#because being 15 fucking sucks for everyone but being trans on top of it is just an extra layer of nope

[lazylittledragon]

i might actually write this i'm not even joking

[spacelazarwolf]

I really hate how often neo ra/df/ems will go on and on about how trans fem's transitions are waaaaaay more difficult and they're waaaaaay less likely to pass, but if a trans masc dared to make any similar comparisons, they'd be fucking crucified.

There are a lot of feelings I have around sex-based discrimination and the difficulties of a masculinizing transition. On one hand, I don't think comparing struggles like that is useful (i.e. trans women have harder transitions).

On the other hand, I feel like the reality of the situation is actually quite the opposite for many people (everyone acknowledges that testosterone makes your voice drop and you grow hair, but nobody seems to want to acknowledge hysterectomy vs orchi, voice training is still often needed, electrolysis for phallo, the fact that bottom surgery is usually multi-staged [even metoidioplasty is sometimes 2 stages] with a lot of moving parts and far worse scarring, top surgery is almost a necessity for passing whereas not every trans fem wants top surgery + scars are easier to hide, face masculinization is far less common w/ fewer options, puberty begins earlier in perisex people AFAB and puberty blockers don't always allow for full height to be achieved bc they don't typically allow you to start testosterone until you're about 15 even IF you were a "classic" trans-since-3-years-old kinda case, the extreme body horror that is accidental pregnancy and abortion and menstruation when that's dysphoric vs not being able to carry a pregnancy just feels like an insulting comparison sometimes and I've had multiple trans women call me inconsiderate for expressing horror at getting my bodily rights taken away bc "that triggers my dysphoria", testosterone is a scheduled substance and has more difficult administration methods than simply a pill, etc.)

And so I bite my tongue and try to be the better person, because stooping to that low doesn't help anything. But at the same time it's so extremely frustrating to be told that you "have it better" when, considering the facts, it REALLY feels like the opposite. There's this level of bitterness around that that I am DESPERATELY trying to resolve within myself. I have a therapist. I know it's projection. I'm working on my own bullshit. But please tell me I'm not alone in feeling this way? I just wish they'd stop with that rhetoric and realize just how difficult the average trans masc transition truly is

yeah it's really frustrating for ppl to present Trans Women's Experiences and Trans Men's Experiences as diametrically opposed, with one experience being Eternal Pain And Inescapable Suffering and the other being Barely A Blip On The Life Radar. and while i understand it's coming from a place of pain, i've also experienced a lot of trans women shutting me down when i try to talk about how abortion rights affect me. back when i was first dipping my toe into trans spaces, i was friends with a trans woman who told me it was transmisogynistic of me to want to transition because "trans women would kill to have been born in your body." and while it absolutely comes from a different place than when cis men try to assert control over me and there's not the same power dynamic, it's still a complete stranger feeling entitled to tell me what to do with my body because of the sex i was assigned at birth. it's frustrating to have people i'm supposed to be in community with play into the same sexist bullshit that other people, regardless of gender, have been holding over my head my whole life, feeling like they own my body bc women and ppl who are forcibly assigned the role of women in society are seen as public property. our bodies aren't our own. everyone feels entitled to comment on them and touch them and make decisions about them. and it sucks when it comes from other people who should understand how that feels.

and like. obviously this idea that trans men's transition is so much easier than trans women's is unhelpful bc 1. there is no one particular way for trans men to transition, 2. not everyone who transitions in the way typically associated with trans men is a trans man, 3. it doesn't take into account how disability, race, ethnicity, etc. play into people's experiences before, during, and after transition, and 4. it's just not a fucking competition????? the fact that a disabled black trans man is going to be more systemically oppressed in society than a wealthy white trans woman doesn't mean trans men as a category are Objectively More Oppressed than trans women. bc gender is like. the worst possible way to try to gauge a group's place within the system. bc at this point, gender is not the most powerful system, race is. and i feel like a fuck ton of people really do not recognize that.

another thing that has bugged me for as long as i've been in trans spaces is this bizarre attitude that trans women are doomed to this miserable life of clockability and will never be able to pass as cis women thus they must accept that their life will be nothing but pain and suffering. and that's just very much not true! i know plenty of trans women who "pass" or who are happy with their bodies, who have jobs they love and friends and family who love them, who have a community that supports and celebrates them. and it has just always rubbed me the wrong way that people think they're helping trans women by presenting their existence as Inevitably Miserable when all it does is terrify closeted trans girls who think they're better off never coming out or transitioning, or better off dying. like. we have to understand that these narratives we create, the idea of the perpetually suffering trans woman and the lonely isolated trans man, are absolutely driving people to suicidal ideation. and if we give a shit about trans people, we should be changing these narratives.

[spookyradluka]

I READ MANHUNT SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO chapter 16 pt 1

Chapter 16 summary: Teach is doing a speech to about 200 boys between the ages of 15-20. We learn some of these male children were forced into transition to try and save them from the Tday disease. Teach talks about patriarchy. The boys get mad and start leaving, calling her a Terf. They show the remaining boys a trapped feral man. Teach, Ramona, Molly, and some other unnamed terfs go out to eat after the meeting. Teach describes why men hate old women because they can’t be of service to them and she is 100% correct. Robbie goes to a new-to-us part of the Screw where she meets another trans woman named Zia. Zia tells Robbie that Beth isn’t working out as a day and might be sold to a chain gang. Ramona saw Feather again and he pissed her off by asking if she ever been with a man. Feather then calls her a nazi and she punches the wall next to his head. 

Top chapter quotes: 

Chapter 16 commentary: Teach is being implied as an extremist but literally everything she said about male oppression over women was correct. The author is just misogynistic and brain rotted from porn. Ramona speculates on how Teach probably sucked her way to her position, another example of the author using women’s trauma. A woman who “fucks her way to the top” is actually a victim of male exploitation. Teach is very passionate about protecting older women, which is great, it’s nice to read some actual rationality in this book. Ramona falls down the stairs in front of everyone. 

[thatfilthyanimal]

I really don't want to vent here but I also don't want to overload my friends so I'm just going to do it and suck it up, fuck it.

I feel pretty fucking horrible in a very deep way and I don't know how to talk to people about it. This started up around the beginning of April and I thought it was in relation to April just being generally rough on me because of how my dad died, but it hasn't let up yet. If anything, I feel worse. Way worse.

I'm guessing I need to raise the dosage of my medication and I'm actually really heartbroken about that in a way I don't know how to describe. How am I supposed to feel if shit is so horrible I have to take the highest possible dosage I can safely take of a medication? How am I supposed to feel calling up a psychiatrist I just told two months ago my dosage was stable and I was feeling great, to tell her "ha ha ha I high key hate life and want to die again, please, raise my shit so I can hold up the illusion that I'm not a fucking lost cause a little longer?"

So... some of the only stuff I'm really comfortable touching on here is the whole transphobia at the doctors, thing. After spending most of 2020 living at doctors because of unknown stomach pain and just trying not to fucking die from something during a global pandemic I'm at a loss now. Nobody ever figured out my pain issues, I've just changed around what I eat and it seems better... Sort of? But mostly my existence in general hurts because coming out as trans to my newer doctors has been... uncomfortable. Now it feels like every time they "ma'am" me or pointedly call me "a woman" or "female" in a phone call (where I'm specifically asking for help regarding getting on testosterone) I want to claw myself out of my own skin and bury myself deep in the ground where nobody ever has to see me again.

