desperate to matter – does half the work for him. She turns off the camera and slowly releases him.

When she finally sees his chest and the enormous scar marring the length of his sternum, she gasps. He wears the disfigurement with pride.

"The person who gave me this. That's who she is." 

Gentle fingers tentatively touch the ridged flesh of the scar right over his accursed heart. "But - But why?? Why would anyone do this to you?" 

"Because she's afraid." 

"Afraid...." Harleen's big blue eyes widen with realization. Her voice is barely a whisper. "Afraid of you? Why?" 

The Joker is silent, knowing he has a captive audience in the good doctor. In the back of his mind, he gives a silent prod to the guards outside his door. 

The door opens, and a gruff voice interrupts the silence. "Time's up, doc." 

One of the guards sees his loosened straightjacket and immediately levels a gun at him, while the other tightens the straps hard enough to nearly haul his thin frame off the chair. The Joker hangs his head, making sure to look forlorn. Resigned. 

"Wait--" Harleen rises from her chair. "He is my patient, and I removed his straightjacket!" 

"It's protocol." The guard hauling him off the chair sneers. 

"'S alright, doc." The Joker meets her eye, and one corner of his mouth lifts in a wry smile. He laughs bitterly. "It's protocol." 

That breaks Harley, and she stands to her full height. Even in her heels, she's dwarfed by the two guards, and yet, she gets right in their faces. Blue eyes blazing, hair coming out of her neat bun, and that pretty mouth railing indignantly against the guards. 

"This is barbaric! You can't treat him like this! Dr. Leland will hear about this--" Her rant continues even as the door swings shut behind him and the guards.

The Joker smiles inwardly. Oh, she's delicious. 

He makes sure that the two numbskulls holding him rough him up a bit before throwing him into solitary for two weeks. There, he waits for his Harlequin to get him out. 

And that she does, after making enough noise that everyone just had to listen to her. Or maybe it just happened because she wanted it to. Because she willed it so. 

The Joker smiles as they haul him back to therapy covered in healing bruises. Harleen stubbornly removes his straightjacket and she touches the bruise on his temple where the guard’s gun had knocked him out with gentle fingers. 

Everything is going perfectly according to plan.

[I don’t know yet how Harley and Selina meet, but it involves Selina breaking into Ivy’s place to plant sit while Ivy is off dealing with the Ace Chemical board of directors who dumped toxic waste into Gotham Bay. Ivy leaves her a little pot of genetically modified catnip for her cats in return]

Selina is curious about Harley because she can sense her power, and also because she’s surprised at how close Harley had gotten to Ivy in such a short time when it took at least a decade for Ivy to stop trying to kill Selina, and another half a century before they actually became friends. 

Harley doesn’t like Selina at first. Especially not when Ivy gets back and Selina starts hanging around Ivy’s fire escape too.

But Harley eventually warms up to Selina when they’re both delegated plant-sitter while Ivy is out of town for a conference. Harleen’s curiosity gets the better of her and she asks more about Ivy and Selina’s history with her. 

Between glasses of expensive scotch that she had brought over, Selina shares stories for most of the night – like the time she and Ivy were in the Amazon to track down illegal loggers and Ivy had saved her from being nearly flattened by a falling tree (Selina neglects to mention that the tree was falling because Ivy had literally moved the earth to swallow said illegal loggers). And the time Selina had saved Ivy from falling into a manhole (Selina also neglects to mention that this had actually happened during a heist to steal a rare diamond, and said manhole was actually a booby trap littered with metal spikes at the bottom).

Eventually Selina grows on her and the cycle of days at Arkham and nights with Ivy – and occasionally Selina – continues unbroken for Harley.

That is, until she forgets herself again and nearly breaks Ivy’s no-touching rule for the second time.

It's somewhere around 2AM, and it's a Friday. Selina’s not there and while she is growing rather fond of the other woman as well, a part of Harley is glad that she gets Ivy to herself tonight. They've already gone through the whiskey Harley had brought, and Ivy has produced a bottle of wine.

Harleen could blame it on the whiskey. Or the wine. Or the fact that she hasn't gotten laid in almost a year. But honestly, neither would be completely truthful.

She suspects it has more to do with the fact that this is the most relaxed she’s ever seen Ivy in their entire friendship and that thought warms her insides. Or the fact that Ivy is sitting the closest she ever has - so close that Harley can see the lightest dusting of freckles on her high cheekbones, and she finds them irresistible. Ivy's eyes are half-lidded and glassy, and the small, relaxed smile on her lips is entirely too enticing.

Whatever it is, it has her leaning forward, her lips inches away from the other woman's.

Ivy pulls back abruptly, and the speed with which she tears herself away from Harley feels like a punch to the gut.

Her hand is clasped to her mouth, and her eyes are wide, wider than Harley's ever seen them. She keeps shaking her head, and that sobers Harley up more than anything.

She stammers out an apology, and it's awkward, it's so awkward. The two of them sit on opposite ends of Ivy's couch.

If Harley were a braver person, more reckless, more impulsive, she would have pried. She would've asked why not? Because there had been a moment there when it seemed Ivy wanted it too. When her eyes had flitted down to Harley's mouth and her tongue had wet her own.

But she's not. Her pride keeps her from saying more, and they end the night more awkward and distant than they've ever been.

There's no fire escape visit the next night. Or the next. Or the next.

It's not that she doesn't want to be around Ivy... or maybe it is. Seeing Ivy reminds her of how foolish she'd been, and hell, being rejected hurts like a bitch.

It preys on old insecurities – of course someone as classy and smart as Ivy wouldn't want a mess like Harley. 

There’s always been something inside her, Harleen thinks, something so dark and ugly and monstrous that it makes her inherently unlovable. And all the people in her life – her mother, Daddy, her stepfather, her first best friend Jessica Stagner who had smeared her reputation at camp, her college boyfriend Jake Evans who had cheated on her. For each and every person she’s ever encountered for longer than a day – it becomes only a matter of time before they find that dark part of her, that deep putrid oil slick that threatens to pull them under unless they leave her and save themselves.

And Harleen knows – she knows – that this is just her insecurity talking. But a part of her can’t help but think that Ivy had glimpsed that dark thing, had seen the horror lurking inside her, and decided she wants no part of it. No part of Harley.

And now she’s gone and fucked up the only friendship she'd managed to create in Gotham.

The tiny little vine of poison ivy outside her window has retreated. It’s still there, which Harley was grateful to see when she woke up the next day, but instead of reaching out with its tiny tendrils toward her window, the little shoot has curled in on itself and stays wrapped around the metal rails of the fire escape. Harley gives it a forlorn spritz of water before closing her window.

From there on, there are no more calls. No hours spent talking on Ivy’s couch. No more nights on the fire escape. Instead of being surrounded by plants, Harley is surrounded by empty takeout containers. Instead of having someone to talk to, she's just staring blankly at the TV again. 

Sure, she could reach out to Ivy – it’s just one floor separating them, for fuck’s sake – but the wound to her pride still stings, and a petulant part of her decides that if Ivy doesn’t want her, then Harley’s certainly not gonna force Ivy to be with her. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.

Not that she has time to meet those other fish.

 Without the reprieve of her nights with Ivy, work begins to consume Harleen’s every waking thought, and it doesn’t help that she’s thrown herself  and everything she’s got into her work to distract herself from the loneliness.

She’s always been heavily invested in the progress of her patients, but it’s never been to this degree. And there is one particular patient that she’s determined to help. 

Harleen hasn’t given up on her efforts to rehabilitate the Joker. Far from it. 

She’s beginning to understand him, she thinks. If anyone could understand what it's like to have something dark and ugly inside yourself, it’s Harleen. That’s the key. If she can match her darkness to his, they can understand each other.

And slowly, her patience and hard work bears fruit.

One morning, Harley enters the Joker’s cell to find him  constrained once again by the straightjacket. His lip is bleeding and his head hangs limply, as if he’s dead weight and the straightjacket is the only thing holding him up. 

He looks… defeated.

Harleen approaches him and touches his shoulder gently. “Are you okay?”

A soft huff of laughter emerges under the thicket of green hair. She can’t see his face, but she knows that the bitter smile must be there. “Why are you still here, doc? Why don’t you just give up on us?”

“I’m your doctor. I’m here to help.” Harley reaches out to touch the first buckle on his straightjacket. “Besides, I’ve never been the giving up type.”

Another bitter laugh. “You’re supposed to run. When there’s a monster in front of you, you’re supposed to run.”

“I don’t see a monster here.” Hesitantly, Harley reaches out to touch his face. She tips his head upward and he follows until their eyes meet. There’s a spark in there, glimmering faintly underneath the madness. “And I don’t want to run.”

He swallows as Harleen once again undoes his straightjacket. When he’s freed, it takes the Joker a second to move, as if he’s shocked at his own freedom. Like an animal that doesn’t realize it can leave its cage.

Harleen steps back and gives him time. After a long moment, he relaxes and flexes his arms, shedding the restraints slowly. Then the Joker looks at her, really looks at her.

“You look lonely, doc.”

Harley turns away, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. She doesn’t reply.

Seconds tick by and she hears the sound of the metal chair scraping against the floor. Suddenly, there’s a presence at her back and for a moment, Harley freezes. Twenty-seven people have died at the Joker’s hand. And that’s not counting the hundreds that have died in explosions and of Joker Venom.

But he surprises her.

Lean arms encircle her and instead of a choke hold, Harley finds herself in an embrace. He’s taller than she is, and the top of her head fits perfectly under his chin as he holds her. “I understand what that’s like.”

Harley exhales, her heart twinging in her chest. One hand rises and she touches the Joker’s cold forearm.

“Thank you.”

[I’m not sure what happens next, but the next time Selina visits them, she finds Harley reeking of the Joker.]

Harley lets her into her apartment, glad to finally have a visitor. But Selina’s not there for pleasantries.

"No one here knows how special you really are, do they, Harls?" Selina circles her with a sly smile. "Oh, they've got an idea. Joker certainly does. I can smell him all over you, trying to get his claws in. And Ivy, poor Ivy. She doesn't know, but her instincts haven't failed her yet. Something inside her recognizes something in you, here." 

Selina trails a long, manicured nail down Harley's collarbone, the point of it ending right at her heart. "She won’t be able to stay away. Not when she can feel what's inside you."

Harley stiffens, and her voice trembles just the slightest bit. "What the hell are you talking about?" 

"Power, little Harley Quinn." Selina's lips curl upward, and there's a gleam in her eyes that's both irresistible and repellent. "I'm talking about the power inside you." 

Harley's eyes narrow and she backs away from Selina with an indignant scoff. "I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about. I think you should leave–" 

She crosses the room to pull the door open, but Selina's calm voice stops her. "Don't you?"

Harley freezes and she turns slowly to face the other woman. Selina is examining her nails calmly, but once she knows she has a captive audience in Harley, her eyes light up.

"You've always known about it. This thing inside you. You knew it from the first time your Dad hit your Mom, and you yelled at him to stop. And he did. He fell to the ground and had his first stroke. That was the warning shot." 

Harley stares at the other woman with wide, terrified eyes. She feels frozen to the floor as Selina recounts memories that she could not have possibly known. 

"When he did it again seven months later, you weren't so merciful, were you? You wanted him dead. And so he died. Keeled over right in front of you and your Mom. And you knew. You knew it was because you had wished it." 

Harley is paralyzed, but she has enough control of her body left to shake her head. "No... No, it was another stroke..." 

