#And then she's surprised when I end up in these shitty codependent relationships with other people and don't believe that she likes me

[aw-bean-s]

sometimes I just wish my friends liked me the way other people's seem to

[smutsonian]

Memoir - What You Don’t Know Series (2/6)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: remembering your past

Warning/s: flashbacks, angst, deaths, car crash, drunk driving, not proofread

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: i added a character. im thinking of timothee chalamet as Elio. If you’ve watched Call me by your name, elio aint that young here. Y/N and Elio is in their 20s :3 this chapter is focused on what happened to y/n before she started actin up

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

For you, home doesn’t mean a house that you lived in so you can sleep, eat, shower, and whatnot. You always believed that a home was being with someone you love and loves you back. A home is with the person or people that you feel most safe and comfortable with. You only had two people for that matter. It used to be only one person but Steve happened. Home for you was with your father or with Steve. It doesn’t make any sense now because one is dead and one turned out to be a major asshole. 

Maybe that’s why you’re currently sitting on your father’s grave. Maybe that’s why you left New York so you can grieve to your father’s grave. Doesn’t matter if he’s dead. He’s always been there for you and you would never fail to believe that he’ll still be there for you even if he’s dead. 

You have always been a daddy’s girl. Your mother was the one who works for the family while your father is a house husband. The two of you were inseparable, always up to no good and your mother would always chastise the both of you but your father would calm her down and the three of you would just spend the time with each other. It was a picture-perfect family… Until it was not. A car accident. A fucking drunk driver. A guy stupid enough to drive a fucking car under the influence of alcohol. Your father was going to pick you up from a skating session at the ice rink but he never made it. The drunk bastard was going so fucking fast that the impact killed your father in an instant. Just like that. Just one blink and your father’s life is taken away from him. 

Your father has always been your rock but when he died, your life went to shit. Your relationship with your mom wasn’t there if your father isn’t in the picture. The two of you would only have the chance to interact because of the picnics that your father would prepare whenever your mom gets a day off from the hospital. Being a doctor takes a ton of your time, you guessed. But that’s it. You never had the chance to have a one on one with her until your father died. It didn’t end well...

[Flashback]

I can’t believe this. He’s dead. He’s really dead. Why? Why?!

“You need to save him!” you yelled at your mom but she only shook her head, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Y/N… He’s gone. I did my best. I want him alive as much as you do but life can be full of surprises. May it be a good one or a bad one.” She makes a move to embrace me but I slap her hands away, still not believing anything of this. Not believing the words coming out of her mouth.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like I’m one of your patients.” You hissed at her. Why isn’t she hurting like you were? Did she not care for him at all?

“Don’t talk to me like that, young lady. I’m still your mother-”

“Are you? Are you really? You never acted like one-” You couldn’t finish your sentence because of a stinging pain you felt on your right cheek. She just slapped you... 

“You don’t get to tell me that.” Her voice was raising and you could see her face contorting into an angry one.

“You don’t get to act like you're the only one here who’s affected by his death. He’s my fucking husband, for fuck’s sake. I’ve been with him longer than you have and you… You just have to fucking take those shitty ice skating classes and for what? I don’t see why he’s so keen on supporting you with that. Look what it got him. He’s fucking dead because of you and your stupid classes.” Her voice was laced with so much distaste that you almost flinched at it. She was seething and it was all directed towards you. Your mother being disgusted by you wasn’t what broke you but her words did. The idea, no. The fact that you’re the reason for your father’s death is what broke you.

You eyed your mother with surprised and guilty eyes and made a step back away from her, shaking your head as the tears escaped your eyes. Your mother’s face morphed into a guilty one and she went to reach for you but you stepped further away.

“No.” You hissed.

“Don’t fucking touch me. Don’t fucking come near me ever again. I fucking hate you!” And with that, you run out of the hospital. Leaving your parents without looking back. 

[End of the flashback]

Looking back at it now, you knew that you acted a bit out of hand and were being really selfish with your mother. You weren’t the only one who lost a family. Yeah, you lost your father but she lost her husband. She lost the guy that he fell in love with. They’ve been together for a long time and it must really suck to lose your lover. But you were a kid who’s mourning her father’s death and she definitely shouldn’t have put the blame on you. It fucked with your brain a lot. Like a lot. Having your mother tell you that you’re the reason for your father’s death deals great damage to a person. Especially a teenager.

Having your father die when you’re young also deals damage to you. You don’t know if it was your father’s death that made you crave older men’s approval or something but you know that his death gave you some kind of daddy issues. Putting yourself in situations with older men because of it, making you even more fucked up. 

Craving their approval is unhealthy and can be dangerous if you find yourself with someone who’s manipulative because they can use that to take you for granted. It doesn’t really matter anymore because every single one you dated turned out to be the same type of people. Everyone used you and threw you out after they had their fill. Every single one of them. You thought Steve would be different but that one stung like a bitch. The way he treated you like a child… Those hurtful words that he used… Maybe he’s right. If it keeps happening to you, maybe the problem is you.

Maybe you’re still that kid that liked seeing his father proud of her and the moment that you failed to do that anymore because he died… Maybe you’re just stuck at that. You’re so hung up on making your father proud that you jumped on the chance of making every single older man proud of you. Nevermind them taking you for granted. You’re too blinded by your determination to fill that empty hole inside your heart to even notice.

“Hey, graveyard neighbor!” 

Too occupied with your own thoughts, you don’t see the guy from beside your father’s grave until he calls out to you. You turned to see a young man sitting just a few feet away from you, one hand waving at you while the other was supporting his weight as he leaned back. Loose curls falling down his forehead as he smiled and nodded at you.

“I’ve never seen you around here. Though, I only ever started going here last month…” he mumbles, scratching his chin as he seems to be deep in thought.

“Is that your father?” He points towards your father’s headstone. You looked at him with a questioning look before nodding, turning your head to run your eyes over the stone. You never really got the chance to go to his funeral or to visit his grave because you ran away from your mother. You were too proud to be caught running back to her so you didn’t risk visiting your father. Come to think of it now, you’ve been really immature. You still are… According to Steve, you’re no woman. You’re just a little girl with a lot of issues.

You felt something touch your side and you were once again pulled out of your thoughts by the guy who found himself sitting beside you.

“According to your face, he seemed like a great guy.” He gives you a playful smile that you return. “He is… He was. He really was.” You nodded before hugging your knees and resting your chin on it.

“Your father?” Your voice was quiet as you pointed towards the headstone that was beside your father’s.

He nodded before standing up and slapping his father’s headstone. “Yep. The old man died last month. I always warned him about eating too much sugar but the old man never listened. Always saying shit about living what’s left of his life freely.” He chuckled before rubbing his palms on his jeans and offering you a hand.

“I’m Elio” 

You took his hands and shook it before standing up. “Y/N.” You give him a polite smile. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. So, how come I’ve never seen you here before?” He asked with a tilt of the head and a teasing smile. 

“I’m from New York. Just visiting here for some time.” You shrugged. How long were you even planning on staying here? You don’t really have a place here. And you for sure don’t want to see your mother. Not yet, at least.

“New York, huh? I have a small job there but I’ll be staying here for some time too. Gotta mourn my pop’s death with my ma.” He chuckles at his own words before shaking his head and poking his forehead slightly and smiling wildly at you.

“How do you feel about coffee? My treat.” He grins.

Elio seems like a fun guy to hang around with and he’s been nothing but nice. He seems about someone your age too so there’s no issue there… It can be a good distraction from real life. Having a friend sounds really nice right now and Elio has one of the friendliest smiles that you can’t help but agree to his offer to get some coffee.

Steve knew he messed up. He was so scared that you would actually leave him for real but the moment he stepped foot on your shared apartment, he felt somewhat relieved. All your things were still there. He knew you didn’t have a lot so he’s confident that you would come back. You didn’t have anyone else. He knows that you need him. He knows how you’re codependent to him. As selfish as it sounds, he’s thankful for that side of you. He’s thankful that you’re somehow messed up like that because that assures him that you’ll never leave his side. No matter how bad your fight was. You’ll come back to him. You always will.

Seconds. Hours. Days. Weeks have passed but you’re still nowhere to be found. You still haven’t come home to Steve and he’s starting to think that he may actually have done it. Where would you even go without him? Have you found another old man to cling onto? Steve knows he has no right to be mad. It’s his fault. He’s so used to being the righteous Captain America that he couldn’t believe the fact that he would be able to make a mistake. He couldn’t believe that he made a mistake with you. He just wanted to help you and be there for you but he failed. His confidence is gone and the realization hits him. You were gone and you might actually not come back. 

And it’s all his fault.

[cakesunflower]

No Need Convincing Me [Tattoo Artist!Calum AU] Part 5

Summary: Elodie Banks hadn’t expected to get so caught up in her best friend’s tattoo artist. But all it took was one meeting with Calum Hood for Elodie to feel herself drawing towards him and the ink on his skin. Maybe once she was rid of a miserable relationship and the insecurities that came with it, she’d allow herself to realize that Calum was just as wrapped up in her.

A/N: i’m not entirely satisfied with the end but like. i just needed it to be done. i definitely finished writing this in my medieval lit class while my professor talked about Chaucer bc fuck Chaucer he’s a lil bitch. ANYWAYS. happy reading!!!!

All Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6

Part 5

“Come on, man, it’s not that hard once you get the hang of it.”

Calum rolled his eyes as he and Michael crossed the street, giving a shake of his head. “Luke likes to play, just ask him.”

Michael let out a scoff, as if Calum’s suggestion was completely unsound. He sniffed, the cold late afternoon air hitting his face as they walked. “Luke dies in, like, the first minute. It’s pretty fucking pathetic,” he added with a patronizing snicker towards his best friend.

Calum huffed out a laugh, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. He almost regretted not wearing his hoodie underneath, remaining in just a shirt, as the cold weather chilled his body, the chain necklace he wore feeling like ice on his skin in addition to the breeze. He and Michael walked side by side, only stepping apart as a family shuffled past right between them before falling into step with one another as Calum said, “I’m down to play any other game with you except Fortnite. Or that weird card game.”

Throwing his head back to let out a pretty dramatic groan, earring dangling and hand flying up to the top of his head to keep his hat in place, Michael complained, “Magic: The Gathering isn’t a weird card game if you just gave it a shot!”

Calum merely smirked lazily, figuring that one day he’d give into Michael’s request and play the card game. For now he’d just let Michael sweat it out. So Calum shot his friend a look and challenged, “I’ll play the damn game when you decide to start filling in your bands—you work at a tattoo shop, for fuck’s sake.” Michael sputtered, glancing down at his tattooed arm, forgetting in that moment that he had a sweatshirt on. Calum shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “There’s no reason you shouldn’t—”

He cut off right as a store door opened in his path—where was the sidewalk store etiquette of having doors open into the store?—and Calum wondered if this was some kind of universal joke as Nathan, of all of the people in this populated city, strolled out. He paused, green eyes meeting Calum’s dark brown as he fixed his damn cuff links, lips curling automatically into a sneer as he took in the sight of Calum.

And Calum couldn’t help it, he stopped as well—mostly because he had to as a way of avoiding getting hit by the door—and let out an unamused breath through his nose as he realized they were in front of the high tux shop a couple of blocks from their parlor, before his gaze returned to Nathan. He looked just as crisp and clean cut as usual as Calum eyed him, expression bemused and the corner of his lips just barely lifting into a condescending smirk. His unimpressed stare remained on Nathan while he drawled to Michael, “This fuckin’ guy.”

He heard Michael let out a displeased scoff of his own while Nathan merely smirked as he mused, “Tell me—is the tattoo profession truly that slow since you and your employee here can afford walking around the city during business hours? Seems like I only ever see you out of your shop, pal.”

Nathan was obviously goading him, or at least trying to, a not-so-subtle dig at Calum’s choice of career. Not that Nathan trying to paint himself as the more successful of them had any effect on Calum; the tattoo artist knew his business was doing better than great, and he was pretty damn happy and content with his life. Nothing a bitter, petty, and asshole of a man could say would make any of that less true.

“Funny, I was just gonna say I’ve been seein’ a bit too much of you,” Calum responded, his tone flat and sounding just as uninterested as he was.

It was also meant to be the last thing Calum was going to say to Nathan, exchanging a bored look with Michael just as the words left his lips before the two of them went to side step him and continued on their way. They were just about to merge back into the sidewalk traffic when Nathan spoke up once more, “That’ll happen if you glue yourself to Elodie. How much longer are you planning on doing that, by the way? Being so codependent isn’t healthy, you know.”

