#I love how the people I trust grow to use me as the butt of the joke because I never fight back

[sanaexus]

social's as shidou's girlfriend

-liked by itoshi_sae, isaichii and 145.7k others

yourusername: i feel bad for rin this mf don't even go easy on his on girl

tagged: shiidoryu

shiidoryu: they say all is fair in war and love ↳itoshi_sae: it's love and war fucking idiot ↳shiidoryu: you love me 🥺👉👈 ↳yourusername: mate IN MY FUCKING COMMENTS? ↳shiidoryu: you're saving as if i don't eat that pussy every night ↳yourusername: blocked. reported. I FUCKING HATE YOU??? ↳chigi.who: woah guys maybe like don't do that here??

nikkoki: why the last image. ↳yourusername: why not 🙁 ↳megubachi: for gits and shiggles 🥰 ↳rin.itoshi: that's not the fucking quote?? ↳megubachi: and you're not the best striker so stafu ↳rin.itoshi: TAJTS SO UNNNESCARY?? ↳isaichii: look at rin finally genz-ing w the spelling errors and capital letters ↳hiyori: feels like yesterday he was js a little baby ↳megubachi: they grow up too fast ↳rin.itoshi: you guys are my 13th reason.

shiidoryu: si 💔you💔won't💔mention💔the💔part💔where💔i💔 bought💔you💔icecream💔and 💔then💔talked💔sjit💔ab 💔your💔ex💔 ↳yourusername: and you're not gonna mention the part where we had the bet who could swing the fastest and i won bc you fell on your butt and felt like you were ab to throw up so you HAD to get me icecream? ↳shiidoryu: #donttakltomeiamdespressed #betryaedbymyowngf #emo ↳karasu_tabito: HE FELL ON HIS ASS? DO YOU HAVE THE RECORDING I'LL PAY FOR IT ↳yourusername: bet how much we talking? ↳karasu_tabito: enough to buy another shidou prolly ↳yourusername: check your dms ↳eita.otoya: are we buying people from the black market ↳kenyu.yukimiya: no we are not the fuck?

-liked by kuniisuke, megubachi and 159.4k others

shiidoryu: i actually do love my girl and i don't always act gay

tagged: yourusername

julian.loki: "i actually do love my girl" proceeds to try to throw her into a garbage can ↳mikka.kaiser: fucking dustbin you mean? ↳hiyori: OH MY GOD U REMIND ME AB LINDASY FROM MY 4TH GRADE CLASS WHO USED TO NITPICK ON EVERYONE FOR THERE ENGLISH ↳mikka.kaiser: their* ↳isaichii: stfu it's called a trashcan ↳kuniisuke: i think we're straying off topic BC THAT'S A WHOLE AHH HUMAN THAT'S GOING TO BE PUT ON A FUCKING DUSTBIN ↳mikka.kaiser: in* ↳oliver.aikyu: i swear to fucking god i will ↳alexis.ness: nuh uh ↳yourusername: MAN KUNIGAMI AND OLIVER THE ONLY REAL ONES FR ↳oliver.aiku: we gotchu girl ↳kuniisuke: second that except in a less gay manner ↳julian.loki: SHE'S BEING PUT IN TRASH. ↳rin.itoshi: she's fine. shidou has that trash tan all the time ↳megubachi: i think she's okay considering how ego roams around with that garbage ahh haircut ↳isaichii: that trash can't be worse than igaguri's football skills, she's fine ↳mikka.kaiser: YOU SAID FOOTBALL THANK FUCKING YOU ↳shiidoryu: you're fucking him?

user1: ignoring the second picture the one is actually so cute like 🌷🧚‍♀️💅🎀💕✨‼💯 ↳yourusername: lyt cutie ↳shiidoryu: YOU NEVER EVEN CALL ME CUTE? ↳yourusername: go stare at sae's ass or something ↳itoshi_sae: no don't do that don't stare at my ass ↳yourusername: jokes aside he was actually nice to me in that picture (he didn't try throwing me off) ↳user2: something in that sentence makes me think she got thrown off a swing far too many times ↳shiidoryu: in my defense she keeps putting tomatoes in my sandwhich ↳yourusername: you look like one don't blame me

karasu_tabito: did he fall on his butt this time? ↳yourusername: he was careful bc i was sitting on his lap ↳eita.otoya: shidou in his softie green flag era? ↳yourusername: what if he's actually doing this to gain my trust and like gives me off to some kidnapper ↳nikkoki: bffr rn he would probably BE the kidnapper ↳shiidoryu: yeah what if I AM the kidnapper

-liked by chigi.who, hiyori and 198.5k others

yourusername: he isn't always an asshole <3

tagged: shiidoryu

chigi.who: the last picture?? ↳yourusername: my life goals right there ↳yourusername: shidou that better be us when we grow up ↳shiidoryu: that already IS us ↳yourusername: are you called me a 73.8 year old grandma? ↳shiidoryu: IN MY DEFENSE IM CALLING MY SELF A GRANDPA TOO

aryu.jubei: your hair is very ✨glam✨drop the hair care routine (did he try to yank your hair?) ↳yourusername: check dms ↳yourusername: SURPRISNGLY NO?? HE WAS ACTUALLY REALLY NICE TODAY?? ↳shiidoryu: i'm always nice baby ↳yourusername: yeah to your side chicks ↳shiidoryu: YOU are the side chick, sae is ml ↳yourusername: oh fuck you what does that man have other than thick thighs, a thick ass and an ass attitude ↳itoshi_sae: what do i not have ↳yourusername: proper relationship with your family ↳itoshi_sae: fuck off

shiidoryu: you look pretty ↳yourusername: ily im gonna go cry ↳shiidoryu: DON'T CRY WHY ARE YOU CRYING NOW I COMPLIMENTED YOU ↳yourusername: THAT'S THE THING YOI COMPLIMENTED ME ↳shiidoryu: wajt

user3: she looks so pretty and happy in the second pic. shidou you better watch out, i'm in your walls ↳shiidoryu: my walls are nasty, what if my dead hamsters are there ↳yourusername: MY TEIGO. I BOUGHT IT TO YOUR HOUSE AND IT JS DESPAWNED ↳shiidoryu: I'M SORRY

user4: when a zesty ass loving thigh loving (man loving) tomato looking demon who kicks balls around and pick fight w emo boys can pull ↳yourusername: my dms are open for u ↳shiidoryu: no they're not ↳oliver.aiku: how much we betting that he's gonna go make 15 accounts to spam y/n dms ↳isaichii: betting a whole ahh bachira ↳megubachi: WHY ARE U BETTING ME OFF??? ↳chigi.who: betting my other acl ↳kuniisuke: HELP WHAT?? ↳kenyu.yukimiya: betting my already shit vision ↳nagi.seishiro: my gaming console ↳reo.miikage: my entire networth ↳itoshi_sae: my abibas sponsorship ↳user5: ABIBAS 🔥🔥💯💯🔛🔝🗣🗣 ↳rin.itoshi: betting off my brother ↳itoshi_sae: what

welllll that took a lot longer than it should have buttt here you go shidou simps i had fun writing this ig sorta maybe kinda idk

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

How do I talk to a fourth grader about sex Ed? Are there books or an online resource for parents you recommend?

hi there, thank you for asking!

the book that I use to teach OWL classes is Robie Harris' It's Perfectly Normal; I strongly recommend getting ahold of the revised & updated edition from 2021, which is more inclusive and queer-friendly, but even the older edition is a pretty good starting place.

it can be a great way to start the conversation if the fourth grader in question hasn't approached you with their own questions about sex and bodies, which can be daunting for a lot of kids, especially if that hasn't historically been the vibe when you interact! they may not know a lot at that point, but most kids have definitely absorbed that sex is something that they're not supposed to talk about.

if they're feeling up to having a chat beyond the basics (anatomy, reproduction 101, changes that come with puberty, squiggly crush feelings, consent and no means no, etc), that's awesome! I find most kids in the 4th-6th grade range already have a lot more information about sex than most people expect; they just have it jumbled up and out of order and lack the tools to make sense of it. ie, I've had students who know about periods but are under the impression that they come out of the butt, understand that a baby grows inside of a person but have no clue how it gets out, and make jokes about someone getting ejaculated on because they know it's Inappropriate and therefore funny but don't actually have any idea what ejaculation actually is or why it happens.

so, you know. much to work on there!

honestly I think the #1 most important thing for any adult trying to be a good ally and educator to young people is to kill the urge to cringe literally ever at all about anything, because the second you make a kid feel weird for asking a question is the second they start hesitating to confide in you with their questions. I've had to poker face kids asking me why someone would ever put someone else's penis in their mouth, what a harem is, and kids very earnestly describing their first wet dreams without having any idea that they were describing wet dreams. there cannot be any "no," it's "yes, and" from here on it. "yes that sounds weird to you, and it's completely fine to do that with people you trust if and when you feel ready to have sex" has got to be the constant refrain. be as rigorously open-minded and non-judgmental as possible establishes that you are a safe person to talk to honestly, and encourages your kiddo to be similarly curious and accepting.

if you ever find yourself really flustered by a question, or you genuinely don't have an answer, it's okay to pull a "I don't know! let me find out more information and get back to you." (also great behavior to model for kids, btw.) if you're ever stumped trying to figure out how to break something down into 4th grader-sized chunks, I recommend Scarleteen as a starting place - it's a sex ed forum run by volunteers for teens, some of them pretty young, so the answers are written very accessibly.

easing into the topic by discussing things like feelings and puberty can be a great way to ease in. have they talked about puberty at school? are their friends having any bodily changes? how do people talk about bodies? do kids get made fun of for developing breasts or growing body hair? does anyone at school date? how does the kid you're talking with feel about all of that? I might just be blessed with unusually gossipy kids, but they LOVE dishing about how other kids act. I learn so so much about my students by asking them to tell me how their peers behave at school; they love to narc.

also: it can be a huge bummer if YOU were really ready to rumble being sex positive and a source of info, but sometimes kids just aren't ready to engage with that. I've know 4th graders who are extremely at eases talking about the ins and outs of vaginal anatomy and 6th graders who would rather run away than even acknowledge genitals exist; there's no predicting when anyone will be comfortable with this. to a certain degree you might need to encourage a kid through initial awkwardness, but if they're reaching a point of serious distress and discomfort we've got to let it go. unfortunately I've taught kids who reacted to their parents' enthusiasm for sex positivity by wilting in exactly the opposite direction, getting anxious and confrontational whenever the topic came up. the majority of kids will become curious in their own time, especially as puberty and sexuality becomes more pressing to them and their peers, and sometimes the best thing you can do is leave that door open for them to return to in their own time.

also, hey! if you're ever really really stuck, I'm here on tumblr dot com :) I'm by now means an expert, but I've taught a LOT of fourth graders what a condom is.

[meeks-just-wants-to-scroll]

thank you

kieran is a decent shot but is terrifying with a knife (people are not that different to fish). 110% he would win a 1v1 knife fight every time and thanks to army training he's pretty decent at disarming people in hand on hand combat. would take a knife to a gun fight and have a chance of winning

probably taller than 90% of the gang if he actually corrected his posture

his parents died when he was a proper baby only 8 or 9 and he pick-pocketed to survive along with a bunch of other urchins like the saint denis gang. he's still pretty good at it and is really good at being stealthy/light on his feet despite his stature (helpful for not getting noticed by the crueler VDLs)

he also became a pretty good liar and con artist as part of living on the street and getting out of trouble when caught (this is heavily inspired by how differently he treats gang members, happily tells karen he is a baby to get sympathy, people-pleasing 'whatever you say miss with mary-beth, needles arthur back a bit when they go fishing)

probably has a touch of the old imposter syndrome because he never really had the chance to figure out who he was he's just been focused on survival since since day 1. he loves horses because he doesn't have to worry about what mask he has to wear with them

he's frankly not sure how old he is on account of how young he was when his parents died. he enlisted for the army when he looked old enough, in reality he was probs only 17 and barely got in based on his facial hair, which he had never shaved a day in his life since it started growing (hc late 20s/early 30s in game)

he was in the infantry division. consistent food and routine after a decade of fighting for scraps and being spit on? he loved it. very upstanding, attentive, kept his uniform clean and sharp. was there years before he saw active combat. then he fucking hated it. refused to follow orders. was not dying over land. was not shooting at unarmed people. dishonorably discharged. would have deserted if they didn't.

looks like an absolute fucking baby without facial hair and would sooner bite someone than be clean shaven because he hates it

gets very irritable when he hasn't had a cigarette for a while. has picked cigarette butts of the ground for a quick hit. would have broken faster about six point cabin if they offered him a cigarette.

lying through his teeth about his time with the o'driscolls. he was probably with them closer to a year, and a little higher than bottom-rung. got to pick and choose what missions he went on, talk to colm directly, most knew his name ect. i cannot see him having the balls to argue with colm o'driscoll himself unless he had some level of protection/seniority within the gang esp given the circumstances of how he joined. he was trusted enough to ride off on his own without running off?

in saying that. he was definitely considering running off in colter. at no point does he try to fight arthur. no way he wasn't armed. just oh no i am being abducted this is v bad. don't give me food for weeks? still like you more than colm can i stay with you pls

AHHH!!! I READ THIS THE DAY YOU SENT IT BUT I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO RESPOND BECAUSE I WASN’T REALLY EXPECTING PEOPLE TO ACTUALLY SEND IN THEIR HEADCANONS, THANK YOU THESE ARE WONDERFUL!

:D You explained these all beautifully and I feel like I couldn’t say much more, but I’ll try to “yes and…” everything you said because I feel it is worth exploring these ideas you proposed. Long HC ramble under the divider.