Selina hums. "That's what the doctors said when you tried to tell them. They told you it was a burst blood vessel, that it had nothing to do with an eight-year old's wish. Grown men don't drop dead because a little girl wills it."

Harley keeps shaking her head, but Selina keeps going. "You believed them. Because it was rational. Because it was easier than facing a truth that scared you. The truth of your own capabilities. You believed them, and you forgot. 

“So when it happened again, you didn't recognize it for what it was. You just loved gymnastics, and you wanted to be the best. A young girl's dream, with the talent to back it up. You won medal after medal, tournament after tournament…” 

Memories flash before Harley’s eyes as Selina ruthlessly recounts them for her. What is happening? She’s so confused. 

“Except this time, you stood in your own way. Or rather, you let your love for a selfish man stand in your way. Queen Harleen, he used to call you. He was your stepfather, and you loved him. Loved him so much that you curbed your own power. And you faltered. Just like he asked you to.”

Harley screws her eyes shut as she remembers her stepdad asking her to mess up her routine, to lose. People were coming after him and now she had to give up her dream – all because he’d lost a bet. A bet against her. She remembers the anger, the resignation, the defeat.

“He got what he deserved, didn’t he? Payback for the heartbreak he gave you. He ended up in prison three months later. And you… you went after a different dream, something a girl from your side of the tracks could never have achieved. But you did – You willed yourself into becoming a doctor. Something no one in your family, no one from your neighborhood would've expected from Harleen Quinzel." 

Harley has had enough. She cuts across Selina’s words. "Are we just gonna stand here reliving my life story? I did those things myself. I worked hard for those things–" 

"Yes, you did." Selina nods with a smile. "Don't you see, Harley? That's where your power comes from. Your will is the most powerful thing about you. Everything you wish for, everything you've ever wanted has the capacity to come true — simply because you willed it into reality. And the only time you stumbled was when you were in your own way. You chose to save your stepdad, you chose to falter. Your choice matters." 

"That's the craziest thing I've ever heard!"

"Is it? You knew the truth when you were a little girl, but you chose to believe what others told you. That it was impossible. That you were in an impossibility. And yet, you have proven again and again that you can surpass their narrow ideas of the possible.... Imagine what you could do if you were no longer limited by these things. Imagine the power you could hold..." 

Harley glares at Selina's form across her. The rest of her body is still frozen, but she can feel her fingers shaking. "Shut up." 

"The balance of life and death at your will. You could will your desire into reality, simply by wanting it—" 

"Stop it." 

"And if someone could control you – if they could make you believe that their desires were your own – then they could make you will their desires into reality. Shape the world to their liking. That's why they want you. That's why they're after you—" 

"I said, shut up!" 

Selina steps forward, but she never gets to say more. Her leg crumples under her, and her head hits the floor with a sickening crunch.

Harley exhales with a cry. Suddenly, her whole body is released from its paralysis, and she stumbles backward, away from the crumpled body at her feet. 

Selina's eyes look up at her with a blank lifeless gaze. 

Harley stumbles backward until her back hits the wall. She presses against it with a whimper, sliding down as she stares at Selina's body across from her. 

Undoubtedly dead. At Harley's hand. Just like Daddy. 

Harley wraps her arms around herself, rocking back and forth. She can hear herself make whimpering noises at the back of her throat, but she sees it all as if from afar. As if she's not in her own body, but somewhere across the room, watching herself and the dead body on the floor. Try as she might, she can't look away from Selina's blank gaze.

Which is why when she blinks, Harley sees it. 

She gasps. 

Selina blinks again. Her leg twitches. 

When the dead body of Selina Kyle begins to unfold itself from the ground, Harley screams, scuttling backward as far as she can get, pressed against the wall. Selina cracks her neck and touches the side of her head, and Harley keeps screaming.

 "You've got a set of lungs on you, huh?" 

"Oh my God!" 

Selina smiles wryly at her. "Well, I'm just one of them." 

"You - you – you were – you were de-" 

"Dead?" Selina tips her head with a mischievous smile. "It'll take more than that to kill me." 

She touches the back of her head, her fingers coming away bloody. "Pretty impressive for a first try though. You did it much quicker than Ivy. The first time she tried to kill me, it took her Venus fucking fly trap a day and a half to digest me. Don't fuck with those. Trust me."

Harley’s mouth drops open then closes.

What in the actual fuck?

[callousdegenerate]

criticism o my ga

[informal rant bc i just wanna get to breakfast]

waking up to concrit i didnt ask for and passive aggressive arguments in response with a layer of ✨ladylike✨ charm

ladies, this is a wendys

this is why i dont like responding to comments. Fueling bullshit and screaming [even politely] at people who won't change their mind is pointless.

I know plenty of people in the past who have rudely shat on my work or acted like high literary critics from their desks at home when i made it clear from the get-go that this work was a jumbled mess i was just having a ride with. i know how to write! I choose how to each time I make something new, and maybe it doesn't always work for everyone.

I am not making money off of this, im not selling a top product. im putting out a little p0rn fic on the internet for free and alone. I may not have written something they liked, and that's fine. I have always allowed people to leave the work because they stop caring or its no longer for them.

I only exist and do as I please. Things just happen around me. Obviously if you put a work out there that gains traction you're going to attract more critical or outspoken people. Ive been told i'm a bad writer, that i'm a ped0, that i'm morally bankrupt, that i should quit for what i write or how badly i write it. All things are subjective. I enjoy my creation even if it is undoubtedly flawed. I can't police people's reactions nor do I intend to. I can just silently acknowledge what i agree with and ignore what i think is unfair or unsound. I'm educated and have enough experience to swallow the bad as much as the good, but also to sort out what arguments do and don't work.

I have had people tell me to my face my writing is shit. So what? I keep going. I work on what I can. With this particular work, things are new to me. Smut, a long story, 2nd person. All experimental. This story is a passion project, but a playground sandbox too. I made that perfectly clear.

i do keep flaws in mind, yes. However, I don't intend to fix myself to suit the needs of any one person. If I did that, the story would have changed to an even worse mess each time i got a negative comment. Leave if you dislike it, stay if you don't. Quite simple.

(go see both spiderverse movies if u haven't, they're super good)

I hate having to address discourse every time it happens. Can y'all behave for like two minutes, br o

[my-insides-pink-and-glittery]

TW VENT , SUICCIIIDDDEEEE AN SHHHH MENTIONED, also halfway through i start ranting about my trauma that i plan to write a book about PLS GIVE ME TIPS ON MY WRITING

im so fucking done. every fucking time i attempt it never fucking works and whenever i talk about it everyone just laughs and takes it as a joke and they just say dumb shit like "haha again! what did u do this time, silly, oh! you tried to kill yourself? hah, the usual!" and the worst part is that is exactly what i want. dont take anything i say too seriously bc im never opening up. your the same human that called me a demon, and demons dont feel emotions, right? so as long as i make you laugh with my stupid fake ass humor, then i hope you can just laugh it off and not care when one of my attempts really do work. i hope nobody cares when i die ive already hurt enough ppl and we all know my death is for the best. im insane, i either die before 16 or im locked up forever. i shouldnt have been cutting to the fat layer of my skin, watching gore, doing things not appropriate for my age, eating things like chemicals that i know could kill me, trying to cut my vein and bleed out, getting suspended from school every week, missing half of my education because first i had to get interagated by police, then i wasnt able to come back to school for 3 months, then i got beat the shit out of of by my parents, then i had to have a 'risk assesment' which was basically just me, at the time, 9 or 10, being put in room with a bunch of child social workers, my principal and a bunch of other people who were supposedly important in making big decsions for the schools (like if it was safe for a 9 yr old child to come back to school like a normal child, or be forced 3 times a week t get on her school provided computer and listen to her teacher yell at her for not speaking. then be forced to do homework she didnt know how to do.) also, all of these men, yes, men, there wasnt a single woman, were very much taller than 9 yr old me, while they loomed over me and tried to ask very fucking personal questions. ive been in atleast 4 of those meetings, while other kids my age were playing in the playground i was lying to police and pshycologists. i was laying in my stinky ass bed, couldnt remember last time i ate, and i just waited for my sister to get home from the very same school that decided it wasnt safe to have me around their precious students. once she got home, we would talk or watch shows together. it was an endless cycle, wake up, wait, talk, maybe cut, and go back to bed. i wasnt allowed to have a phone or an ipad or anything that humans my age would normally have. i didnt even have the ability to cry. or even feel anything. pain was just a small buzzing in the back of my mind, even physical pain. now i am not going to even begin to explain the atrocities i commited to have been nearly expelled at such young age, but i need you to know that i fully deserved everthing that has happened to me so far, because this story i have wrote so far, isnt the begining nor the end. it is simply a small portain of my life, one that truly changed me forever. i genuinely believe i will never be the same again, over an event that occured years ago when i was only a little kid.

[angels-sidechick]

Tw: Vent post- no tags because seriously this is just a rant

I wrote an exam yesterday that I thought I was over prepared for, I was not. I don’t know how I managed to sit through it without crying, but I almost did.

I just wanted to stand up and leave but I would stand out to my classmates if I left early, so I forced myself to sit through it. I wrote nonsense. I feel worthless. I have another exam in about 12 hours and ive been trying to prepare but I can’t concentrate. It’s like my mind is filled with cotton and i’m drowning in air, I don’t know if that even makes sense. I hate this. I hate how I need to force myself to go through tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. It’s very difficult for me to consistently pretend like i’m not always anxious about my future and this is one of those moments when that ‘structure’ breaks down.

I wish I could pause time and just rest. I wish i was smarter. More creative. More talented. I wouldn’t need to struggle to do basic things like this so much. I wish it didn’t feel like a struggle to live, to talk to people, to make friends, even doing the things I love. It’s all meaningless and I’m trying to give it meaning but everything just erases and invalidates all the meaning i attach to my life.

Everything is more important than my identity as a human. My identity as a writer/creative is too insignificant to be considered. My identity as an academic feels forced and shallow because i’m just not as fast as everyone else, my memory is shit. It takes me ages to understand concepts that others deem simple and i just cant wrap my head around a lot of things. In short, im slow. I enjoy learning but I can no longer keep up.

I can no longer keep up with a lot of things. If i had it my way i would just write till my brain goes numb but I can’t. That’s what a failure would do, I’m told. I’ve been told as much so many times that I can’t even face the small disappointments that come with life, now imagine failing at something so significant like an examination? My university career? I can’t even fathom it. I don’t want to imagine it.

I can only hope that I manage to write everything I wish to write before it all blows up in my face, because writing is the only thing I truly care about at this point. It’s the only thing I feel I can love without consequence, betrayal or expectation. The only requirement is to do it and love doing it, and I do. Its effortless. I don’t need to think about it. I just need to feel, and I’ve never been happy in years but I feel a variety of complex emotions outside of joy. I don’t remember being truly and unapologetically happy. Even in the better moments of my life, there’s always a voice in my head reminding me not to linger, for misery always follows behind. My misery is my shadow, I don’t go anywhere without it. When there’s light before me, it’ll cling to my back as a reminder. When there’s no light, it takes the opportunity to surround and overpower me.

I’m slowly getting numb to feelings of guilt and remorse for others around me too. I’ve always felt i needed to do as much as i can to not hurt anyone around me, to not inconvenience them but nobody puts that much effort into protecting my heart. I should stop it, but thats how I was raised. To fix and help people. I don’t want to help people anymore. I want to focus on helping myself, if that’s even possible to begin with. I’ve been like this for so long that I cannot imagine myself as being anything else.