Literally all the shit that I was terrified of that kept me from admitting to myself I was trans this entire time is fucking real and-- I'm weak, I'm fucking weak and scared and tired because I've never needed so much help with something so desperately in my life and the ONE PLACE I should be able to get help from I'm... terrified of, now. I just want to cancel all my future appointments and just never leave my house again because what is the fucking point. I'll never look right and I'll never be taken seriously and my weight is always an issue some-fucking-how regardless of the actual problem, so just. Fuck. Why leave. Why go anywhere. Why try to take care of myself anymore just. why.

I knew this would happen if I came out, I knew admitting I was trans would be a challenge of my ability to continue to love myself and... you know, I do, I do love myself, and coming out has proven that more than anything, but the cost of that almost feels like it outweighs the euphoria of being myself.

But now I'm in that weird middle-state of my body and voice not "matching" my gender and nobody taking said gender seriously and. What do I do. I'm so terrified of this happening at another doctor's office that it hurts to try to reach out. Literally the nearest doctors that might help me are an hour and a half out in Chicagoland, if not Chicago proper. And things feel so uncomfortable here where I am that I may literally need to drive that hour and a half just for basic health care, not just the hormone therapy and. Like. It hurts.

If I had figured this out sooner while I was in Champaign, there was an endocrinologist there and the city was super LGBTQIA+ friendly and I'm kicking myself for not doing something before I moved three hours away. Getting help could have been maybe a 15 minute drive in my own city instead of an hour and a half into the heart of Chicago, which, btw, I fucking hate driving in because everyone out there drives like a crazy asshole.

Idk. I'm tired and I'm scared and worn down and I don't know how to ask for help. I tried with one of my local friends but, well, their life is busy and its always "oh I forgot to ask my friend about that place here that would help you, sorry, there's been so much going on" but. It's been months now. They were the one that suggested I reach out to said people about whatever place it is, and I don't want to be rude but also... are you going to help me? Because it sounds like my sorry ass is stuck going to Chicago in a global pandemic to get T and I'm really upset about it.

Like, if my friend can't even see it as important than I guess I just have to do everything alone. Just like I've had to with BPD.

This is getting way longer than I meant, and it's not even the worst thing just. I'm feeling vulnerable and isolated as hell and I need more support than I have and I'm too scared to ask for it. And most of the people I know can't do jack or shit about it because there's really nothing they can do, so like. Why ask them. Why tell them. Idk.

I'm talking to a therapist too, have been for months, and she's nice but she's not great for trans issues. She's supportive but it's not her specialty. Because I have borderline I have to kind of choose my battles when it comes to therapists... There are therapists that handle BPD and therapists that handle trans issues but my insurance doesn't cover one that specializes in both at once in this town. And BPD is super misunderstood-- the wrong therapist may admit me for just passive suicidal ideation not realizing it's a common and (generally non-life-threatening) part of BPD that doesn't hold real threat. Getting a therapist for trans issues that doesn't know how to read the weight of my depression/anxiety/suicidal thoughts and call them correctly is dangerous and... that's its own problem. I have to choose my battles here and it's really hurting me.

Like I really don't know what to do. Do I get a second therapist and risk that they may not understand BPD and may be overwhelmed and scared to work with me? God. I've never had two therapists at once and the thought is... idk. It hurts.

I just want to feel okay, and I don't. And I'm more tired and scared and feeling misunderstood than I've ever been and the idea of reaching for help is terrifying me. This feels like stuff I should only be unloading on a therapist, not my friends... my friends deserve better than that. But also I'm well aware of how my friendships will go if I start to use them to vent and seek help like this.

Idk. I wish I knew how to talk about everything that's wrong right now but I... can't. It sounds horrible and mean when I say it all and I don't want people to look at me like I'm fragile and someone to pity, but that seems to be my life and how people are going to view me. I basically exist as an example of what not to be. So. Idk. I'm tired and I want help but I'm scared to ask for it.

Past friends have taught me that if I seek help and cry to them that I'm a Problem that they need to distance from and. It hurts. There may be friends that do genuinely want me to come to them and I don't know how to try; the idea scares the shit out of me. Everyone I've ever opened up to (besides my partner) has eventually grown sick of me and I can't handle losing what support I have right now.

I need to hush cause this sounds blamey and I don't mean it that way. My life is just... highkey fucked and I'm trying to hold on and struggling about it.

I don't regret finally admitting to both myself and everyone else that I'm trans, but fuck, the weight of this level of medical rejection on top of the BPD feelings interfering with my ability to reach to friends for help just... it's so much. And I feel guilty complaining about it at all.

And every time I post something public about it I'm just giving people insight on why they should avoid me, or worse, exactly what they can do/say if they want to hurt me.

[autisticandroids]

If you were to rank the spn seasons from favorite to least favorite how would you rank them?

disclaimer: i have not done a full watch since 2013 (1-8) or whenever the various seasons aired (8-15).

i’m not going to rank all of them, but i’ll give some preferences.

my favorite seasons are four and twelve. like, i could justify this with like, elements that they had? 

four had all this great aesthetic, and it introduced the angel plotlines, and there was all this wonderful loyalty and betrayal and secret keeping, and it wanted to be a john le carre novel so BAD, and finally there was some serious ambiguity in the form of heaven (rather than just monster bad), and also institutions, in the form of heaven and hell, and you all know how i like a story that contains institutions, and dean’s hell trauma was like incredibly compelling, and sam was doing hot girl shit, and every single angel character ruled, etc. etc. etc. four is like the only season of supernatural that is entirely justified in taking itself seriously.

and twelve was like the complete opposite. it was a sitcom. incredibly lighthearted and fun, a show that was kind of a joke about supernatural, incredibly refreshing after the constant doom and gloom of the carver era. and like, the mary plotline was legitimately the smartest and most interesting piece of writing in all of supernatural and also i love mary, the cas-crowley stuff was wonderful and hilarious, rowena got to be like, a protagonist, the bmol were the most ridiculous antagonist spn ever had and i love them for it, the destiel was off the charts, etc. etc. etc. 

so like, both of them had INCREDIBLY good elements. but the thing is that that’s not the reason i like them, really. i love themes, and i love character, and i love worldbuilding, and all that shit, but the greatest ruler i judge an episode, or season, of supernatural against is whether i was bored. and four and twelve are both just like. oops! all bangers!

my least favorite seasons will surprise no one, i’m not a huge fan of one, two, seven, nine, or ten. 

ten i did not love because of the jeremy carver trademarked doom and gloom, like, that man is a hero and a heller but his seasons are both boring and depressing. he’s a bad showrunner, and many of the episodes produced under him were poorly written though i don’t know how much to blame him for this.

i have the problems with nine that everyone has with nine, along with my general dislike of carver’s seasons. i feel like i don’t have to explain this.

one and two’s intensely unironic trying-to-be-scary monster of the week shtick did NOT do it for me. i liked the character-focused episodes, and i liked their literally one funny episode each, but overall i found them boring and intensely incest-subtexty. they’re far too serious, without the good writing to back it up.