1) I don’t know much about 1800’s military training but I can see Kieran being a knife guy like you said. He has a custom knife in game (at the very least he has a custom pistol). Him being good with a knife makes me think of how he comes off as unarmed from a distance but harbors a wicked knife up close. I am sure he mainly uses his knife for cutting fishing line or whittling sticks in his free time. He used it for cutting up animals he hunted while with his past gang. That knife has gotten him through a lot, it’s practically an heirloom at this point; it kept him alive and is one of the few things he fully owns and kept from his youth.

2+3+4) lanky scary guy is stealthy!! Yes!! I would like to mention how no one in the VDL gang noticed Kieran wandering off and getting a gun belt from a corpse during the firefight in A Social Call Mission. He did all of that AND was swift enough to save Arthur. I agree that he was very young when his parents died. I more so think 11-13 in my HC but that’s just because I feel like the stables would rather kick out a tween/teen than a little kid. This blends into your 4th point about being a con artist. Kieran knows his strengths and weaknesses. He knows that people see a scrawny little boy before they see him as a thief. Squirming and squabbling can be enough of a distraction to get away with things.

I don’t have a good explanation for how Kieran did this since he can’t leave camp, but while I was playing, I saw Kieran donated a jewel necklace to the camp funds (and not to brag on his behalf, but he donated WAY MORE $$ than the other members 🤭). Kieran still can pull his weight in pickpocketing, even in game. I imagine he does it without straying too far from camp by pretending he is sick or hungry and thirsty on the side of well traveled paths and getting close enough to strangers to swipe something. It’s subtle enough to not draw attention to camp, yet effective enough to be worth it in the long run.

5+6) I agree on imposter syndrome! One hc I have is that Kieran was raised an only child while traveling westward to California with his parents meaning he had no consistent kids his age to be with. Even in the military (where he SHOULD be surrounded by his peers) he never really connected in a genuine way. Being roughened up by being an outlaw after that just made it harder to emotionally connect since so much required not breaking down if a group member dies. It’s odd; Kieran is unwilling to be vulnerable, but he isn’t this stoic wall. Instead he has this decoy vulnerability?… he’d rather people see him as a weak guy if it gets him out of a physical hurt yet he won’t be vulnerable if it means running the risk of being emotionally hurt.

7) I know very little about 1800’s military (and my cursory research has been shallow thus far) but I imagine it was better than being homeless and orphaned! Food, shelter and routine, like you said. I imagine Kieran was an obedient and hard working kid; helped his family with horses, fishing and hunting. Pre-outlaw Kieran felt conflicted about killing people. I mean… he joined the army so he isn’t clueless that he had to kill, but killing on paper vs actually killing is very different, plus he was a puny teen without a fully developed brain when he enlisted.

Once Kieran became an outlaw, he had to make some sort of peace / find some silver lining to killing. You have to have morally dubious ways of coping with being an outlaw or else you go mad. One way was him (guiltily or not) finding some thrill in gunfights or knife fights. Made him feel good for once about being an easy to underestimate guy. He got to taunt, shout, and watch his enemies faces contort in pain and horror.

8) the facial hair stuff!! I agree that Kieran likely looks like an exhausted young adult under all the scruff. I imagine Kieran has put value into his unkempt looks. He does care for hygiene (source: he says it in cut audio) but he can’t bring himself to trim his facial or head hair because he feels it is the only thing making him a man. Like you said, imposter syndrome, he doesn’t feel like he’s an actual adult who has his life together. I’m sure Kieran has some out-dated ideas of what makes a man (out-dated by modern day standards). Stuff like being strong, a provider, hairy, deep voiced, etc. Kieran isn’t many of those things. Having a snaggly beard is his tiny grasp on meeting what he wishes he could be. I also think he hasn’t cut his hair that much because of a lack of salons while being an outlaw.

9) I honestly forget most of the characters in RDR2 smoke… but I agree! Growing up with a smoker as a parent who tried to quite cold turkey a few times, I know how hellish withdrawal is on a person. While in Colter, tied up, Kieran was the most bellicose because of withdrawals peaking (upon other things). I feel like some point between his parent’s dying and him joining the outlaws was when he took up smoking.

10+11) Kieran was DEFINITELY lying about how involved he was with the O’Drisc, agreed. I see him as being with them for likely 6 months to a year. Maaayyybe more but I feel like Kieran ran with his prior gang for most of his adult life. To me, Kieran is fibbing a half truth when he says he wasn’t close with Colm and he was merely a stable boy. He WAS that, but with being an obedient, hardworking chore boy, he was kept around long enough to make it up little by little till he was on missions out of camp collecting supplies or defending territory/camp. Kieran was always a pawn, never someone Colm actually cared for. Kieran was just the least-annoying gang goon Colm could bring into the mountains to watch the horses in the cold stables. The fact Kieran was even spotted by the VDL gang was bad luck.

I don’t know why he is riding out of the camp solo before Arthur catches him ;-; my best guess would be Kieran was going to meet up with other members but when a fight with the O’Drisc vs VDL broke out in camp, Kieran took it as his chance to get the fuck out of there.

On the topic of getting the fuck out, Kieran didn’t fight as much as he could when Arthur got him, I agree. When his life depends on it, he will fight like a cornered animal, all knife slashing and wild-eyed. Whether Kieran fights or goes limp and pleads pathetically depends on the situation. When Kieran fled from the O’Drisc camp firefight, he knew he wouldn’t last out there unless he got off the mountain. Being snatched and dragged to an enemy camp was better than dying of exposure. I mean… everything in his life sucks. Kieran gets no easy options. Sometimes he just has to go limp and be tied up and see where life brings him.

His relationship with Colm is interesting. I don’t think Colm cares very much about Kieran (keep in mind I don’t actually know Colm’s character well since I haven’t finished the game). From what Kieran describes of him, I feel it was all things Kieran observed or eavesdropped on while doing chores or sitting around the camp. Who knows tho! I am open to the idea that Kieran was of higher rank and indeed had more reasons to talk with Colm directly. I don’t know much about the O’Driscoll gang inner workings.

Ah!! Once again, thank you so much :) I love all your headcanons and it was a blast brainstorming about your ideas.

[wandafiction]

It's Real To Me - Just Us Chapter 29

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 2211

Series List | Chapter 28 | Chapter 30

================================

"Hello ladies, and Yelena." I join them at the table sitting myself next to Wanda, Natasha sitting next to her sister.

"I am a lady too Y/n!" Yelena holds her hand to her chest feigning hurt as the other three women laugh and I shake my head pointing my finger at her as I speak.

"How old are you Yelena?" She mumbles something under her breath, I catch her swearing in Russian but not much else.

"Yelena!" I gasp as I look at the children. "Watch your language there are children about." 

"Blyad!" (Fuck)

"You just swore again. Surely you're too young to be cussing." Natasha is laughing at her sister now, her hand resting on Yelena's shoulder. Wanda pinches my leg under the table telling me to behave, while Sharon joins in on mocking Yelena.

"Yeah Yelena! I'm sure your mother would love to hear that you're cussing someone new out and in front of her younger brother."

"Oh shut up will you." She folds her arms and pouts, but can't hide the smirk that grows underneath as she looks up at me. Oh this is going to be good. I rest my arms on the table rubbing my hands together, curling an eyebrow as I wait for a response. 

"Well at least I didn't have to climb down a beanstalk to get here today." The three women look at Yelena confused as I give her a smirk. "You know, because she is so tall. Jack and the beanstalk, the giants live, oh never mind." She waves her hands dismissively. 

"It's okay Yelena I got it, maybe I could take you to my kingdom one day. I heard there was a goose that lays giant golden eggs or something." She gives me the middle finger as she scoffs. "Hey I'm just saying." 

"Well I bet someone like you does have a goose that lays golden eggs. For all we know you have one of those fabergé eggs." 

"Not worth the money." I shrug dismissively. Wanda places her hand on my thigh trying to take my attention away from Yelena as Natasha gives her sister a pointed look telling her to stop. Unfortunately she doesn't see, Sharon is just enjoying the show which I can't blame her for.

"Not worth the money, oh Miss self righteous I give money to poor people because I can." I take in a breath, placing my hand on Wanda's taking control of my emotions so I don't react. She isn't the first person to say something like this, she isn't going to be the last but if it's going to create tension between her and me then I might say something. I don't want to ruin what I have with Wanda because Yelena is butt hurt I have money. 

"Yelena stop." I hear Natasha hiss in her sister's ear, so I know Yelena heard it. Luckily the boys are too preoccupied with chasing one another to notice what's going on.

"No, I want to know how some 22 year old has a fu...has a business and all this money. We don't even know who she works for!" Yelena throws her hands in the air aggressively as she gets more wound up, at least she stopped herself from swearing so she has some control. "I mean she turned up in a brand new G-wagon, she lives in a penthouse according to Wanda, has a few expensive cars and a house. Now you tell me, how someone who is my age can have all of that! I bet it's not even hers. She is probably just another trust fund kid who shows off mommy and daddy's money."

"My mom and dad own an ice cream parlor, how on earth would you expect them to have enough to have a trust fund let alone a multimillion dollar trust fund." 

"That's not real though is it?!" Her eyes widen and she says it, the other three women's jaws drop as their heads whip around all of them glaring at Yelena. She seems to shrink under their gazes, her sister hits the back of her head seemingly the most angry with her. 

"Yelena that's enough." Wanda's voice is scarily calm and even, but her head tilt and eyes tell a different story: I would hate to be on the receiving end of this Wanda. 

"I'm sorry Y/n. I didn't mean, I shouldn't have said that. It just came out before I could stop myself." Well fuck!

"It's okay Yelena." My eyes meet hers as I give her a smile, one that I know doesn't meet my eyes, but my voice is soft and calm.

"It's not though. For what it's worth I am so sorry, I really didn't mean to say it." 

"But you did." 

"I did." She drops her head, disappointed with her own actions which already lets me know she is truly sorry but I just need a minute.

"I'm just going to the toilet." I stand gently from my chair, giving Wanda a peck on the forehead as I make my way inside.

I hear Natasha's hand make contact with the back of her sister's head as she chews her out once again. I close the decking doors behind me, taking a deep breath to compose myself before making my way to what I assume is the bathroom so I can splash some water on my face. I assume correctly as I walk into the rather large bathroom immediately locking the door behind me so no one can interrupt me. I place my hands either side of the sink as I look up into the mirror.

Like I said before, I have heard those words before and so much worse so I am not angry or upset that I heard them. It just stings a little to hear them come from one of Wanda's friends. I get she said it in the heat of the moment, but she still said it. 

It isn't real? Of course it isn't fucking real, they are my adoptive parents so no it ain't fucking real. But it's a real as it is going to fucking get when both your blood parents who were meant to love and cherish you don't, well maybe my mom still does but I can't be sure I haven't visited her in a while. And my dad, well he is not my fucking dad. Clint is my dad. Clint is my real dad. I chose Clint to be my dad so surely that makes it real, it makes it all real. Right? 

I'm brought out of my thoughts by a quiet knock on the bathroom door, I almost don't hear it.

"Y/n it's Yelena. Can I please come in?" 

I let out a small sigh as I unlock the door, only to be knocked back when it swings open and Yelena jumps at me, wrapping her arms around me, squeezing me tightly. I turn my body to kick the door closed, and lock it because no doubt the other three women are going to want to eavesdrop, so I lock the door just so they can't watch it. I feel Yelena's shoulders shaking against my torso, a wet patch leaking through my shirt. She's crying. 

I move backwards so I am leaning against the counter top, allowing my feet to slide along the floor a little so I am at an angle where Yelena's head is resting on my chest and not on my stomach. She is tiny too, just like her sister, cute.

"It's okay Yelena." I feel her shake her head against my chest.

"It's not okay. I hurt you." I hate the way her voice croaks with emotion.

"You didn't hurt me that bad. I've heard worse."

"Well you should have never heard it in the first place. You didn't deserve it. Not one bit." I let out a small sigh, moving my body to stand up detaching Yelena from me. 

She lets out a surprised squeak when I pick her up, putting her on the counter top so our eyes are almost level, I take a few steps back to make sure there is space between us. I know I locked the door, but I do not want to have to deal with another angry Russian let alone an angry Sokovian if they were to catch us in that sort of position. Sharon's like Switzerland, very neutral, knows when to speak and when to let things just happen: she is a peacekeeper. 

"Can I ask you something?" Yelena furrows her brows in confusion, but nods her head nonetheless. "Why did you get worked up so quickly? We were joking around and then it's like a switch flipped and you completely lost it."

"I don't know, not really. You just sort of said that fabergé eggs are not worth the money, and something just flipped. I think that's the way I interpreted it."

"How did you interpret it?"

"That you were saying they were such throwaway things. Like you were just able to spend all that money, which is not even a big spend for you, and then you were like 'no I don't like it'." She shrugs. "I don't know, it's hard to explain."

"Well try." She huffs out a laugh looking up at me unamused.

"I think maybe it's because I'm living with my sister."

"Well it can't be that bad that you lose your shit at a practical stranger. A stranger that's dating a Sokovian woman by the way."

"Yeah I know. She did the head tilt thing and I swear I nearly shit myself there and then."

"It was pretty scary." I laugh along with Yelena's giggles.

"I know right?" 

"So why do you think living here caused the outburst?"

"What are you my therapist now?" 

"Amuse me."

"Okay Dr Y/n." She smirks at me as I giggle a little, but nod for her to continue. "It's not just living here, it's not having a job here either. I mean I am relying on my older sister for pretty much everything and I am struggling to get to the interview faze of so many places. No one wants me." 