A soft yet disbelieving breath escaped Calum’s lips at Nathan’s words, eyes rolling skywards as he wondered if the mad bastard really just uttered that statement. Calum would’ve laughed at Nathan’s hypocricy in regards to healthy relationships—who the fuck was he, of all people, to try and give advice on those?—if it weren’t for the irritation so quickly beginning to burn his blood. Was this guy really so blind to think that what he did to Elodie was normal? It concerned Calum if that was true; the reminder of what she had to endure in a relationship with someone like Nathan twisted Calum’s stomach in uneasy anger. No one deserved to be treated the way Nathan treated Elodie, and knowing that someone Calum was so quickly coming to care about had to go through that only further pissed him off. And to think that Nathan thought that Calum being with Elodie was something that had an expiration date on it, he was sorely mistaken. Calum didn’t plan on it, and he could only hope, though he may kind of know, that Elodie didn’t, either.

Calum could’ve easily been the bigger man and continued walking, ignoring Nathan and his taunts that didn’t effect Calum. But he also didn’t want Nathan walking away thinking his behavior and words were so easily done without him being put in his place. Calum wasn’t too keen on being given the responsibility of being the one to do so, but then Elodie’s face flashed in his mind; her brown eyes and soft hair and gentle smile and the kind tone she spoke in, and Calum didn’t mind anymore. He found himself realizing, as a smile threatened to quirk at his lips for no reason other than just thinking about Elodie, that he’d probably do anything for her already. He was fine with that.

Calum and Elodie weren’t codependent, not by a long shot; they were just getting to know each other, a journey they were both enjoying and didn’t want to end. So he wasn’t even going to acknowledge that part of Nathan’s empty taunt. Instead, he just turned around, catching Michael’s semi-amused huff, and tilted his chin at Nathan. “At least I’m not a controlling bastard like you.” With a cock of his head, Calum pushed smugly, “Isn’t that why your unhealthy relationship died?” Calum clicked his tongue in mock empathy. “Must be shit to not have control over someone and lose ’em.”

He saw the effect his words had on Nathan, who had proven to not being as good as Calum in keeping himself in check, as the snide smirk on his lips dissipated as his jaw clenched and gaze hardened, lips twitching into a frown he couldn’t contain. Even so, Calum couldn’t tell if Nathan was more bothered by the comment of him being controlling, or the reminder that Elodie ended their relationship.

Instead of lashing out, Nathan took a step towards Calum, a single click of the heel of his fancy ass dress shoes as Calum felt Michael tense up ever so slightly. But Nathan’s gaze remained on Calum, who kept his gaze on him evenly. Nathan’s green eyes were brimming with a familiar fire and his teeth gritted as he threatened in a low, taut tone, “She’s never going to love someone like you.”

It was almost amusing how Nathan thought that was for him to decide. Calum cared for no one’s opinion but Elodie’s, and he wasn’t going to let a selfish, bitter ex of hers influence his thoughts. Love was some ways away for now—but with Elodie, Calum had a feeling he was on the track, given just how fast and quickly he fell for her. And, shit, did he revel in it. So Calum’s dark eyes narrowed slightly but remained on Nathan’s green, hands that were still in the pockets of his leather jacket forming into tight fists as he returned assertively, just a hint of ridicule, “Are you speaking from experience?”

He was well aware that his words were fuel to an already brimming fire, and Calum picked up on the instant shift of Nathan’s expression, saw the severe temper Calum provoked darken his green eyes and the twitch of his lips threatening into a snarl. But Calum was unapologetic, didn’t care that he was reminding the bastard of how shitty his relationship was despite whatever delusion he’d put himself into. Calum was still unapologetic when Nathan pulled back his hand in one second and slammed the knuckles of his fist into the bone of Calum’s cheek.

There was an instant numbing sting that settled in Calum’s face, forced to stumble only a single step back from the force Nathan put behind the punch. Calum was more surprised by the power behind the hit than the actual hit itself, head turning by the punch as it shocked through his face. He was only barely aware of Michael’s protesting shout, didn’t care for the fact that they were on the sidewalk and a few people had looked over upon the violent action. All Calum could focus on was the sting on one side of his face, his own fury thrumming to life as he clenched his jaw, the action only causing a newfound ache, facing the right as his head had turned upon the punch. There were a couple of middle aged women who’d saw what just happened, completely forgetting that they were going to cross the street and instead watching with wide, incredulous eyes.

Calum’s lips parted, slowly dragging his gaze back to Nathan as he licked the inside of his lower lip in provoked acceptance that this was how it was going to be. He almost smirked when Nathan followed his actions with words unsteady because of barely contained anger, “She was lucky to have me. Now she’ll just go back to being absolutely nothing.”

Almost.

But then Nathan had to bring Elodie’s worth into it, something Calum understood neither he nor Nathan could live up to, and any pain of his cheek disappeared as Calum decided, in that split second, to not hold back.

There was no hope for Calum to remain unaffected by Nathan’s jeer, or his presumptuous attitude of being someone who made Elodie anything but unjustifiably insecure and timid, and he ignored Michael’s attempts of pulling him away. Calum felt his muscles tighten as his fingers curled into a fist, his blunt nails digging into his palms, lips curving into an animalistic snarl as he swung his own fist forward.

The first thing Calum noticed was the sharp pain in his fingers as his knuckles dug right into Nathan’s nose because he’d definitely broken it. The second thing Calum noticed was Michael’s startled, “Jesus, fuck!”. And the third thing Calum noticed as Nathan stumbled backwards, much more than Calum had, and Calum’s hand uncurled was the bit of blood that was now tainting his fingers and rings.

Nathan ended up on the ground, a shout of pain escaping him as he brought his hands up to his face, the crimson color painting his skin and dripping right down to stain his probably expensive suit. Calum stood over him, looking down at the bleeding man as his hand hung beside him, the adrenaline pumping through his veins fueled by a wrath he hadn’t known himself capable of numbing him to the pain he was probably going to feel soon in both his face and hand.

But he was aware of the eyes that were watching them, people minding their own business but observing the scene that had just unfolded, yet Calum kept his fiery gaze on Nathan, feeling Michael’s hand on his shoulder. Not an ounce of regret tainted Calum, the beat of his heart only racing due to the adrenaline stemming from the anger Nathan’s words brought. Calum’s jaw clenched, vaguely aware of the sting on his cheek because of the action, but he didn’t care. No fucking way was he going to let this bastard say shit about Elodie and allow him to walk away without repercussions.

“You fuck—” Nathan sputtered through a thick voice, words muffled and disgruntled by his hands holding his nose and the blood that was pouring from it, his eyes widened in pain and incredulity and infuriation as he looked up at them. Calum felt a swell of satisfaction at the sight of him; on his ass on the sidewalk, expensive looking suit getting stained with blood, and not at all looking as put together as he’d like to. “You broke my fucking nose!”

Calum briefly raised his eyebrows, features set and hardened, hyper aware of the warm blood on his own skin. “It was either that or your arm,” he responded briskly, reminding Nathan of his promise from Dominique’s birthday party, to which the fallen man sputtered out something incoherent. “I would’ve preferred both.”

Nathan pushed himself up, a smear of blood on the pavement as he used one hand to get to his feet. His other hand remained on his nose, the crimson blood visible through his fingers, and blonde hair disheveled from the fall. Green eyes enraged, Nathan demanded, “You think you can get away with putting your han—”

“It was self defense, asshole,” Michael spoke up, his own voice tight once he’d gotten over his brief surprise of how quickly things had escalated. “You punched him first and there are loads of witnesses to attest to that. Fucking try.”

Calum pressed the tip of his tongue against the back of his lower teeth, forcefully as he fought the sneer from curling at his lips again, feeling the muscles in his face subtly twitch in protest. This guy—this motherfucker who hurt Elodie with his words and treatment—deserved any kind of pain Calum may have just inflicted upon him. He deserved to feel any semblance of an ache like he caused Elodie, and Calum was more than willing to be the physical enforcer of it. He was proud of her for sticking up for herself, for getting herself out of the situation, but that didn’t mean Calum couldn’t offer his services.

Sure, he’d known her only for a short time but, shit, he’d do it for her.

Nathan fumbled incoherently once more, stupidly, trying and failing to find words to defend himself, to find the kind of words he’d utter to hurt Elodie and throw them in Calum’s face. Hell, if Nathan even tried, he was a bigger idiot than Calum already thought of him as.

So he left him with a simple and honest warning in a tone that left no room for niceties. “You try to talk shit ’bout Elodie again, and I’ll take a couple-a-teeth out, too.”

*****

The second the door to Calum’s apartment swung open, Elodie’s instinctual reaction was to look down at his dominant hand to visually inspect it. The air had rushed out of her lungs the second she’d received Dominique’s text earlier, praising Calum for punching Nathan so hard that he broke his nose, which was the first time Elodie had even heard about the incident. She’d been in her three hour film lecture, only receiving the texts once she was out of class, and had needed to stop walking to make sure she was reading Dominique’s text correctly.

Calum had punched Nathan. He’d broken his nose. And Elodie wasn’t entirely sure how she should feel that the first thought that popped into her head following the news wasn’t to be afraid of Calum, but was to be worried about his hand.

Because as well as Elodie thought she’d known Nathan for the years they grew up together and the months they were dating, it felt like nothing compared to how she was getting to know Calum. With him, nothing felt off limits, there were no egg shells to walk on, no temper to be uneasy around. If Calum punched Nathan, Elodie instinctively knew it was for a good reason. And it felt crazy to her, how easy it felt with Calum; unrestrained and comfortable and good. Maybe that’s why she wanted to see him right away. Because with Nathan, all she ever wanted to do when his temper flared was to get away.

So when the door opened, Elodie’s gaze flickered down to his hand briefly before her worried brown eyes met Calum’s surprisingly sheepish ones, feeling her chest swell happily at the mere sight of him until she took in the slight discoloration on his left cheek. Elodie’s lips parted at the bruise that bloomed on the swell of his cheek, chest sinking with the sharp breath that escaped her as the words, “Are you okay?” tumbled out of her mouth immediately.

She hadn’t been aware that Nathan had gotten a hit in, too. Not nearly as strong, but still. The sight of the injury twisted Elodie’s stomach—the knowledge of it being caused by her ex only worsened it.

But Calum, quickly becoming a light, only smiled through a breathless chuckle and reassured, “I’m fine, doll,” before ducking his head to press a quick kiss to her lips, Elodie’s mouth automatically puckering to accept the kiss before moving further into the apartment. Paws clattered across the floorboards and Calum smiled, as if he didn’t have a bruise on his face, and nodded, “Duke’s just as excited to see you.”

She picked up the dog just as he reached her, accepting and enjoying the kisses she was greeted with, with a smile on her face, though her concerned gaze remained on Calum as she watched him shut the door. Elodie mumbled a gentle, “Hi, buddy,” to Duke as she ran her fingers through his soft fur, his paws against her chest as her gaze dropped to Calum’s hand once more.

Duke wiggled out of her grasp and Elodie bent down enough for him to easily jump down, and her eyebrows knitted together as Calum tried to move past her but she stopped him, grabbing the material of his hoodie. He skidded to a stop as she maneuvered around him, her hand gently grasping his right wrist so she could lift up his hand and inspect it. Elodie’s throat tightened at the faint bruises formed on his knuckles, the color sticking out more than the glint of his rings, and the familiar uneasiness of guilt crept back into her stomach.

“Don’t worry—I didn’t break anythin’. Just iced it a bunch; the bruising will go away soon enough,” Calum told her, the reassurance ever present in his tone, and Elodie adored that he was trying to make her feel better even though he was the one who was physically injured. It only served as a reminder of how considerate Calum was, and it made falling for him that much lighter.

Elodie held his fingers in hers, her touch light as a feather out of fear of somehow irritating his bruise, and let her thumb run over the skin by his rings as she scoffed gently. “Didn’t break anything except for Nathan’s nose.” Was it wrong to feel a smile tug at her lips? She never wanted to be someone to smile at someone else’s expense, much less their pain. But knowing Calum was okay relieved some of the tension in her shoulders. Lifting her gaze, Elodie met Calum’s eyes and told him with only the tiniest bit of amusement coloring her tone, “I heard you got blood on his favorite Armani suit.”

Calum scoffed, lips quirking briefly as he looked down at Elodie holding his hand, ever so careful of touching his injury. With an almost childlike petulance, Calum countered, “He got blood on my favorite rings.”