seven’s problem is essentially that sera gamble is a terrible showrunner. like, she is fucking GIFTED as an individual episode writer, she is a BARD, homophobia or no homophobia, but as a showrunner she fails, for two specific reasons: 

first, she’s a bronly, and i just.... don’t think having a show with no side characters works lmao. like, honestly, whenever i rewrite the show in my head, one of my big axes to grind is i wish that supernatural had been an ensemble cast show. i hate that it’s constantly trying to be just about the brothers. hell, i hate that it’s constantly trying to be just about team free will! cas is not exempt, when the show is being run by people who want to include him! i’m a star trek fan, i demand a minimum of seven main characters in my dumb scifi.

second, she’s no good at plot. this is fine as an individual episode writer; you don’t have to put serious plot in a single episode if you don’t want to, you can just build character. those are the best kinds of episodes, imo, and sera gamble SHINES at them. but for a season you need plot and sera cannot deliver.

other than my top two and my bottom five, i’ll just go through some surprises:

season six is the only season that gets a pass on my “ranking supernatural should be done by entertainment value” rule. like, season six SUCKS ASS for all the same reasons as season seven, but even WORSE because at least seven managed the dick roman plotline halfway through, which improved things considerably. season six didn’t manage to grow a solid, fun plot until the LAST THREE EPISODES. but it gets a pass because oh! what episodes they were! i love godstiel arc. mommy sera PLEASE hatecrime me, you hatecrime me so GOOD! so season six is way higher on my ranking than it aught to be.

season three i LOVE, if it weren’t for the entire dabb era coming in with a steel chair and being like, the best spn has ever been, then season three would be my third favorite after four and twelve. like, spn FINALLY starting to take itself a little less seriously! lots of silly bullshit! also oops, all bangers! is easier when you only have sixteen episodes lol.

eleven would be on my shitlist for being too carvery, except that about halfway through it takes an upswing which is, i am PREEEETTY sure, a result of andrew dabb taking over, so they end up having a much more lighthearted second half of the season and solve the main plot via family therapy. so i guess eleven also gets a pass kind of like six except i do not like eleven as much as six so it gets upgraded from bad to mediocre instead of bad to great.

and then my last hot-n-spicy take is that i do not love eight as much as most people. like, was season eight of supernatural a win for the gays? yes. was purgatory iconic? yes. do i love benny lafitte with all of my heart? yes. do i miss kevin tran every day? yes. do i sometimes repeat the words “and they were all dean.” to my friends over and over on video calls? yes. but the thing is that banger elements do not a banger season make. eight was disorganized, the writing was often poor and boring, and that trademarked jeremy carver doom and gloom was already starting to set in. i do not love it. i do not hate it, but i do not love it.

[sohin-ace]

May I request Brunos gang headcannons with a new transgender male member? It doesnt have to be romantic and id rather it not be. Please message me if you have questions. Some details id like to see: He is around the same age as Trish and no longer can live with his parents. He doesnt have much money so he binds his chest with bandages and fabric he can find. He hasn't transitioned at all and his gender isnt obvious. his hair is cut poorly due to cutting it himself. i hope this is okay!

This was hard to do. Trans identity is tricky to write as a non-Trans writer. Hopefully I did you justice!

Non rom.

Bucci gang w/ a Transgender male member HC

Bucciarati

The most understanding of the group.

He's horrified that such a young person has to live by themselves, especially if your gender identity is the reason you have no caretakers.

He makes sure to introduce you properly to the team and makes them understand your situation, so that you feel comfortable around everyone.

You're part of the family now, it doesn't matter what you look like or what you identify as.

Will ask you if it's okay for you to go undercover as female for specific missions, or it's that's too uncomfortable.

If you'd rather not it's okay, Fugo will do.

He comes back one day with a package on one arm.

Turns out it's a custom made binder, all perfectly fitted to your specific body type and size!

So that's why he was so insistent on taking your measurements, without ever explaining why... That sly man.

Still, you couldn't be more grateful. Those things were so expensive.

"As long as you feel comfortable and stay in good health, I'm satisfied, Y/N."

Abbachio

He's the last one to care.

If anything, the thing he hates about you is that offensive hairstyle, are you kidding him?

Boy, girl, mischief, he doesn't care what your gender is or what's in your pants, he just doesn't want you to disrespect his eyes with such a horrendous haircut.

Like, seriously, who hurt you?

Takes you apart and forces your ass on a chair to actually give you a proper cut/shave.

Bucciarati is here too, to give advice on what looks good and works for your face shape and hair texture.

Abbachio has a fairly feminine appearance himself and hardly ever follows gender norms, so he's not fazed by your own neutral or 'confusing' physique.

Just tell him your pronouns already, or else he'll call you 'Brat' out of doubt, that's pretty gender neutral.

Would appreciate it if you trusted him enough to confess about your dysphoria, as he is victim of it as well.

Yes, even a Cis-man can feel dysphoric from time to time. Please pull each other up.

Giorno

As expected of him, he is very respectful.

The very first time he mistook you for a girl, but immediately apologized for his mistake and never got it wrong again.

In fact, he was so kind and polite about it, it's impossible to stay mad at him.

Afterwards he asks a lot of questions to be sure to know the boundaries you set, what is okay and not okay to talk about or do.

Will help you style your hair in the prettiest way and adds a lot of flowers on top of it.

He is a very feminine boy himself and will make you feel handsome and confident about your more feminine traits, just the way you deserve to be treated.

If he can rock the long hair, pink clothes, cute flowers and ladybugs ornaments and still look handsome as hell, then you can perfectly rock whatever physical traits you have. He believes in you.

Uses Gold Experience on you when you're on your periods so that it last shorter.

Helps you bind your chest until you can get a proper binder, and makes sure to be very gentle with you.

Has stolen Testosterone for you, and will do it again.

Mista

The most oblivious to your gender at first.

He can't tell if you're a boy or a girl and asks you a bunch of dumb questions without really thinking of the behinds of it.

If you get offended he'll just tell you he's trying to understand and is so confused.

It takes time and a lot of explaining, but he eventually gets it and, even though he still has a lot of questions, he decides to shut up.

Hey, you were pretty nice and funny and your Stand powers were dope, so at the end of the day, who cares?

He may be a bit of a dummy, but Mista is kind. He teaches you to shave in case you grow facial hair in the future.

He'll tell you all those grown up advices about how 'You start off with small peachfuzzes and before you know it, you got a full grown ass beard'.

Goes full Big Brother™ on you.

In fact, he barely calls your name at all, only calls you 'Bro', 'Fratellino', 'Mini me', 'Bambino', 'Big guy', or anything of the caliber.

Makes you workout with him to get those big ass guns and broad shoulders (or just... Your desired body type).

Narancia

Oh god, you don't have to fret about a thing.

He's just like you and gets misgendered All. The. Goddamn. Time.

His appearance is effortlessly androgynous and he sounds fairly prepubescent as well, so you're in the same boat here.

He doesn't really care and would love it for you to not care as well. He's used to it anyways.

It's not like your gender identity is gonna stop him from dragging you into his shenanigans and make you bust the sickest moves he knows.

You two are out together and get cat called by some obnoxious dudes on the streets.

You have to stop him from blasting them with Aerosmith because, as much as he's used to being called a 'She',

He WON'T stand other people misgendering you.

"HEY! SHUT THE FUCK UP! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU! Y/N, tell him to go suck your dick! Oh- you don't have one yet? Huh... Well uh... SUCK MY DICK, ASSHOLE! Sorry about that Y/N."

Tells you you're lucky you don't have balls because those hurt really bad sometimes.