"So that's it." I speak softly as I look at Yelean who lets out a defeated sigh as I take all the information in. "You think your not needed, not wanted and that you are going to have to rely on people all your life and yet here I am at the same age as you living some people's wildest dreams."

"No offence but I hate how you can have everything in the palm of your hand yet here I am living with my sister with no job." I perk up when I get an idea.

"What sort of jobs are you applying for?"

"Uhm, anything and everything. But something that pays more than $10 just because I need to start putting money behind me. Why?"

"What does your CV look like? I could maybe help you put something together if you would like help. I've read so many, and done so many interviews that I sort of know what to look for and what not to look for. And if they are going to read the first two lines and chuck your CV or phone you up." Yelena's jaw drops at the idea.

"You would do that? For me?" Her bottom lip quivers a little. "After what I said out there."

"All is forgiven Yelena. You need to stop beating yourself up about it. It was in the heat of the moment, and we all say things we don't mean."

"That would be like so fucking amazing if you could help me. Like you don't even know what this means. So yes, please could you help me with my CV?" 

"Of course I will. I will give you my number and email and we can start on it tomorrow or something, but for today let's just relax and have fun. Oh by the way you are going to be on mine and Nats team for a water fight, but don't let the others know I brought water guns. I wanted to surprise the children." 

"Thank you so so so much Y/n. You don't even know what this means to me! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She jumps off the counter to give me another hug, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist as I wrap mine around her shoulders draping them over her back lazily. "Me, you and Natasha are going to win the battle by the way." 

"Of course we are. Now let's head back out there, maybe have a drink and then we can have a good afternoon." 

Yelena let's go of me heading straight to the door, but as she grabs the handle with her hand ready to unlock it she turns back around to me: keeping her hand on the handle.

"Me and Natasha are adopted too, so I know it's real because it's real to me too." I smile softly and nod in understanding at what she is saying, as she turns to unlock the door so we can leave the bathroom.

She is right.

It's real.

================================

[edenfenixblogs]

Love you all (personal)

Leaving my phone in another room for awhile. I'm not ignoring any of you, and I have seen and will respond to all your EXTREMELY KIND messages, even if it takes awhile.

I was attempting to take a break from all this over the course of the week, because I felt myself growing weary and needed a recharge. Then my ceiling collapsed in heavy rain and I had to turn off my "Work Hours Focus" setting on my phone. It was supposed to silence all notifications and alerts from non-work and non-family phone numbers and block all non-work apps.

LOL...not really possible to have that setting on when coordinating with a bunch HVAC/Roofer dudes I've never met before.

But still. Jewish law commands us to find joy somewhere even when we're miserable. And while I know that is a sentiment that does not work for a lot of people, it has always been helpful to me.

So, despite all this, I am grateful for the shift in my plans this week for several reasons.

I'm grateful we were able to band together to help @rabid-catboy with an actual urgent issue. It feels very good to do something that you know helps someone. If my phone was in work mode I never would have seen this message in time to do anything about it. I had a similar experience in high school and I still think about it often. I get upset at how much was being asked of me and how much I was expected to know so that I could educate my peers and educators to do better. I didn't have the words to describe why something was so upsetting to me and why I know that it was wrong. Years later, I found the words and was so angry that I was expected to have them even when I was a child. It's an unfair burden, and I'll always be grateful that, even though I didn't find the words in time, I could help someone else find their words.

I am glad to have seen how active allies have been over the past week. I'm pretty emotionally drained by this all the time, so I may not say it as clearly or as often as I should, butt you give me hope. I am not used to relying on other or sharing my grief. It's actually a big problem. I don't tell people when I'm upset, because I'm afraid to inconvenience people or seem dramatic. that's part of the reason I struggled through undiagnosed PTSD for 13 years before reaching out for help. With the help of my BFF and my therapist, I chose to start being more open about my emotions with people. It's been a mixed bag. The people I knew would be here for me have continued to be here for me, thank goodness! But all (except 1) of the people I THOUGHT I could trust have simply stopped interacting with me at all. And I'm a lot less pushy/aggressive/vocal about all his suff IRL than I am when I have time to compose my thoughts and answer questions on here. It's been cataclysmic and devastating. To see so many people I've never met IRL not only lend emotional support to me personally but also provide emotional and temporal labor into fighting antisemitism and supporting Jews more broadly has gone a long way to restoring the faith in humanity that this conflict is trying to erode within me. I know I'm not he only Jew who feels this way right now. Please never underestimate the impact you have just by visibly existing in this space with us.

It's been nice being able to channel my anxiety about my ceiling into something productive.

Reminder: I love you all. Sorry for delayed replies. I'll be back. <3

[thrawns-backrest]

Listen, what do you think about how the fandom perceives Ronan? This may be a strange question, but I saw post here about how Thrawn is an ambiguous character, he does both good and bad things, he is not an innocent kitten, etc. And I completely agree with this. But it seems to me that in relation to Ronan, the opposite situation very often manifests itself. If Thrawn is sometimes too idealized by the fandom, although he is a more complex person, then Ronan often appears as some kind of universal evil in posts and fanfiction. And…I don't know, it just doesn't seem right to me. He has a adverse nature, that's true, and his loyalty to Krennic sometimes pushes him to do not the best things, but there are enough moments in the canon that show his good traits too. At least he is really loyal man and not as stupid as he might seem. I just saw your post recently where you talked about him, so I was interested to ask your opinion!

Thank you for your attention and sorry if I disturbed you :c

please don't apologize, I love asks like this!!! If anything I should probably apologize because this is about to become ridiculously long :D I really like Ronan as a character, he's one of my favorites from Treason. He's entertaining, competent, somewhat churlish and has that posh attitude where you really want to ruffle his feathers to see what he'll do.

Those last two are part of the reason why it's fun to make him the butt of the joke and why the fandom does it so often. But having said that... you're absolutely right. I've also noticed that the fandom tends to be excessively antagonistic towards him (as it is with some other similar characters but more on that later).

And you're right to bring up Thrawn because he's the golden child here, him and Eli, and any character that disagrees with or doesn't like him automatically gets blacklisted. Which is odd to me since Thrawn is supposed to be controversial and Zahn does a good job of portraying that by giving us different characters' perspectives and reasons for liking/disliking him.

Sadly for Ronan he's very unfriendly towards Thrawn and Eli and ends up making a decision that goes against Thrawn's goals which now garners him a lot of hate. An interesting development given that Thrawn himself doesn't begrudge him for it in the books and even trusts him enough to send him to the Chiss. Which honestly means so much coming from Thrawn? It's as close to a stamp of approval as you can get from him, be it of Ronan's trustworthiness or simply his skills.

So if people really hold Thrawn in such high esteem, they shouldn't forget that his own assessment of Ronan was ultimately positive. No matter what role he plans for Ronan to play in the Ascendancy (even if that role is for Ronan to come to specific conclusions he can then take back to the Empire, ie feeding him some kind of information) Thrawn trusts him enough to, again, send him to his own people. People with lost of secrets that make them vulnerable.

And it's honestly a shame because as you say, Ronan has so much going for him as a character. The very idea of someone who's loyal to the Empire while being critical of Palpatine is so cool. It's literally something that can get him killed yet he's ready to face that danger if it means adhering to his principles.

Of course loyalty to the wrong party makes him pretty culpable but regardless, there is a good basis for him to grow as a character. As already mentioned he's loyal, he's competent, he disapproves of Palpatine and all the petty political games that dominate the Empire's higher echelons. He feels guilty for tricking Eli despite believing that he's a traitor. He even comes to respect Thrawn's skills by the end and modifies his answer when reporting to Tarkin so as to ensure Thrawn isn't accused of treason.

So very good foundation to build from. There's still his loyalty to Krennic (who is a pretty damn morally corrupt guy from what I've read) but an overzealous attitude like Ronan's understandably makes him liable to blind idolization so we can't really say for sure that he has a nasty motif for admiring Krennic.

From what Zahn tells us, Ronan seems to admire Krennic for his, quote, leadership, competence and brilliance and he does so to an excessive degree. He sounds pretty starry eyed is what I'm trying to say. Enough to cloud his better judgement perhaps.

Moral or immoral though, he's still a pretty cool character. Which is the same thing you can say about Thrawn. Funnily enough they're almost parallels of each other - Thrawn has honorable end goals that he pursues through corrupt means and Ronan (unwittingly or not) works toward a corrupt end goal but is pretty morally upright in the way he does it.

And come on you can't tell me he doesn't have one of the coolest descriptions (like Savit noting his eyes look older than he does) or some of the coolest inner monologue (like the "half a victory is still half a defeat" line). I also love how he hates politics yet ironically those political mental gymnastics are exactly what he's good at.

But I digress. My point is that you hit the nail on the head when you said the fandom idolizes Thrawn to the point of having a skewed perception.

Another character that I personally like a lot and whose standing in the fandom is very similar is Thurfian. Thurfian doesn't do anything overtly evil in the books and yet he's very often demonized as some kind of villain. Which I bet you is because he's in opposition to Thrawn and other fan favorites like Thalias (something that annoys me because people tend to victimize Thalias so much in their dynamic when she's actually a very brave and resourceful character. Who once held Thurfian at gunpoint might I add).

The thing is, people need to stop the whole pigeonholing characters into 'good' and 'bad' categories. Because especially with Zahn, things are rarely so black and white. Our prejudices as readers can be influenced by both limited and omniscient povs.

In Ronan's case, seeing him from the pov of beloved characters who he opposes is what paints him in an overly negative light. In Thurfian's we forget that these characters don't have the same insight into Thrawn's motives and logic as we do and that Thurfian is perfectly justified in thinking that Thrawn will one day overthink and overplan to the detriment of many. And if those words sound familiar it's because that's what Ar'alani herself says to Thrawn at the end of the book.

But to cut a long story short, I don't think Ronan deserves the hate he's getting. He's a very interesting guy - he's got a good foundation of principles, a quick mind and an amusing personality. Sure, he's prone to extreme bias, both positive (Krennic) and negative (Thrawn, Eli) that can cloud his judgement but barring that he's displayed an impressive amount of competence. Impressive enough to catch Thrawn's eye and we know Thrawn has a good sense for these things.

So basically love Ronan y'all, he's really neat. Even if he's not some paragon for moral goodness which honestly few of Zahn's characters really are.

(Thank you for this ask, I had a lot of fun answering it! If I get my act together, I'll hopefully finish my fic about Ronan where I plan to explore more of his motivations and how he could potentially find a place for himself in the Ascendancy. So fingers crossed for that!)

[bustybounty]

A wife is sure that her butt is too big and unsightly after her pregnancy. To prove her wrong, the husband makes his ass just as big to show her how sexy it is.

"Come on honey, it's sexy as hell to see how big your butt got."

"You're lying, no one likes asses as fat as this! I've only put on weight due to my pregnancy too, which has not helped at all..."

"Trust me, it's lovely!" He tried reassuring her, but it seemed she was always insecure about her ass. It was only half as wide as their couch now... wait, that's pretty big for most normal people. So it made sense she'd have a reaction to it.

Though so did he - and his reaction? Grow his ass as fast as possible, in any means necessary. 'These chocolate egg milkshakes all go to your hips!' He overheard in a video his wife was watching about things to avoid the most when trying to lose ass fat.

Of course, he used that list as things to eat the MOST of, and he had results very quickly. His wife was distracted enough not to notice his belly get slightly pudgier or his butt protruding farther and farther, hips widening, thighs slapping against one another with every step he took, but it eventually became too much to NOT notice.

He got as big as her - and showed it to her. She gasped. "See? It's nowhere near as bad as you make it out to be. I think it's really hot too. Don't you?" He teased, swaying his bouncing booty from side to side to entice her, and she blushed a bit, moving closer, her own ass cheeks shaking violently despite how she only took small, careful steps.

"Wow..It doesn't look that bad on you, but still...I don't know." Did she need further convincing? Well... He gave her a gentle hip bump, which honestly would have sent her flying across the room if she didn't have a lot of mass herself. "You CAN'T say you don't love this dumptruck."

He then pressed his butt right against hers, making her blush bright red now, and making her actually wobble hers in return...

Sooner rather than later, they were practically twerking those monstrous double wagon jello asses against one another as a brand new form of couples dancing.

It's safe to say that she was more confident in her butt size now.

Things were fine after that, even if they had to get used to, especially him, the new size of his behind.

Though one fateful night, she was laying in bed with him, facing away from one another, their butts obviously taking up a lot of the space between them. "Say...we wanted two kids...if I get pregnant again, and my butt grows more...will you grow yours just as fat, for me?"

And he smiled, not taking long to respond. "Of course honey. I'll get it as fat as you want, even. I was already thinking that we should get bigger, pregnancy or not...but that's a great idea."

Hopefully they dreamed about what they'd look like soon, with even wider asses...and hopefully their dream bodies would be far surpassed by their actually real sizes~ <3

[onewmin]

the perfume on the shelf. pt. 3 | bangchan

Pairings: Bang Chan x Fem!reader, Kim Yugyeom x Fem!reader (surprise lmao)

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never a part of the plan. So you end it up. But does he want to put a stop to it, too?

Warnings: AU, descriptions of blood and gore, profanity, mental issues, injury descriptions, angst, clichés (I’m a fan of them), typos, the reader’s confused about everything. Flashbacks in forms of memories, a flashback in a form of a dream

Author’s note: the longest part so far!! I had planned to put a lot of things in this one, so here you go. If you came here to read a simple story of two friends falling in love - sorry, not gonna happen lmao. All plot twists have been planned beforehand lol. More important characters are introduced in this part too. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!!