[blackvail22]

she was in my dream last night.

i havent dreamt about her in a really long time... i havent really thought about her either

it was quite odd. in real life, shes an asshole. she has the loudest voice in the room, saying something self-deprecating 90% of the time, and the other 10% is full of her talking shit about someone. in my dream, though... something makes me miss her.

she showed up at my doorstep with a bag full of stuff. it was full of all the art i made her, all of the letters i wrote her. i finally have got it back... i was always afraid that she threw them out or ruined them in a fit of rage. even though i dont really like many of my paintings, the ones i gave her, i was the most proud of them. i also made her a collage, and i even created a book-safe for her. i would spend hours at night writing letters for her, pouring out my heart and soul. when i saw all the sutff, i started crying. in the dream, i never once looked at her. the only thing i remember looking at is her long, frizzy, curly brown hair. thats all i really remember of the dream besides walking on the side of a highway and knowing how to drive (but not knowing how to park?).

anyway i love this song

on another side note, im wishhh i healed from my surgery already. im so fucking tired of my throat hurting, it hurting when i yawn (and feel weird afterwards bcos of my stitches), not being able to eat properly, not being able to talk, my ears hurting!!!!!

im so tired of complaining about this!!! i want everything yo be normal and to never need another surgery for this again but ooo ill be surprised in 9 DAYS when he tells me all about the disease i had (AND DIDNT FUCKING JNOW ABOUT)!

im exhausted. im tired. i dont want to spend another minute more than i need to in my moms room. im tired of how my dad is talking to me (makes me sick) and honestly, im losing my goddamn mind.

i dont really want to go to work anymore. my new coworker makes me dread my job now. and theres something about my recovery that makes me feel like i wont be able to go back to work when i told her i could (happens every surgery ive had, even my knee scope) and shes obviously gonna schedule me that week BUT HOW AM I GONNA CALL OFF IF SHE SCHEDULES ME 7-8 HOUR DAYS 4 DAYS IN A ROW? HOW IS SHE GONNA FIND SOMEONE TO COVER THAT????? AND IM DREADING THE PHONE CALL ILL HAVE TO MAKE ESP IF I CANT FUCKING TALK STILL (i can its just very tense and i choke on every word lmao) BECAUSE HOW AM I GONNA BE LIKE (strained) "hey! its *cough* [my name]. i *cough*--exuse me--am una- unable to come in .... for another f-*cough* few days. i cant talk.... and my doc...tor told me to rest...for a few days...." LIKE HELL THE FUCK NO

i feel like i constantly have acid in my throat. the smell of certain foods makes me sick, the smell of my moms cigarette smoke gives me a headache and nausea that doesnt go away (its 1am, my mom went to sleep at 9 and smoked before then. i still feel like i just inhaled the smoke) i have sharp pains in my side constantly, as well as the right side of my chest. I DONT FEEL GOOD AT ALL. all of my problems could be because i havent really been eating but its because i really cant? i drink water... yeah, i drink water when i remember to. (my body is probably in shock because i usually eat a lot and now im not/barely eating now LOL idek if that can happen but yeah.)

imma stop ranting now. i just wish this next week could fly by and i had a wfh job

[doggiewoggiez]

There's an experience that's super common if not universal among larger, louder, more masc transfems, that I never see talked about. It comes typically from smaller, more petite and fragile transfems, the kind who put a lot of effort into things like passing (which there's nothing wrong with, and i hate that i have to specify that for this exact reason), where they're just looking for any reason to construe something you said as problematic in some way because they don't like you personally. It could be that they feel threatened because they see you as a big dangerous man and themselves as your potential victim. It could be that you and your presentation confuse them and that makes them angry. It could just be that this is how they treat everyone they're not currently having a discord petplay rp with. I've seen it all and more. But no matter what you do or say, if you reblog a post, they'll scour OP's account to find something problematic from 2018 that you wouldn't have found unless you were really digging, if you make a joke they'll say it was offensive or in poor taste and then turn around and make the same joke to universal applause, if you talk to them at all, they'll say you've been acting creepy and they're threatened by you.

Really, if you differentiate yourself from that vocal minority of the trans community that's all programmer socks and polycules, if you express an emotion that isn't uwu or >///< or ^~^ or :3, you're branded as hateful, violent, threatening, creepy, weird, or something else that just means you're the wrong type of tranny. God forbid you don't like something for some reason other than it's whatever the fuck "problematic" means. No matter how good your behavior is, they're repulsed by you, they revile you, but they've built this identity around softness and acting like a Steven Universe character, so they can't just say that outright. They can't even admit that to themselves, because it's unfashionable and doesn't match the soft aesthetic they're going for. So they make up reasons you're a bad person and then convince themselves before trying to convince others. And when they find or make up their nail in the coffin and you're branded a "bad person" it's anyone's game, they can be as shitty to you as they want without feeling guilty.

Obviously this is the oldest trick in the book, and it's gone by a million names. Tone policing, internalized transmisogyny, chronic grass touching deficiency, paggro, weaponized fragility, what have you. Trans women universally experience this from "TME" folks (because it's unfashionable to say AFABs, even though cis women and nonbinary people and transmascs can be equally hateful and vile about this), but I think it's something far more insidious when it comes from our own community. Does it make you feel like more of a woman to punch down like the others do? Does it make them smile and nod and pretend to approve of you long enough for you to feel something? Are you just going through the motions long after the people you learned this from have given you the same treatment, stalwart in the act of deciding that anyone who makes you feel that pang of discomfort somewhere between your stomach and your chest is a Bad Person, and it's not your fault that they're always the people who don't try for your ideas of femininity and trans womanhood? Are you too afraid to admit to yourself that, no matter how many posts you reblog about how there's no right or wrong way to be a woman, you don't believe it in your heart of hearts?

I'll never understand it, and it's not something that can be talked out. It's a treatment I'd bet money just about every transfem over 6'1 or 250lbs has gotten from someone or other. It's sad, too, because there's no concise way to articulate it, and if you say anything, you're just adding fuel to the fire, and you KNOW these girls who act like this just fully buy into it. It's completely cultlike behavior imo. If you or a friend seems to be suffering from this, if you look deep at your own behavior and question it, I advise you to really work hard at unlearning that shit. If the hurt you're causing others won't convince you, maybe the hurt you're causing yourself without realizing will.

[yeoldotcom]

on ep 628473848747 of my family sucks, they got mad at me for asking for a ride somewhere

[wheresurboytonighthelookslikeenj]

Opinion on Watt's relationships with Milo Strange and Jack Walker?

who are you and why are you after my blood

theres a read more. look what youve made me do. this is a long detailed rant on why i dont like the watts plot in s15, including some good old fashioned resentment for jackwatts. proceed at your own risk

jack was really nice at first, i shipped them, i wrote a short fic or two even. of course he was bland but like the entire fandom held on to the idea that he'd eventually be developed slowly as the episodes go by right. right. idk i think it's the love of a soft and reserved and "normal" love interest for our guy whose life has been so much turmoil, so far from "normal" for so long. but we never really got good jack development did we, the most of his character being mostly made up in the fandom's heads. (ive skimmed aios, really good fic, murdoch fandom staple, like im at least somewhat cultured).

and then well it happened, ministry of virtue, everything goes to shit, their relationship has hardly been anything onscreen and now its over and i lose my mind because i'd been so hopeful. like i didn't sleep well that night because Murdoch Mysteries Is A Show. in a vacuum the whole marriage thing was an interesting way for the plot to go, jack bringing up how watts's profession clashed with so many other parts of his life was really good and i fucking love it, but hardly of it was built up to or worth it and before during and afterwards it never got the attention, screentime, etc, it deserved. dear god. and then they got back together but then next season jack's kind of a jerk now? much of it is warranted because of the awful things hes been through but "some things are worth the risk" had been such a staple line for him and their relationship and it was just. not romantic anymore. and importantly watts wasn't happy anymore. and it was just such a weird direction for the writers to take the ship.

also there was the funnies with the well lit kisses lmao and then milo strange happened?????? god i love milo i think theyre very funky and lovely and the weirdest character the show's made technical-wise because he kinda doesn't need to exist and the fact that he does ends up as just an insult to watts's story, milo the character, and his actor. like. ok. we have an issue: wonderbread barbie prince ass white boy jack walker being boring and now being too afraid to be out with watts. how does the show seem to try to fix it? flamboyant polyamorous black poet named milo strange who's as out and proud as you can be in edwardian toronto without getting arrested or killed. he's devastatingly lovable because of his whimsy and opinions and how easily they make watts smile and even laugh. not the most characterization but somehow more remarkable than jack ever was, at least before ministry of virtue. he and watts were very nice together and though i don't ship it much anymore because the show hates me i still have an ongoing fic with them but thats mostly just because i'm slow and forgetful.

anyways. then we get into the really bad shit. like. um. jack's wife dies. and this shit sent me off the edge like. this show is so bad? fridging the wife is like one of the first things people tell you not to do when they teach you how to Not Write Like A Misogynist/An Idiot In General? dude??? watts and jack fight about it and its devastating but you kinda knew the relationship was going there after all this. and then jack kidnaps the baby and escapes to greenwich and i was happy because the writers committed a misogyny but at the very very very least jack walker is gone and i am free from this stupid hatecrimes plotline.

right????

right???????

BUT NOOOOOOO like now we get into how watts himself was at his worst in season 15. like daniel maslany's acting is always so good but his writing. was bad. at the beginning he was not the best at communicating, letting his problems (the love triangle) be solved for him instead without any effort from him--like. this point has been hammered into the ground recently but love triangles if done well could symbolize for different values different choices that one can make right? like the famous one is the hunger games agressive gale vs softer peeta but like even the george-nina-louise triangle was a better example, like george made an active choice to go back to nina because despite louise being a more proper partner with similar values in wanting to settle down some day george chose nina's loyalty and kindness. but with watts? idk hes just really confused and i know watts has the personal emotional skills of a potato but narratively it sucks. because he doesnt make a decision. the decision is made for him when jack's wife is killed by her ex. what was the point? why couldn't they have made him at least a bit more active in all of it?

ohoho but it gets worse. because the plotline's not even done yet we still have half a season. watts spends time with milo and they're very sweet but watts comes to the realization that milo is polyamorous. like. milo has talked about this before. they make it pretty clear. and maybe it's my own brainworms, believing watts would have been more open or at least more understanding to it because of his open nature, but watts gets frustrated, he tries to convince him to change, he calls milo greedy. like hey man that may not be your thing but thats so uncalled for. and is that not out of character? watts, who has always been so sympathetic and understanding, especially for those who are different? even under all the duress. i dont know. it might be more reasonable in other interpretations. the worst part is that he never properly apologizes. but we'll get to that.

and they continue to stay together in some sort of limbo until the end of the season and watts gets shot. and watts goes through this shit every tuesday but that mustve been a lot for milo to go through in a minute. and watts gets back up like nothing happens and milo later expresses that he's willing to change his lifestyle, willing to become monogamous for watts. thats. thats not a light statement. but fucking guess what watts receives a letter from jack???? and i guess theres a lot of apologizing and sappy stuff in the letter but we never see or hear the contents so all we have to process for now is that watts once again is letting his problems being solved for him? like as a character it sucks that it takes all these conveniences to switch him around to choose and narratively all these conveniences are bad in the first place. ugh. he tells milo to not change who he is and embarks for new york. and we. we never see milo again. and i am going to set something on fire.