Despite wanting to continue standing there and joking around lightheartedly, Elodie still felt the weight lingering on her shoulders, which sank when she let out a sigh and lamented, “I hate that this happened to you because of me.” Her throat worked as she eyed the bruise on his cheek, a reddish-purple color blossoming against the brown of his skin. “Do you need ice?”

“Elodie,” Calum was quick to speak up, removing his hand from her light grasp so he could place both of his hands at the sides of her face, fingers tangling into her brown locks and ducking his head to maintain eye contact. He had a habit of holding her like that, and Elodie adored it. His brown eyes were widened in encouragement, hoping she would hear his words loud and clear as he said, “This didn’t happen because of you. It happened because your ex is a dick and I’ve been known for being unable to keep my mouth shut.” His touch was warm, as always, and his words spread the same comfort his hands did as his thumb stroked her cheek. “And it was completely worth it.”

Still, Elodie found herself nibbling on her lower lip as she gazed at the bruise on his cheek and was hyper aware of his discolored knuckles as well. The heaviness in her chest wasn’t as suffocating, but it was still there as it dried her throat, and Elodie couldn’t bring herself to look Calum in the eyes anymore. Not through any fault of his own—she just had some things to work through as well, things ingrained into her by her selfish ex, and it was those same insecurities that had her whispering out, “Why is it when I’m in a relationship, someone ends up hurt?”

“Baby.” Elodie’s heart lodged itself in her throat as the term of endearment slipped from Calum’s lips, soft and raspy in his desperate voice. He’d never called her that before. She liked it. Calum gently tilted her head—more like gave it a nudge, trying to get her to do it on her own because he didn’t want to force her if she didn’t want to. But Elodie found herself lifting her gaze, lips pressing together as her eyes met Calum’s inviting brown ones. “Don’t mistake Nathan’s actions for your own. What you’ve done has allowed you to be yourself unapologetically. You’re out. You’re—”

“Happier,” Elodie finished quietly, feeling that weight lift from her shoulders with every word Calum spoke, no longer suffocating her. Her eyes remained on his as a smile tugged at her lips, hands slipping into the single front pocket of Calum’s hoodie to keep him close. Almost sheepishly, she decided to add, “Safer.”

Maybe it was too soon, maybe she was taking a leap, but that’s how she felt when she was around Calum—safe. Like being herself wasn’t something she actively had to hold back in worry of bothering him, because he liked who she was. He liked that her coffee order differed depending on the time of day she got it because she liked the inconsistency, he liked that at least one article of clothing she wore had to have some kind of floral design, he liked that she was only active on Instagram once a month to post an aesthetically pleasing picture she’d taken before closing the app until the next month arrived. It was all little things that were probably insignificant, but Calum liked them not out of his own personal preference—but because Elodie liked them in herself. And that meant more than Elodie could comprehend.

He let her be herself without fault in the near two months he’d known her than the six months she’d been with Nathan. Calum came into her life like storm and instead of wrecking it, he somehow managed to help clear a path so Elodie could fix it herself.

Elodie let out a breath, throat working as she said to him earnestly, albeit timidly, “I don’t mean to bring the mood down bringing up these. . . Insecurities.”

“You don’t ever bring the mood down, sweetheart,” came Calum’s genuine response, lips curling into the soft smile he had reserved just for her, the one that sent her heart leaping. “You make it worthwhile. C’mere.”

He pulled her in for a hug then, his embrace just as tender as his words as his arms wrapped around her frame, and Elodie pulled her hands out of Calum’s hoodie’s pocket to wrap them around his waist. She closed her eyes, cheek against the area just below his chest because God knows she can’t reach it, and lost herself in his familiar cologne and touch. Elodie felt Calum’s lips press to the top of her head before he rested his uninjured cheek against it, and she sank into his hug, into him, as his tranquility seeped into her bones.

Calum rubbed his hand up and down her back soothingly, the two of them standing in a tender silence, before he murmured, “Come on, dinner’s almost ready.”

Elodie smiled as they pulled away, and she shrugged off her coat before following him into the open plan kitchen. It was there where she saw a pot of pasta boiling on the stove, as well as the other ingredients sitting on the counter ready to be cooked. She followed Calum, a smile tugging at her lips when she noted the boneless and skinned chicken breasts, baby spinach, garlic, parmesan, and a bunch of other ingredients waiting to be prepped.

Her heart was thrumming happily in her chest, eyes alight at the sight before her as Calum picked up the bottle of red wine on the counter and poured some for Elodie and himself. “I thought you weren’t much of a wine drinker,” she hummed as she neared him, gladly taking the glass he offered her. She remembered one of the many conversations they had as they got to know each other, found out that he preferred some good whiskey or maybe even a beer to wine.

“I am around you,” he responded with a smirk, and Elodie giggled lightly as he clinked his glass with hers before the two of them took sips of the bittersweet drink. She smiled around the rim of the glass as Calum shot her a wink over his, before lowering his and moving to go back to the other counter where the stove is. “’M making us some Tuscan chicken and spinach pasta.”

“Sounds delicious,” Elodie hummed, glass still in hand as she moved towards him, leaning against the counter but making sure she didn’t get in his way as she asked, “Can I help?”

There wasn’t much he needed for her to do, so Elodie just stood by Calum and sipped her wine as he worked—eventually he cleared some space on the counter so she could hop up, and Elodie crossed her ankles as she watched him make dinner. There was music softly playing throughout the apartment, songs similar to those she heard in the tattoo parlor, and Elodie gently swayed her head to the music and drank her wine and made conversation with the first man to ever actually make her food.

She may have snapped a picture of Calum cooking the seasons chicken, his gaze on the skillet while an amused grin quirked at his lips, aware of what she was doing. But Elodie couldn’t help it—he looked so at ease as he made the food, which had been his idea in the first place. He was the one who’d invited Elodie over to his place, told her he’d make them dinner and they could hang out, and she recalled the way her heart had melted when he offered to cook. The mere fact that he could and liked to cook was enough to have Elodie rushing over. Nevermind the fact that she loved spending time with him anyway.

They made light conversation; she talked about what she was learning in her lectures plus the new charities she brought up to her family for their foundation to support, while he disclosed the tattoos he’d just done plus a few sketches that he drew. It slipped Elodie’s mind that as a tattoo artist, Calum was also an artist, that many of the tattoos he gave his clients were ones they’d picked from his own designs. She wondered if any of the ones he had were of his own making, still wanted to sit down and ask him about every single one of the words and images inking his skin.

“I wish I was good at something,” Elodie sighed after taking another sip of the wine. She was already a glass and a half in, and it was safe to say she was beginning to feel the lightheadedness that came with drinking it. Her skin was beginning to feel warm, a happy flush on her cheeks, as she pouted. Calum had put the pasta in a big bowl and was mixing in the chicken and spinach and everything else. He quirked an eyebrow at the slight drawl her words were adopting. “All I do is go to school and cry.”

Calum knew he shouldn’t laugh, but he couldn’t help the amused chortle escape him as he glanced over at Elodie with raised eyebrows, the fondness he felt for her warming his heart as he continued tossing the pasta. “You know that’s not true, doll,” he told her knowingly. “You’re good at working your family’s foundation. Aren’t you the one that researches and brings in the charities and organizations you guys support?”

“Well, yeah.” Elodie’s eyebrows furrowed almost childishly, a small pout forming on her lips that Calum felt the urge to kiss. He finished with the pasta, hot and ready to eat, as he took the two steps to the other side of the stove where Elodie sat. She looked up at him, and he noticed the slight glaze over her eyes. “But I feel like I could be doing more.”

“You’re already doing more than most,” Calum told her, coming to a stop in front of her and feeling a smirk curve his lips as Elodie automatically unlocked her ankles and spread her legs just enough for him to step into the space they created. Calum braced his hands on the cool marble counter on either side of her thighs, careful of his bruised knuckles, and enjoyed the scent of her floral perfume that briefly overpowered the food he’d cooked. But Calum focused on her, and the hints of doubt seeping into Elodie in regards to her worth, and he was bitterly reminded of what Nathan had said. Calum wasn’t going to let any spiteful thing that bastard said come true in any way, so he quickly derailed that train of thought in Elodie’s mind. “You, my darling, are better than most people I’ve met. That’s a fact.”

Her cheeks pinkened more than they already were, and Elodie felt her heart flutter happily in her chest. Every time Calum complimented her, she felt the air rushing out of her lungs, incredulous that his words made her feel ten times lighter than how awfully Nathan’s words impacted her. Elodie rested her nearly empty wine glass on the counter, hand coming up to cup Calum’s uninjured jaw and feeling his warm skin under her touch as she told him, honestly and genuinely, “You’re too good to me. That’s a fact.”

“Baby,” Calum breathed, raspy and shiver inducing as he brushed his nose against hers. There it was, that sweet little term that had butterflies exploding in her belly. Calum’s gaze was on hers, never afraid to look her in the eye, as he said, “You’re too good for me. That’s a fact.”

Elodie’s heart jumped, eyes dropping to his lips, just inches away from hers. She barely gave a shake of her head. “Nope.” And then closed the gap to capture his lips with hers.

Calum welcomed the kiss wholeheartedly, a throaty hum sounding in his throat as he moved his lips with Elodie’s and briefly gripped her hips before sliding his hands lower to bury them in the back pockets of her jeans. Elodie felt him pull her closer with his new grip, her lips parting when his tongue trailed across her lower lip, deepening the kiss as the taste of wine remained present on both of them. Her heart drummed in her chest as her own hands slid under Calum’s sweatshirt, his lack of shirt underneath allowing her hands to run along his smooth, warm skin, her touch instinctively causing Calum to give her a cheeky squeeze.

There was dinner waiting for them, Elodie knew that, was excited to take a bite of what Calum had made for them, but Elodie was enjoying the feel and taste of Calum’s lips and how warm he felt against her. She couldn’t help the way she dragged her nails down the length of his back, felt an uncharacteristic smirk tilt at her lips against Calum’s when he deepened the kiss with a deep moan that Elodie swore vibrated through her. He sounded as good as he felt.

Calum leaned into her and Elodie’s heart picked up even more, pounding in her ears because this closeness wasn’t enough; she needed more, craved it, wanting nothing in between them as her lips felt electric against his. Everything else began slipping away, her focus only being on the man who was kissing her like it was the last thing he’d get to do, yet still Elodie tried against her better judgement, “The food’ll get cold.”

Her words were mumbled against Calum’s mouth, and he merely grunted as his hands slipped out of her pockets only to grip the backs of her thighs, giving Elodie no warning as he lifted her. She let out a startled gasp, both at the action and the trickle of worry of his injured hand, but Calum’s teeth grazing her lower lip easily distracted her as she locked her ankles at his lower back and wrapped her arms around his neck as Calum said gruffly, “We’ll reheat it.”

Elodie wasn’t entirely sure how, she was too lost in the way her legs were hooked so perfectly around Calum and how he kissed her so fiercely, like he was putting everything into it, but they eventually ended up in a different room. She barely registered the sound of Calum kicking a door shut, eyes closed to completely savor the taste of his lips, kissing off the wine he’d also drank as Calum sank down until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Hands returning to the hem of Calum’s sweatshirt, Elodie gripped it and pulled it upwards, the material offending and distancing, their kiss breaking only for a moment as she tugged it over his head and let out a breathless giggle when Calum’s one hand reached the back of it to take it all the way off and dropped it on the floor, lips returning to hers urgently.

Her heart thundered as they kissed, his stubble scratching her deliciously as she ran her hands from his neck down his chest, feeling the smoothness of his warm skin and the brief chill of the necklace that he seemingly never left the house without. The need to feel close to him was desperate, and Elodie was quickly losing herself into Calum as she used her nimble fingers to undo the buttons of her blouse, Calum’s hands gripping her hips as she shrugged off the cotton material. Calum’s hands slid up, feeling her bare warm skin, the kiss breaking to allow them to catch their breaths as his gaze dropped.

Their chests heaved in time with their quickened hearts, foreheads and noses pressed together and lips electric as Calum’s gaze dropped to Elodie’s newly exposed skin, throat drying at the sight of her in just a bra and jeans. The quiet of the room was interrupted only by their heavy breaths, and as Elodie’s right hand placed itself on the back of his neck, fingers playing with the growing dark hair, her other dancing along the necklace resting against his tattooed collarbones, she felt the warmth of his hands spread through her body.

Calum ran his hands up and down the smooth skin of her back, the tips of his fingers grazing the band of her bra, and his voice was hoarse as he whispered, “El, are you sure?”