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

Part 2 | Part 4

Unlike every other guy you dated, your first love was the one who broke your heart.

It wasn’t cheating, toxicity or lack of closure — it was you two growing up. Dating since the senior year at school, you had lasted for almost four years, being together at college too. You remembered the first time he and Chan met; what really got engraved into your memory was him tensing up immediately while shaking Chan’s hand.

“Don’t be an ass”, he ran the hand through his hair — a habit of his when he was annoyed.

“I’m not”, he cupped your face and forced you to hold an eye contact. “I just don’t trust this guy”.

“Maybe you’re just jealous?”, he let out an exhausted sigh in response. “Yugyeom. Be honest”.

“Want me to be honest? ‘kay. He didn’t look at you like, uh, you look at friends. Y’know?”

You glanced and him, noticing a glimpse of something you’d never seen, something… You had no idea what it was, although, it would have been wrong if you said you didn’t like extra attention Yugyeom was giving you after that encounter with Chan.

Putting his hands on your waist, you took a step closer — it hadn’t been your first time, but it never ceased to give you butterflies how Yugyeom’s eyes always darted from your lips to your eyes whenever you got closer. Standing on the tiptoes, you gave him a wet, slobbery even, smooch on the lips, that always got him taken aback. In a gross way, of course.

“Ew”, the usual response. “You’re disgusting”.

“But you still love me, right?”, you put your arms around his waist, hands landing on the small of his back. Taking his nodding as an affirmation, your head was on his shoulder. “There’s nothing between me and Chan. We’re just friends. D’you really think I would be hanging out with someone who’d be, like, flirting with me or something?”

Yugyeom sighed again. “No”, his embrace on you tightened. “I know you wouldn’t. It’s not you I don’t trust”.

“Okay, let’s have a deal”, you raised your head to look at him. “If he ever does something… Some shit that you’re talking about, I’ll block him everywhere”.

“In real life too?”, a soft smile on his lips made the corners of your mouth quirk up too.

“Everywhere. And I’ll tell you immediately. Deal?”

“Deal”.

“Great”, having smacked his butt with extra ferocity — watching him hiss as if he hadn’t been used to it — you stood up straight. “Let’s go”, you offered your arm to him; Yugyeom gladly followed your command, giving you a quick kiss on the temple. At that moment you were confident him and you would be endgame.

But the high school friend and sweetheart, the boy you were going to follow to the end of the world… Some months after that conversation, just after you turned twenty-one, he got a chance at the Ivy League university and left. And then you grew apart. Just like that, the name of the love of your life (or so you thought) was erased from your stories, and never replaced. But that’s something you wouldn’t tell anyone, not even your therapist.

You’d get into the details before the breakup: how you two dated, how he got an opportunity to be an exchange student, how excited he was to be able to stay there; his rare homecomings, your gut screaming about the two of you facing the cliff’s edge. But the jump itself? The way it made you feel? And how you had been filling the void Yugyeom left with all those narcissistic assholes? No, never. You’d rather talk about another toxic guy you’d been seeing than spill the beans about Yugyeom. He was blocked, not Chan; the latter wasn’t even close to the blacklist of your life.

However, probably, not for long.

He didn’t respond to your texts; so you thought he’d understood and let you go. Cut you off, the way you asked him to. Though, it hadn’t made it much easier for you; him not responding got you overthinking every little thing he had ever done.

That was the way the emotionally abusive men would treat you: cut you off after confessions, brag about girls they flirted with while dating you. Chan wasn’t like them, was he? He wasn’t. He wasn’t. You rejecting the possibility of him being a total asshole seemed like a way to give excuses.

Were you projecting again? Or did the rose-colored glasses just fell off when you decided to look the other way?

A breathy sigh left your mouth. Closing your eyes, you put the whole weight of your body into your hands, which were now pressing onto the printer. It wasn’t exactly your way to calm down, but crying in the office wasn’t the best option either. You’d wait till the evening, you’d wait till home and your cat. You’d lie down on the floor, next to her bowl of food, and sob while petting the girl, who’s be loudly chewing her food. Not your first time crying like that, so she’s used to it.

Having done thirteen copies, the printer “beeped”, dragging you out of the never-ending flow of thoughts. Not the job you dreamt of, to work from nine to five and to always be buried under the piles of documents.

Unlike you, Chan didn’t give up on his dream, you proceeded with the reminiscence of the past, unlike you he became what he had always wanted. What was the point in listening about your talent for writing if you quit it the moment the first publishing company rejected you?

Chan didn’t refuse his passion; he kept on working, having his bones and heart broken, losing friends and lovers. In the end, that’s where he was: on a pedestal, with his music and new, loyal friends. You were there too; in comparison with people, who surrounded him, you were standing in the corner, fingers interlocked with so much pressure your hands were turning red; eyes never on the main man, but always glued to the floor. Sometimes it seemed as if you had enjoyed not fitting into many friend groups you were apart of in the life — however, the reality was different.

“Talking to people is hard”, you told your therapist. “It takes every bit of energy from me to, like, start a conversation. It’s like, I feel like an idiot. And I think they also think I’m an idiot, y’know?”

“And why, share with me, please, why would they think you’re an idiot?”

“‘Cause… that’s what I’m scared of? That people will think of me as a constant embarrassment?”

Two years of therapy, and yet still, you were there — right where you left your true self. You wondered, especially recently, who you were in reality. With no coping mechanisms in forms of self-destructive jokes, escapism and avoidance. Who were you?

You had asked the question too often, and it all started several months ago, when you found yourself expressing nothing over the a mistake in the report instead of humoring yourself in another self-depreciative joke. Your boss even asked if you were alright; everyone was used to you joking, always and every time, about everything.

“Do you understand why you didn’t joke?”

“Maybe ‘cause I don’t know if that’s what the real me would do”.

This shit? Deep, your therapist admitted. However, the path to find that real persona of yours was full of thorns and pits, and you felt at a loss. The situationship with Chan didn’t help, it only added more questions. And you were prone to leave them all unanswered.

However, last night you’d made the right choice. Or so you thought.

The clock got to ten A.M, and you were staring into the screen of your computer, not having a single thought about numbers in your head. Another report to be done by tomorrow morning. Although, how could you finish some stupid report when Chan didn’t even care to respond? No “Ok”, no “Got you”, nothing. What an ass.

“Are you alright?” Eunjoo peeked from her computer (her desk was joined to yours, so she had always been right in front of you).

You nodded. “Yeah. Just couldn’t sleep at night”, you rubbed your eyes, feeling the typical intense stare from your friend.

“Your eyes look red. Mine usually appear to be like this when I cry a lot. Did you cry?”

Appear to be like this, girl, why do you always have to talk in full forms and elevated language? Especially at 10 in the morning?

“D’you want me to lie or to tell the truth?”

“Truth, always”.

Before you could open your mouth, the manager walked in the office you were sharing with the others; Eunjoo and you both started working too effectively, the sound of your nails, clacking the keys of the keyboard filling in the room. Five minutes later he was gone.

“So?” Eunjoo wasn’t the one to forget easily, you learned it the hard way.

You sighed. “I had a food poisoning of some sort. Spent half the night on the toilet”.

It wasn’t exactly a lie: you did have a poisoning — though it wasn’t food, but Chan. You got poisoned by his smell, his silky lies and gentle touches; he was the villain of the story, who found the easiest way to kill the person he had no use of anymore.

And so he got you addicted to him leaving pecks all over your face, tickling you, so that he could stop abruptly to cup your face. His poison was in the love, that lacked in being in love, in true, required feelings. So he gave you that poison in a form of everything you wanted; and you gladly took it, holding onto the hope of him falling in love with you.

It never happened. And you couldn’t wait any longer — nothing would have changed. You’d still be his friend, his fling, his situationship. And he? The first guy after Yugyeom who treated you right, the first guy in years, he was unreachable, so close, and yet so far from you. His head in the clouds, thinking, dreaming of her, the girl who had broken him in so many pieces, you weren’t sure it was able to collect what was left of his once big and open heart.

“You should go and see that doctor I’ve told you about”, Eunjoo was quick to proceed with another lecture. “And also, stop eating junk food. Your digestive system will be thankful”.

“Yeah, of course, mom”, you mumbled and got back to the Excel file, to the thoughts in your head distracting you from the work you were supposed to finish.

Your phone started buzzing randomly, as if it was reflecting the caller’s personality in details.

“What’s up, Minho? I’m at work”, you answered quietly, turning your head left and right to watch out for your boss.

“Chan’s at the hospital. Car accident. Come here now”, the call ended, and several seconds later the message with the hospital’s address was delivered to your phone.

Your phone was still glued to your ear, that same Excel file opened on the screen. Only the numbers were becoming blurry, as if you had taken off your glasses, and the clacking of keyboards, exhausted huffs and Eunjoo’s lecturing was replaced by a ringing in your ears. You remembered wiping wet cheeks, rubbing your eyes and standing up — it all seemed to be in slow motion.

“Eunjoo, I have to go to the hospital, Chan got into a car accident. Tell Mr. Kim, please”.

Taking your bag in your hands, seeing Eunjoo opening and closing her mouth, but not hearing her or anyone else’s words, you marched to the elevator. The eyes didn’t well up anymore, hands weren’t shaking. You spent the elevator and the taxi ride, keeping your composure. Politely speaking to the driver, you asked him questions and answered his.

At one point, it seemed as if nothing had happened — Lee Know hadn’t called you, you hadn’t received any news. Nothing. If there was something you were great at, that would be suppressing your emotions to the point where you couldn’t feel anything, no matter how much you wanted to.

Slamming the taxi door, your hand flew to your chest, grabbing skin at the left side. A strange tingling within, somewhere inside your ribs. You took a deep breath, telling yourself it’s nothing, gaslighting yourself yet again.

Every step to the hospital echoed in your ears, as if you’d been a titan walking among humans, a step of yours destroying buildings and killing people. Everyone stared — or so it seemed.

Minho’s face was the first thing you noticed after entering; he was there, at the entrance, stomping his feet and glancing at his watch. And what you’d never expected from him was a tight hug he put you in.

“I’m glad you here”, his voice was quiet, calm even — but underneath that tranquility you caught a slight crack. “His parents are on their way. They were traveling, y’know”. He let out a chuckle, and stood next to you, hands on his hips.

Minho was saying something else, you couldn’t really catch what; instead, you observed him. The way he stood there, his confidence and pride slowly washing away by this wave of anxious foot stomping and nail biting. Minho didn’t look anywhere but at the floor — and that was the first time you watched him to be like this: almost broken, nervous, scared.

“What happened?”

Apparently, you interrupted Lee Know’s non-stop blabbering; he glanced at you and gulped, nodding to some thoughts in his head.

“Th-The taxi driver, uh… He was overtaking the traffic, y’know, how they usually do”. A deep breath taken by him. “They were on a highway, uh, and he, uh — I mean, the driver — didn’t see a deer on the road.”

Minho ran his hand through the hair. “So, uh, he, the driver, had to… Maneuver? I’m not sure”, he chuckled nervously. “I didn’t really catch what the police officer was telling me. Feels like my head’s going to explode”.

You took him by the hand and led him to the chairs in the waiting room. Minho’s leg was bouncing uncontrollably, his left palm covering his face. And you were there, holding his hand, and being that calm friend, the one who never lost composure.

“He was coming to see you”.

Ah, shit. The powerful figure of composure, that was holding all of your emotions hostage, felt a stab in the back. It was a small injury, which couldn’t really shake the composure off; but the cut was slightly bleeding.

“What?”. A breathy sigh left your mouth — the bottled up emotions had reached your throat.

“He called me”, Minho leaned back in his chair, and you got involved in an intense eye contact. “Asked me if he was in love with you. As if I’m his personal advisor or whatever”.

“I told him that he was. And he promised to be late, so I assumed he was coming to see you”.

Another stab in the back, in the same exact spot. And then another. The Composure fell to the ground, almost breathless, still having a slight grip on the Fear. And in the next second, the Composure’s hand was cut off, swiftly and violently. The Composure fell into a million pieces, above her, with a bloody sword and watery eyes, was towering the Guilt herself.

“What?” Your breathing fastened, and your lungs seemed to be empty the moment you let another word fall from your mouth. No biting inside of the cheeks, no breathing techniques, no fists clenching helped anymore; your glasses suddenly got fogged up and your hot breath was mixing up with tears, falling on the hem of your shirt. “What?”

It was the last thing you said before Minho hugged your shaking body, letting you wet his shoulder, and muffle cries in the crook of his neck. You were never close; Chan used to nag how he hated that you and Lee Know, his best friends, weren’t close to one another. But in that moment, sobbing in each other’s arms, you were closer than ever.

They told you Chan had a severe concussion and a broken rib.

“In other words, he’s lucky not to get any more injures”, the doctor had told you and Minho. Chan’s parents were flying from Argentina, where they went to celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary, so they wouldn’t show up in the next several hours. The two of you were by yourselves, sitting outside the intensive care, where he was still kept in. He was unconscious, but was becoming stable as the time progressed; the doctor reassured that he’s be put in a regular hospital room by tomorrow morning, if his condition got better at night.