and the thing is after the season premiere's homophobia of the season watts's conclusion is really good, like ive talked about it before him quitting the force and leaving to find himself was such a satisfying decision after all his moral and emotional turmoil! and i'm hopeful that jack is not coming back. but.

milo was done. so dirty. because we're back at the point about watts's arc. because regardless of the way you see it it's shitty. if jack was always his first choice and milo was only a rebound he didn't care as much for, not only is that just. bad taste. but its also shitty to milo, watts seeming to be so keen on being together but only on his terms then ditching at the first chance of being back with his old boytoy; not only is it a shitty thing for watts to do but in writing a character it's stupid. and if watts actually did care for milo and genuinely want to be with him, only to go back is even more confusing and again begs the question of the point of it all. why was milo introduced? why did you get us invested in a relationship that went nowhere and can be cut? watts and jack couldve still split, all homophobia and misogyny and kidnapping intact, and watts could have still come to his conclusion that he needed to be on his own, but instead of the polyam hate we couldve just had him wandering off on his own for half a season instead, and when he received the letter and went back to jack he couldve realized that hey. i was actually feeling good by myself, like i was going somewhere by myself. or something. i don't know. i love where watts's character is at currently but i hate how he got there.

and it's utterly devastating because milo was a lovable character! they were so fun! but he was doomed from the start and it's fucking awful. it never amounted to anything. his own little arc wasnt even allowed to finish properly, while jack's technically was? we never get a conclusion to milo strange but we know that jack's still doing ok with the baby in greenwich after brackenreid ended homophobia there ig /j

anyways. in conclusion i dont ship either anymore but at least i still like millewellyn because i resent jackwatts for what it represents

[wizkiddx]

without making this a sap story ive had some not so great news from home and am in one of them moods to not talk abt it. but i need a tom h to hug me , pls could u write something like that?

hey anon - i am sending u all my love, and hope things get a little easier for u as soon as possible. if u ever do wanna chat abt nothing or rant just send me a pm x  I hope this is at least somewhat what u were looking for <33

summary: life is sometimes not good, but your fave boy makes it just a little easier to deal with (with some original help from his brother too)

a bit angsty but i promise mainly fluff (and a popcorn fight?)

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

What drew you out of the sort-of-trance was a two soft but firm knocks at the door - well Tom’s bedroom door. You’d been relaxing with him and Harry, watching the new ‘Line of Duty’ when your mum had called for the daily catch up. Admittedly, she had already tried to call you twice today but somehow you’d managed to miss both of them. On reflection, possible not that shocking because you’d been at a charity golf day with the boys which involved a fair amount of noise, chat and competition. 

Thankfully the boys had both done pretty well, Tom coming slightly ahead but that was the norm between the two. It meant they were both happily basking in their relative victories and not moody and grumpy like they are oh so often when things go wrong. Because to them, against your pleading, begging and sometimes lecturing…. golf was not just a game.  

You and your mum had always been very close, so usually speaking to her was uplifting and made you feel a little bit more complete - what with travelling with Tom for work, her voice was a slice of home. This time though, it was not so much the case. It was just sad news about your home town. Nothing directly to your family or close friends but still, it makes you feel generally down. 

Who knows how long it’d been since you’d hung up on the phone, just staring at the wall opposite. Everything felt just hollow and empty, lacking in meaning somewhat. You weren’t necessarily thinking, more like devoid of emotion, of thoughts, of anything. Just a bit cold. 

“Y/n…Y/n?” His voice sounded hesitant, as though scared he was interrupting your call. When you didn’t respond, the door cracked open and his fluffy head poked in, not that you noticed - your brain was still half absent. Tom on the other hand, was instantly looking you up and down, very much confused as the why you looked so rigid and not present. Noticing the phone was lying quiet on the bed in front of you, he felt safe to enter. He made a beeline for the bed, perching himself down on the edge, in-front of you - so he was blocking your fascinating view of the grey wall opposite. 

“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” His voice was soft and gravely, choosing not to put much energy into his vocal box as he rubbed up and down one of your arms. 

“Hmmm? Sorry, was miles away.”

“Could tell darl.” As he chuckled his eyes crinkled round the outside. “How was your mum?”

“Yeh…um okay, I-I guess.” As much as you wanted to shake yourself out of it, it just wasn’t that easy. Everything was laced with this underlying chilliness. 

“You sure? You dont really sound it?” 

“No, I um…well I’m not sure. I think I’m okay?”

“What happened?” You shook your head in response, making Tom press his lips together with a small nod. “ Don’t wanna talk about it huh?” 

“Not… not right now. Please?” 

With a permitting nod, Tom stood up and squeezed your hand, urging you to follow. Trailing behind him into the living room, he then instructed you to take a seat on the sofa adjacent to Harry, Tom himself disappearing back into the house. It made you pout a little, you wanted him to just look after you a little this evening but that self pity wasn’t allowed to last long - because a piece of popcorn flew into your cheek. You whipped your head around, with mouth open feigning shock, to see Harry smirking at you cradling a bowl full of other possible missiles in hand. 

“And what was that for?” He shrugged his shoulders, turning his head back to the TV.

“You looked sad.”

“…” Your mouth was open, no words coming out though, as you looked at the frizzy haired boy in bemusement. Sometimes you thought you understood how his head worked but at other points, the boy was a bloody mystery. Instead of explaining his thought process (because there almost certainly wasn’t one), he just smiled evily at you - wiggling his brows. And I know you know what that meant.

Sure enough by the time Tom reentered the room, arms full with different objects he’d collected round the house, the floor had been littered with popcorn kernels. You and Harry were squealing at each other as handfuls of the snack were catapulted vaguely at each other as you chased him round the room. It took Tom shouting at the both of you for you to freeze, slowly lowering your hands in ceasefire with a giggle. 

“I leave you alone for two minutes.”

“ It was his fault!” You protested, causing a 5 minute of ‘ he said-she said’ between the two of you, even if Tom wasn’t listening to the bickering. Instead, he quickly whizzed round the room picking up all the obvious popcorn bits and then spread out all the blankets he’d got from round the rented house on the sofa.

 You knew Harry, in his very own and special way, was only doing all this to cheer you up and you couldn’t appreciate it more. Your relationship with him had recently got so much closer, thanks to Tom being busy on set actually filming - while you and Harry just had some quality ‘almost sibling’ times. And now living with him too - naturally he had grown to know your tells almost as well as Tom. 

“Alright children calm down… thought we could watch movie?” Plopping himself down on the cream seat, Tom made grabby hands to you which of course you had to comply with. 

“I’ll um… I’m gonna leave you to- well to the being in love shit. It’ll make me chunder”

“We love you too bro” Tom called to Harry, who was already on his way out - but the tone of gratefulness in his voice was evident, he appreciated Harry noticing that the two of you could do with time together. 

“Don’t make it weird!” Harry’s response had you sniggering, as you pulled the fluffiest blanket over both you and Tom and nestling into his side. 

After a few minutes of Tom pretending to argue with you about film choice, before ultimately agreeing with your choice of ‘La la land’ as he always planned on letting you. The Holland boys were both very talented at subtly being a shoulder if needed, and yes you knew it was all an act - but you weren’t about to call him out. About halfway through he kissed the crown of your head and murmured. “Can tell you’re not watching darling.” He wasn’t wrong to be fair. Yes, you were looking at the screen - but your mind was far away from the plot line. 

“Sorry I um… minds like a runaway train sometimes.” Tom released a breathy chuckle at that before murmuring a ‘come ‘ere’ to you as he all but lifted you up from sitting by his side. You ended up lying almost onto of him, with both of Tom’s strong arms holding you tightly to him. Smiling into his chest, you nestled closer so the soundtrack to the movie played over the top of his constant thudding heartbeat. It took a few moments of you both just staring into the screen, completely contented for Tom to speak, squeezing you slightly tighter whilst the two of you watched Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone twirling on the road.

“I gotchu now lovie” 

And you swore then that all the thoughts racing in your mind were outpaced by those of a different kind. Still intense ideas, ones that buzzed round your brain, but these were happy. Thoughts of ‘how could I be so lucky’ and ‘I love this man with my whole heart’. 

Apparently these thoughts were also a comfort because when Tom looked down at you after what must’ve been at least half an hour, you were spark out. Breathing deep and unchanging, eye locked shut and mouth slightly squashed against his chest so your lips were pressed together. But what made the boy physical pout was the way you relaxed hand was loosely balled round a fistful of his purple hoodie. As if you were clutching at him to keep him as close to you as possible. 

He felt so grateful - not only for you, but also for the fact that he had the ability to make it a little better. You didn’t need him - Tom swore you were one of the most fiercely independent people he’d ever met - yet it was clear you wanted him. You wanted him when you felt down, the same way you wanted to be around him when you were overly hyper and chatting pure rubbish. You didn’t want him because he was the ‘Tom Holland’ you wanted him because he was Tom. 

He couldn’t fix what was going on back at your home (I mean right now, he still didnt even know what was going on). But he did know how to make everything just a little less shit. He knew how to be your person. 

And that would forever be job Tom was most proud of.

once again sending u all lots of love (esp u anon 💕)

would love to know what u guys think if ya made it this far ;)

tagging (link to join) : @hallecarey1 @hollandfanficlove

[blxetsi]

Hi there! I love your work!! So I know this sounds a little niche but, could we get headcanons for a reader in a polyamorous relationship with Hange and Miche please? Hope you’re having a really good day!

NO BEXAUSE IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEINE TO REQUEST POLYAMOROUS STUFF OMGGGGG 😭 ty for your service anon it means a lot 😔🙏

hange and mike dating headcanons (canonverse)

zoë hange x gn!reader x mike zacharias

warnings: polyamorous relationship, and titans ??, reader is kinda innocent ?? like just easily wound up

also this is going to be SO fucking long and focused on hange for the first long bit sorry !

btw this isnt rlly dating headcanons so much as backstory, how you met, and shit leading up to actually getting together i went so fucking overboard and went the complete opposite way of what you asked ill do a part two with ACTUAL dating headcanons if youd like anon just tell me and ill do it

- i think you wouldve worked for garrison originally

- in season one when hange started the experiments on sawney and bean thats when you would've met them

- you had been a big fan of their research studies for a while, so being in front of someone you thought was so cool was a little nerve wracking

- you had just became newly appointed as a captain for a garrison squad, being one of the youngest recruits to get the position, which also meant some people thought you couldnt handle the job

- you were good at telling others what to do, and guiding them when needed, you took over the leader role very quickly, you had to if you wanted to keep the position

- although you thought you were a good leader, others didnt

- specifically older members of garrison who thought because you were so young, youd be naive

- and since you were a garrison captain, you worked closely with hange and moblit during their experiments

- any request they made for supplies or anything, went through you and youd get it for them

- they needed more help ? youre requesting three soldiers to the experimentation zone immediately. anything they needed you helped with, because you liked helping

- hange had quickly grown fond of you, they were so thankful that you were so willingly to have your squad help them. you remember the brunette grabbing your hand and saying "thank you for your dedication to this project and to science !" while bowing multiple times

- as unsanitary and childish as it was,,, you didnt wash that hand for a day

- hange saw how some members of your squad treated you, and it may have irked them a bit

- causing them to rant to moblit while writing down research data

- "hange." "i just dont get it, why dont they say anything ? theyre so nice so why dont people respect them like they should-" "hange !" "what ?!" "youre writing down captain l/n's name on your page !" "so what ?!- wait what" this causes a night of bickering between the two of them 😐🤚

- when sawney and bean died hange was devastated. you had grown to like the section commander as a friend and respected them greatly, so to see their hardwork and research all go down the drain was hard

- you immediately went into leader mode and started ordering your squad around "listen up ! i want this whole perimeter checked and searched for any evidence to help us find out who did this." a couple members groaned, and one man, who was in his early thirties made a comment about it. "theyre just stupid fucking titans. we're supposed to kill them, not keep them alive for some freak to experiment on them."