She felt the corners of her lips quirk up, felt the electricity thrumming her veins and the obvious desire of how badly Calum wanted to keep going as she remained straddling his lap, and Elodie decided she didn’t want to shy away from this. From Calum. He never gave her a reason to, so she wouldn’t.

Elodie brushed her lips against Calum’s kissed ones, cheeks warming when he tilted his chin forward to kiss her properly. “Only if you are.”

And then she grinded her hips down on him, a gesture neither of them had been expecting, and Calum’s grip on her tightened, uncaring of his bruised knuckles, as he cursed through gritted teeth, “Fuck.”

She was killing him, he knew, as she pulled him in for another kiss before breaking away too soon. Calum groaned at the loss, eyes opening as he felt Elodie get off of him. He looked up at her, feeling a haze of adoration as he watched her with her long hair falling over shoulders, a not-so-innocent smile playing at her kiss pinkened lips, eyes on him as her fingers worked on the button and zipper of her jeans. Calum’s throat tightened as she kicked the jeans off, only a pretty lingerie set adorning her body that Calum couldn’t wait to take off.

The pout she sent his way nearly had Calum falling to his knees, her long hair falling around her shoulders as she gestured at him with a finger. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” Elodie said, her voice holding her usual sweet lilt, though Calum wasn’t deaf to the playful glimmer in her dark eyes. She continued to surprise him.

He smirked through a chuckle, pulling his lower lip into his mouth while his gaze remained on his girl, watching her watch him as he took off his sweatpants, the smirk wiping off his face when Elodie settled on her knees in the space between his legs and her gentle touch wrapped around his cock.

Calum’s hooded gaze was watching Elodie, feeling his heart in his throat as she closed her mouth around him, and he was in fucking heaven. His uninjured hand, braced behind him, tightened the bed sheets into a fist while the other easily gathered Elodie’s hair behind her head, his own lips parting at the sight of hers around him. The sensation of her hand working what she couldn’t fit in her warm mouth, nails of the other teasingly dragging along the top of his thigh as she worked him over.

“Shit.” It was all he was capable of breathing out, voice ragged and unsteady, the need to throw his head back and get lost in Elodie’s treatment of him heavy, but Calum didn’t want to take his eyes off of her. His fingers tangled in her soft hair, the blood rushing through his veins and thundering heart accompanying the fire spreading throughout his body.

The sight of Elodie on her knees before him was filthy, gorgeous, unexpected and perfect in every way. Calum could feel just how quickly she was pulling him to the edge, her mouth generous and dizzyingly pleasurable. But as pretty as she was before him, Calum knew he was going to come undone if she continued her ministrations, and he wanted to let go for the first time inside of her—not in her mouth.

“What?” Elodie pouted when Calum pulled her up, the loss of her making him grunt as his hands grasped her hips. She let out a startled sound amidst a giggle as Calum used his grip on her to turn them so she fell back onto the bed, Calum immediately sliding his body on top of hers as his lips pressed against hers urgently. He felt her melt under him, her hands running up the expanse of his back before her fingers found his short hair, keeping him close. Calum’s own hand snuck underneath her to unclasp her bra, ignoring the mild sting of his injured fingers at the action as Elodie lowered her arms briefly to slide off the straps before the offending material was gone.

He felt her breasts press against his chest, soft and supple on his warm skin as he kissed her, losing himself in her. Hastily, though not entirely sure how, Calum reached over to his bedside drawer, blindly pulling it open and rummaging around, lips still moving against Elodie’s, until his fingers finally grasped the foil package he’d been searching for.

There was an overwhelming, breathless desire to have her close to him, closer than she already was; to have her against him in all the right ways because it already felt so natural, so good, to be with her like this. The urgency of his kisses slowed, savoring the taste of her chapstick and the wine dancing on both of their tongues as he committed every bit of her to memory while tearing open the packet, ignoring the twinge in his bruised knuckles at the action. God. The last thing he thought was he’d be doing this with Elodie, finally, with a few bruises painting his skin.

She’d taken her underwear off during the moments of Calum rolling on the condom, hissing slightly at the latex against him, forehead pressed to Elodie’s as their heavy breathing became the soundtrack of their anticipation. His gaze lowered, lining himself up to where she needed him most, and in the midst of their excited breathing and hazy heads, Calum’s eyes met Elodie’s once more.

He looked at her, hovering over her as he took in the pretty flush of her cheeks, the already blissed out look in her eyes and lips pink and kissed. Calum’s heart was erratic within his chest, taking her in as he, in that moment, couldn’t help but think how lucky he was. His disbelief and overwhelm could be heard in his heavy breaths, could see Elodie’s own excitement in the rise and fall of her chest and tension of her neck, the diamond pendant of her necklace settled right between her collarbones. She was breathtaking, and Calum was so fucking lucky.

He couldn’t help himself by pressing his lips to hers once more, a slow and lasting kiss that had Elodie’s grip on the back of his neck tightening, wanting him close. Calum lined himself up to her, about to break the kiss just so he could hear her approval, only to be beaten to the punch as Elodie begged against his lips, “Please.”

His hips thrust forward, the sensation of him burying herself in her leaving both of them gasping for air, Elodie clinging to him and Calum groaning into the crook of her neck, feeling the subtle sting of his bruise, though it barely registered. Elodie wrapped her legs around his hips, and Calum’s hand gripped her thigh, uncaring of the strain on his fingers. Nothing mattered except for Elodie. As if there was anything else on his mind.

He started off slow, pulling out before burying himself to the hilt once more, feeling and hearing Elodie’s breath hitch at the sensation of him filling her up, his free arm next to her to keep himself above her. It was a symphony of his grunts and her breathless moans and skin slapping against skin and utterly losing themselves in one another. His motions were fluid and she received him completely, and Calum couldn’t keep himself from marking up her neck as he felt her nails digging into his back.

He could feel himself quickly reaching his high, but Calum fought himself, refusing to come undone until Elodie did first, no matter how difficult it felt after her mouth had worked him over. Praises fell past his lips, effortless in her worship, everything about her continuing to draw him closer and closer to the edge.

And when they lay in bed after the fact, utterly spent as they tried to catch their breaths with only one of his bedsheets covering them, there was a mutual, silent understanding between them that this was. . . Perfect. That laying in bed, warm bodies bare and pressed together under the sheet, with her head laying on his chest and his arm wrapped around her, was a flawless and blissful image they both had yearned for.

Elodie’s fingers danced with his, gaze on the way she gently turned his hand to look at the mild discoloration of his knuckles. The reminder that he was injured, no matter how insignificant Calum paints it to be, because of someone in her life still ate away at Elodie. But she’d be lying if she said there wasn’t a prickle of satisfaction, of adoration, that he wasn’t afraid of standing up for her. He defended her so easily when it took her so long to do so herself, and Elodie liked to think it was her having a wake up call of her own mixed in with a bit of courage from Calum himself that allowed her to be in the position she was in today. She counted herself so lucky that she went to the tattoo parlor with Dominique that day.

“I’m alright, y’know.” Calum’s voice was a low rasp from above her, and Elodie could feel the vibration of him speaking as her head remained against his chest. The way she was caressing his knuckles probably prompted him to speak up. “Doesn’t hurt or anythin’.”

Elodie bit her lower lip, which kind of still tingled from his dizzying kisses. As their fingers gently laced together, she surmised, “You’re just saying that so I won’t feel bad.”

“Hey.” There was a soft disapproving tone in his voice, hand snaking around her to tilt her chin up. Her dark eyes met his after briefly eyeing the bruise on his cheek, and there was a subtle crease between his eyebrows as he said, “I wouldn’t lie to you. And there’s nothing for you to feel bad about. He’s an ass and if I could break his nose again, I would.”

Elodie couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her at Nathan’s expense, the sound quirking up Calum’s lips as well as Elodie looked at him. His lips were as kissed as hers, a pretty flush on his cheeks that she knew was warming her own, and there was a contentment present in her chest that she only ever felt around him. It was enough to push all thoughts of her ex out of her head, irritated with herself for even having a single thought about him. The mere mention of him was a disservice to herself and Calum and the relationship they’d come to have.

So she sat up, pressing the sheet to her chest with one hand, Calum’s arm falling from around her shoulders as he looked at her now seated figure with raised eyebrows. “Come on—” she smiled, grabbing his hand. “I wanna try the pasta.”

Calum chuckled deeply, not one to say no as he followed her off the bed. He put his sweatpants back on as Elodie pulled up her underwear, taking Calum’s hoodie as he offered it to her before following him back into the kitchen. Duke raised his head from where he was on the couch, jumping off as his paws clattered on the floor and followed them as they helped themselves to the dinner Calum had made, needing to heat it up just like he’d said after he poured Duke his food as well.

They ended up on the couch, flickering the TV on with warm plates in their laps with The Office keeping them entertained. And as they watched and ate, Elodie couldn’t help but let her gaze wander to the man sitting on the other end of the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table. Her fork absently played with the pasta on her plate, too distracted by Calum; she felt her heart flutter in her chest, tickling, as she admired the way he laughed at the show, enough to push his cheeks up, uncaring of his bruise, and show off the crinkles by his eyes. He sat shirtless, tattoos on full display, bicep looking a bit too inviting as he held the plate with his left hand above his lap.

Just sitting here brought Elodie a sense of tranquility she’d never felt before, a warmth spreading across her skin as she took in a quiet breath. It was thrilling, how happy he made her, so easily and effortlessly. No wonder she was so willing to accept just how quickly she’d fallen in love with him.

--

tags: @irwinkitten @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @valentinelrh @softforcal @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @imfuckin10plybud @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysidesblog @gorgeouslygrace @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @theagenderwhocriedwolf​ @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth​ @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @fluffsshawn​ @bloodmoonashton​ @vxidhood​ @tea4sykes @lukeinblue​ 

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Drop the lyric by lyric breakdown for Evie + Mirrorball & This Is Me Trying

 wellll if you insist lmao!  Putting this below the cut because like... no one deserves to have to scroll past the entire thing if they don’t want to lmao

I’m going to start with Mirrorball bc it’s more the overall vibes and some lyrics whreas This Is My Trying is like, every other lyric oof!

I want you to know I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself tonight

okay so like right off the bat, the idea of the mirrorball as a concept is very fitting to Evie — she exists in other people’s light and reflects everyone around her, especially early on.  We see this a lot with Blair, where Evie finds comfort in just existing in Blair’s world and mirroring her (but being nicer lmao) because as long as she’s a reflection of Blair, she isn’t Evie, and that protects her in a lot of ways.  She’s so terrified of not being enough and being hated and being judged that she finds comfort in that mask because if people don’t like her then it’s the mask that they don’t like, not Evie herself.  This is very much tied into her mental health issues and part of her recovery process is letting people see who she is without the mask

I'll get you out on the floor Shimmering beautiful And when I break it's in a million pieces

as I’m sure you know, “when I break, it’s in a million pieces” could basically sum up her entire story.  Evie manages to hold it together through a lot of really awful, traumatizing shit, but when she reaches her breaking point, she absolutely shatters.  Part of why most of the people who know she’s been in the Ostroff Centre are so surprised is because basically no one realized that she’s actually been breaking for a long time. 

Hush When no one is around, my dear You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you Hush I know they said the end is near But I'm still on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you

Okay so this obviously makes me think of my boy Theo bc he’s an angel, but it fits the two of them really well because Theo has always seen past Evie’s mask.  They’ve been best friends for their entire lives, and he’s really one of the few people that Evie trusts enough to be herself around!  No matter what happens, when it’s just the two of them (or with Eric lmao, we love our codependent children) she can really just let down all of her walls and be Evie, and “evie who feels safe enough to just be evie” is exactly who Theo fell in love with

I want you to know I'm a mirrorball I can change everything about me to fit in

Oof the way this fits her just hurts me tbh!  This goes back to what I was saying at the beginning, but Evie is an actress.  Prior to her breakdown, she had always intended to become an actress.  If there is one thing Evie can do, it’s pretend to be someone — anyone — else.  Whether it’s to fit in, or to protect herself, or just because she doesn’t know how to be herself, changing herself based on her surroundings is something that has become so natural to her that she doesn’t even realize she does it.