Fugo

Is too shy to ask too specific questions about your body or sexuality, but would love to know everything about it.

Especially the more psychologic aspect of your gender identity. How it affects your mental state, how you feel, what made you realize you were trans etc.

He may seem insensitive about it, but he's really not. He's just interested and takes it with a very scholar approach.

He pretends he really doesn't care at all, but he does a lot of research and harasses Bucciarati with questions about you.

You ask him to help you bind your chest one day and he becomes a blushy mess.

He'll help you anyway though, trying to be as neutral as possible out of respect for you.

He doesn't want to get flustered and let you imagine that he sees you as 'a girl', so he plays it cool.

It's... It's just a chest right? No big deal...

He slipped up one day and almost called the wrong pronouns and when he does, he just screams. Loud.

"Let's go ask Y/N then, where is sh-hhhhhhiiiaaaaaaAAAAAAAAARRGGHHHHH!!!!!"

He doesn't know how to come back from these mistakes and he's so embarassed.

Trish

You two have so much in common, surprisingly.

You're both young teens and your parents have left you down. You could only lift each other up.

She immediately knows you're a boy and gets so confused when people misgender you.

I mean... You look a bit feminine, yes, but there were plenty of men like this. And more so than you'd ever imagine. Especially at only 15.

Also, you introduced yourself as 'Y/N', that's pretty much masculine, or at the very least, gender neutral.

"Pfft, don't listen to them, Y/N. They're so darn stupid."

Helps you voice train, e-v-e-r-y-d-a-y.

She knows a lot of vocal warm ups and exercises to not strain your vocal chords and helps you get that perfect deep voice you try to achieve.

It's just like singing in a way, right? She helps you find your vocal range to expand it and lower it to your prefered pitch.

She's so proud of you when you manage to finally use a much deeper and manly voice!

She has very short hair herself, and she'll defintely help you style yours properly and take you to her personal hairdresser (a very kind femboy who's super funny and who's gonna love you to bits)

[curtashiism]

Long rant/vent ahead

It’s hard, because I know I genuinely love biology. I love learning about anatomy and physiology, and I have an affinity for bio as a whole. But I don’t know that it’s really what I want to do, and I feel like I was never given the chance to fully explore what I actually wanted to do because of my mom’s manipulative behavior to me growing up.

When I was younger I wanted to do something with music, but my mom told me I wouldn’t be good enough. I didn’t have the talent my sister did at the cello, which was why they sunk so much money into her cello rental and lessons but wouldn’t get me any lessons.

My mom told me future was in academics and I never really questioned it. Her grandma had a premonition (my mom’s words, not mine) that I would go into the sciences. So my mom never let me consider anything else. She tried her best to shut any other ideas I had down. She never came to a single one of my track meets when I ran in 8th grade. I mean, I finished dead last in every race except the one time I finished second to last, but that’s not the point. I shouldn’t have had to be good to earn her involvement. But that’s how it was with her. She only cared when it was something I was good at- academics. She’d come to the awards ceremonies when I made honor roll, but never cared about my other interests.

So I settled on the medical field at some point- I thought a doctor or vet for a while but I’m not good enough at math, physics, or chem, so now I’m thinking public health.

Before I started college, I wanted to take a break from school, get a job, and figure things out. But my mom didn’t want that. She thought if I did that, I’d never go back to school, and we couldn’t have that now could we? So she did what she does- she manipulated the situation to get what she wanted to my detriment. It didn’t matter that I didn’t want loans. She said “we all go into debt, suck it up” and told me if I didn’t start the next term she would kick me out.

So I did. Then once I had the loans finalized, she told me she was never going to kick me out, she just wanted me to “get my life together.” Because clearly it’s not my right to make those decisions, it’s hers, and if I wasn’t ready to start college at 19 my life must have been falling apart.

So now here I am, entering my senior year of college at 26 years old, panicking because I need to start preparing for a Master’s program but I don’t FEEL ready at all and I’m not sure this is actually what I want to do. I like the arts. I want to learn more about them. I want to learn to play the violin, I want to see if I can act (I’m practicing voice acting and am loving it and my friends say I actually am not bad at it and I have a cute voice perfect for child characters), or maybe even try to write a play (I love theater and I love writing.) Hell, I think I’d be happier joining the Peace Corps or going to the Kalahari Desert to volunteer with the meerkat study project for a year. I’m not ready for grad school- but I feel like I HAVE TO do it.

But that’s the thing. I try so hard to get my mom to approve of my decisions for just ONCE in her life. But even when I do exactly what she wants it doesn’t happen. She wanted me to do the science stuff to begin with- but when I tell her there’s a couple of MPH programs down in NYC, I would just need to finally get my driver’s license and a car, she starts making me defend my decision. She asks all these questions that make it sound like I’m some kind of idiot for wanting to get a Master’s degree. And maybe I fucking am, but not for the reason she thinks.

I told her I was going to learn the violin and her reaction was to get mad that I asked if I could practice it in the apartment during my visit home. When it looked like I was going to get to study abroad in London, before COVID, she made it all about her and her letting go issues.

When I graduated with my Associate’s degree- I’m the only one in the immediate family to do so, by the way- my mom cried before my graduation. Because she was devastated it wasn’t my sister.

And I honestly don’t know why I still even try. I know she has four kids but only cares about one. She will NEVER care about me or actually be proud of me. Not if I get a Master’s degree, not if I become a doctor, not if I became a tapdancing polyglot brain surgeon who cures cancer on the moon. She isn’t capable of it. On top of that, she has no grasp on who I actually am as a person.

She has a twisted and distorted view of me where I am a manifestation of all the things she fears are true of herself. All the things she doesn’t want to be, she projects onto me. She calls me hateful and judgmental and mean because I tell her not to call me when she’s been drinking. One single, solitary boundary I request and that’s too much for her. She was jealous of me as an INFANT because my dad doted on me. You have no idea how many times she’s been in the middle of a bender and accused me and my dad of literal incest because we’re close. “You’re his second wife” “there’s some Mormon shit going on between you two!” She doesn’t know the first thing about me. She told all my relatives that I only was in the orchestra as a teen because I wanted to be like my sister, not because I actually liked to play.

I do not admire a single thing about my fucking sister. This is the same sister who conspired with my first boyfriend and got him to sexually abuse me. The same sister who got high on meth and fucking raped our little brother. The same sister who told me about this while she was blackout drunk, then licked my neck. The same sister whose behavior I told to my mom and got a response of “well to be fair I’ve fantasized about your neck too!” Oh but see, if my mom was to be believed, my fucking sister never did anything to hurt my little brother, no sir. He made it up for attention, and I “planted lies in his head because I wanted to prove an agenda about men being able to be raped by women.” Because she thinks I’m so evil I would use my little brother as a pawn for a social experiment just to hurt my sister.

I don’t admire anything about my sister. I barely even fucking feel sorry that she fell into sex trafficking and had the same thing done to her that she did to my little brother. I should be upset about it, but I just feel apathetic, especially since she got to see her abuser put behind bars while my little brother is still dragged out to visit her every time my folks (who he still lives with as an adult) decide to see her. She’s a shitty person. The world will be a better place when she fucking dies. She convinces everyone she meets that she’s a wonderful person because she tells them what a long journey she’s been on and how she’s working so hard to heal through her faith (conveniently leaving out the part where she victimized others as much as she was a victim herself). Bitch, you don’t get a cookie because you fucking went five years without sexually abusing your younger siblings. Jesus isn’t fucking proud of you. I’m certainly not.