Three cups of coffee from the local machine for you, and four for Minho. The two of you didn’t utter a word in the last few hours; however, you didn’t need to. You found each other’s presence comforting, and the silence wasn’t awkward — it was supportive in some way. You brought snacks, remembering how Chan mentioned Lee Know loving cheese flavored chips; and he bought you a latte, also learning from Chan it was your favourite coffee. It never ceased to amaze how Chris memorized every little detail about the people he loved; and now, sitting there, scrolling the news absent-mindedly, you knew, finally knew that he loved you too. But did it really matter now? No. The only thing that you cared about was him to wake up and be okay. Your feelings, your love had been waiting for half a year, they would be able to wait one more day.

Chan’s manager was there too: he was marching from one corner of the hall to another, declining calls and responding to some of them, just to scream at the reporters through the phone and aggressively sip on his coffee.

“Han, cut it off”, Minho almost moaned, after another series of loud stomps from Jisung. “Go home and wait for my call”.

“Go home?” Jisung narrowed his eyes. “And do what, exactly? Sit down and watch TV?”.

An exasperated sigh left Lee Know’s mouth. “I dunno. Anything. You’re only being annoying here”.

“Minho”. You said quietly. They both had a temper, throwing tantrums like toddlers wasn’t an unusual occasion for them. But not in the hospital, not while Chan was here.

“Alright”, Han sat down; slapping his knees, he leaned back and closed his eyes. “I’ll be quiet until I get another call from those vultures”.

“So, you’ll be quiet for three seconds?”

“Shut the hell up, Minho”.

Sandwiched between two similar, dominating personalities, you felt the atmosphere shift, from the irritation to quietness once again. The idea of Minho and Jisung shutting their mouths even for three seconds seemed to be the best one so far.

You followed Han’s example and leaned back, feeling the coldness of the wall through you shirt. Eunjoo had been texting every hour, checking on you and the situation, and even used a contraction once. You gave a half smile after receiving the message — to use informal grammatical forms was unacceptable for Eunjoo; that’s how you knew: she was worried too. Yeah, everyone was.

Closing your eyes, you heard Minho sigh and mumble something; he was probably cursing at the news on the net, where every “celebrity source” had been delivering information about Chan. Most of it was fake, because the press didn’t know anything but the fact of the accident. You also wanted to be famous once; however, now you were glad you weren’t.

You didn’t even notice how the heavy weight of the day started lifting from your shoulders, dozing you off. You didn’t realize how long you were asleep, but you were dreaming the entire time.

“Doesn’t it seem weird to you?” Chan asked, chewing on another strawberry from the bowl.

“What exactly?” You were exhausted because of the heat; lying on the couch in his family’s country house, a fan blowing directly at you, you only wished to be put in an ice bath.

“That you don’t feel anything”, he leaned back to the couch, head turned to face you. “This is what you’re saying all the time, isn’t it?”

“Dunno what you’re talking about”, you muttered, breaking off the eye contact.

“You do”, he stood up from the floor and flopped on the couch — precisely on your legs. You groaned and tried to set yourself free, but he didn’t even move a muscle.

“Get off!”

“Not until you tell me the truth”.

“What ‘truth’ d’you wanna know?”

“Why do you pretend to be heartless?” His question hit right home, right where your therapist had hit you thousand times already.

It was difficult to appear a heartless bitch to Chan, he saw right through you. And if you told him now… That would be a good way to start opening up, your therapist would admit it as progress. But could you really open up? Could you let him peek through your walls, the ones you had put long time ago to protect yourself from pain? Could you let him know everything so that he’d be able to hurt you?

Could you let yourself be vulnerable in front of your best friend?

“It’s easier”, you shrugged your shoulders. “Helps me live in this world”.

“You never told me why it’s easier”.

“There’s no reason”.

“Really? Your dad isn’t a reason either?”

“Why are you asking me all these weird questions, Chan?”

He let out an exhausted sigh. “Because I care about you, tiger. And I’m worried ‘cause you never share. I wanna help you, if you ever need me to”.

“Thanks. But I’m okay. No need to worry”.

He never asked again. You never brought it up. You had no clue he hadn’t accepted your answer, he was just waiting. Waiting till you came to him, tugged at his sleeve and let him take your pain and worries away by listening and being there, by letting you know that he wanted to hear everything you had to say. But you never did. And so he waited.

You didn’t know he chose that, but you decided to wait too. As long as it took for him to wake up, get better, you’d wait. For him, you’d wait for eternity.

A week and a half had passed since the accident. Chan was still unconscious.

The doctors said his concussion had caused such a condition and didn’t give any promises on when he would wake up. Just unclear prognoses to his parents, telling them he was stable enough to come back. They were hopeful; you tried to follow their example and put on reassuring smiles; Minho, on the other hand, started getting too realistic with his negativity. Eventually, he collapsed on the floor in the hospital room, sobbing, while you were sitting there too, trying to hug him, to help him let it out. Though, the two of you couldn’t even imagine how hard it was for his parents.

Taking your bag and closing your apartment door, you had yet another ride in the elevator to go straight to the hospital before work. Your boss was understanding enough not to penalize you for leaving on the day of the accident.

The underground, then the bus. A ten-minute walk to the hospital, talking to Chan’s parents, catching Minho before leaving, sharing breakfast with him. The usual ritual, the one you started getting used to, unfortunately.

However, today you came out of the bus thirty minutes before you regular schedule. With your punctuality issue, you wanted to appear strictly on time. And so the coffee shop you had always passed by on the way seemed like a good idea.

Not many customers, a couple of people occupying two tables respectively. Soft music was playing in the background, and the barista smiled at you, offering you their drink of the day.

“I’ll have a latte. With, uh, banana syrup”.

The girl at the counter said something about five minutes, and you nodded, taking a step back and started observing the menu absent-mindedly.

“You don’t change your coffee habits, do you?”

A very familiar voice. Furrowing your brows, you turned around to face grinning Yugyeom, whom you hadn’t seen for what seemed like eternity.

“Yugyeom?”

A stupid question to ask the man, standing in front of you in the flesh. But he nodded, the corners of his mouth still turned up. You returned the smile almost automatically, as you used to do, when the two of you were together.

“Are you in a rush?” He asked. “We could… talk”, he pointed at his table, and you nodded. Having asked the barista to bring you the cup, you sat down in the corner of the cafe, Yugyeom in front of you.

“Didn’t know you were back”, you uttered.

“Came back around seven months ago. I got a job offer here”.

“Where?”

The name of the company didn’t speak volumes to you, but it didn’t matter. For some reason, seeing his face during such a moment seemed like a message. Maybe everything would be alright.

“I heard what happened to Chan”, he continued, eyes glued to your face. “Are you okay?”

“Im fine”, you huffed, taking a sip of the coffee.

“You don’t have to lie”, his voice was soft, silky almost, and long time ago it drove you to dizziness all the time. “I know when you do”.

“Why didn’t you show up after coming back?”

Yugyeom tilted his head back and let out a laugh. “Changing the subject, as always”.

“I did it, so don’t change it back”.

He crossed his arms at the chest, his drink long forgotten. “I did show up. Turned up to your apartment complex, like an idiot-“

“How did you get my address?”

“Asked your parents”.

You sighed. Of course. “Why ‘like an idiot’?”

His mouth twisted; you knew he was being nervous when he did that. Why would he be nervous?

“‘Cause… I still hoped for something, y’know. We never… We never said it was over forever. So I thought, hoped we’d go back together eventually. And, uh, when I came back… I wanted to come back to you too”.

You lowered you head, watching yourself clenching and unclenching your fists. You two never drew the line in your breakup, really, but when two years had passed, you couldn’t wait for Yugyeom’s magical comeback anymore. And so the flings became relationships, endless circles of hell, until you reached the ninth, the one with the devil himself.

“So I bought your favourite flowers. Got dressed up, thought I’d take to the restaurant you wanted to go to when we were in college. And I was waiting for you”.

You cleared your throat. “You didn’t… We didn’t meet back then”.

“Yeah, we didn’t”, he nodded. “I spent a couple of hours in my car. And then I saw you, coming out of the building. With Chan. Uh, I mean, that wasn’t a problem, you are friends after all, I thought. But when… When you two basically started, uh, making out on the car hood, it was pretty clear you… That you wouldn’t be delighted to see me”.

You felt your ears burning; holy shit. You remembered the night: it was the second week of your the new and still mysterious affair with Chris; the tension was so palpable you could cut right through it. It ended up with the two of you kissing everywhere, in any dark corner, where no one could see you. And you were scared someone would; however, you could have never imagined the person who actually did see you was Yugyeom.

Maybe if he did show up, interrupting you and Chan, maybe, you thought, you wouldn’t have gotten into this mess. There would have been no tears, no emotionally draining sex, no breakup texts, and no accidents. Maybe Chan would have been at home now, quietly watching TV in safety. Not in a hospital room, injured, unconscious.

“I don’t know what to say, Yugyeom”, you muttered under your breath.

“Don’t say anything”, he asserted. “I’m not guilt-tripping you. It’s been too long. The fact that I haven’t moved on doesn’t mean you haven’t either”.

You were going to answer, but your phone started buzzing. Seeing the name on the screen, your heart skipped a bit, expecting to hear the worst.

“Minho?”

“He woke up. Come here now”.

Taglist:

@heylookwhoitis @amaranth-writing @itstorimf

[phantomenby]

Huh?

Request: Could I have an imagine with the poly lost boys with a gn partner who is very good at making people feel dumb? They can insult anyone and make them double check their words as they didn't realize reader was insulting them.

Make sure to stay hydrated and please message me if you need more clarification. Stay well!!

Thank u I am drinking dehydrate jooce

TW: violence, othering, a bit gory

David's eyes flickered in your direction when he heard your deep intake of breath, watching your face grow darker as the college guys Marko and Dwayne had chosen for the night went on and on about their stupid college-business-internship-shit you didn't care to hear about for another second.

So far one of them had wrongly explained both the stock market and tax laws, while the other boasted about how his parents think taxes are just used to give handouts to lazy people.

David nudged you as your fists began to curl, "wanna go?"

No you shook your head subtly, you didn't want to leave you wanted to murder them.

Even the usually hardy Paul had begun to make less than playful jests towards the pair a few times, one of his hands slowly gripping Dwayne's thigh tighter in order to make his intentions clear.

I mean, they're going to die anyway, sometimes they would survive, you didn't need to eat often but when emotions were high and someone particularly grated on your nerves they practically wrote their own death sentence.

Deciding to finally butt in you leaned forward, bare arms crossed on the old wooden picnic table, taking your chance as 'Darren' or 'Dudebro numero uno' was in the middle of a spiel about how the government was really full of communists who hated America-

"Hey, you know what I just love," everyone's eyes lifted to look at you, dudebro numero dos giving you a less than enjoyable glance over, you flashed your teeth at him before moving back to Darren, "I love how easy it is just just like, print more money, and fix the economy."

You were, how did Marko put it last time, 'talking out of your ass'? Like honestly, who even needed to take some boring, stressful economics class when money was- wait you should be saying this-

"I mean, money isn't real," numero dos - or Moe as you now recalled - clenched his jaw, "so we can just print more y'know, then everyone is ri-"

"Thats not how it works-" Darren tsked, making Marko smirk beside him as he turned his eyes back to his date, "if you actually went to some form of um, education-"

"Actually I went to Yale," that was true, only it had been back in 1873 and you were most definitely not there as a student, more of a diner, "and trust me, none of those dunderheads treated money like it was real."

At least not until they were begging for their life.

That stunned them both for a moment until the two of them decided to go for you together, mimicking your pose, but draping themselves much futher across the table than you had.

"If you went to Yale then what college were you in, hmm?"

You scoffed, shrugging and responding just as plainly, "the business one obviously-"

"There isn't a business college."

"Yes there is."

Moe straightened up, irritation lining his brow, "no there isn't-"

You cut him off, "did you go to Yale?"

The human spluttered, caught "well- well no but that-"

"So how would you know?" You had them now.

Moe tried again, "that doesn't matter, it's public information-"

"Yet you, and your genius friend, don't know all twenty-three Yale colleges?" There were only fourteen. Max.

The man might as well have combusted into fire and ash on the spot with your last few words.

Darren brought you back to him with a long, drawn-out breath like he was trying to suck everyone into his lungs. "Listen, bud, people like us know more than people like you-"

"Yet you didn't know that there was a business college at Yale, sounds as though people like you don't know as much as you think you do."

You stood from the table, hearing the two men follow you while your pack waited behind, letting you enjoy yourself with them.

Paul turned to Marko while you disappeared into an area hidden by some trees and thick overgrowth, "told you they were duds dude."

Marko rolled his eyes, letting his gaze move to Dwayne who was lighting up a joint, reaching for it as soon as the brunette was done.

He knew Paul was right, he just didn't like when it meant him being wrong.

The four of them listened on as the far-off screaming began, musing about their day like you hadn't just stomped Moe's femur while Darren garbled through his lack of vocal cords.

It didn't take long for you to finish up, returning to them with a few extra stains but just in time to finish the third smoke that had been lit in your time away.

"Next time we should just eat them."

Dwayne grinned in agreement, looking where you stood across from him, "next time."

[fizzigigsimmer]

i wanna hear about all your fics!! so bachelor au, blinding baby like city lights, news paper au and love aint fair at all!!

Ahh bless you nonny. Some of these are still just outlines but a few have chapters posted.