You are not like the regulars The masquerade revelers Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten

We’re going back to Theo with this, but frankly this also very much fits with Eric, Blair, and Chuck, even Nate, and tbh even Serena.  This is the Upper East Side; this is gossip girl.  Watching people falling or being torn apart is everyone’s favourite form of entertainment, and the more public, the better.  But Evie has this small group of people, her family, who don’t enjoy it.  Ivy Week, as you know, is the perfect example of how even the fights between the NJBC get put on hold for the sake of protecting the younger siblings.  Serena’s horror during the dinner with Georgina, Blair not sending the texts between Eric and Asher until Eric gives her the go-ahead, Chuck dropping everything whenever Evie is in trouble, Nate making a deal with Catherine to protect Theo, like... They’re all generally self-serving people who don’t hesitate to screw each other over, but all four of them will put aside any of their own issues and any fights they may be having in order to protect the babies — especially when it comes to protecting them from the rest of the UES society who would be all too happy to watch the golden children be torn apart

Hush When no one is around, my dear You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you Hush I know they said the end is near But I'm still on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you

(already broke this one down lmao)

And they called off the circus Burned the disco down When they sent home the horses And the rodeo clowns

This one is more the overall vibe than the specific lyrics but you know how I feel about Evie in the housewarming party episode and honestly this just makes me think of how it ends with Serena still pissed at Lily and Bart and now also pissed at Evie for “giving in” and trying to act like a family (as Evie would say, “Chuck and Eric are my family, it’s the three of you who need to step up to the plate”), and she storms out which leads to a very abrupt end to the party, with Evie still sitting on the couch just kind of frozen because she was trying so fucking hard to hold everyone together and to make this work and it still feels like it wasn’t enough, like she wasn’t enough

I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me

This takes on a bit of a double meaning for Evie because it fits really well with Evie wanting to be an actress and even during and after her breakdown, when she’s no longer sure if that’s what she wants, she still keeps going through the motions to work towards that goal because she really doesn’t know how else to be

But it also fits really well with Evie in her legal family (her bio family, the Van Der Basses, and the Van Der Humphreys) — Evie is always the one trying to put her own issues aside for the sake of her family.  She keeps quiet about things that hurt or upset her because she doesn’t want to cause problems, she’s the one who just quietly accepts Lily’s relationships no matter how much she hates them because she knows that at the end of the day, Lily will always put her boyfriends first.  Hell, when Lily and Rufus get closer, Evie tries to put her issues with Jenny behind her to make things easier for everyone else.  Even in S3 when Jenny is tormenting her at school (Evie is the queen and everyone knows it, and she’s managed to put a stop to a lot of the drama, but Jenny is still trying to overthrow her and bring back all the shitty politics so that she can be on top), Evie just quietly takes it and refuses to tell anyone or retaliate until Jenny goes after Eric.  

I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try

oof this is just... so Evie.  For people like the NJBC, all the politics and scheming and everything comes naturally, but so does the effortlessly flawless illusion they put up.  They turn seeming perfect into an art form, and the only time it takes any work is when they’re also trying to destroy each other.  Evie has never felt like she has that.  She doesn’t turn heads and part crowds just by walking into a room, she doesn’t have Serena’s magnetism or Blair’s ability to always get the last word, or Chuck’s “do not fuck with me” vibe, or Nate’s ability to convince people that he’s fine.  She tries so hard and always feels like she comes up short, but she just keeps trying.

“I’m still a believer but I don’t know why” also fits really well with both the fact that Evie always tries to see the best in people, even when they’ve hurt her, and the fact that no matter how many horrible, traumatizing things have happened to her, Evie tries so desperately to hold onto the hope that it’ll eventually be okay

I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything To keep you looking at me

I mean, this one honestly might be the most obvious?  Her eating disorder.  Going back to my last point, Evie doesn’t feel like she has the same natural magnetism or charisma as Serena and Blair.  She doesn’t have the ability to make everyone fall in love with her with a smile (at least in her mind; Theo would beg to differ).  She looks at her two older sisters who are just so stunning, at the way Blair always looks perfectly put together, at the way Serena can make being a mess look deliberate and desirable, and she feels like she always falls short in comparison, and she goes to dangerous lengths to try to achieve it.

Because I'm a mirrorball I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself Tonight

And woo okay then onto This Is Me Trying, be prepared for some Evie angst!

I've been having a hard time adjusting I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting

Okay so this sort of goes back to the last point I was making in Mirrorball, with how hard Evie tries to feel like she belongs in the UES, and more importantly how hard she tries to look like she belongs, and that while Evie was always the dreamer and the optimist, she’s starting to lose that as she gets older.

But quite frankly, this relates even more to Serena leaving.  Before that, Evie was always the hopeful one — no matter how flakey Serena got, no matter how often she bailed on her siblings for Georgina and a party, Evie always held onto the hope that Serena still loved them and would still be their sister again, eventually.  But then Serena left, without so much as a goodbye, and that dream shatters for Evie, and she gives up on that hope — and as you know, that plays a big role in her pre-canon breakdown, as does her inability to adjust to not having her sister around, however unreliable she might have been.

I didn't know if you'd care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that

Keeping with that last point, this is actually more Serena’s POV about Evie — with how she left things with them, especially with Evie (who she fought with just before meeting Georgina the night of the wedding), she really isn’t sure if Evie would actually want her to come back, and she really does regret the way everything happens (especially as she realizes that she really doesn’t fit into Evie’s family anymore)

Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could've followed my fears all the way down And maybe I don't quite know what to say But I'm here in your doorway

This is another bit that’s more about the vibes and images that it gives me than the specific vibe, but the first two lines here always give me the strong vibe of someone standing at the edge of a cliff or rooftop, trying to decide whether or not to jump, and that fits painfully well with Evie and how desperately she tried to hold on through everything that happened pre-canon, no matter how tempting it was to just give in and get away from it all. 

I just wanted you to know That this is me trying I just wanted you to know That this is me trying

Going back to Mirrorball, part of the tragedy of Evie Van Der Woodsen is just how hard she tries, at everything.  She tries to fit in, she tries to be perfect, she tries to be okay, she tries to just keep pushing through every single bad thing that’s happened to her, even as she’s falling apart behind her mask.

They told me all of my cages were mental So I got wasted like all my potential

Again, there are really two meanings to this when it comes to Evie.  First is just... Evie has a hell of a lot of issues, clearly, but people tend to be very dismissive of them.  Once upon a time, Evie used to actually reach out for help, only to get met with “poor little rich girl” and being brushed off because her life seemed so perfect, what could she have to be upset about it?  Eventually Evie starts to believe it too, and her own belief that she has no ‘real’ reason to be upset becomes a big part in her reaching her breaking point.

But also... There was a point when Evie tried to talk to Lily.  She tried to tell her about how not okay she was, and tried to ask Lily for help, but Lily just dismissed her because she wasn’t willing to take responsibility for her own role in Evie’s issues.  It became so consistent for a short period that eventually Evie found herself wondering if maybe she really was overreacting, which in turn led to her not asking anyone else for help or telling anyone else what was wrong — and unfortunately for Evie, this was such a pervasive element of her ongoing breakdown that ultimately no one would be able to help her with the rest of it without first helping her with this, and no one could help because she never told anyone else because she became convinced that she really was just being overly dramatic and sensitive

And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad I have a lot of regrets about that

I know I was just telling you about this (hence, I assume, this ask lmao) but like, this is very Evie.  Evie is the nice one.  Evie chooses to be the nice one.  She could easily destroy basically anyone with a text or two to Gossip Girl, but she actively chooses not to, because she doesn’t want to hurt anyone else the way she’s been hurt.  But when Evie does snap, she’s merciless.  She throws Serena leaving them back in her face when Serena starts talking about how Lily would leave without saying goodbye, she tells Lily that she’s even worse at being a mother than she is at being a wife, she tells Bart that if he wants them to act like a family then he should learn to act like a father, she tells Dan that his complaints about the UES would hold more weight if he were’t so desperate for the advantages that come with it... hell, she gets Chuck off the ledge of the roof by going straight for the kill and reminding him that he promised he wouldn’t leave her — and then by throwing in a “but then again, I’m used to people breaking their promises.”  And afterwards, she always regrets the things she says.  She feels like just because they’re hurting her doesn’t mean she needs to hurt them back.

But the best example I have of this is with Jenny.  In general, Evie does tend to lash out more at Jenny than at most other people, because Jenny hurts her more than most, but more specifically this goes back to what I was saying in Mirrorball about season 3.  Evie holds her tongue as Jenny torments her, because she doesn’t want to cause problems between everyone else.  But then Jenny goes after Eric and Jonathan, and Evie reaches that breaking point — and, well, Evie did learn from the best.  She’s well aware of Eric’s plan to steal her cotillion date, and she helps with that, but more importantly she stops Nate from stepping in.  She waits until the announcer has been informed that Nate will be escorting her and then asks Nate to talk and tells him what’s been going on with Jenny — Nate is furious on her behalf but also doesn’t want to leave Jenny without an escort, at which point Evie pulls out her phone to show him that Eric had just given her an all-clear, that Jenny’s turn had already gone.  Later Evie feels bad for humiliating Jenny like that, but as much as she regrets it, her bigger regret is that she knows that if she had a second chance, she would do the exact same thing.

I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere Fell behind all my classmates and I ended up here

Evie has always been the exception.  No freshmen at the masquerade — except Evie.  Ivy Week is for juniors — and Evie.  Cotillion is for juniors — and Evie.  So on, so forth.  Because of their connections to the NJBC, and their parents, the twins and Theo have always been able to be ahead of the rest of their classmates.  And most of the time Evie doesn’t mind it, she’d rather do all these things when she has Blair to help her.  But then you get to things like the s3 cotillion and, even though her own was absolutely perfect, watching all of her classmates go through the preparation without her leaves her feeling hollow and disconnected.

(tbh, as far as I’ve been able to tell — though I might be wrong — you can be presented at more than one cotillion, so Evie might end up persuading Lily to let her register again, despite having done it two years ago, more for the connection to her peers than for the actual cotillion aspect)

Pourin' out my heart to a stranger But I didn't pour the whiskey

I mean this one feels like it might seem a bit obvious with regards to pouring her heart out to her therapist, but in all honesty, she never really did.  What it really makes me think of is the scene in Poison Ivy, when Eric, Jenny, Theo, and Evie all talk, and Eric and Evie tell Jenny about the Ostroff Centre and everything.  At this point, Jenny is still basically a stranger to them, but for some reason they both end up opening up to her all the same

And as for “but I didn’t pour the whiskey”, it’s actually a very important part of Evie’s story!  Evie doesn’t drink anything harder than champagne — she’s seen Serena, she knows that Serena’s drinking is more of an addiction that she would ever admit, and she’s terrified of ending up like that, so she just doesn’t drink.  Right up until Chuck disappears after Bart’s funeral — and when Eric is trying to explain to Chuck that they’re still his family and they still want/need him in their lives, the first thing he says to try to drive home his point is to tell Chuck that Evie has started drinking.

I just wanted you to know That this is me trying I just wanted you to know That this is me trying At least I'm trying

(already talked about this!)

And it's hard to be at a party When I feel like an open wound

This is honestly just an overall vibe for Evie!  I don’t have a specific party in mind or anything (or I do but there are several — namely Jenny’s party, the opera, the housewarming, the masquerade, every thanksgiving, and like many more but I’ll leave it here for now) but Evie has a very hard time with being expected to go to these parties and be totally put together and play the perfect daughter even when she feels like she’s completely falling apart and just wants to curl up in bed for days

It's hard to be anywhere these days When all I want is you

This also applies to a few different situations, both romantic and platonic!  The first scene it made me think of was Jenny’s party, when Evie is still heartbroken over the breakup and then Jenny outs her and it’s just rough.  But it also makes me think of the White Party and how Evie is feeling guilty over her crush on Theo because like, ex boyfriends are off limits, and feeling weird and uncomfortable with Eric having brought Jenny despite the fact that things between Evie and Jenny haven’t gotten better since Jenny outed her.  Honestly though it also really makes me think of the opera in s2 but in a platonic sense, because Chuck is there and all Evie wants is to be able to talk to Chuck and really have her brother back, but Chuck is still holding her at arm’s length because of how guilty he’s feeling at this point for everything that’s happened since Bart’s funeral

You're a flashback in a film reel On the one screen in my town

This one gave me more White Party vibes, specifically with the moment that Evie sees Jenny and then Jenny saying hi, which is the first thing she’s actually said to her since the Outing Incident, and how hard it is for Evie because god she’s still so hurt and Jenny’s never even tried to apologize but then at the same time with Jenny there and Theo and Eric also there it’s too easy for her to feel like it was the beginning of Freshman year, when all four of them were the best of friends and almost a functional version of the NJBC and as much as Evie is still hurt and pissed she also just really misses the way things used to be, back even before any dating started within the group.