But of course, since she’s the one my mom favors, she can do no wrong. My mom is no better than her in my eyes.

So that brings it back to, why the FUCK do I want her approval?

Why the fuck do I care?

She certainly doesn’t care about me. If all the above shit isn’t proof, the fact that she got drunk when I was 15 and said she wished she could kill me is. The fact that she gave me PTSD from all the shit she put me through is proof. The fact that she made me coming out as a lesbian all about her is proof. The fact that she would go on a hateful rant about trans people- even though she doesn’t know I am, she knows I care deeply about the issues which should be enough but some isn’t- is proof. The fact that she honestly can NOT remember what my birthday is and has to be reminded by my dad is proof. The fact that she once called me a bitch on my birthday, which she forgot was my birthday until my little brother reminded her, is proof. The fact that she tried to tear my dad and I apart because she was too insecure to handle my dad “choosing his kids over her” is proof. The fact that she put me in the position of having to let her scream and throw things at me to protect my younger brother, because the alternative was letting her hurt him instead, is proof. The fact that I self-harmed for nearly a decade because of her and only got clean when I moved 3,000 miles away (what a coincidence!) is proof.

She’s fucking sick and is never going to be anything approaching a good mother to me because she doesn’t see me as me, she just makes me the lightning rod for her anger whenever she gets pissed off. When she’s pissed off, I’m an emotional punching bag, and when she’s hurting I’m a substitute therapist who will do all the emotional heavy lifting for her because she fucking knows how to use my compassion and guilt complex against me.

She has reasons, in her head, for why I’m so awful and deserving of her anger, which it took me years to learn weren’t actually excuses because I was a CHILD and she had no right to hold shit against me. And I know the truth is that she’s never proud of me because she doesn’t actually want my success- especially not when my sister doesn’t have it. She treats me the best, the nicest, when I fail, because that’s what she wants for me, even if she pretends otherwise. She’s sick and she’s so determined to play victim for her whole fucking life that she will never NOT be sick this way.

And I’m even sicker than she is because I still try after all these years. The real definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. I just keep getting my hopes up that one day, I will say the magic words that will make her actually be supportive. Like if I get a magical piece of paper to show her she’ll think I’m actually worth something, but she never will and I’m an idiot for hoping. If she hasn’t got it by now, she never will. My dad loves me for me, my brothers loves me for me, my grandma loves me for me, my aunts and uncles and cousins love me for me, my friends love me for me- it’s just my mom who can’t figure out that I’m worth more than what I can do for her.

Fuck her. I’m either going to go to grad school or I’m not, but whatever I do will be awesome. I might act or play the violin or write plays or I might study ethnomusicology, or who knows, maybe I will go through with this public health stuff. Either way I’ll be surrounded with people who actually see me for me and are capable of feeling joy at my accomplishments. Maybe I’ll stupidly keep trying to include her, but I’ll have others around me when she inevitably disappoints me yet again. And she can’t say the same because she drives everyone who might care about her away.

[werevulvi]

These pics are just to show my dented ribs, cause like... suffer with me? Also cause I feel strangely alright with what my chest looks like in these pics. But anyhow. On left pic I'm pointing at the centre where it goes in and then pops out again on both sides of the sternum/breastbone. And yes, that's my bone bending like that, not just fat or muscles. Likely from having pushed my breasts towards the centre in binders and sports bras. On the right pic I'm pointing at the big dent on the lower left side of my ribcage, which is right where the sports bra elastic goes. My lowest ribs then curve out much farther than they do on the other side. Putting pressure on either of those dented areas hurts a bit.

(The bump above my nipple on the right pic is literally just my pec muscle, so no need to worry about that one.) And yes I'm sucking in my stomach here only so that you can see my ribs better, I don’t normally do for photos. I've sure gotten hairy again since I stopped shaving my body, and I like the soft fluff! It’s dark brown, almost black, irl. Which is quite a contrast to my ivory skin. And yes my happy trail does connect with my chest hair, which almost connects with my beard but not quite. Those little tufts just above the scars on my chest are my actual nipple hairs, or used to be before the nips were relocated during top surgery. They're weirdly misplaced little hairs now, but that's why they're there. And yeah, 5 years post-op but the scars never became white. But let's get onto the topic. I've come across a new doubt about my wish to have breast reconstruction, which I'm already looking into and not brushing under any carpets. I do want to make as sure as I possibly can that I make the right decision about my chest this time, so I'm tackling every doubt I get about it. And that new doubts keep popping up from time to time, worries me too. Even though I sorted through all the previous ones. So what's it this time? Since I've started going flat in public a couple weeks ago or something (I think the last time I went out with boobs on was June 6th or around that date) I've noticed I seem to be less likely to be assumed to be a trans woman, and instead seen as just a gnc man. And strangely that actually feels better, mentally. It's still very far from ideal, but I feel it's the slightly better of the two evils.

What would be ideal? In a perfect (and highly unrealistic) world: I'd love it if people would just know I'm a female who's taken testosterone and/or see I'm a masculinised woman even if they can't figure out, or know, how. And without me having to change my body at all. But that is not how reality works and I know that people won't perceive me that way just because I want for them to.

So, without changing my body again I'm basically stuck having to choose between being perceived as either a "cis" man or a trans woman, depending on my presentation and style. (Cause apparently we are assuming "gender identity" and not just bio sex, these days.) Of course I don't have 100% control over which one of those I'll be read as, but I've come to notice that people do seem to be much more likely to "trans me" when I'm wearing my breast forms cause that is adding a female (not just feminine) trait to my otherwise male appearance... and they seem to be much more likely to think I'm simply a man (albeit gnc) when I go flat but still keep a feminine style. However, some still read me as a gnc man with boobs and some still read me as a trans woman without them.

Exactly why I seem to prefer being read as a whole ass man rather than as a trans woman, is complicated and not entirely nice, but basically this: Both trans women and "cis" men are bio male, and it's the assumption that I'm bio male that rubs me backwards, at the core of it.

However, being assumed to be a trans woman adds another layer to it. It makes me feel like people shove the gender ideology down my throat that is hard to wiggle myself out of, and it makes me feel like I'm perceived as a "fake" woman and a "fake" lesbian. A fraud, to be brutally honest. Whereas when I'm assumed to be simply a gnc man, the gender ideology is not being shoved down my throat, people don't comment on my assumed genitals, etc. But above all I'm more likely to be treated with respect, which feels hugely relieving.

But mostly what truly whacks my mind about being assumed to be MtF is that it makes me feel like I'm an imposter of an imposter. Double wrong. While when seen as a man, I merely feel like I'm simply an imposter. Plain wrong. And that, is exactly why I feel like "gnc man" is a better wrongful assumption than "trans woman" is. Cause two wrongs really don't make a right.

But regardlessly, I am not and will never be an actual man. I am an imposter, a male impersonator of modern times. But at the same time I believe I'm more authentic like this than I would be if I tried to force myself into acquiring a stereotypical "womanly" appearance. That would be a charade just as much, if not more. That was a long ramble about how I'm perceived again, but it's highly relevant to my doubt about getting breast reconstruction, just hear me out. Cause that, what I'm read as based on what's going on on my chest, was was made the doubt creep out from its shadows, just a few days ago. It has gotten me suddenly worrying I might not like it how I'd be perceived if I have permanent boobs on my chest that I wouldn't be able to hide. Cause no more binding, ever. I've fucked my ribs over enough for a lifetime. And of course, how fucking moot and dumb it would be to bind after breast reconstruction! The thing, however, is that if I actually prefer to be seen as a gnc man over being seen as a trans woman, and boobs being the tipping point between those two perceptions... that creates a thorn in my side, a doubt, a conflict even, about if breast reconstruction really is the right choice for me then.