- yknow,, looking back on it maybe you shouldnt have went off on them the way you did, but you did because not only was the man questioning your authority and orders, he was blatantly disrespecting a section commander. "i am your captain. i am your leader. you will respect me, and you will listen to me. you either do i say or youll be suspended and taken off my squad immediately. and that goes for everyone ! do i make myself clear ?" you shouted. the man who had talked back raised his eyebrows, youd never once yelled or demanded things be done in a manner like this, and it clearly shocked him when you stood up for yourself.

- a bunch of murmurs came from your squad and you dismissed them, but not before stepping in front of your soldier in front of everyone. "between you and me ? you should be discharged for not only your blatant disrespect and defiance to me for months now, but also for your innapropriate and degrading comments about section commander hange. you wanna pull some shit like this in the future, not just to me but to anybody ? you should kiss your position in garrison squad goodbye, since youre too childish to keep your thoughts and opinions to yourself. now grow the fuck up and go do what ive asked please." the man looked scared as he stared at you, no one had seen you act like this before, his jaw clenched as he nodded and walked off, the rest of your squad dispersing with him

- you didnt notice hange calling your name until you felt their hand on your shoulder. you turned around and saw their sympathetic gaze on you. "thank you for defending me. are you okay ?"

- you rubbed the back of your neck and answered. "honestly ? i feel kind of bad, like i embarassed him or something." the survey corps leader tilted their head back as they laughed. "youre so kind y/n, but im proud of you." the comment, although lighthearted, struck a cord with you

- a couple days later you were requested to meet with not only the section commander but commander smith, as well as your superior, dot pixis

- the meeting only lasted about thirty minutes, but hange had boasted about not only your leadership skills but also your knowledge and ideas on various sciences. erwin decided to offer you a position to work under hange, and dot pixis agreed to have you transferred to the survey corps if you agreed.

- did your decision have to do with your crush on hange ? maybe. would you ever admit it ? no.

- pixis explained to you that youd be honorably disharged from the garrison regiment before being moved to the scouts' headquarters in trost

- you surprisingly got along well with others there. working in hanges squad was fun, and even though you were demoted from a captain back to a cadet you didnt mind

- hange had offered to share as much knowledge as they could with you, which led you to be in their office (as messy as it was) after work hours

- and thats where you met mike

- well, got to know him

- hange introduced you two when you first joined and the first thing the section commander did was NOT shake the hand you held out for him but to lean down and sniff around your hair and neck

- your face felt hot as you stuttered over your words, thrown off by his,,, unique, greeting

- hange and laughed and lightly pushed him away, before explaining to you that thats just what mike did

- back to being in hanges office

- for nights on end youd stay up together in their office, two chairs huddled beside one another while you read through books of research, not just from hange but from published scientists and anthropologists too

- mike had started joining you two only three days after you and hange started

- he would stay quiet, but would sit next to hange making them be sandwiched by the two of you

- after that you started to notice him more often

- down the halls he'd send you a small smile, which you brightly returned

- sometimes he'd be in charge of training that day, and he would wordlessly help you position your arms to properly block or punch when sparring with other members

- then he started bringing tea when he would come and listen to you and hange discuss different theories, articles and information together

- you didnt even know the two were dating until you accidentally walked in on them in hange's office

- they werent doing anything dirty, just giving each other a kiss, but you had walked in on them with a stack of papers captain levi told you to give to hange.

- you kinda,, stood there, slackjawed, while the two pulled apart slowly to look at you. hange had a mischievous grin on their face while mike just gave you a blank stare

- you dropped the papers. the stack of documents levi tasked you to give to hange. you dropped them. How Embarassing.

- your face began to feel hot not just from seeing them but also because youre embarassing yourself by dropping the papers and just standing there like an IDIOT

- "uh,,, i- captain levi said to give you those documents you requested." your voice cracked at the end making you wince

- "you mean the documents that are spread out on my floor now ?" hange asked. you looked between them and the floor, then at mike, then back to the floor than back at hange. "yes." you said, and you could feel that warmth in your face spreading to your ears now too. "im sorry." you exclaimed, your voice sounding strained as you quickly walked backwords and closed the door in front of you

- you started avoiding hange and mike after that, and became hyper aware of everything that they did. they were TAUNTING YOU 🙄 you could feel it

- instead of small smiles in the halls, after you started ducking your head down when you saw mike, he would now give you head pats when you crossed him

- hange would let their hand linger on your shoulder or side as they shuffled past you during meetings or experiments, and would come closer than usual when handing you documents

- mike would give you teasing smiles when you got your ass handed to you during sparring

- and finally you were fed up ! did this count as workplace harassment ? you didnt know but you wanted answers ! so you went to the source, hange's room after dinner

- you didnt bother knocking, you just walked in with your eyes closed

- hange giggled, "what are you doing y/n ?" "making sure im not walking into something i shouldnt be seeing, section commander." "by that do you mean the kiss mike and i shared ?" "yes." "well we're not kissing right now." they said, and you peaked one eye open to be sure they werent lying, and they werent !

mike stood up from his chair and slowly made his way past you, closing the door. you took a deep breath before throwing all of your word vomit on blond and brunette duo. "so i dont know why you guys think teasing me like this is fun, but it isnt. it makes me flustered and nervous and feel weird and im not sure if it counts as abuse of power but i dont like it so it needs to stop." you huffed in a big breath of air after saying all of that, and hange rested their head in their hands.

"y/n do you have a crush on me ?" they asked. their voice was soft but they still had that stupid smile on their face. you could feel your face getting warmer by the second. your mouth opened and closed but no words came out.

" i uh, im gonna leave now." you turned around but hit something hard, and looked up at mike looking down on you, a smirk on his face. he put his hands on your shoulders and turned you back around to hange, walking the two of you over to their desk. he gave you a slight push, causing you to put your hands on the desk and lean on it, while mike kept his hands on you to keep you from running.

hange leaned into you, your noses barely touching. "i only ask because, mike and i have grown very fond of you." they said. you nodded a little bit, the tips of your noses brushing against each other.

"yeah well, id be a little sad if my superiors didnt like me, that would be kind of bad." you replied.

"can i kiss you ?" they asked.

and now is when your brain really stops functioning. thoughts fill your mind of mike and his relationship to hange. are they actually together or is it a friends with benefits kind of thing ?

"i uh, i cant kiss you." you replied, a bit breathlessly caused by both section commanders.

"why not y/n ?"

"well i'm not a cheater, or a homewrecker. i mean i assume that you and mike are together so, im not going to kiss someone in a relationship." you stammered out. this was making you very nervous, butterflies errupting in your stomach. you knew they were just teasing you, goofing around to make you flustered, but a part of you hoped youd be able to kiss hange, and maybe mike for that matter.

they chuckled a bit, before their brown eyes looking behind you to mike's towering form. "honey, can you tell y/n its okay if they kiss me ?" they asked. mike let out a small laugh through his nose before leaning down.

"only if y/n promises to give me a kiss afterwards." he whispered. he pressed a faint kiss to your temple, and you shivered from the contact. he was warm, very warm, and even though it was such a small amount of contact it did so many things to you.

you gulped before bringing your eyes back to hange. you looked to their eyes, and then to their lips, and continued that pattern silently in hopes theyd understand. you didnt want to be teased anymore ! you wanted something to happen.

hange got the hint and smirked, before leaning in again and lightly brushing her lips against yours. theirs were soft compared to mikes chapped ones, and the kiss was so slow, so innocent, it had you leaning in for more. it was a slow, lazy kiss, a kiss to test the waters, it helped calm your nerves, but also made your nerved explode with heat.

finally the researched pulled away, and put their hands on your cheeks, squishing them to pucker your lips, before giving a kiss to your forehead, nose and lips one last time. they let go with a soft smile on their face, and a blush of their own.

you could feel mike press his body down against yours, making your knees buckle slightly. he took his right hand off your shoulder to place it on hange's cheek, thumbing over the red pigmentation. he then turned your head up and to the side, before giving you a kiss of his own. this one was a bit more dominating, hard. his chapped lips scratched against your own but you didnt mind. in a weird way it made you feel at ease, having him take control of it, the same way hange did but his was just more, needy.

he pulled back with a shaky breath and looked at you before looking at hange. "so y/n," hange began. they stood up and made their way around the table, mike pulling himself and you up straight so hange could sit on the edge, pulling you in to stand between their legs. being sandwiched in between mike and hange made you so aware of them, and even though you were very new to something like this you felt weirdly safe and secure. "mike and i genuinely care about you, and we want to be with you the way that we're with each other. would you like that ?"

honestly, how could you say no ?

thats it again im sorry the anon who requested this you did not get what you asked for 😭😭😭😭 hope u all enjoyed requests r open stay safe

[tomas-adriah]

i am once again thinking about post time skip haikyuu and how the series ended. i think so much of the series was how hinata overcome a lot of his insecurities in regards to volleyball; the passion and tackling burn out in regards to the sport as well as stating how volleyball can be “fun.” the ending of haikyuu, especially , beach volleyball, and post time skip is what got me into haikyuu. and yes. this meant i only had picked up the series very recently, at 2020-2021.

for reasons i can elaborate more later on: i didnt pick up haikyuu when it first published in 2012 because i had quit volleyball by then. i wanted nothing to do with the sport and i was eager to find myself outside of the sport and other passions i had always wanted to pick uo but couldn‘t because of volleyball. and yes this meant that i had avoided the sport for almost a decade.

ok maybe not completely avoided. i enjoy watching beach volleyball by the time rio olympics had rolled around the corner...and this is mostly since when i played indoor, we would play beach volleyball as thats a great way of learning what my coach, team, and i would consider “real volleyball.“ see where im going with this? the beach volleyball arc had me picking up haikyuu as a series…and eventually had me backtracking and reading kamomedai and a portion of the beginning of the series.

which leads me to a couple of things:

- i have a different perspective from one who had followed the series. (we all do, but considering that i have a past with volleyball where i avoided it for the duration of the manga’s serialization, and only really read the last few arcs of the series, i have a different approach towards the series and why i thoroughly enjoyed it, especially the ending).

- and yes i thoroughly enjoyed the ending of the series. it not only got me picking up the sport and actually…dare i say it…go back to indoors matches im…SHIT thats scary lol especially after a fucking decade of absolutely not wanting to…but i also got me loving the series ending from a literature/writing perspective? and its so fuckinf wild since i had always associated writing/reading and volleyball/sports SEPARATELY.