And I just wanted you to know That this is me trying (Maybe I don't quite know what to say) I just wanted you to know That this is me trying At least I'm trying

(already talked about this!)

And anyways, there are my lyric breakdowns for Evie Van Der Woodsen, now I’m feeling all sad about her again

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

Chuck, Becky, Leviathan, Cas, and writing endings

The new improved Becky is what happens outside of Chuck’s manipulations. Chuck didn’t have any more need for her in the story so she could just develop as her own person, not as a character. She went to therapy, she looked back to her past actions and mistakes with a clear critical eye, she dedicated her life to creating things that brought her joy, lived her passions in a healthy constructive way; she had a husband and kids... and Chuck makes everything disappear, in a terrible mirror of Amara disintegrating Metatron.

There was no real reason for Chuck to make Becky or her family disappear, just a whim; because she represents everything he and his writing are not and he does not understand.

He claims fans like monsters, like the Leviathan; she says fans like for the characters to talk, to have breaks from monsters to just live in domesticity. She represents fan fiction, of course, and he represents a certain way of doing storytelling, where characters are not given the space to talk and grow and heal. The Leviathan were a particular monster that represented an allegory for the lowest moment in Dean’s life and psyche (gosh, I had read such a great post about the topic many years ago but never found it again...). Also, the Leviathan were written as an anti-Cas figure, and Chuck deliberately leaves Cas out of his ending, leaves Cas away from the Winchesters. Also, the Leviathan represented Dean’s mental illness while Sam’s own was represented by his hallucinations of Lucifer, and Sam’s nightmare in this episode has a lot of Lucifer-Sam vibes.

So Chuck states to love the monster that represents all of Dean’s issues with identity and mental health, and who also represents the antithesis of Cas, and of course what Cas’ presence in Dean’s life means for him. Becky objects that the story the way Chuck wrote it is awful, because it’s too dark and hopeless; she also lists the absence of any mention of Cas as a flaw. Becky understands something about storytelling that Chuck doesn’t understand at all, as already highlighted by his favorable comment about the ending of Game of Thrones. Chuck thinks that the important thing is for a story to make the fan have some kind of emotional reaction, but he cannot see that there are good and bad emotional reactions to a story, especially an ending. It’s a discussion this fandom has had at the time of Charlie’s death (it can be read indeed as a reply to things that had been said at the time) and that other fandoms have gone through (The Magicians after Quentin’s death, for instance). The ending of Game of Thrones and Avengers Endgame have elicited a lot of emotional response, but overwhelmingly negative because of the objectively abysmal quality of the writing: fury and disappointment are a reaction, but not a good one, and arguably not better than no reaction (of course, if you only care about money, even bad reactions create revenue, but that’s a different matter).

Chuck does not understand that tragedy, that characters going through pain and terrible things, need to have a function, need to elicit specific emotional reactions in the fans, that are not anger and fury. The fans must not be left with a sense of betrayal, which is what happens when the story is just bleak and by the end you don’t really know which was the point of dedicating time and energy of your life to it.

Chuck wants to make the same kind of mistakes some very real storytellers of our time have been making. If the characters end up exactly the way there were at the beginning (may that be alone, sad, depressed, isolated, trapped in some abusive dynamic, what people said you’d be, what people feared you’d be, or even literally at the same period in time their journey started) what was the point of investing your enthusiasm and energies and time (and if you produce and/or consume fanworks, we’re talking about a lot of energies and time you invest overall in the thing!) in something that just... took these characters, made them suffer, and didn’t really do anything with that suffering?

And here’s the salt against Sera Gamble comes in. Because her stunt as a showrunner in this show is the closest the show has come to that kind of ending, the bleak hopeless ending where the characters just end up like they were at the beginning, having lost everything they had found during the journey.

Chuck insists with the Leviathan for this very reason. The Leviathan arc--which I adore in retrospect because it was not the end--represents the Worst(TM). It represents Dean’s issues condensed in one monster (while Sam’s hallucinations represents his).

(We interrupt our regular broadcasting to say something that has literally nothing to do with the topic of this post: what if they had left the head of the Leviathan inside Cas’ body instead of Dick Roman’s?? what would have the season been like?? We thank you for your attention and now return to our regular broadcasting.)

Fans liked the Leviathan, Chuck says. I think this can be translated to: fans like Dean the way he is Supposed To Be(TM), depression wrapped in identity issues wrapped in a bottomless pit of longing with no hope of filling wrapped in being trapped in unhealthy family dynamics that eat him up and everyone else wrapped in being “poison”. (That’s the Leviathan. Blackness with no appearance of its own, just a hungry mouth able to cannibalize itself, that puts poison in people’s food. Depression, lack of a solid identity, hunger/longing/disordered eating/etc, issues in interpersonal dynamics...)

If you widen the thing to the others too, you have Chuck channeling an attitude found in certain fandom circles: we want Dean and Sam with their issues, with their ~toxic codependency~, we don’t want them to grow and recover, we don’t want them to have other people in their lives, we don’t want their relationship to become healthy, because otherwise that wouldn’t be Supernatural.

Becky answers that that would be just a shitty ending. Most fans, the healthy ones, don’t want the dark hopeless ending, because that would just empty the whole story of meaning and significance. We don’t actually want the Leviathan, we want the anti-Leviathan, i.e. Cas, what Cas represented in season 7 and still does. The handpicked honey versus the poisoned corn syrup, the handmade sandwich versus the drug sandwich. The reversal of the dive into depression and suicidal attitude. Boning Dick together. Becky is us, the ones who understand the cathartic and folkloric function of storytelling, who get disappointed when white straight dudes with overlarge egos want to write edgy and ~surprise the audience~ (because the audience saw the character development and patterns and foreshadowing, so they decide to ignore all of that and do something different). Becky wants the story to go beyond the monsters and focus on the relationships and the ways the characters can grow and put themselves back together after the plot shattered them.

Stretching it a little--Chuck says Gamble rights and Becky says Carver rights. The dark hopeless ending won’t do, storytelling rules say we need to take our characters apart but then we need to put them back together (over and over, if the show gets renewed, of course, but still). I’m very looking forward to the next episode because from what we’ve gotten from the promo, there’s some heavy callbacks to the Mark of Cain arc. We talk about the Carver era tomorrow...

[angrycowboy]

Re-watching 1x11, I wrote a bit about Maria & Michael at the Crashdown, because it’s definitely an interesting little dynamic being set up.

Maria walks by Michael, and doesn’t acknowledge him. We saw her shut him down in 1x10, and this feels like it’s her establishing that boundary and trying to keep it.

“I just didn’t recognize you in the daylight.”

I mean, that line is hilarious. It’s already been well established that Michael spends A LOT of time at the Wild Pony. They’ve got a good rapport going, he runs up a tab, he gets into bar fights, he gets arrested to get out of paying his bar tab, she threatens to ban him - it doesn’t happen/it doesn’t stick.

And yeah, their banter is definitely off, but that’s not even surprising since no doubt Maria is trying to maintain a boundary out of respect for Alex.

“Alex is skipping it too. Guess he spent enough time there during high school.”

And that is definitely a dig at Michael, while also reminding him that yeah, she and Alex have talked and yeah, she knows about them because she’s Alex’s best friend.

There is a certain aspect to outing Michael that I’m uncomfortable with in the talk Michael has at the bar with Maria in 1x10, but it’s also unavoidable given that Maria feels she needs to establish that boundary since she didn’t know about Michael & Alex’s relationship before, and now that she does there definitely will not be anything happening between them again. It’s the only ammunition she has to drive that point home. She’s reeling from being put in this uncomfortable spot.

“It’s over. It’s been over. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

And to really understand Michael’s words here, you have to look at his and Alex’s conversations in 1x09 and 1x10.

At the Wild Pony in 1x09, Alex told Michael it was over (“Sometimes the world ends in a whimper”). In the junkyard at the end of the episode, Alex used the word “loved” for both of them.

And even I still get caught up on how Alex said, “I wanna talk. I wanna start over. I wanna… I don’t know… be friends?” like he wasn’t quite sure that was the right word. But the sentiment is the same - he still doesn’t break eye contact with Michael when he says “yes” about getting to know him, because he does. He wants to see if they do this right, if they go slow, if there is more than that unexplainable, cosmic connection they feel for each other.

But that means friendship, as Maria follows up with, “You’re not exactly the arbiter of friendship.”

And she’s right. Because Michael Guerin has no idea how friendship works. Hell, he’s probably never had a healthy relationship, platonic or romantic or otherwise, in his life. He’s spent most of his life alone, basically just surviving, the only people he was close to were Max & Isobel - and the three of them were thrown together by circumstance more than anything (and let’s be real, the three of them have an unhealthy codependency on one another).

So when Alex says he wants to start over, he wants to be friends, he wants to “talk later” in 1x10, that’s still triggering something completely different in Michael’s head. Even if Alex needed time to process (which is a completely valid reason when shown the console of a alien spaceship tbh), Michael is only seeing Alex walk away again. Leave him again.

And Maria’s words are meant to hurt Michael - she’s trying to make him understand that it’s a shitty thing to sleep with the best friend of the guy you’ve been in love with for 10 years. It’s putting her, and her friendship with Alex, in an awkward position, and she is not okay with that. 

[blurhawaii]

Yuletide 2019

dear yuletide writer,

hello and happy yuletide! this is my fifth year taking part and my longest letter yet so i’m just going to jump right in. the suggestions are guidelines. if you’ve got a great idea, go for it. i only ask that you steer clear of my dislikes.

feel free to go through my tumblr for each of these fandoms. i should have tags for them, tho your mileage may vary. i might even have more stuff on my side blog: here. likes:

dysfunctional relationships eg. codependency, messed up father/son dynamics, enemies to lovers, power imbalances.

found family

big loyalty kink. love it when trust is earned and kept.

praise kink

vulnerability in men

open and honest communication between partners

i love ot3s. it’s the journey of them getting together and making it work that interests me the most. or how an established pair goes about bringing in a third person.

stories set in canon. or a divergence of canon.

dark/bleak fics. don’t be afraid to drag characters through the mud. happy endings are welcome but i like the struggle.

i’m fine with anything from gen to porn but would be happiest with something in the middle. i love first times.

canon typical violence is fine and to be expected from some of my choices of fandoms.

detective stories/film noir

magical realism/cosmic horror. weird hints of it in an otherwise normal universe

redemption arcs

characters and relationships are more important than plot for me

dislikes:

AUs that are completely disconnected from canon e.g. coffee shop AUs.

established relationships

crossovers

genderbending

feminisation of male characters

fics that are entirely fluff

A/B/O fics

PWP

mpreg 

scat/watersports

first person fics (i have no problem with second person fics tho if you think that could work. they really wow me when done well.)

The Departed (2006) *Billy Costigan             *Sean Dignam

one of my favourite films ever. i request it every year so you can't really go wrong with this as i am thirsty for anything. most of my love is for dignam and his tough love attitude towards his job and the undercovers he's responsible for. it's obvious he cares, i don't think you could do a job like that and not care, but those rare and few moments when he softens around billy --we need you, pal-- that's what i would like to see more of. i have written a couple of departed fics myself, centred around costigan/dignam, but in all honesty, i would be happy with anything involving them both. shipping is preferred but whatever you are comfortable with is fine. due to the nature of the film, i am perfectly comfortable with violence and the screwed up relationship they are bound to have. the friction born of the situation vs the fact that they need each other to get through this is what i am all about.

codependency, power imbalances and enemies to lovers tropes are abound here.

fics where billy lives are my usual go-to. the survivability of being shot in the head, that kind of stuff can be hand waved away in fic, and i'd love something that explores the angst of billy's ‘where the hell were you when i needed you’ reaction towards dignam following that ending.

or a canon divergence fic with their totally antagonistic relationship being front and centre. i just ask that there be an underlying level of affection, no matter how buried. when billy is undercover, there’s a special kind of relationship that comes with dignam and queenan being the only people he can talk to.

something i’ve never seen for this but would actually love: a time loop/groundhog day fic

Jurassic Park Original Trilogy (Movies)

*Sarah Harding                  *Ian Malcolm                  *Nick Van Owen

i originally wasn’t going to ask for this again this year (i was lucky enough to get treated with a fic a couple of years ago) but then someone other than myself nominated nick van owen which surprised and delighted me and i figured why the hell not.

my passion here is the ot3 potential. i view these three in the same way i view the trio in the first film, meaning i see them as three people who have bonded over a traumatic experience and come out of it forever linked in some way. they spend the entire film looking out for each other and keeping each other safe, and they all separately take care of ian’s daughter at one point and i am fascinated by this and how that could continue in the future. (in fact, i love stories where adults treat kids like adults, not talking down to them–see any shane black film.) i’m looking for an actual relationship between them but would be happy with anything that showcased a connection with every side of this triangle.

anything post-film with them dealing or not dealing with what happened would be amazing. there are quite a few fics based around this idea for the first film’s trio, i’d love to see something like that for these three. (i’ve always been kind of bitter about the way nick just disappears for the last act but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ that’s what fics are for, i guess.)

i don’t like the jurassic world films but i’m fine with fics that take that future into account. a lot of the trauma for these characters comes from the idea that the parks still exist and continue to fuck people up.