Ever since I left my boobs at home those weeks ago, people have left me alone about my gender/sex. Out of all the 5 or 6 strangers that have come up and talked to me since then, zero have confronted me about my gender, sex or even my style. It is a relief to just be left alone about my body like that.

I'm also feeling slightly (possibly even increasingly) okay with my chest as it is. I do still regret my top surgery and I still miss having boobs, and it's definitely possible that I'm just disassociating from my chest being flat now, but... Yesterday I was even walking around in my neighbourhood wearing literally just a skirt, fem slippers, my lesbian necklace, red lipstick, and an open, flimsy tunic/cardigan. The wind grabbing it quite a lot means most of my chest showed, including nipples, and my neighbours could see it as I walked back and forth to the laundry house to clean my dirty clothes.

Is it weird? Well, I highly doubt I'd be reported for indecent exposure cause I'm at least 99% sure everyone in my neighbourhood thinks I'm male. Cause they certainly looked shocked at me when I first started going fem in my early detransition a year ago. I've only lived in this area since mid-transition, so no one here knows my history with that. Basically I can't imagine my neighbours think I'm somehow bio female, without slipping into the territory of wishful thinking. But it has gotten me thinking: when I don't shave anywhere, and don't wear boobs, knowing I can only pass as male that way... am I not technically "presenting male" then, despite being female and also so feminine in my style? I mean, up until the point I introduce myself as "Laura" that is. Also, last night I took a shower, and for the first time in... I dunno how many years, if ever... I actually enjoyed soaping and touching my chest in gentle, massaging and caressing ways. For but a glimpse of a moment, I could connect to it for probably the first time since top surgery, or ever, in a non-sexual way. It is indeed a breakthrough. It is also a hint of its possible true potential. That I could maybe at some point come to peace with it. Why do I feel so bad for regretting my transition? Cause even though I achieved a 100% passability, here I am, still dysphoric and miserable, missing the womanhood I traded away. Oh, what a fool I was. This irrevokable fate that seems like an impossible dream for the dysphoric, and I'm just pissing on it. I'm sorry, but I cannot appreciate having been transformed into a highly believable illusion of something I can never actually become and no longer want to be. I never thought it could hurt. I never knew it could hurt like this. Was I sold a lie? But back to my chest. I know getting new tits won't make me any more or less female, and it wouldn't make me pass as female either. What I'd want them for is personal comfort in the private, in both non-sexual and in sexual contexts, and vaguely also cause it would help me relate better and more positively to other women. I'm jealous of every pair of boobs I ever see, clothed or uncovered, and that hurts. But what makes me now hesitate, perhaps for real, is this new, gnawing inkling of a feeling that what if I'd miss having a flat chest? Sometimes I like the look of it, in the sense that it kinda goes with my otherwise male appearance and who doesn't/wouldn't like the feeling of a soothing breeze on their bare chest during a hot summer day? Cause it sure does feel good. Oh god, I wish I could just have the cake and eat it at the same time!

It's been 5 years since I had my top surgery, but did I ever truly try to make amends with it, before my detransition? No, I didn't. What I did was trying to force myself to like the result of it, and that's not a successful approach. Just like I didn't exactly manage to like being a woman when I during my teens tried to force myself to become fine with my female body after I had figured out I was likely a trans guy at age 15, and up until the point I said "fuck it" and began my social (and eventually medical) transition at age 19. During those 4 years my dysphoria only worsened, and I think my rabid attempt to force myself to like being female was part of why it only got worse. Forcing self-love is not the way to achieve it. It won't work. Just like you can't beat depression out of yourself, or any other issue, you can't beat dysphoria out of yourself either. That kind of force is actually more likely to make it worse instead, I believe. Cause it'll just strengthen your belief that it won't work. However, to gently and with compassion for yourself and your struggle try out different things, over a longer time and with lots of patience, to slowly accept and come to terms with it can lead to the dysphoria disappearing. To not punish yourself for still being dysphoric or for not "succeeding", but rather reward yourself for even just trying and for every little thing that may improve on the way. At least that's how I managed to accept and embrace being female in my late 20's despite having failed so miserably at it during my teens, because this time I didn't force it. I killed that dysphoria with kindness, quite literally.

Likewise, I think there is a chance I could come to accept and embrace my flat chest if I just stopped forcing myself to, and tried it with gentle self-care and curiosity, without pressure to achieve anything. If only I just want to and can be prepared to give myself that kind of care and patience, one more fucking time. Cause I've only got one body and I'm so fucking painfully aware of it now. I can't fuck it up again. Detransitioning requires so much more soul-searching and scrambling around in my brain for answers, self-care and patience, etc, than transitioning ever did. Well... that's why I ended up detransitioning, I think. Cause I didn't do a good job at truly looking into myself the first time around. Would I still have wanted to go on T if I had known everything I know now, though? Oh absolutely, but that's not the topic of today.

But whether I'll in the long run wanna live as a male-presenting woman incognito or later on down the road change my body in some way, I can't know for sure at this point. Perhaps I'm just not mentally ready yet to take that kind of leap. Or perhaps I don't ever want to present fully female again and may end up loving this look and contradiction as I grow more secure within myself and more confident. But either which way, I will have to follow this new doubt carefully and see where it takes me. Keep going flat for a while and see how it goes, and see if how I'm perceived really changes based on that and if that really feels better in the long run to be perceived as a man. To take advantage of this very hot summer to be shirtless also in public to test my comfort level with that, and if I'd miss that. To explore my flatness gently and with careful patience to see if it really is so bad. To ask my brain: what is this lingering doubt trying to tell me? I'll start with giving it this summer, then more time if needed. I'll still go to the surgery consultation that could happen anytime now. It's not like I'd have to get the surgery by just going to that consultation, cause I'll need to go through my trauma therapy first, and even if it's expected I'd go through with surgery after consultation, I can always cancel at any point. Also, being informed of what a surgeon can do for me and my specific chest, as well as getting my questions about the surgery answered, would surely be helpful in my decision-making as well. I mean, that's what surgery consultations are for. Because I still lean towards wanting it more than I lean towards maybe not wanting it, I think cautiously proceeding with my thumb close to the cancel button is not a bad idea.

[skylightsofmylife]

All of them you friggin Lovely lady ily

1: Kitchen Counter, Couch, or on top of the dryer?

Kitchen counter if I could ever find a counter the right height. Gonna be a requirement for our house babe, good counter fucking height. 

2: Your last sexual encounter: Good or Bad and why:

Hella good cause it was with you!

3: A fictional person that you think would be good in bed:

Harley Quinn

4: Something that never fails to make you horny:

Rain......

5: Where is one place you would never have sex:

Probably public restrooms and kitchens

6: The most awkward moment during a sexual experience was when ______________

My partner had been going down on me for like an hour and a half and their mouth was starting to get sore/tired and it was my first time. They told me they were starting to get sore and asked me if I was close and I had to say, “I didn’t know if it was polite to cum or not.” Then proceeded to have trouble cumming because I’d edged myself so long and was really nervous/embarrassed. 