- so my mind is a bit jumbled. like i can understand people’s dislike of the kamomedai match as well as the mix reaction to post time skip. so lets address some of this:

POST TIME SKIP, SKIPPING OVER ARCS, AND SOME GAPS IN THE LITERATURE

ugh i seriously need to stop reading science research papers as i cant believe im using the term “gaps in the literature“ but please bear with me T^T

one of the main complaints of post time skip is the fact that furudate skipped over possible rematches (ie: inarizaki v karasuno, etc.), didnt go into detail of some character’s arcs (yamaguchi captain or ennoshita captain had me robbed ok i feel that 😭), or the overall journey and content of out fav first years and their eventual destination as third years going further into finals.

and as much as i would love to see that and wouldnt mind reading that in a light novel (so if furudate youre seeing this and willing to revisit haikyuu, i’d love to and will totally support), i just never thought theyd go over this part of their journeys? like even when i had initially heard of the manga at 2012, i didnt really think about whether they made it to finals. i didnt think about winning. i thought about their play style and dynamics. then i saw that their focus was more attack-oriented and lost interest.

because being attack-oriented isnt as fun as one would originally think, since rallies are what makes volleyball really fun.

in other words, i thought about how this series would make that come alive. how can this series emulate that sense of fun?

and ive thinking so much about how the last arcs really connects with that of the beginning, with some caveat. at the beginning obviously there was some conflict w hinata and his middle blocker position, his dynamic w a genius setter, his height - as it all are barriers to him fully enjoying volleyball. and initially it had been wanting to be an ace and winning games as his solution. but then…hinata grew as a character. and not only hinata, but those around him were very much affected by hinata’s journey with volleyball. and so, by the time we got to the later half of the series (karasuno v nekoma, kamomedai v karasuno), we get to see furudate’s message about passion, burn out, and having fun playing volleyball. having that passion for volleyball and choosing to play it, to make a living out of it, is eventually what makes a monster. i would even argue that those who see volleyball and inspire others to show that volleyball is fun, is also a monster…

this is a really long winded rant/observation thats not quite fully formed into coherency or completion, but i just needed to get this OUT and im tired of losing all my drafts and loose paper of these thought process so instead in publishing this impulsively lol.

will probs finish this later on or add more to it later…

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

from an anon, about parents and school

(it's just long, that's why it's under a break XD)

here's my proposition: make parents understand that not every child should conform to whatever traditional career paths that exist. as an asian, i could feel the pressure to take science like a fucking boulder on my body. i have to rant a bit.

i am the younger sibling, my brother is two years elder to me. i was never instilled any curiosity in anything science related, i was kinda left all by myself lol. my brother tho, maybe because he was older or because he was a guy (yeah LMFAO), was encouraged AND involved in a LOT of coding, mechanix (its a construct-ur-own-stuff thing).

i guess i never really noticed until i was leaving middle school, that i was not as smart as him, and would probably never be. but i had other strengths he didnt have. i love writing, im pretty good at it. i am analytical and subejctive, i like thinking and making conclusions about things. i mean i guess i've figured out what i could be better at, right? but the problem?

its that my parents dont see it. its as if they dont know me or they DO know me and are just forcing the things they need onto me. it feels selfish of them to completely forgo my actual strengths. like YES OK i UNDERSTAND i can never be as smart as my brother, but u dont have to pretend like i can. because pretending that i can achieve whatever he has, is just going to affect YOU. because i have accepted long ago that some things arent for me.

they think i dont want to put effort into anything i do. that im lazy and want the easy way out. god, every time they say this i want to honestly show them that its the things IM interested in, where i put in the work. its so belittling.

ive written articles abt bts, their music, about how carl jungs theory of archetypes and i occasionally ask a lot of questions about the world to you (hi lol). i just dont get why they want me to waste energy on something im clearly uninterested in.

short answer, point to BTS and say, "They're Asian, they make tons of money. Leave me alone."

just kidding XD

If I'm being serious, I don't think they will change their mind. They will continue to force their ideals onto you, because they believe in certain career paths had assured success and that is what they are after. They either want you to make a certain amount of money, have a certain status in life, or simply know that you can obtain a stable job. To be honest, these are not really traditional career paths at all if you think about it. Becoming a doctor takes many, many years and it is hard ass work. Parents just make it seem as if these are the only jobs available to you, even if you know it's not true.

Men vs women in Asian countries, well, I feel everyone knows this, but many Asian parents born in their respective countries put more effort into their sons than daughters. Firstborn son? He probably walks on water to them XD

I understand what you mean when you say your parents do not understand. This might sound egotistical (it does now that I'm writing it, I am very sorry) but I was the one in my family who got the best grades. None of my siblings got better grades than me (basically I had a 4.0 from middle school to university), and do you think with all that I would be immune?

Nope.

I am good at the sciences and I am good at the humanities as well. I had an interest in reading, writing, and drawing. Reading fiction, I could pass it off to educate myself. Writing? I could pass it off as something for school. But drawing?

Woo, boy.

This was a constant fight. I do not back down (a rebel, wcyd) and I drew and it would get ripped apart. I drew and it would get torn up and thrown away. I drew and and would be beaten, yelled at, constantly belittled for my interest in it even though I was good at the sciences and math. To my mom (my dad doesn't count, he had zero interest in parenting) - if she did not think it was going to make money in the future, it was useless. If I could not spin it into profit, I should not be doing it (very fun childhood I had, yes). The most ironic thing is, after I became an adult, she suggested I start drawing again and sell it to make money.

Hello?

You literally forced me to stop drawing because you constantly connected it with negativity???

(not now, I have since stopped talking to her and started drawing again and it is purely for myself, not to show anyone else, I do not even post it on social media or show anyone irl)

Not saying your parents will act like mine, btw, only sharing my experience.

The idea that you'll never be as smart as your brother? That's bullshit lol. That's like saying intelligence is only valuable if it's science or math, which, as you know, is not true. You are you. He is himself. It is not you cannot do those things. It is that those things are not what you want to focus on. You have a limited amount of time in this life and you have chosen the things you want to delve into and explore.

You don't have to be good at everything. Everything is just not good enough for you.

I am of the mindset that you should try and learn everything you can about this world. I love learning, personally. I think knowing everything I know, from the humanities to the sciences, enriches my life and gives me a broader perspective.

But I totally understand how you feel, because being pushed into something makes you end up hating it. Parents push their kids to learn this or that and kids end up resenting schoolwork because it doesn't feel like something they wanna do anymore. It's just adults yapping in their ears and it feels pointless. Grades aren't everything. You think anyone cares that I aced Physics with Calculus I and II as an adult? LMAO, no one gives a shit. You passed, good enough XD

Here's how I think you should treat school. It's not the content that matters. It's you understanding how you learn each subject. Every subject is different and how you learn them is different. It is not because you are bad at the subject, it is because you haven't figured out the best learning style for you. Teachers have to teach a mass of students and, yes, I understand this seems very tedious to have to "teach yourself".

The skill in learning to learn becomes so, so valuable as an adult. It is how you maintain interest in things, how you develop new interests, and how will come to find meaning (in whatever you want to focus on finding meaning for). I'm not saying that you will be able to find your perfect learning style in every subject, but I am encouraging you to simply see it in that light.

And, you might find certain things to be not that important to you, in which case, just pass the class, it's totally fine if it's not going to help you for the career path you're going for XD Nobody asks me about the themes of William Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet" (tbh, a pair of overdramatic loons) or how I feel about Sigmund Freud (actually a twat, but that's neither here nor there).

Let them talk. That one that walks your path is you. Focus on what you want to focus on. They are set in their ways and they way to show them there are different paths is to walk them.

[seijch]

ANNOUNCEMENT: NOT A HELLO, BUT NOT A GOODBYE EITHER

omg hi ... im like . ashamed to come back after saying brief hiatus in october and then disappearing off the face of the earth til FEBRUARY but under the cut i will be explaining myself and the following, if youre interested (and a tl;dr at the very bottom if you don’t wanna scroll thru this obnoxiously long post):

the reason(s) i was gone for so long

what i was doing during that time (its just a personal account yall can scroll past this idrc)

the status of those um . halloween requests

the future of this account

i. so . Hiatus .

i know. i know . i probably mentioned it when i made the announcement post, but my mental health likes to go on one of those rides. yknow the ones where you go like up rlly fast then down maybe and then up then DOWN .... its like that. i needed a break and every time i wanted to come back or thought about it, something would happen and i would get stuck in my own head.

a big reason for getting stuck in my head was (and i hate to admit this ... i hate to admit that i have Insecurities On The Internet) my feelings of inadequacy regarding my writing. i love to plot fics, i love concepts and characters and making little headcanons but i dont ... know if i love writing rn. and i thought for the longest time that like . whatever ill just push thru it its fine ill be fine but it kinda wasnt lmao you can kinda see it in my halloween reqs and what become of them when i get to that but i began to feel like nothing i had put out or would put out would hold up prose wise (and normally i dont feel like this im much more “idc its my life im living it” but thats not a rant for tumblr LMAO). i still feel like that -- like im better as a reader than a writer. but . You Know :-)

tl;dr: mental state go brrrrr

ii. anywhere here’s wonderwall

when i left, i was in a steadily decreasing mental and emotional state, made worse by a situation at work that really was a case of petty jealousy on my end and rlly isnt very consequential now despite how much pain and resentment it gave me when it Was a problem so i wont get into it. the tl;dr of november and december was me using work as an crutch and distraction -- i know my job, i do it well, it helped me not think about my responsibilities and obligations and inadequacies. of course, as the holiday season grew busier n busier i was scheduled so often that i moved 88 or so miles (according to my apple watch, which i ONLY wear at work since im never anywhere else outside my house) and fell into a cycle of showering n sleeping at my house before going back the next day. (theres definitely something to be said abt capitalism and “grind culture” here but once again its not the time or place snsjkdfds)

at the turn of the new year, i happened to remember a birthday card i hadnt filed away for safekeeping from a friend of mine that id been horribly out of touch with til that point. i started crying because i realized how out of touch id been in general up until that point. the month of january was great for me: i was focused, happy, and in a much better place than i had been before. the end of it brought me down focus wise and im hoping that enough time away from my distractions will refocus me bc i ... need it LMAO and though ive burned out from that level of productivity and gotten distracted again im ... trying to stay positive which i think is the most i can do 😁👍🏼

media wise, i got real into stardew valley (but burned out bc i played it extensively as a way to wind down after work), the pokemon platinum romhack renegade platinum (still havent finished it bc of school n i played it w the intent to see if i could nuzlocke it ... bitch its so hard but its so fun bc of it), briefly assassins creed: odyssey (im one of those ppl who completes an entire region before i move to the next so you can tell i burned out of that one + wouldnt have the time to properly devote to it even if i didnt), got back into genshin impact after pulling for xiao (after not touching it for like . months), and danganronpa. yes . danganronpa 😐 i Know. i stopped playing it after the second trial of the first game bc i was so hurt by the outcome and picked it up in late january only to get sucked in (thank god i had the foresight to buy the second and third games during the steam winter sale). rn im at the start of chapter 4 if anyone wants to come in my asks and um . talk to me abt danganronpa

tl;dr: I’m Into Danganronpa Now

iii. you realize halloween was three months ago right

i mentioned this in the first section, but i love to plot things. every request is plotted or at least has a solid foundation. i had fun detailing what concept i wanted to go with considering what i was given, and there were some bangers i might touch up in the future. but heres whats going to happen to the requests themselves:

there are two finished requests. one will be posted tomorrow and the other will be touched up (just bc i finished it doesnt mean its good 🧍‍♂️) and scheduled for next saturday. as for the ones i never got around to ...

i will not be finishing those requests. i hate to be That Person, but i feel like we all expected this 🧍‍♂️ what i will do is post all of my notes for each request in batches -- requests that have an @ to go with them will be mentioned in the post proper, but anon asks will be pictured. (there are some asks that came from blogs who are now deactivated but i wrote down all the prompts and remember most of those askers so ill cross that bridge when i get there) there will most likely be an excerpt or two simply bc i think i mightve written a few plot points or interactions in the form of bullet points. i rlly am sorry about doing this but i remember looking at my notion doc with all the prompts and feeling ... like i wasnt measuring up n it wasnt just to myself or to some intangible concept of “other” id constructed but it was instead to those who requested n actually WANTED to see and hear and read my writing and i ...... im gonna admit thats another big reason i avoided this site.