Starting with OUTLINES

The Bachelor Au: This is still one of my favorite ideas lol, born of my love of the insanity that is the bachelor franchise and the poorly concealed producer plants who are clearly just there for the drama. You can't tell me Billy wouldn't make a perfect Chad. The gist is Steve is the first Bisexual bachelor contestant. An icon, An American sweetheart looking for love. Robin and The Party are crew members and all the stranger things teens are contestants (Nancy, Chrissy, Eddie, Jason, Argyle, Heather) vying for his hand and represent various types of typical bachelor contestants. The funny ones, the good guys, the people there for clout, the people who somehow think they can get away with going on a dating show while still involved in a situationship back home, and the people who decide to do a reality show instead of go to therapy for their bag of issues. Billy is an instagram model hired by producers to be the seasons 'villian' and be hated by the audience. It's just supposed to be a free vacation where he gets to make some extra cash to be his most extra before he's finally sent home. But oops, they fall in love. Leaving them to figure out how they build a life together after the show when there are NDA's involved and they are the most hated ship in America.

Newspaper Club Au: This is a no upside down college fic featuring Billy/Nancy friendship, nerd!billy and jock!Steve. I haven't decided yet whether it's modern, 80s, or an ambiguous setting but the basic gist is the boys meet in college. Steve is there on a sports scholarship and chose California to follow Nancy, now his ex-girlfriend. Billy's an English major who works on the school paper with Nancy (one of his electives). He's pissed when she puts him on the sports column as it means he actually has to attend the games. He starts using the column to flirt with/aka harass swimmer Steve through increasingly ridiculous and suggestive commentary. The campus thinks it's a riot. Steve thinks Billy's an asshole and making him the butt of a joke just because he's a "dumb jock". Nancy plays matchmaker and also saves the integrity of her paper by finagling Billy into helping Steve write an essay for his English literature elective. Billy takes the opportunity to show him he was 1000 percent serious about wanting to know if his dick is even bigger out of the speedo.

Onto the POSTED fics

Blinding Baby Like City Lights: Is a dom/sub au where everyone is either a dominant, submissive, or switch. Basically some people need to dominate to stay balanced and others need to submit, or some mix of the two. And everyone responds differently to different things, creating many different 'types.' Naturally not all types are good for each other. Billy is a masochistic sub, has known it for a long time but wasn't safe to explore it growing up with an abusive sadist for a father. He's managed to claw his way out of his abusive home and become a successful business man who is often mistaken for a dom. He found family in Heather & Chrissy, but never a dominant he can trust enough to handle him and give him exactly what he needs. Steve's a recovering sadist. Too much privilege and neglectful parents lead him to some pretty unhealthy and toxic tendencies in his relationship with his first love Nancy. Losing his sub nearly broke him, but he broke good and has been rebuilding his life with his best friend Robin for the last few years. He just wants to take care of people by making good food, and find someone he can take care of always, without having to be afraid of his own desires. Steve might just be perfect for Billy, and Billy might just be what Steve needs to finally embrace who he is.

*** EDIT

When you have so many WIPs you confuse two of them.

Love Aint Fair At All: Werewolf au + a/b/o dynamics. This is a retelling of Snow White that takes place in an alternate version of Hawkins where magic exists. Some peoples magic makes them Wolf Shifters (people who are born with the ability to turn into wolves) and others use their magic to bend the external elements, these people are called Hags. Steve lives in the Cold Zone, a portion of the country that is suffering under a powerful Hags curse. Billy is a Wolf Shifter, exiled from their former pack in California, he and Neil make their way as huntsmen for hire. But everything goes to shit wen Neil brings the family to Hawkins to serve Steve's cousin Elsie, a powerful and mysterious Hag whose obsession with beauty and power threatens to cover the world in ice. The only thing holding her at bay is an old curse that limits her powers and a prophecy that promised one day an omega child would be born who was fairer than her. Good thing Steve is a perfectly normal bland beta boy - until he isn't.

[loonywriter]

A Walk in the Woods

I never fully understood why in small towns people usually hangout in grocery stores or parking lots. Personally I like to be closer to my family and do things out doors. We’ll go hiking or go deep in the mountains and stay next to a waterfall. We’d always find new ways to keep things interesting, although sometimes someone will get hurt; it was always good fun though.

Every Monday someone in my family will choose what to do, and this time it was my turn, and so I chose my favorite place; the woods. The forest protected our small town so everywhere you went there was always something new to find. Most people try not to go into the woods because of all the supposed bear attacks and missing people, but it was too beautiful to pass up.

We’ve set up camp in the woodlands just outside the local high school. Since this is my first time running our hangout, I am in charge of everything. Where we will go,the food,what we are doing,and how many days we’ll be out there. Honestly it was pretty nice finally being in charge. My parents usually want the ones in charge to be twenty or older. Since this was my twenty second birthday it was also going to be my little birthday treat.

My dad was showing me how to put up little flags, so we know where we are and not to get lost. He was showing me all kinds of things, my favorite was making the fire. Since Dad was always the one to organize our hangouts, I wanted to ask for some advice on my plan.

“I wanted to talk about what we are going to do. I know this is my first time running our hangouts but I really wanted it to be perfect. Well I hope it’s perfect I kn-”

“Annie, stop with the rambling and spit it out already.”

“Okay! okay I’m sorry, I just thought it would be nice if we had another member of the family, if you know what i’m getting at.”

He paused, his face turned away from me looking out into the woods. He seemed to be deep in thought. I had a twisted feeling in the pit in my stomach. What if he didn’t like my plan? What if he thought we weren’t ready? There are so many possibilities that could be going through his mind,it scared me.

“This is a big thing to think about, but if you have everything ready then we should be fine. Are you ready?”

—

I smiled up at my dad, bouncing with each step. I was so excited I couldn't wait for everyone to know.

I told him all about my plan. A step by step process on what to do, what not to do, and how to do it correctly; making sure everything works out. Most of the time we’ve always been successful but there would be a few times that they get away but dad made sure to always give us an engaging speech so we’re not left discouraged.

We made it back to camp in no time and dad started to call everyone for a family meeting, since It’s my turn to organize everything, I also had to lead the meeting. I don’t even know how my siblings will think of it, especially my mom. I know it was really hard on her when she first came into our family but she warmed up and I could even say she loves us but whenever we mention a new family member she gets fidgety and quiet.

“Okay I’m just going to spit it out, I want a new sibling.I know this is a huge thing to even think about but please trust me I have a plan.”

“And why should we trust you? This is your first time hosting a hangout and you automatically want to jump in the deep end. It took years before I could ask for a sibling and by the way that’s when you came in.”

Of course Courtney would say something! Just because she was one of the oldest doesn’t mean she can just butt into my plans without letting me finish. I looked over at dad hoping for some encouragement but instead I saw him holding my mom close rubbing her arm as she played with her fingers.

“Dammit I know this is a lot but can you just trust me or at least hear me out.” I can feel the pinch in my forehead growing tense. My body shaking as I grew angry. Turning away from Courtney as I take a breath to calm down. Once I felt like I could handle myself, I turned back to my family. I could see just from their faces and body language that they all had mixed emotions on getting a new sibling.

But at this moment I didn’t care if they didn’t agree, they’re going to get one.

—

I can see my breath following me as I chase after our new addition. I pull my fur covered hood over me to blend into my surroundings. Hiding behind a giant oak tree watching as you catch your breath. Seeing as you look around scaredly as if a monster is chasing after you, but it’s not a monster, it's your new family.

Making my way through the woods inching closer and closer without you noticing. A loud crack is heard under my feet. I see you look around in the dark trying to find something you can’t see. Good instincts we definitely need someone like that in our family, I knew I chose good.

Twirling my claw like a grappling hook ready to catch my prize.

I watched you grow, watched you be raised into a family that doesn’t care for you. Now I finally have the chance to bring you into our home and love and care for you like a family should. I was just like you once, brought into a family that wouldn’t care for me like the one I have now. If it wasn’t for my older sister I would still be trapped in that so-called “family”. I won't let that happen to another.

My homemade grappling hook wraps around your ankle and dragging you down the forest floor. I can hear my family running over. Hearing light swooshing from their very own hooks. The way it swings in the air and grips into your skin was just so appealing. Your quiet cries rang like music in my ears. My plan is working; everything is going so perfectly, you aren’t even screaming.

I dropped my grappling hook knowing you can’t get away while our family has their hands on you. Reaching into my pocket and pulling out a small glass vial as I make way towards you. Crouching down at your level. Seeing sweet tears glistening down your cheeks.

“Shhh, we wouldn’t want to waste your energy on tears now would you.” The back of my hand meets your soft cheek as I wipe away your tears. “I know this isn’t the best way of meeting your new family but I know you’ll love us, just give it time.”

[mamaspeckles]

I’ll be okay sweetheart ❤️❤️❤️ Thank you and thank you all for your concern and care, it really does make me feel so loved and special

We’ve already figured out who it was that sent me that message, amongst other messages that she’s sent. Her name’s Daisy and she was someone that I thought I could trust in my discord group chat. I feel betrayed and hurt if I’m being honest….but we’ve confronted her and to make a long story short? She’s doubled down about how she just got jealous because? “I was able to make a genuine connection with someone”? Which I don’t understand? I thought I had a real connection with her like I did with my other discord friends and like I did with you? A part of me feels disappointed with myself that I didn’t see this sooner. I feel like I could’ve helped her so she didn’t feel like she had to do this ☹️ A part of me feels guilty because she’s completely cut herself off from all of us and she’s just deleted all of her social media’s and I feel so anxious that I’ve caused all of this 😞

But I want to preface and really drill in that this has NOTHING to do with you!!!! She’s unfortunately always been a very jealous person. And it doesn’t bring me any joy to say this, but I think she’s always been very jealous of me in particular. I don’t think she’s ever really been a genuine person, and I feel stupid that I didn’t see this sooner. It’s made me feel more difficult to trust people…..but I trust you and very very much ❤️❤️❤️❤️

I’m so so sorry that because of me and my bullshit I’ve potentially brought on any stress and worries. This was the LAST thing that I wanted when I started sending little headcanons and stories, I just wanted to bring some comfort and happiness. But if you’re still okay with it, the Woman fanfic will be finished as soon as possible ❤️❤️❤️ I won’t stop unless you want me to ❤️❤️❤️

I'm really sorry you had to go through that, it sounds incredibly tough. But please don't blame yourself for Daisy's actions. You're such a kind and genuine person, and it's clear how much you care about your friends and making others happy including me. I appreciate everything you do and send me, and I want you to know that I support you fully💋. And if it ever came to it, I'd absolutely stand by your side and literally bitch fight Daisy for you idc😩 Remember, you're not responsible for Daisy's actions or how she chose to handle her jealousy she is toxic and doesn’t deserve anything nice until she learns how to grow up. please don't let her actions shake your trust in others. You have a genuine connection with so many people, including me, and that's something special.❤️ I admire your resilience and your determination to continue spreading happiness despite the challenges you're facing. Keep being the amazing person you are, and know that I'm here to support you through it all.💕 I will also keep on repeating what I been saying and that is “ I never felt uncomfortable or harassed by gramma and absolutely love and even feel flustered when she sends me stories! I love gramma and gramma loves me!”

And If it ever comes the day I find this putas burras Tumblr page i will faça-a sentir o que ela fez você se sentir e faça-a chorar como um bebê grande. No one messes with gramma or anyone that I care about. Go get some form of help Daisy. Ya clearly need it. If you were that jealous and butt hurt ya could’ve said it on call to grammas face instead of like I said using a anonymous proxy you coward. I am sick of seeing people like you hurt kind and funny souls like gramma. I won’t be more controlled with my words if this happens again. Count your days cadela.

✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞

[bonkersbon]

Random rants because I couldn't sleep all night

Insomnia is a bitch

But here it goes (and yes I'm sober just prob crazy🤔)

Teenagers are not TEENS 13 and Adults are not grown adults at 18

It is wild to me that this world expects so much from literal CHILDREN! children

They question why they are trialing kids are adults as early as 12 years old

Because they're making adult decisions and expected to as early as 13

Thirteen is not a damn teen

They're children and no one is treating them so

I used to get offended at the reference “it all starts at home” Or blaming the parents

It isn't 100 on the parents, let's face it! This world and social media now play a massive role in our children's minds and all the medications they're on for this or that

But the problem is the parenting and then society

We're an oxymoron

If you are raising your kids right then, at 13, they're still playing with Barbies and board games and monster trucks and making slime and playing hide and seek

That is what children do

And people are raising their kids so messed up that 12 year old ARE OUT COMMITTING crimes, having the deed and doing things they can't comprehend

They're combative and fight and get abusive with the officers and society as they do at home because of how they're being taught

They're skipping school and not knowing how to make decisions and then end up homeless

The statistics are all there, and history after history, people are repeating the same shit messing up their kids, and now the issue with kids is technology and being overstimulated

Take that technology away and see how long they can sit still

How many kids mimic everything they see

Idolization and profound misconception of what is socially acceptable or morally right. See it on TV. They mimic it

Even hurting others

There are so many hidden agendas everywhere you go

With what people sell wear and advertise

Ten year olds wearing makeup and not believing they are pretty how do they even know to talk like that or be like that

Their innocence is robbed, but parents can play a huge role

They slip away from you and grow up no matter how much you try to shelter or protect them

It'll happen

But a teen is not a teen, and an 18 isn't an adult

Protect your damn kids from this world

Raise them teach them and damn educate them

Protect them, shelter them, and do whatever you must as a parent to raise your kid to be a good kid! And a morally good one, too! Who helps others not be damn delulu babies and filled with weird jealousy and malice — always trying to compete — for what? Your spot quicker to the ultimate destination?