Godless (TV 2017)

*Roy Goode                 *Bill McNue                 *Alice Fletcher

i’m a massive fan of westerns. the harsh way of life, the violence, the isolation, drawn out revenge plots, the murkiness of good vs evil or sheriff vs anti-hero, the importance of honour and heroism and how that differs for men and women, especially in this universe with its town full of widows. having said all that, i’m still very much a sucker for cool cowboys in a shallow female way.

as you’ve probably already gathered my favourite thing is turning every love triangle into an ot3. so i’d love a fic post canon where roy comes back after realising found family is just as important as real family despite frank’s influence. i imagine bill would try to do the gentlemanly/self depreciating thing of bowing out and letting roy and alice be together but i’d love for alice to actually get a say in this where she wasn’t allowed in the show. however you jigsaw them together my main thing is that bill doesn’t get left out.

i feel the roy/bill aspect in particular could be explored a lot more. i love that they don’t hate each on sight. they learn mutual respect and then smoothly move around each other during the gunfight at the end. (bill’s deteriorating eyesight side plot also fascinates me, how it goes with his loss of purpose -”losing his shadow”- and comes back when teaming up with roy to defend the town. maybe there’s a fic possibility where it flares up again due to his insecurity of roy coming between him and alice. either way, the hints of magical realism here and with frank’s repeated insistence that he’s seen his death and this ain’t it are great and i wouldn’t mind seeing more of that.)

the usual ideas of western masculinity get all twisted around when roy and bill are in the presence of alice and they both seem kind of subby towards her, which yes please. the way alice kisses the scar she gave roy and the fact that he simply lets her is *chef kiss* because i also love the parallel that bill got shot in the hip trying to get revenge for alice. they all have scars that tie them together.

i’m actually very okay with letting them be soft with each other after all of their tragedy.

honest communication between partners could work wonders here.

Barry (TV 2018)

*Barry Berkman                     *Monroe Fuches

i expected to like this show. dark comedy, depressed hitman, henry winkler, it’s a perfect combination of things. i didn’t expect to get obsessed with barry’s obvious fucked up father-figure hangups. but hey ho, i was pleasantly surprised.

pretty much every one of barry’s relationships in this show has an element of fucked-upness but the barry/fuches one is by far the worst. it’s codependent, it’s manipulative, it’s a little abusive, the power is constantly flip-flopping and most importantly there’s the father/son dynamic that could so easily tip over into something sexual. it’s everything i love. any time fuches calls barry “his boy” it kills me. and i am fascinated by the way barry can go from needy and touch starved to a rampaging killer hunting fuches down by the end and still have that dynamic going strong.

the parallels between them and the barry/gene cousineau relationship, which is fucked up too just in a very different way, are great. love the jealousy it brings and i would even be into a fic set post the season 2 ending, if you could find a way to swing that. though, while i like a little darkness, i would still rather see them fall back into old unhealthy habits than kill each other.

any kind of prequel fic would be amazing too.

and just to be clear i’m more than okay with a sexual relationship between these two but if you don’t want to write it that’s fine. I’d just like all the other aspects of their shitty relationship delved into.

L.A. Confidential (1997)

*Bud White                         *Ed Exley

pretty much all of my bullet pointed likes come into play here. i’ve nominated two characters but i’d be happy with almost any combination of the characters available in the tagset as long as exley is involved in some way.

ships i like: bud/exley,  exley/vincennes,  bud/exley/lynn

but if we matched purely on both bud and exley then:

i love the opposites attract partnership bud and exley have and i like that they both seem angry at their attraction to each other. hate-sex with reluctant feelings? always good. i'd love anything that deals with their perceived difference in intellect and/or education. bud being turned-on by exley's smarts, exley realizing how much he's underestimated bud, them being mutually impressed by each other.

if you choose to go down the ot3 route then:

i love fics where exley shows up in arizona and they fall into weird domesticity. i love seeing how three people--especially three people who aren't used to the idea of poly relationships--work their way towards realizing and accepting what they want.

and while i’m not sure what you could do with this knowledge, i’d just like to add that i’ve read the book and i’m somewhat obsessed with the existence of dream-a-dreamland in general. if you could incorporate that in any way i’d be hugely impressed.

POKEMON Detective Pikachu (2019)

*Harry Goodman                        *Hide Yoshida

this is totally a last minute request that i’ve edited in but is by no means less wanted than the others. i watched this film back when it came out and was honestly surprised by how much i enjoyed it. i’m a massive pokemon fan and have been since i got my pokemon red when i was seven years old and, let me tell you, getting to see all those growlithes waddling about the real world was like a childhood dream come true.

i had a good time and i moved on.

a few days ago i stumbled on a piece of art : here : and it was like the little goblin that is my brain just sat up straight. the very concept of these characters together had never crossed my mind before that but then suddenly the desire for this just casually strolled through my entire headspace, turning on every light as it went.

i love detective stories, i love cop partnerships, i love hot single dads who happen to be cops with cute little pokemon cop partners. i love that harry is kind of a shitty father but he’s now trying his best. i love that hide had nothing but praise and respect for harry when he meets with tim and that he knew things like tim wanting to be a pokemon trainer when he was younger (meaning he and harry had talked about stuff like this.) i love that hide inexplicably has a spare key to harry’s apartment in his desk drawer. i love how absolutely certain hide was in saying harry loved his son more than anything in the world.

there’s history there is what i’m saying, and i’d love to know more about it.

anything set pre-film would be cool. loose cannon harry throwing his whole being into his job to deal with the loss of his wife and his fractured relationship with his son. hide the tired lieutenant trying to rein him in, quietly talking about tim together, keeping him grounded and safe. all up until he can’t, that is. (great angst potential with hide genuinely believing harry is dead.)

anything set post-film would be even better. harry struggling to find balance between being a father and a cop. probably doing a shitty job at it in the beginning. hide trying to help. would love for tim to be an actual presence (outsider POV could be amazing here.)

may sound strange but my favourite thing that used to happen in digimon a lot is when characters would interact with each other digimon partner. i would be massively into a fic about the two of them growing closer through each other’s pokemon partner.

thank you writer and best of luck.

[dailymemori]

lolol how can you still ship memori after that

man I was just gonna answer this with a meme but then like the amount of Bad Takes I’ve seen regarding memori lately had me all worked up earlier so. sorry for,,, all of this.

disclaimer: as far as shipping them goes? I’ll be first in line to say that where they’re at right now is not a healthy place to be in a romantic relationship, so I have no issue with them not being together atm. do I still love these two characters? do I still enjoy when they have scenes together? do I still have hope for their relationship in the future? YES. but I also recognize that they have a lot of shit to work out first.

with THAT out of the way, let’s get ready to suffer.

so the question is- how can I ship memori after “that”? I’m assuming “that” is the latest episode, and probably That One Scene in particular, which people have had a lot of strong opinions about, especially re: emori. and I’m sorry if I’m totally misreading your ask, anon, but it definitely comes across as “how can you still ship memori after emori did that”

because a lot of people are reading that scene as her only loving murphy when he’s strong and not when he’s weak which is….. a leap. to me that wasn’t about her not loving him when he’s weak- that was about her loving him even when he’s falling apart and putting her down, but also knowing that she deserves better than that, and that he needs to work on himself before their relationship can work.

i see people saying that she just wants him to hurry up and get better, that she isn’t trying to help him through his low points, or that she’s tearing him down instead of building him up. which, aside from having a slight “broken boy needs a girl to put up with his shitty behavior and ”“fix”“ him” vibe to it, it’s also just…. not accurate imo?

in 5x06 we had a whole conversation that explained that emori only ended things with murphy after he pushed her away “again and again and again” until she had no choice. to me, that doesn’t sound like someone who just gave up on him as soon as he hit a rough patch. that doesn’t sound like someone who doesn’t care about him at his worst. that sounds like someone who tried, repeatedly, over and over and over, to stick with him through his bad days and understand why he was acting the way he was. but he wasn’t letting her. and that probably came from his own misplaced feelings that she didn’t need him anymore, that she was somehow better off without him, which is what made him push her away. and eventually, emori had enough. she put her own well being first, which does not make her the Bad Guy here.

you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. isn’t that a “thing” on this show? idk sounds familiar to me. emori can’t single handedly “fix” murphy if he continues to push her away, and especially if he doesn’t make any effort to change. I don’t want anyone to think I’m unsympathetic to murphy’s struggles this season. I GET IT, I really do. mental health issues and self esteem issues can cause all kinds of shit in relationships. I’m not saying murphy is wrong or weak for being affected by that. the problem is when people try to use that as an excuse, instead of as an explanation. and on the flip side, love can help and love can heal, but love isn’t a magic cure. the idea that emori didn’t love him enough to fix him is ridiculous.

even in this episode, murphy wasn’t trying to work on himself, he was just trying to make things go back to the way they were before, to be the “old” murphy that emori fell in love with. i get it, that boy was doing the MOST. he was checking all the boxes. they were pulling a con in the woods. they were gonna be a team again. they were going to save raven, which is something he knows emori wants so badly. instead of insulting her new skills or being bitter about them, he’s making those skills an integral part of the plan. he just saw that drawing of the rocket scene, where some of emori’s (potentially) last words to him were “survive, please.” so he’s throws that into conversation as well. did you HEAR the way he says “survive” in that scene?? he’s trying so hard to remind her, to say “see?? remember?? us surviving together??” they even do their “okay? okay.“ thing.

but she doesn’t bite.

she’s in for his plan, but not for anything beyond it.

and a surprisingly large part of fandom hates her for that. I think a little part of it is that weird concept that if man is interested in a woman, then she should at least "give him a chance”, regardless of whether or not she’s interested in him. which is bullshit but also unfortunately part of society. so I guess it’s actually not surprising to me that people are all over emori for not immediately taking him back. people read that as “oh she’s only in love with the "old” john or the “strong” john or she only wants him when he’s fighting. he’s obviously trying to be that way again, so why is she still acting like a bitch???“

thing is, he’s not acting like the old fighting-to-survive john because he’s made a decision to do that for himself, but because he thinks that’s what emori wants him to do. he even says it. "I thought this is what you wanted.”  he’s being the “old” john again. he’s trying to survive. why isn’t that enough?

the point is, he can’t be “old” john again. emori may have fallen in love with that “old” version of john, but that isn’t the john that’s standing in front her in that moment. and she’s not the same person she was then either. in the words of literally every cast member, six years is a LONG TIME. they’re both different people than they were back in those “its us against the world” days. and while murphy seems to think that if he acts a certain way and does certain things, then they can go back to that… emori isn’t falling for it. she’s grown beyond that codependency and he resents/is jealous of that. that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want him anymore, because there’s clearly still attraction there, but she’s not going to put herself and their relationship through this cycle again.

she can’t just pretend that him acting like the old john again is going to fix everything. things between them have changed. there’s trust that’s been broken there. “old” john didn’t put down her skills, or insult her, or push her away, or break her heart, or punish her for having a life outside of him. that’s the “new” john. that’s the john she’s facing in this scene. she knows that he needs to work on himself, that he needs to want to be better for HIMSELF, not for her, or he’s just going to fall apart again after this fight. she doesn’t see there being a change in that cycle. and no matter how much they still love each other, he can’t be dependent on her for his own stability, and she shouldn’t have to be that sole source for him.

can they still get back to a place where being together is healthy for them? i certainly think and hope so. but there’s a lot that needs to happen first, and right now they’re not at that point.

trust me I could go on and on about this subject because there are SO MANY MORE LAYERS to this situation and I didn’t even come close to fully breaking down any of it really but hopefully this made,,, at least a little bit of sense. obviously this is just how I’m viewing the whole situation so like, I’m not trying to say this is the only way or the “right” way to interpret it. everyone has their own experiences that shape how they view stories like this and that’s absolutely valid.