regardless, youll definitely get what i have (and likely more than just my bullet points and illegible handwriting).

tl;dr: im sorry. what i have in terms of plot, concept, and interaction for every request will be posted, but i cant say ill ever complete them and mean it.

iv. so what now?

well i mean . im not entirely sure how sold i am on haikyuu in the content creation department (as a creator n to a lesser extent, as a consumer). as mentioned previously, its no longer my primary focus. it doesnt mean im not into haikyuu anymore; i have a lot of love for those boys but i cant rlly say im even caught up w recent fandom activity and also havent even finished s4 pt2 LMAO thats on my to do list

and despite all that, i still want to share my plots n concepts and snippets and maybe even fics. it wont happen anytime soon. it might not even happen. but i mean . its better than me saying i wont write ever again shjdkfs but either way ill probably use this blog as a personal blog w the occasional ask game for dialogue prompts (those are always so fun i love making up aus to fit like . the most mundane prompts)

as for my works (past and any potential future), ive opened an ao3 acc here n ill be editing n possibly expanding on my old works to post there. tumblr, to me, is The x reader hub, but i figure more x reader fics on ao3 is never a bad thing.

ill be deleting/posting drafted posts to the queue since they were all meant to be queued anyway as well as (sorry again 🧍‍♂️) deleting or answering asks in the inbox. (moots if you get a notif from me saying i rbed your post from months ago ... mind your business) im very hard to get ahold of and its ... a problem. expect an overhaul of the nav n shit to reflect my new direction n also because i feel like i cant tell if my passion for carrd is shared by the majority HSDKLFS maybe its better to read my info in a normal post ykwim .......

and of course . if youve read all this n decided im no longer worth the follow, i sure as hell cant stop you. thank you for wanting to, at some point, hear what i have to say -- it means more than you think.

tl;dr: writing will be edited and reposted to ao3, this blog will be a personal blog with a hint of writing (sometimes)

the tl;dr to end all tl;drs:

im back! i wont be as active as i used to due to a lessened interest in haikyuu in general, but i have an ao3 acc now where all my past work will be edited, possibly expanded, and reposted. any future work will also find itself there. my halloween requests will be posted in batches as incomplete concepts, plots, and snippets of scenes; i wont be promising to finish any of them.

there are still fic concepts im attached to and want to finish, but i cant promise any more writing on my end. this blog will be a personal blog with maybe writing, not a writing blog with my personal thoughts all over it.

regardless if you stick around or not, its been crazy sexy cool (equal emphasis) being on haikyuu tumblr even tho i wasnt around for long ... even tho its not my main focus anymore, im still excited to see what the future might hold 🤝

love, ari 💌

[neoniverse]

heal me. | chapter III

disclaimer: this series is a work of fiction. any businesses, events or incidents are products of my wide imagination. all of the character’s personality does not reflect and has nothing to do in real life.

warnings: smut, angst, usage of strong language, mentions of death, alcohol & drugs, cheating issues and lots of flashbacks (read each chapter carefully)

pairings: jung jaehyun x reader

a/n: i want to thank y’all for sending me messages regarding this series, i’m so overwhelmed with the support i’m receiving. :( heal me is ending in four more chapters so the next update might take long to write again for i will write the last chapters longer than the usual. again, thank you sooooo much :’( 

song association: storm - ruelle

« CHAPTER II / CHAPTER IV »

“You’re taking my heart, by storm

I’m lost in your love.”

The cold breeze of the whole fancy floor embraced a minimal exposed skin of my shoulder, allowing me to fix my white fur shawl to its place. I make my way down the carpeted hallway, knees quivering, and my heart in my throat thumping an unusual differing beat.

I am going to have a dinner with Taeyong Lee, and I don’t even like eating dinner—not to a place like this. But he kept on insisting earlier so I had to accept his offer.

“Bonsoir. Réservation pour Lee,” Taeyong pleasingly said to the lady in the desk, her hair was styled in a neat bun.

“Par ici, Monsieur.”

Another woman escorted us to a private room. Everything inside the restaurant shimmers, screams elegance, and luxuriance. I feel like a mere outsider, knowing that the man walking casually beside me is known to be really well off.

When we arrived at the dining room, the plates were already set. As if it forethought that there will be two people dining in. Taeyong pulled the chair so I could sit. He sat in front of me afterwards.

“So, are you Jaehyun’s girlfriend or ex-girlfriend?”

Taeyong randomly asked before putting the spoon inside his mouth. Just as I was about to swallow, he drifted his dark brown eyes to mine—making me choke on the food.

He forthwith poured water on the tall drinking glass; I immediately drank from it, hand over the chest.

He smirked. “Sorry. Based on your reaction, I really think you’re damn indeed my brother’s girlfriend.”

I shook my head miserably and smiled. Taeyong is softer and light to talk to than his brother. Though he immensely intimidates my soul; those dark stares, brow raise and playful grin is really something.

“What made you jump to that?” I asked him while my eyes were on the utensils I’m holding.

He went silent for a moment, giving me his infamous stare. I gave him back a look and felt my face heated so bad.

“Oh—holy shit,” He cursed softly. “You’re the one from Johnny’s house party two years ago!”

I tried to hide my smile but then, failed. Taeyong put his utensils down to hold his chin, as if enthralling.

“May I also ask now?”

He leaned back. “Yeah, sure. As what you are allowed to do so, gorgeous.”

I remained silent for a couple of seconds, thinking of the question that has been bothering me since the day I met him.

“If Jaehyun is your brother, how come you’re not a Jung?”

His brow shot up and fixes me with his dark stare. Oh, God. Did I, in any way, offend him? His mouth quirks up, and he stares quietly. If I tell you I was terrified, I do mean it.

“I—I didn’t mean to uhm, nevermind. You don’t need to ans-”

“Well, he’s my half-brother,” His lips curls in a wry smile then continues. “Father introduced him to me when we were eight. And I know what you’re thinking. I don’t hate him, Y/N. Jaehyun being my half-bro, and hating him for that is just so shallow and childish. But of course, I did hate him when we were little ones but he ended up becoming my best friend.”

I felt bad.

“I’m sorry for asking such an insensitive question,” I muttered.

Taeyong slightly shook his head sideways and proceeded to eat. He even joked about something that made me laugh. After the fancy dinner, he drove me back to the hotel I was staying at, and apparently, he was also staying there.

“When will you go back to Korea?” He asked before sitting on the solo sofa inside my hotel room. I insisted him to stay for a while.

“The day after next,” I sighed. “I have plenty of works to do.” I answered and dropped my white fur shawl on the edge of the bed.

“There is something about you that keeps me intrigued, Y/N.” He squinted his eyes that made me chuckle.

I shot my brow up. “Yeah? What is it?”

“Are you really a human or some type of goddess that walked to this planet?” He says, like a curious kid.

“That’s a secret for me.”

“Ah, whatever. I’ll go ahead now. Might be ruining your supposed beauty rest already.” He shrugged and stood up.

“Taeyong.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you, so much, for tonight. I really had so much fun.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, gorgeous. Have a good night.”

He smiled widely and winked before walking out of the room. The day after next, I went back home. Johnny fetched me from the airport and welcomed me with piles of paperwork.

“And here are the papers from Mrs. Han’s office. God, she annoyed me for the whole two days you were gone!” He continously rants. “She even told me, ‘Why did you left my poor Y/N alone”, when I’m not even fucking invited!”

 I let out a laugh. “Well, Mr. Johnny, it’s because Mrs. Han treats me like Sodam. You know how much she misses her,” I smirked. “Besides, be thankful that she didn’t make you fly to Paris just for updates about me.”

“Hm, yeah. Really thankful,” He rolled his eyes.

“By the way, I heard you went out with Taeyong.”

I froze on my swivel chair. Did someone saw us and mistakenly thought we were out on a date?

“Nope,” He answered, as if he read my mind. “Someone just told me.”

“Ah, yes,” I glanced at him. “I accidentally bumped into him when I was about to leave the event. He just compensated.”

I went silent, thinking of who could possibly saw us that night.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep it as a secret.” He winked playfully.

I glared at him. He raised his hands—as if he committed. He probably thinks there’s something going on between me and Taeyong. I let out an exasperated sigh and before finishing the paperwork. Much for a productive day.

After Taeyong’s appearance on the site three weeks ago, I never saw Jaehyun again. Perhaps he’s also taking his distance from me. Which is something I should be least cared about. Until the following days turned into weeks then turned into months. April ended like a blink of an eye.

“Hey, you seem to be so occupied,” Rosé removed her hard hat and sat beside me. “What’s bothering you?”

I looked at her. I don’t even know what’s keeping me off. Maybe because time flies so fast.

“I really don’t know, Rosie. Something’s just bothering me lately.” I softly smiled. “It’s already October.”

She patted the top of my head and did a short storytelling of her embarrassing moments when she was still in college. She was full on energy and talkative. I listened to her jokes but I still felt like floating and tired.

“Let’s go out for drinks tonight,” She squealed. ”My treat, I swear!”

She pulled me to the near mall after work. Whenever I’m about to pay, she just hands me the paper bag and shows her black card. I wasn’t even dumbfounded about it. She came from a wealthy family, after all.

After the short shopping, we decided to go home and just meet at the club. I called Johnny to join us but he said he has to be somewhere else. While Seolhee, all I know is she’s in Chicago for a short leave.

The blasting music from the club was already heard from the parking. I took a quick glance to the rear-view mirror before going out of my BMW. I decided to wear a black lace bralette, short fitted leather skirt, and a pair of black opyum sandals from YSL.

“Holy shit, Y/N!” Rosé stood up when she saw me walking towards the reserved table. She gave me a kiss on the cheek. “You look bomb, babe, just so you know.”

I laughed. “And we both know you’re the head-turner here.”

She poured vodka in the shot glasses and gave me one. I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

“Cheers!”

I was about to tale the shot when someone snatched the glass from my hand. My eyes widen up when I saw Taeyong straightly drank it. He placed the glass back to the marble table, making a noise.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Taeyong greeted. He’s wearing oversized stripped long sleeves, two buttons are unbuttoned, and his hair was dyed with color green. Which I find hideous.

I smiled and tapped the space beside me. 

Rosé cleared her throat and stood up. “I’m leaving you two alone, I’ll look for my boyfriend.”

I nodded then turned to Taeyong. “What brought you here? It’s been months since I last saw you,” I asked before taking a new shot of vodka. “Your new hair color is so fucking hideous, by the way.”

His brows furrowed then he pulled his hair down to look at his hair. “You’re such a bully, y’know.” He put his elbow to the table and rested his chin to his hand.

“And I’m not a loner,” He joked. “Come with me, I’ll bring you to our table.”

We went to the VIP floor of the club, and as we walk, he was greeted by different people, most of them are socialites or models. Taeyong swiftly placed his hand on my waist that I didn’t even notice at first.

“Meet my dumb folks,” He softly tightened his hold that made me look at him but he just winked.

Winking is his signature move.

The table was filled with five boys, one of them was familiar to me and one girl. I glanced at his friends until I saw Jaehyun in the middle, staring at me. Down to Taeyong’s hand on my waist. His jaw clenched and he looked away. The girl beside him placed her hand to his thigh.