7: Weirdest thing that ever made you horny:

One of my exes fingers.... they were just so long and I couldn’t stop imagining all the new places they could reach. 

8: What is the best way to sexually bind someone: Handcuffs, Rope, or Other [if other please explain]:

Other. Pulling the other person’s t-shirt over their head so it blindfolds and binds them. 

9: What is the fastest way to make you horny:

Push me against a wall or do that low sexy whisper in my ear telling me what you want to do to me. 

10: Top or bottom?

Switch

11: We were about to ____________ but then ______________ [example: we were about to have sex but then his mom walked in]

We were about to send people home so we could have sex but then it turned into a birthday orgy. 

12: Is one orgasm enough? Are multiple orgasms necessary?

One can be enough but I like a lot of foreplay in that case and it has to be one of those really strong O’s that leaves you breathless and just wanting to curl up into them and sleep. Not necessary but definitely appreciated. 

13: Something that you have hidden in your room that you don’t want anyone to find:

Idk, both my parents have seen my sex toys so whatevs. I guess me. 

14: Weirdest nickname a significant other has ever called you:

Little butter cause she was big butter. 

15: Two things you like [or dislike] about oral sex:

1) The textures! Oral gives so many more textures than anything else. The hardness of teeth, the dexterity of a soft tongue, the pressure of the lips/suction. 

2) That moment when they stop for a second and you have your hand on the back of their head. Your eyes meet and then you push them back into you. 

16: Weirdest sexual act some has performed [or tried to perform] on/with you:

Probably the time an ex stripped me down to just underwear in front of guests not really with anyones’ permission. 

17: Have you ever tasted yourself? [If no, would you?] [If yes, what did you think?]

Yes, was less flavorful than I thought it would be. Mostly just salty with a slight tang I guess but ever so slight. 

18: Is it ever okay to not use a condom:

Yes. For me there is zero chance of pregnancy and I trust my long-term committed partners as I always have people get tested first. 

19: Who was the sexiest teacher you ever had?

7th grade English teacher. She gave off strong plant filled house, lesbian vibes and was adorably quirky. 

20: A food that you would like to use during a sexual experience:

Maybe whipped cream? 

21: How big is too big:

Vaginally around 7 inches. Anally I have not really found a limit yet. Seems to be if I’m in the mood for it it’s gonna fit. 

22: One sexual thing you would never do:

Gun play

23: Biggest turn on:

See 9.... same question basically. 

24: Three spots that drive you insane:

1) Spot slightly to the left of my bellybutton (feels so good I have to be extremely comfortable with the person because too much and sex has to stop I cramp so bad). 

2) To the left and right of the vulva, where my inseam meets my pelvis. 

3) Neck

25: Worst possible time to get horny:

Never? 

26: Do you like it when your sexual partner moans:

YYYYYYEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSS

27: Worst sexual idea you ever had:

Anal in a shower no lube.... yeah. 

28: How much fapping is too much fapping:

When I start wanting to strangle someone from the noise. 

29: Best sexual complement you ever got:

I’ve never cum from oral before, I can’t  believe you did that to me. 

30: Bald, landing strip, Jumanji:

I’m more of a trimmed natural V line of the genitals. It’s fun to have a little something to hold onto down there. 

31: Is it good sex if you don’t nut:

Oh definitely. It’s not always about you. Sometimes it’s about your partner. 

32: Fill in the blank: “If they ____________, we are fuckin”

Put their hand under my shirt

33: What’s your favorite part of your body:

Right now my vagina.

34: Favorite foreplay activities:

Scratch me up. 

35: Love (>,

..........what? 

36: What do you wear to bed?

T-shirt and panties. 

37: When was the first time you masturbated:

Someone did my first time for me at like 12 or 13. 

38: Do you have any nude/masturbating pictures/video of yourself?

If you want the answer look at my twitter. Shameless plug: https://twitter.com/SkylightsofLife

39: Have you ever/when was the last time you had sex outside?

It’s been a hot minute. When I was 20? Somewhere around there. 

40: Have/would you ever have sex outside?

I have and would again.  

41: Have/would you ever had a threesome?

I have and would again. 

42: What is one random object you’ve used to masturbate?

Nothing? 

43: Have/would you ever masturbate at work/school?

Have and would again. It’s such the exhibitionist dream. 

44: Have/would you ever have sex on a plane?

Probs not. Maybe some up the skirt action with the GF masturbating for me if we could hide it well enough. 

45: What is one song you’d like to have sex to?

Desire by Meg Myers. Yes, I am a freak. 

46: What is something nonsexual that makes you horny?

Rain

47: Most attractive celebrity?

Chyler Leigh

48: Do you watch gay/lesbian porn? why/why not?

Yes, but it has to be actual lesbian targeted porn. Not that crap for cis men. 

49: If a child was born on the occasion of the last time you had sex, how old would that child be right now?

About three months old. 

50: Has anyone ever posted nude pictures of you online?

Probably. Not that it matters. I’ve already “leaked” my own nudes. 

51: What is one thing that NEVER makes you horny?

A dirty dish being in the room while my partner tries to do anything. 

52: Do you have stretch marks? (How do you feel about them? Has anyone ever had a problem with them?)

Yes. Quite fond of the ones on my legs. Not to fond of the ones on my upper butt. Nobody has ever had a problem with them and if they did I wouldn’t keep them around long for shaming something so natural. 

53: Do you like giving head? (why/why not)

FUCK YES. It’s just so much fun. Not really sure why I just know it’s one of my favorite things to do. 

54: How do you feel about tattoos on someone you are interested in?

Please. Just all of them. 

55: How would you feel about taking someones virginity?

I’m perfectly okay with doing it but I want to know first so I can make it special and we are going to talk about it to make sure no lines are crossed. Just want the person to have a good first experience. 

56: Is there any food you would NOT recommend using during a sexual encounter?

Anything sticky. When you’re trying to make things slide easy sticky is the enemy. 

57: Is there anything you do on Tumblr that you would not like your significant other to see?

Nope. She sees it all. She can see anything I do I don’t care. We trust each other completely. It’s why we work so well together in my opinion. 

58: Do you own any sex toys? (what is it? (how long have you had it?)

Yes. Too many to list. Basic gist things that go vvvvbbbbbb, clamps, vaginal and anal penetratives, and bondage stuffs. 

59: Would you give your significant other unrestricted access to your Tumblr for a day?

Sure. Have at it baby. I shit blog most of the time anyways but people seem to like it. 

60: Would you be offended if your significant other suggested you get plastic surgery?

No. They need to do whatever makes them happy. I don’t get a decision in that. I’m here to supplement their happiness not control it. 

61: Would you rather be a pornstar or a prostitute?

Pornstar. I can’t do casual sex. 

62: Do you watch porn?

Yes, we already covered this. Who wrote these redundant questions? 

63: How small is too small?

Everybody has fingers and can use a dildo so nothing. 

64: Have you ever been called a freak? Why?

Hell yes. For so many things. Being gay, being trans, my love of fluid play. 

65: Who gave you your last kiss? Did it mean anything?

The lovely Jessica. Hell yes. I kissed her as she was leaving to get on a plan knowing I wouldn’t see her for months. I cried lots. 

66: Would you switch phones with your significant other for a day?