So many parents fail their kids, and they fail them so early on

But what I'm mad at right now is society as a whole expecting kids to grow up too fast and know too much too fast. And then, on top of it, not raising them with proper discipline so when they're “adults,” they're out there tearing up this world. And then you all question why?! I wonder why so many kids out there doing petty crimes then acting out like four-year-olds in the judicial system and getting slaps on the wrist and sent back out for the parents to take no responsibility and blame it on the system

It starts at home

And anyone who believes differently is delusional and can fight me over it

They need to bring back old school butt whoppings and for the love of god ladies and gentleman stop kicking your kids out at 18! They ain't grown

They can't afford to live on their let alone make grown decisions. Let them live at home and push for them to get an education and or an excellent job

Push for kids to help parents more. We don't help elderly and that is because we haven't taught our kids to

We in America kick our kids out at 18 and put our family into nursing homes

Live at home take care of each other and help each other and learn right do right and be right

Be kind

The selfishness and malice and generational dysfunction will always make me mad

And trust me I'm not speaking from a glass house

How I grew up and how I've chose to parent hasnt been a walk in the park

But I communicate

My kids are KIDS, and they have hearts and souls, and feelings beyond what society even gives them time for, and raising good kids in this fucked up world isn't easy. But seeing it all come to shit sucks! Navigating thru it sucks and having to teach my kids about ignoring certain people in life is so sad

To teach them all the dangers and reality is already sad

Why would I want to push them on their own to face that already at only 18

It starts at home, with parenting

Love your kids! And they are kids! Children! Tiny innocent beings with huge imaginations that want love and to discover

We'd have many better people if parenting styles and dysfunction weren't so THERE! Like just why does it even have to be a thing anymore

When will we do better

Abuse or drugs or addiction or mental illness will never be a reason to be a shitty person or a shitty parent, and I fear for my children ever to feel unloved or get hurt by this world, but it'll happen, but why would I actively treat them like an adult or teen way beyond the appropriate time

I just don't understand it anymore and I don't want to

I'm just going to keep mentally fighting to stay strong thru the Bullshit

Cuz parenting with other parents is hard

Adulting with other adults is even harder

[t0wardthesun]

My Body and Me; a Love Story.

There was a time when I thought I would never write this post. The battle against my body seemed to be the one mountain I would never climb. I would go around in circles, coming up against the same obstacles; bingeing, emotional eating, restrictive dieting and hating what I saw when I looked in the mirror. I honestly thought it was something I would struggle with for the rest of my life. I think every woman knows this journey, some have walked the path before, others are waiting to begin - each of us up against years of conditioning, programming and subconscious messaging designed to keep us small (literally). This is the story of how I took my power back, went from self loathing to self love and healed my relationship with food and my body.

It’s Australia Day, 2008. My sister and I are riding our bikes around the small town we grew up in, jumping in and out of the crystal clear water wherever we can find the space. The path along the creek is teeming with families and kids our age walking around drinking UDL’s and cans of Smirnoff. Despite already being self conscious about my fifteen year old body, I’m feeling particularly brave wearing just a pair of shorts and my bikini top.

As we climb out of the water and mount our bikes to head home, a guy a few years older than me walks passed with his girlfriend. He looks me up and down and slurs, “Yeah, keep riding,” with a smirk on his face. His girlfriend slaps him playfully, looking back over her shoulder to mouth an apology, but it’s too late. My stomach drops, my world crumbles. Everything I ever feared about myself is true. I'm not attractive, I'm not desirable, I’m not worthy and I’m not enough.

I scroll pro-ana blogs and experiment to see how long I can go without food. I practice putting two fingers down my throat, trying to dredge up the shame I swallowed with that second chocolate brownie. I lament to my mother about the size and softness of my stomach, she shows me which ab exercises reduce belly fat.

My breasts grow almost overnight and suddenly I’m the subject of gossip and the butt of jokes. Relatives and strangers comment on my changing shape, as though my body is public domain to be deliberated. I learn that my body is not my own. I walk into the kitchen after dinner out with friends, “You can’t possibly still be hungry.” I learn that my bodies signals can’t be trusted.

I hold myself up against billboards and pictures on the internet and they all tell me one thing; shrink. Shrink and you will be beautiful, and before anything else, beautiful is what you should aspire to be. I stand in front of the mirror and pinch, suck, poke and prod. I squeeze a tape measure around every inch of skin, using the numbers to define how much I’m worth that week. I hide in the pantry, looking for something to fill me. My mind blanks as I reach for packets and jars, a brief reprieve before the guilt kicks in and I berate myself ceaselessly for a lack of self control.

I’m desperate to be noticed. I crave being seen. I take photos on my phone and send them to boys. When I’m drowning in a sea of insecurity, their shallow compliments keep me afloat.

I grew up believing that “big” was the worst thing a person could be. Worse than being mean, selfish or boring, it was the ultimate failure. The subconscious messaging I received was that being skinny was synonymous with being happy. That having the perfect body somehow made you immune to sadness or other negative emotions. Like, how bad could things possibly get if you looked amazing in a bikini? If you were thin then people paid attention to you; boys wanted to be with you and other girls wanted to be like you. To be thin, was to be beautiful - and to be beautiful was to be adored, cherished, loved. Life was an endless exodus away from fatness and toward thinness.

You can imagine the war that started internally when my e-cup boobs came in overnight. Dance costumes had to be altered, bras and bikinis had to be special ordered and I was constantly asking for a bigger size in change rooms. The changes in my body sparked a downward spiral in my self esteem. In my mind, with every kilo I gained I was becoming less important; my ideas less valid, personality less loveable and my dreams less achievable.

By the time I was sixteen, my body was a tool I used to validate my dwindling sense of self worth. I used it when it suited me, to get attention and validation from guys. The more I was willing to show of it and the more I was willing to do with it, the more approval I got. It made me feel powerful. I traded recognition for respect and mistook attention for love. The rest of the time I either berated it with criticism or ignored it completely.

For most of my teens and early twenties, I felt like a floating head walking around completely disconnected from my body. I didn’t identify as my body, it felt like an annoying attachment that kept betraying me by not doing what I wanted it to do or looking the way I wanted it to look. I hated how easily I could be brought down or carried away by the emotions that arose inside me; a wave of insecurity that would leave me hiding under the covers for days, a flash of anger that always left a wake of destruction in its path. It was too risky and far too painful living in my body, so I checked out. For almost a decade, I didn’t look down in the shower and I couldn’t touch my stomach without a wave of nausea flooding through me. I dreaded walking past mirrors or shop fronts and I used to yell at my mum for taking photos of me when I wasn’t looking.

By the time I left home at eighteen, it became apparent that in addition to my negative body image, I had also developed a pretty damaging relationship with food. Food was my anchor and my security blanket. When everything else in my life was uncertain, I could always count on the jar of peanut butter in the fridge. I would use food to suppress negative emotions; discomfort, anxiety, boredom. Even positive emotions - excitement, joy, happiness - were always accompanied by something to eat. It was as though I couldn’t bare to feel anything fully, so I sought a way to dull the experience.

I would spend hours researching different diets and exercise programs, getting confused and overwhelmed by the mass of conflicting information. Was yoghurt good for me, or bad? Should I be eating carbs with every meal or cut them out altogether? Should I be vegetarian, vegan, paleo or #sugarfree? Is running 5k’s burning fat or telling my body to hold on? I would walk around the grocery store with tears in my eyes, totally overwhelmed by all the choices and torn between what I wanted so desperately and what I thought I should be eating.

“Compulsive eating is basically a refusal to be fully alive. No matter what we weigh, those of us who are compulsive eaters have anorexia of the soul. We refuse to take in what sustains us. We live lives of deprivation, and when we can't stand it any longer, we binge.”

- Geneen Roth, Women, Food and God

Before I even knew what it was, bingeing was a regular part of my life. If had a bad day, a fight with my parents or an assignment due, bingeing offered an incredibly effective distraction. There was no thought or awareness, I would stand at the fridge and put whatever was on the shelf into my mouth. Because I refused to have anything unhealthy in the house, bingeing usually meant raiding my housemates cupboards for whatever had the highest sugar or fat content; four slices of toast with tablespoons of honey, two wraps, half a packet of biscuits and coconut oil straight from the jar. It wasn’t until after I had consumed the entire contents of my kitchen that the guilt kicked in. I felt totally helpless and completely out of control.

The promise of a diet is not only that you will have a different body; it is that in having a different body, you will have a different life. 

In 2013, I lost nine kilos leading up to my twenty first birthday. I was eating broccoli with chicken or tinned tuna for every almost meal and smashing myself in the gym 5-7 times a week. Everything in my life revolved around getting the numbers on the scale to drop. I kept a food diary on my phone and wrote down everything that passed my lips and at the end of the day I’d give myself a rating based on how ‘well’ I’d done. A smiley face meant it was a good day, an angry face meant I better try harder tomorrow.

I would measure and weigh myself in the morning and my mood for the entire day, and how I treated myself, depended on what I saw on the scale. I was obsessed with #fitspo blogs and instagram accounts and would spend hours drooling over photos of girls lifting weights or posing effortlessly in bikinis. I would deprive myself all week and have a ‘cheat day’ on the week end, which usually meant buying a block of chocolate on the way home from the gym and making myself sick by finishing off the whole thing in one sitting. A few weeks before my birthday I started taking OxyElite and would happily pop four a day - made me shake and pee constantly - completely ignoring the liver failure warning on the label.

But even when I was at my skinniest, my anxiety didn’t fade and I wasn’t any happier. I still had bad days and moments when I felt unworthy and insecure, and I was so preoccupied maintaining my new weight, I didn’t have time to focus on anything else or enjoy my life. As soon as my birthday was over and I didn’t have a goal to work towards, the weight came back and the battle raged on.

As I watched women my mums age berate themselves for eating an extra slice of cake, apologise for taking up too much space and obsess over their physical ‘flaws’, I started to think maybe this was just part of life as a woman. I hated the idea of passing my insecurities on to my future daughter, but I couldn’t see a way to break the cycle.

So I started working with coaches, and read and listened to every intuitive eating, eating psychology and body positive book, blog post and podcast I could get my hands on. There wasn’t one pivotal moment, but a series of small but deeply significant revelations that helped me improve my relationship with food and lead me back to my physical body…

1. I got angry.

When I discovered the extent to which mainstream media tries to keep us small - literally - as a form of disempowerment, I got angry. By making thinness the ideal and celebrating women who shrink, we get the message that we are not allowed to take up space, a subconscious belief that ingrains itself in our collective psyche. It’s the same belief that stops us from speaking up when we are being taken advantage of, it stops us demanding more from partners who mistreat us, and it stops us creating epic shit and sharing our unique gifts with the world.

As I continued pulling back the veil to expose the corporate agenda behind our BS beauty standards, it got easier to rally against my own inner critic because I knew they were both just trying to stop me wielding the full force of my power as a conscious woman. A woman confident in her own skin is no longer an obedient consumer, she no longer drains her time, energy and resources trying to “fix herself”. She shows up fully as her authentic self. She is a force to be reckoned with.

2. I focused on my strengths.

That insta-famous bikini model posting photos of herself looking toned and tanned in various exotic locations? Yes, she could have done a lot of editing/had surgery/spend thousands on a celebrity trainer, but you know what? Some girls really look like that - and that’s amazing! Go them! You have your own set of unique gifts and God-given talents that are exactly what you need to enact your purpose on this earth, and they might not have anything to do with how you look. Say it with me now, “I was not born to be an instagram model.” (Unless you were, then carry on your merry way). Being trapped in jealousy or comparison usually means we aren’t fully embracing our Genius. Ask yourself, ‘What am I really good at? What do I LOVE?’ then go do that.

BODY IMAGE CHALLENGE: Take a look at the people you follow on social media. Do they make you feel more confident, or less? If you feel ‘icky’ every time you scroll through instagram, it might be time to do a social media cleanse and get rid of any accounts that don’t inspire you to feel good about yourself.

3. I shifted my perspective from the external to the internal.

My journey this year has been letting go of the belief that people will only listen to what I have to say if they like the package it comes in. As women, we are taught from such a young age that beauty equals success, and for so long I was hung up on this idea that in order for my thoughts, opinions or ideas to be taken seriously, I would need to measure up to societies standards of beauty. That belief kept me from showing up fully in my business and in my life. Bullshit!

How many of us are held back from the work we are meant to do and the joy we are meant to experience because of our obsession with living up to someone else’s idea of beauty? How many of us delay happiness and postpone joy, waiting until after we’ve lost the weight or dropped a dress size, to be active participants in sucking the marrow out of our lives?  

These days, I’m focusing less on impressing people with my looks and more on empowering them with my energy. I realised I would so much rather invest my time cultivating compassion, sharpening my intellect and developing the kind of inner radiance that inspires people than forcing my body to take on a shape that isn’t natural for me.

I get that some people absolutely love pushing their body to see how far it can go, but when I think about how much effort it took to maintain my ‘goal weight’, I can honestly say - for me, and my standards - it’s just not worth it. As with anything in life, you have to ask yourself, do you want it because that’s the experience your Soul is longing to have, or because everyone tells you that’s what you should want? Is it your dream or someone else’s?

BODY IMAGE CHALLENGE: Start a creative project that you can work on in your spare time. It could be a collection of short stories, a sketch pad full of drawings or a line of your own handmade clutches. Passion projects are good for the soul and you never know where they might lead ;) 

4. I let go of my obsession with losing weight.

After nearly a decade of trying to get smaller, the thought of giving up scared the shit out of me. I clung to diets because they gave me a purpose, losing weight made me feel accomplished. It was easier to write a meal plan than it was to map out a plan for my future. And it was easier trying to change my body than it was to change the world.

I also thought that if I wasn’t following a strict eating and exercise ‘plan’, I would completely lose control and binge until I was the size of a house. And for a while, I did go a little crazy. I had to rebuild the trust between me and my body. I needed to prove that I was sticking to my word this time and I wasn’t going to deprive it any more.