ANYWAY I’m… so sorry…. this turned into a ridiculously long ramble about the way fandom is treating this arc/memori in general and not an answer to the original question, which was…… how can I still ship memori after all that?

well, the Deep, Intellectual, Eloquent, Morally Correct reason is….

[catsdaydreams]

A small rant about crossing oceans

This is a longish rant and my read more link isn’t working. I’m sorry💔

A little backstory is required, but this is personal stuff that I just need off my chest. I needed to tell literally anyone, and maybe you need to hear it.

I have severe abandonment issues. I grew up in a semi abusive home, some physical, most emotional, but none intentional, and my dad and I have addressed those issues and moved forward. We have a very healthy and close relationship now. I love my dad probably more than anyone else in the world. Apart from my kid of course. However, as a kid I idolized the mother that abandoned me. I blamed my dad, said he was the reason she stop calling in my birthday, why she never visited or called, why I always had to go to her. (14 hr drive so rarely at that) this is normal. Kids believe in the best of people, it’s their beauty. My brother lived with my mom and never learned how to be an adult (my mom also has no idea how to parent, so I dodged the codependency bullet that hit my older brother). He’s 30, I’m 22.

I try to fix people too much, so my older brother still living jobless with my mom at 28 really bothered me. I invited him to live with me, where there was a decent job market (his semi reasonable excuse for not having one) so he could get on his feet and in his own apartment. I was 20 at the time and had a very stable and successful life. I had a ahouse, a family, a well off job. I got lucky, but I also recognize that I did have to work for what I had. My brother moved in and basically lived off us, used my car when his broke, I handed him a nice job that he lost, and then I handed him the job that he worked until he left. He payed rent for the first year, moved into an apt, his roommate bailed and he ended up back with us. No rent this time (we thought it would only be a month or two) and we even loaned him the money to buy a working car. In the end we got shafted. He lived with us for 2 years, gave me shit about literally everything and made me the bad guy when I tried to “control his life” (I tried to tell him that he was making awful financial decisions that is too long to go into here) and if I asked him to clean his room and his bathroom i was the worst person ever, and “it’s my room and bathroom just don’t go in it.” He even used this line when we were showing our house to sell. It was pulling teeth to get him to be part of the household and at least hold up his end of the chores. He just moved out last week because we’re under contract to close next month. I asked him to vacuum his room and clean the handprints off the wall and clean his bathroom before he left. He not only didn’t do it but left trash everywhere as well. This stresses me out.

On top of this my mother. I realized slowly that my mom abandoned me, and that it was 100% her choice unlike she had previously told me. She never had the time/money to make it down to visit even though I begged her. She had a stroke a couple weeks ago. I always knew my brother was her favorite, but I didn’t realize just HOW much until this last week. When I had my son my mom was supposed to help me during post partum. I almost died giving birth, and it was rough. She stayed for 3 whole days before she left with some excuse about a doctors apt she couldn’t reschedule. It is what it is.

However when my brother decided to move back home because we were selling the house and explained that we couldn’t afford a house with an extra room (mostly a lie, we just were hoping he’d get his apt back and live his life without a crutch.) so he’s moving back in with my mom. My mother drove down three times, after just having a stroke to help my 30 year old brother move(which ended up being pointless because he literally only has a few things and bought a uhaul anyway) and to drive him back here from home to get his 2nd car (that he can’t afford but w.e.) she broke down on the way here, and hit a Deer on the way back. That plus gas money and now her and my step dad can’t afford a few of their bills.

All because my older brother can’t get his fucking shit together.

And I’m hurt. Hurt that my brother literally gives zero fucks about anyone other than himself. He knows that mom just had a stroke. He doesn’t care. We helped him and all he did was moan and whine about having to pay us back and keep his room from becoming beyond salvagable.

Im hurt that my mom couldn’t be bothered to put more than an ounce of effort into our relationship but would cross the world for my brother.

I was ranting to my dad and explaining how much this was hurting me, even though I wasn’t surprised, and my dad told me something about not crossing oceans for people who wouldn’t do the same to you.

Which brings me to the point

I will enevitably help my mom cover her bills if my pos brother can’t/won’t. I’ll help her get her van fixed and keep the lights on, even if she probably wouldn’t do it for me. Because she’s my mom. And if the time comes and my brother asks me for help, ill do it. I’ll help him as best as I can, to the extent that he’ll let me because he’s my brother.

And not because of some higher calling that you should be there for your family because I don’t think that.

But because family is important to me. Because I want that from my parents, and siblings and kids. If the roles were reversed I’d want someone who loved me so unconditionally that they would try to help me if they could. Because crossing oceans for people is important. And I think it’s even more important to cross oceans for people who wouldn’t do the same for you.

Because someday they’ll realize the truth. That they were helped, and probably didn’t deserve it. And they’ll pass that on to someone else. And make this world a little less shitty. And maybe they won’t. Maybe they’ll live their whole lives and never think anything of it. But I’ll know. I’ll never feel like it’s my fault if they have issues or failures. And I also know that I’m not responsible for their failures. And maybe everyone doesn’t look at it that way, but I do.

I will always cross oceans for people. ESPECIALLY the ones who wouldn’t do it for you.

[thoughts-writing-film-art]

A Small Memoir of Social Anxiety Trauma and Depression of my Twelve to Seventeen Year Old Self Part Two

What was it like knowing Kat Dawson well let me give you some perspective.

Kat is like a ball weight on angle of any one she gets close to dragging other down and drowning them in her emotional abuse, smothering them with her constant negativity and jealousy She pulls you down to the deepest depths of the ocean in to the black void of the bottom of the seafloor to suffocate. She strangled you like a python with her latching on to you digging her razor fangs into your neck  as she show you the vertical slits on her wrist she cut with a blade the night before so you’ll pity her and tell her she has a reason to live  but deep down she know she does not.

She’s as impulsive as a jack in the box you never know when she going to spring into a psychotic break down and surprise you with a call saying she wants to wrap cable cords around her neck and die.Well she unfortunately never succeeded in her many suicide attempts. She was terrible at killing herself.She was really shitty at as in the course of our fake friend she’d attempted numerous times.It’s like when on the news when they report a school shooting  at first it’s shocking but then after the tenth time you think o she tried to kill herself again anything else new ?

I remember one day she was looked terrible with dark circles under her eyes  hair tattered  messy and wearing all black.I  asked her what was wrong she wouldn’t say a word.

Then she opened her mouth to speak and croaked, “ I swallowed a bottle of bleach last night.”

I thought she was so reckless and I cried, attempting to hug her but she pushed me away.

I can’t believe felt bad  actually cared or believed her .She didn’t deserve my kindness my compassion or my attention whatsoever.She didn’t deserve me or my friendship.

I was 14 years old when first had sex. I remember the night vividly. Kat was spending the night at my house and we were in my bedroom and I was crying heartbroken that night over my first girlfriend Rebecca You see her parents didn’t approve of her being bisexual and I felt like a criminal my crime being her first lesbian girlfriend. That night with Kat I was broken down crying tears running down my face like a waterfall it was my first experience of love and I was vulnerable I just wanted to be loved.

Kat hugged me and ran her fingers through my hair consoling me. Then she slipped her finger into me and asked me,

“How does this feel ?”

I was fragile and desperate for the relationship I had just lost so I thought this gesture was the beginning of a new one. I thought it meant she loved me and wanted to make me feel better. She kissed me softly and put my head between her legs telling me exactly where to touch her.  She made me take control as she said she was submissive and I was to be the dominant one even when I am not dominant at all. Her touch dried my tears and I felt loved by best friend.

A week later a mutual friend sat me down and told me,

“You know what  you did to Kat could be considered rape.”

Rape. Are you fucking joking?

She touched me,

She kissed me,

She put her hands in me,

And she took advantage of me.

But the worst thing she did was make me believe it and say she forgave me.

I was forgiven for raping Kat when was the one who had instigated it in the first place.

I was manipulated into believed in had raped my “best friend”.

Me ?!

I felt like I had to repent and make it up to her, I wanted her to stop hating her I was starving for her forgiven and friendship as she was all I  I had and all I thought deserved.  

I remember one day after school outside of the library I confronted her asking what I could to make forgive what she wanted me to do.

She manically replied,  

“You want to know how I feel Hallie? I feel like this”

Then she ran into the parking lot heading for the busy street of Via Linda. She almost made it into traffic I wish I had let her get hit and ran over by ten cars. But I chased after her and stopped her apologizing, begging her to stop and not go into the street. Being friends with her felt like I was in the middle of a busy highway off the end of a cliff.First I get ran over by her negativity and emotional abuse and then I  fall of a cliff into the abyss of my guilt over the crime she insists I committed.

Kat traumatized me.

I would have nightmare in which she’d be in my room in my house and especially in my head I would wake up for months crying my eyes out as though I had be choked.

She choked the life out of me and kicked mud into my face when I was already down on the ground.I was already depressed from all the rejection all the bullying that I had experience in school. I was already an outcast from everyone in my middle school walking from lunch table to lunch table wanting a place to sit for the 30 minutes of free time we had between classes.

I thought I had found my friends but she was not a friend she was toxic. She made me relive all the rejection and bullying I had struggled with in middle school just in the high school across the parking lot.

Before she accused me of rape while we were still “best friends” we would go to the JCC for BBYO together. We would ditch the meeting and go outside and one night I was crying again over Rebecca again under the stairs outside because it was where I had had my first kiss with her. I was again heart broken Kat was with me and put arm around me she said to me,

“It’s seems like you have a lot of built of anger you know if it would make you feel better you can punch me. I’m a black belt and I’ve spotted people and been punched before so you won’t hurt me. Get it all out right here right now.”

I replied,

“No I don’t want to hit you I don’t want to hurt you at all I don’t want to hurt and one.”

Not until a year after the all the accusations Kat made of me did I realize what that was what she was trying to do that day.

I knew exactly why she want me to punch her.

For evidence.

She wanted me to bruise her turn her stomach black and blue so she could have proof that I pinned her down, violently punched her, and raped her. She was trying to frame me so people would believe her when she cried wolf

When she cried “Hallie raped me”.

I’m glad I never gave her that satisfaction even though now I’d gladly beat her to a pulse if I could.She wanted to be prepared for all the attention and pity she would get from people when she showed them the marks I left on her. To show how I had really fucked her up.

To create a more convincing lie .But I didn’t give her that. Things didn’t go as she had planned that night.

A week later she sewed a scarlet R onto all my clothes.

R for Rapist.

She told all our friends I had raped her I was hated all over again.  She had her puppets she called friends bully me and scream in my face that I should be ashamed of myself for what I did to Kat I was a monster. She convince all of the people in our friend group that I had hurt her.

No one would talk to me just look at me like I was a convicted sexual predator who hurt their dear sensitive friend Kat. They had such disgust in their eyes they loathed me and ignored me.

It was worse when some of those friends would say they forgave me and would continue being friends with me regardless like Sabrina.

Sabrina is an idiot pet of Kat’s or in lighter words her best friend Sabrina chases Kat around like an eager puppy and was always there to comfort her even though Kat would treat her like a trash and dispose of her from time to time Sabrina would beg Kat on her hands and knees to be her friend again.

Sabrina is Kats emotional punching bag  that always bounces back for another hit.

Sabrina relationship with Kat was severely codependent, she had no self no autonomy and no spine. I think she believed she would be nothing without Kat as she looked up to her and put her on a high horse pedestal.

Sabrina at the time was also my close friends before the damage was done We’d have sleep over at each other house and go trick or treating together. I thought she was a sweet girl and a nice friend but again I had been wrong.

She was throwing a birthday party for her 15th birthday in May six month after what happened with Kat  and Sabrina had remained friends with me. She handed me an invitation to her pool party and a week later sent me a text saying :

“Hey Hallie I’m sorry but can you not come to my birthday party Kats going to be there and she said she wouldn’t come if you were there.”

Sabrina didn’t want to make Kat feel uncomfortable of course.  Kat would be scared because I’m the girl who raped her right.That text made it immediately clear to me that Kat was more important than me that her feeling of security was he priority and I never spoke to Sabrina again.

I was so hurt that after half a year of all that it was happening that it was still ruining my friendships.Sabrina was the last leaf on the tree of friends I had to fall.

Hallie Nicole Pahl