“Y/N, this is Yuta, Lucas,” Taeyong said, looking at the two guys who were laughing on the left. They stopped when they heard their name.

I gulped nervously when I felt Jaehyun’s bored eyes at me again. My hands was trembling and it was probably obvious but they didn’t seem to notice it when I took their hands.

“Oh, right. Taeyong-hyung’s babe,” Lucas said as he took my hand and shook it. He pressed his hand.

“Doubt that,” I answered. Taeyong chuckled and guided me to sit beside the familiar guy. “He has plenty of ‘babe’ for me to add in and join the crowd.” I continued, and gazed to Jaehyun.

God, he makes me so fucking nervous.

“The two on your right are Doyoung and Mark,” He continued. “Mark is Johnny’s cousin.” He motioned to the two guys beside me.

I gave them a smile. “Yeah, I know Mark. Johnny introduced him to me before.”

“Don’t drink too much if you don’t want to make things you will surely regret tomorrow morning,” Taeyong whispered, making me chuckle. He just smirked.

Jaehyun suddenly stood up and left the table. His jaw clenched when he looked at me then he went downstairs. I excused myself for bathroom break but I just followed him.

I realized we were already outside, at the parking lot. He approached a grey Aston Martin. Even if the area was a bit dark, I can still see his ears turn red.

“Hey, Jaehyun,” I grabbed his arm.

“Fuck!” He hissed, pulling his arm back. “What is it, this fucking time, huh?”

I bit my lower lip. “Let’s just talk, please.”

He scoffed sarcastically before releasing his hand to the car handle. I gazed down.

“Why are you being like this? Are you drunk?” I said softly.

“Are you for real, asking me why am I acting out like this? You left me and you came back again,” He pushed his hair back in frustration. “Bullshit!”

I looked at him with disbelief. “I left because I had reasons, and I never wanted to be back. It was you who keeps on wanting me near you!”

“Then run away.” He looked at me with a mocking smirk. “Run fucking away. I’m so tired and done of this shit, anyway.”

My throat felt dry. I couldn’t talk. I wanted to slap him across the cheek but somehow, I just can’t. He let out a frustrated groan before kicking his car door that made me flinch. Tears are starting to form at the corner of my eyes.

“Run away from me, Y/N. Run until you’re far and unreachable for me to follow.” His jaw clenched, for God knows how many times already and shook his head.

“Why do you want me to be far from you then?” A fresh hot tear fell from my left eye.

“Because I’m so tired of the chase. I’m so tired of running for you,” His voice broke. “I tried to forget you, I tried to remove you out of my system. God knows what my fucking limit is, baby, and there’s nothing more painful to that.”

He entered his car and stayed inside. While I was left dumbfounded, someone pulled me. My traitor tears started falling—no one was even able to stop it.

Taeyong, being the great savior that he is, ended up driving me back to my condominium. He remained silent whilst I muffled my sobs inside his car. When we got inside my unit, he told me to get a nice warm shower before sleeping. He even got himself the cotton pads and makeup remover on my vanity just to remove the remaining makeup on my face.

“I will leave once you’ve fallen asleep,” He said while putting the damped cotton to my face.

I just stared at him with desolation. My heart weighed down with sadness, causing my eyes to burn with tears. He cupped my face and wiped the shed tears away.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this,” I remained my eyes to his. “But thank you, Taeyong. I’m really thankful.”

He just gave me a soft pat on top of my head as a response that made my heart thump hard. I slowly closed my eyes, begging for the darkness to fill and enclose me in.

February 9, five years ago.

Johnny’s 20th birthday bash was definitely boring—or atleast for you because you feel like you don’t belong there. Johnny is a really famous guy ever since you met him when you were freshmen. Most of his friends are either models or socialites. As you feel the boredom reaching out, you left the ballroom to go to the hotel’s rooftop to wind up and inhale fresh air. At first, you thought you were alone.

A tall guy was standing near the edge, hands inside the pockets of his black jeans, eyes gazing the view of city lights. You crossed your arms over your chest before walking towards the man. But he just remained his eyes to the busy Seoul.

Minute has passed and no one even dared to speak. You were about to leave when the unknown man finally had the guts to talk.

“Would you mind me telling a story?” He said, his back was still facing you.

You don’t know what pulled your shit together into joining and listening to him. But you decided to stay because you didn’t want to go back downstairs and act as if you’re sociable.

“My father, he got fucking mad at me just for a petty reason,” He smiled. “I left the home I thought I would claim as my own. I feel useless just because for a fucking small mistake. I hate him so much. He cheated twice, now he’s doing it again. A fucking manipulative cheater—something I will never do or even try to be.”

“You also got daddy issues. Nice.” You scoffed. He locked gazes with you. “I’m Y/N.”

He laughed and a set of deep dimples appeared. “Mhm, your name suits you well. The name’s Jaehyun Jung.”

An hour has passed without the both of you knowing. You both shared shitty stories that happened to your lives while admiring the city lights and night sky. Things like this bored you to hell before, so it was very unlikely of you.

“And you know what’s shittier than that? My father—my own father abandoned us. I have like, zero knowledge to that man.”

“Holy fuck, we’re so fucking broken,” Jaehyun scoffed sarcastically.

“I don’t feel broken, though,” You looked at him. “Did my fucked up life story atleast, helped you forget what happened to you?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Now I’m thinking if you’re some angel sent from above to heal me for a moment.”

“Allow me to heal you further, then.” You gave him a small smile.

The night was so young, and you never thought a mere stranger would also help you forget your own problems. You already knew it from the very start.

You were the reason why he wanted to be loved by people and you—to heal him as he also heal the wound of your poisonous past.

[claire-willz]

I want you to know the number you did on me. I want you to know how badly you fucked me up. I can lie through my teeth and say how over you i am, and how i'm doing good now and I'm in a better mental state and whatever the fuck. I mean I think i am? I'm not 15 and self harming and shit anymore, I don't do the same shit I did back then. I don't know if I'm in a better mental state, or if I've literally just grown up. You fucking broke me. You broke my spirit, you broke my soul.You were so fucking mean to me, I still, 8 years later have your voice in my head mocking everything I do, including writing this bullshit. You fucking ruined me. My life and who I am would have been so different if I had never met you. I mean fuck, i was so desperate to get over you I started sleeping around with anyone who would give me the time of day, which eventually lead me to be a prositute because i thought 'i do it anyway but for free, why not get paid for it?'. In this whatever post I plan to be as vunerable as i can be, and in that, I feel like I'm worth fuck all because I was a prostitute. Because of you. 8 years later and saying your name feels like I'm spitting fire, my stomach turns and i get this rush of emotions, love, hate, heartbreak, guilt.. 6 years ago, I tried to take my own life. I remember thinking how when it worked you would say 'well she was actually strong enough to do it, never thought she would'. But It didnt so.. 5 years ago, I had the biggest depression breakdown to date which cost me not one but two hospital admissions in the space of 24 hours, and I remeber worrying that you would find out because I wanted you to know I had changed even though we hadn't spoken in 2 and a half years. I was depressed, the pressure that you still put over me to be everything i never was that you wanted collapsed me i suppose. Mix that with me trying to be a better person for you and never feeling like it was enough because you fucking hate me and honestly, i see myself the way you do, or did, been too long now, maybe after 8 years you changed your mind? just in case you came back, just in case. I don't remember the sound of your voice, I barely remember what you look like. I don't remember your likes and dislikes, I don't remember your traits and hobbies, But i remember how you made me feel. And I know, because ive been telling myself for years that i need to forgive you, and I think i have, But if i really had, I wouldn't be writing this, so i don't know. Everything I did to the drugs I smoked, the alochol I drank, the people I considered friends and the men i slept with was all to get over you, and in return... I got cripping anxiety as a result from all of it. My psychologists says that to me, you represented everything i wanted at the time even if it wasn't who you were. You represented the love i wanted from my dad, you represented a happy life, you represented acceptance and approval, stability, just everything I didn't have and never did have that subconsiously I always wanted.. and yes, you did put me into therapy, not soley you, but you did. You're right, I am crazy, and i blame you for it, you made me crazy then got mad when I was. But what i wanna know, is how the FUCK do i fix this mess you made, they say time heals all wounds but i disagree, a shitload of water has run under the bridge, every single cell in my body has changed, but the time hasn't healed the wounds its caused a huge infection, the water running under the bridge has stopped running and turned into a lake, the cells in my body still crave you and still yearn for your smell and the sound of your voice saying 'stress less baby'. If i could still remember, it would ring in my ears, but its hard too when your voice is basically forgotten in my memory. I don't know how to get over you, I've tried literally everything. Hypnotism, medication, drugs, alochol, sex (and alot of it), I've tried dating other guys,I've written you letters and burnt them,Ive talked about you in depth to that many fucking people its embarrasing, yet I'm still here. Saturday night and i'm still missing the absolute shit out of you and I'm still hurt over you, stalking any only tumblr profile that has even the hint of your existence then feeling my stomach turn when i remember how it felt when you did the things you did to me. Its like its october 2012 all over again, it feels the exact fucking same and I don't know why. I hate it, I wish it could stop but I really am convinced that I never will. I won't get over you, the damange you did won't heal. I hate you, I hate you so much it literally lets my skin aflame, but I would do absolutely anything to have you back in my life. I don't think I'll get this happy ever after I've been dreaming of, I don't think I'll find someone and get married. I wish you never existed, because this isnt normal. The feelings and everything i go through daily still isn't normal. And i wish it wasn't like this. 24/7 you're torturing me. And i mean youre happy now, you have a wife and a kid, you moved on so long ago I'd be suprised if you ever remembered me. You won't ever read this, and i hope you don't. Maybe this is just another lame attempt to get over you, it won't work, but helps the pain for a little while. Being completly vunerable and honest in a 'letter' isn't something ive done yet. The rest that i wrote were all bullshit on how i forgive you and how i dont love you anymore and how i am doing so much better than you ever thought possible and blah blah blah. All lies, they feel real at the time and maybe they are, but when its moments like these that are so fucking raw the truth just comes out and i'm here, thinking of you and hating everything thats happened. I see my life and three sections, before you, during you, and after you. Before you life was easy, during you.. life was amazing and intense and extreme, after you is pain and denial. Its embarrasment and sadness. Evens bandaids fall off, even stitches get infected. Open wounds sometimes stay open. And its your fault. Maybe if you did come back life would get easier for me, maybe i wouldn't hear your voice, maybe I would go crazy on you again. I know i did awful things to you, but were they that awful? I did them because i was hurt, but you did worse too, and you never owned up to it, and yet youre still the victim in my eyes, even though you moved on and you don't feel the way i feel. I am the victim here, not you and fuck you for thinking that, fuck me for thinking that, I'm just as bad for viewing you that way, I could probably choose not too, but its so embedded into my subconsious i don't see any other way to view you. Because i hate you like you were the bad guy, and love you like you were the victim. It would have been easier if you died, not gonna lie about that. If you had died, my life would be easier. I don't mean that as 'i wish you were dead', but i mean that if you hadnt of left my by choice, it would probbaly be easier to deal with. I know ive changed as a person, i made alot of mistakes and i grew up and grew from them which is something every single person has done and yet i feel your judgement in the harshest way for every single one of them. I carry the guilt for the things that i did as if i did them to you, the one i cared/care about most. I don't know how well this explains everything within me ranting about shit and whatever, but i tried.