But when I stopped labelling foods as ‘good’ and ‘bad’ and started giving myself unconditional permission to eat whatever I wanted, eating an entire block of chocolate lost its appeal. I could have it, so I didn’t want it. If I did end up over eating, I quickly forgave myself and moved on. No judgement, criticism or shame, just unconditional acceptance. I quickly learnt that most of the time I didn’t actually want the chocolate, I wanted the way it made me feel; worthy, deserving, full.

Instead of using food to suppress my emotions, I wanted to tap into my bodies natural wisdom. I started by opening up the lines of communication. I wrote her letters in my journal, apologising for all the times I had ignored her, made her sick and used her to satisfy my ego desires. I promised to take care of her, trust her and always ask her what she needed. I spoke to her like I would my best friend or little sister. Much to my delight, she started talking back.

I’m sorry.

I know.

I love you.

I love you too.

Today, my relationship with my body feels like rekindling a romance with a long lost lover; we’re both still marvelling at all the things we can do together, getting excited about what this means for our future and falling more in love with each other every day. Like any great relationship, ours is based on trust, communication and mutual respect. I speak kind words to my body, I don’t make her do things she doesn’t want to do, and I trust that she knows what she needs in any given moment. Sometimes that means making a big fat pasta dish, sometimes it means stopping when there’s still food left on the plate. I still apologise if I drink too much wine and wake up with a hangover. She forgives me and we go and do something to make us feel amazing again.

Exercise doesn’t feel like a chore, it’s a way to expend all the beautiful energy that runs through my body. I don’t slog it out at the gym to burn calories or punish myself for overeating, I move in ways that feel good. Lifting weights makes me feel powerful, dancing makes me feel sexy as hell. My body is an incredible vehicle I have been given to fully engage in this earthly experience, and I love it regardless of its shape or size.

I know this is an ongoing process - as my body changes, I will need to continue practicing self love and some times are going to be harder than others, but never again will I let insecurity hold me back (for too long). 

The beauty standards set by society will continue to change, but I reserve the right to decide what’s beautiful to me, and my definition of beauty is all encompassing - there is room for everyone. I am so excited to see - in our lifetime - a generation of women liberated from the shackles of self loathing, free to share their unique gifts with the world and I am so grateful for the women before me who have publicly embraced their bodies at every size.

Wherever you are on the journey, may these words guide your way home.

Do not be afraid to take up space. Consciously expand until your presence rivals galaxies. Should your body say anything about Who You Are, let it say nothing of willpower or self-control, let it tell the story of your curiosity, your bravery, your compassion. Should you seek to be less of anything, may you be less worried about making yourself look acceptable.

May the only picture of your progress be the feeling of expansion in your Spirit. When you go looking for validation or your sense of Self, may you go only to the Source of all Love that lives inside of you. 

May you appreciate your body as the temporary home your soul chose to inhabit. May you honor her sovereignty and listen to her wisdom. May you praise her in public and pleasure her in private.

When you look at your body may you see our mother earth incarnate; in every crevice and fault line, in the veins that run like rivers, in all the mountains and valleys that ripple across your skin. 

And when the time comes for you to leave, may it be with gratitude as the veil is lifted and the joy of returning to the infinite oneness from which you came... can no longer be contained.

Jae x

If you are looking for more on this topic, check out the recommended resources below. I also run a weekly circle called ‘Love the Skin You’re In’ and I’d love to have you along. (If you’re based in SE Qld / Northern NSW, check it out here > https://www.eventbrite.com.au/e/love-the-skin-youre-in-tickets-626697347637)

Recommended Resources

Embrace the documentary - https://bodyimagemovement.com/embrace-the-documentary/

The Well-Fed Woman - www.rachelwcole.com/blog

Poodle Science - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H89QQfXtc-k

I Didn’t Wake up Like this - https://www.buzzfeed.com/sonamkapoor/i-didnt-wake-up-like-this?utm_term=.clmdDBLaw#.kboeY8g6O

10 Principles of Intuitive Eating - http://www.intuitiveeating.com/content/10-principles-intuitive-eating

Psychology of Eating Podcast - http://psychologyofeating.com/podcasts/

Lauren Beckett, Body Love Coach - http://dropthestruggle.com/

[sleuthy-scientist]

In the beginning I adored Emily and Derek Morgan's friendship/partnership. They were both powerhouses and kicked butt like no one's business. I loved their professional partnership, and how they had each other's backs in the field.

I adored the bantering and interaction, especially when it was Emily, Spencer, and Derek, with their sibling like dynamics and teasing.

Derek was kind of Emily's first friend on the team. He originally instilled confidence and supported her when she was new, and under scrutiny from most of the others. But as time went on I didn't like how their friendship eventually developed.

I never liked when Derek got into the mindset that his opinion on a case was right and refused to listen to others. Then he'd get Pidgeonholed or tunnel vision and jump the gun. And when he turned out to be wrong he never really owned up to it or apologised. To me the is was probably his most toxic trait, that made me grow to dislike his character.

It destroyed me when Morgan jumped to conclusions about Emily during the whole Doyle story arc. The cruel comments he made, judging and shaming her for her past, were harsh and unfair.

I can understand that he of all people had difficulties trusting others. But Emily didn't deserve the things he said about her. She always supported and believed in him.

When she was brand new to the team and he was in trouble, she went to bat for him. Literally went out of her way to make sure his deep dark secret wasn't revealed. She risked her own safety using local officers who had bias against Morgan as her back up. So when she confronted their unsub, they couldn't be accused of framing someone else to free their teammate.

It irked me how quick Derek Morgan was to judge others sometimes. During Demonology, I despised how he didn't have Emily's back. Making it seem like even with the evidence, her instincts were wrong and her theory was too farfetched to be believable or pursued.

Sorry, not sorry for putting in my two cents, but I had high hopes for these two and their friendship. I'm glad they never got romantically involved as earlier flirting and deleted scenes hinted at.

[prettybutter-flyy]

An Overreaction: A short story.

Ugh. Why won’t I die?

I wake up. Again. Why? I stumble out of bed and head to the bathroom. When I look in the mirror, I try smiling at the man I see - but I don’t even recognize him. When did he age? When did bags begin growing under his eyes? When did he start losing his hair? I don’t feel like the spry, enthusiastic man I once prided myself on being.

In my youth, days started with a spring out of bed and gratitude for the chance to participate in society, to socialize, to connect, to learn! I used to love to move and dance and flirt or, sometimes, even work! The synergetic zeal of getting into a flow or tossing ideas back and forth with people you trust… God, time has beaten that out of me. Beaten me senseless.

I don’t think time is my enemy here, though. Time itself has not robbed me of my faith in humanity - in my faith in myself. A fatherless childhood will do that, too. A promotion that should have gone to me did it. A woman that would have been happier had she picked me did it. Ending up alone in a huge house that I own, with no one to fill it with new memories, did it. So now I haunt my own home, stalking about for stimulation. For purpose.

I am utterly useless, and I seem to be the last one to figure it out. Every single day. When will I die? I roll my eyes in the mirror, dismissing those happy morning thoughts, to actually do my bathroom business.

…

The sun shines through the windows of my house. I don’t feel its warmth on my skin; instead, the air conditioning isolates me from the heat of a Texas summer morning. I take my first bite of the stale breakfast I made for myself today (like I do every day): cereal. The sugar gives me a rush. As I’m eating, the young woman I see every day, jogs down the street.

I wonder where she could possibly get the energy and time to run. Maybe if I didn’t have cereal every morning, I might have some energy to go on an early morning run, I think as I crunch on my Frosted Flakes. I know they’re bad for me, but I love them. I think we all have little vices we indulge in to make life a little more exciting.

I see her every day with her dumb little dog. She usually comes by a couple of times; I assume she does laps around my small block.

Today, she stops in front of my house and takes a deep breath. She is huffing and puffing as she pulls her phone from her pocket and snaps a “selfie.” While she does this, her dumb little dog begins to do its business. Disgusting. Then I chuckle because, judging by the angle the girl was standing, she may have captured her dog in a compromising position.

Then, to my indignation, the woman continues her jog, as if her dog had not just dropped a fat turd on my lawn!

The nerve of this girl! To drop the burden of cleaning up her dog’s bowel movements on me, a feeble old man - what right does she think she has to my time? To my lawn! I feel the rage pent up inside of me—I don’t even finish my cereal. I march myself to my garage, open my garage door, grab a lawn chair from the pile of fishing gear in the corner, march myself to the lawn, and set my chair—and my butt—next to the stinky excrement.

The smell is potent, and my anger is all-consuming. The hot morning air was likely to thank for that. But I stayed there. She comes down the street multiple times a day, every weekday (I know this because we often wave to each other), and it is Friday. She will be back. And she will answer for this crime. And it is a crime; in this county, it is LAW that you must pick up after your dog. I should call the police! They can air her out without much escalation. As much as I would enjoy teaching her a lesson, they can teach her a much more expensive lesson. One that will ruin her month(ly budget).

I seethe. Much like the stench of this dog dropping, I am festering in this Texas heat—really, how can anyone run in this?! My vexation jumps out of my body, tapping my toe to the ground, crossing my arms so tightly I fear I may get a heat stroke.

When she turns the corner for the second time, her dog trotting along her side, I begin to shake. Her stupid dog’s happy little face also enrages me. The woman smiles and waves at me—like she usually does—as she runs closer and closer. I feel my own heartbeat in my chest, my face puffy and red, as if I'm the one running.

I stand and wave back at her angrily to get her attention. “You’ve got some nerve!”

Now she seems to understand that I’m talking to her. She slows her jog until she’s jogging in place and takes out one of those high-tech earphones from her right ear and places it in her hand.

“Excuse me?” the woman stops jogging in place. The dog sits, calmly, happily. “Is something wrong?” She’s not even tired from the running, no panting. I don’t think I even see the glisten of sweat! What is she? Some kind of Olympian?

“‘oH Is SoMetHiNg WrOnG?’” I mock her. “Uh, yeah, you let your dog poop on my lawn, and you just left it here to stink up the whole neighborhood!”

“Oh!” She covers her mouth, eyes wide with embarrassment. She is older than I’d thought, maybe only 20 years younger than me. Up close, she has kind eyes and a muscular build. She pulls a bag out of her pocket. “I’m so sorry! Max here pooped before we got to this house, and I had to use my last bag, but I just ran to get some more so I could clean it up when I looped back around!” She bends down to pick up the poop and pet her Max. “I’m sorry!”

“Good!” I grunt, “Don’t you EVER pull an entitled, lazy stunt like that again!”

She continues to make excuses, like she’s some quirky awkward protagonist in a coming of age movie, “It’s funny, when this happens, I take a picture of the house he did it on, go grab a bag, and come back!” She shows me the photos on her phone, which she wasn’t in at all. Just the mailbox and the dog poop. She swipes a couple of times to show similar photos.

I scoff, “So this happens often?”

“I mean, as often as it happens to most dog owners.” She fiddles with the bag.

I roll my eyes at her back-sass. “Well, I should have called the cops. They’d teach you some kind of lesson about personal responsibility. What, do you think everyone just cleans up after you? That you’re the main character of the world? Is that why you think you can just do whatever you want to other people’s property?”

“I don’t think,” she stammers. “I just—” She looked like she may cry.

So I continue. Maybe I can scream a tear or two out.

“You probably don’t even own a house in this neighborhood, do you? You’re probably a renter, aren’t you? Because if you owned a house, you would understand what it was like to keep your shit nice and protect it from those who want to destroy the life you’ve made for yourself!”

“No one else has had a problem with me here. I pick it up every single time! I didn’t mean to disrespect you but what was I supposed to do? Pick it up with my hand?”

“You don’t know ANYTHING about respect! I had to work for 55 years before I could finally retire in this house. I’ve taken care of it every day of my life, because I RESPECT my things. My lawn is not public property! Stay off of it, or I will call the police next time! It’s illegal to not clean up your dog’s SHIT!” I spit at her. As I speak, the embarrassment in her eyes fades and changes to something else. A different type of embarrassment?

The woman was (probably) about to give me another round of excuses, but almost like someone flipped a switch in her brain, her face eases. “Ohhhhh,” she says as she puts her earphone back in her ear. “You just want to argue with someone.” She begins to jog away, almost nonchalantly. Almost.

“I do not!” I start shouting again. “You need to learn some goddamn respect! What, your generation can’t even have a conversation without getting oFfEnDEd? Do you know how much a fine for littering—”

She whips back around, angrily, ripping out both of her fancy earphones this time. For a second, I feared she might hit me. The calm runner I saw every day was gone. She was basically panting, like what she was about to say would take all the energy she had left.

“You came outside from your rEspECtaBle, cold air-conditioned paid-off retirement home to sit in the hot Texas sun with DOG SHIT. And then you yelled at me for a misunderstanding that—” she holds up the doggy bag. “I HAVE CORRECTED and have apologized for, and now… you’re STILL yelling at me?” She scoffs. “Because you know soooo much about respect!”

She shoves her earphones back into her ears and she and her dog skip along their merry way, but not before leaving me with a pitiful, “You’ve got nothing better to do.”

I watch her jog away, the sun cooking my skin. I could just run with her. I used to have energy like that, long ago. Now I glance back at my home, not wanting to go back in.

…

After putting up my lawn chair and closing my garage, I return to the kitchen table. My skin cools down, and it feels as if someone’s poured ice water on my fire. That other embarrassment was pity. I know, because I feel it for myself now. I return to my cereal. It is soggy.