On a non-workday yes. I need mine for work. 

67: Do you feel comfortable going “commando”?

Haven’t tried yet but in the right clothes probably. Don’t want something that’s gonna rub too hard. 

68: Would you have a problem with going down on someone if they hadn’t shaved their pubic hair?

Nah. I can get down and dirty with the best of them. 

69: If you could give yourself head, would you?

Probably not. Solely for the reason it’s the one thing I can’t do to myself so it feels more special when someone else does it and it’s the one thing I don’t get into a routine of so every experience with it is different and new. 

70: Booty or Boobs?

Can I not have both??? Boobs more though just cause they are so good to lay on. 

71: If you had a penis, what would you name it?

Firehouse, cause everyone wants to slide down the pole in them. ;) I’m dumb. Ignore me. 

72: Have you ever been on an official date?

Yeppers. 

73: Have you ever cheated on someone? (Why?)

Nope. That shit sucks and too many people have done it to me for me to ever put someone else through that pain. 

74: If you were a stripper, what would your name be?

Luna, cause I’m as pale as the moon. 

75: Have you ever had sex in your parents bed? (Would you?)

Not my parents but an exes parents. Was actually an orgy....

76: How would you react if you found out your parents had sex in your bed?

Burn it. 

77: What was your reaction the first time you saw a penis/vagina

Holy crap that’s huge. I love it. 

78: If you had a penis/vagina for a day, what are five things you would do?

As a person who’s had both I don’t feel the need to answer this. 

Ps, fuck you Jess. That’s a lot of freaking questions. You owe me a night of you topping as punishment. 

[stowawayproductions-blog]

The Wife vs Colette vs Lizzie: We Run the World

Written 10/15/18

Glenn Close, Keira Knightly, Kristen Stewart, Chloe Sevigny. I wouldn’t want to meet any of these women in a dark alley, at least not if I’m an arrogant man who’s trying to run their lives.

Within the last two weeks, all three of these powerhouse feminist rants made their way into the Darkside Cinema (our local indie theater in Corvallis, Oregon. You know the one, hidden on top of a bookstore, up two flights of stairs, with the slogan “We Suck Less” scrawled across the olds-mobile style drinks cooler). At a glance, none of them are in my top five of the year, probably not even my top ten, but what they say together elevates them to something worth writing about.

I saw Lizzie first. My fiancee and I went in expecting poetry and got…well, not poetry. He was harder on it than I, tearing to bits its drab writing and hazy narrative. I felt defensive, recognizing the attempt at a feminist rallying cry, and wanting to support the effort even if the product fell short. Kristin Stewart amazes of course, bringing a realistic attitude to the otherwise fantastical cast of characters. Jamie Sheridan is basic, Dennis O’Hare is unnecessarily slimy, and even Chloe Sevigny performs below her talents with a flattened version of what this mysterious character could have become. Everyone else could be replaced with cardboard cutouts and probably deliver their lines with equal fervor. Stewart, however, shines like the sun. She’s meek, defenseless, and defeated. Showing in her emotional climax the level to which women have been beaten into submission; expecting rape, expecting blame, expecting ownership. The mix of determination and apathy is complex and fascinating, giving Stewart the opportunity to use all her skills and defining her career to this point. I cannot wait to see what she brings us next.

Next I saw The Wife. I went solo to this one, and I’m glad I did. I love my fiancee, but there are some stories that we as women have to experience alone, if for no other reason than to be able to sit in a dark theater and quietly hate men without feeling the need to say to the person sitting next to us “well except you dear”; and my goodness, thank you Jonathan Pryce for being willing to be a punching bag for all our pent up aggression. Cathartic and thoughtful, Glenn Close delivers a magnum opus for all women who feel underappreciated next to men in our field who are, often…okay, for the sake of this piece, who are USUALLY not as talented as we are. I’d also like to add that while working the register at said local theater (yes I work there now, definite pay drop but huge moral promotion), The Wife received mixed reviews from patrons exiting, however everyone who didn’t like it happened to be, you guessed it, a middle aged man. One man told me why he didn’t like it, saying that the characters were unrealistic and the story unbelievable: “That would never happen in this day and age”, “A woman who’s supposed to be so intelligent and in tune with her emotions would have handled that situation better”. Guess what sir who-I’m-not-allowed-to-yell-at-because-you’re-a-customer, this would ABSOLUTELY happen in this day and age, and normal humans who are just trying to fucking survive would ABSOLUTELY handle it that way. It’s hard to get into this without spoiling the plot, but for those of us who have had the honor of witnessing this beautiful story, Joan (Close) is a disturbingly accurate vessel for our thoughts and feelings on ambition, devotion, and making it through the day as a second class citizen. The whole cast is splendid, the story moving, and the message bone-shaking, forcing me into an existential crisis, wondering if I even culturally have the potential to ever be sat next to equals, or if I will always be in a class below, paired up with men who are less than me but seen as equal because the “real” men are at the other table making Birdman and Moonlight and winning all the things. But I digress. As I did for an entire night. Moving on.

Lastly I saw Colette. Ah Keira Knightly, I wanted to be you as a little girl watching Pirates of the Caribbean, and I want to be you today as a grown woman trying to figure out what being creative and independent really means. A beautifully rendered ode to classic filmmaking, Colette rises from its traditional format to challenge the heavyweight dramas of today. Its story is elegant, its writing is soft, is message is clear, and Keira Knightly reminds us all why being a woman is not something to overcome but something of which we are god damn proud. With hints of sexual freedom and trans rights that don’t overshadow the central theme, we’re privileged to observe three dimensional characters fraught with believable and relatable issues. Unlike Stewart and Sevigny in the above-mentioned lesbian period piece, Knightly crackles with chemistry with not one, not two, but THREE of her female dalliances, making the sex scenes not only enjoyable (this coming from someone who has never seen a sex scene that I consider necessary) but enlightening to the story and character.

To (finally) get back to my original point: I am honored to be living in a time when I can see these three movies back to back, and more-so when I can write about these movies and not be dismissed as just a “woman writer”, and these women, some real and some fictional, have made this reality possible. It is a bit of a shame that the directors of these films are Bjorn Runge, Craig William Macneill, and Wash Westmoreland (see an ironic pattern?), but regardless of that, these films are a one-two-three punch at a world that has changed so much in the direction of inclusion, but still has so far to go. Watch out boys, we’re coming to take our stage and we’ve got talent, determination, and years of pent up rage on our side. Next step: hand over the camera and let us tell our own stories.

“The hand that holds the pen writes history” — Colette, 2018

Ratings: Lizzie — Disappointing; in my bottom 2 of 2018. The Wife — Great; in my top 10 of 2018. Colette — Great; in my top 10 of 2018.

Great 6) Sorry to Bother You 7) The Wife 8) Colette 9) How to Talk to Girls at Parties 10) The Death of Stalin 11) Eighth Grade 12) Love, Simon 13) RBG 14) The Old Man and the Gun 15) Bad Times at the El Royale 16) Lean On Pete 17) You Were Never Really Here 18) Crazy Rich Asians

Good 19) BlackkKlansman 20) First Reformed 21) First Man 22) A Quiet Place 23) Annihilation 24) Blaze 25) Tag 26) The Miseducation of Cameron Post 27) The Hate U Give 28) Hereditary 29) Avengers: Infinity War 30) Black Panther 31) Tully 32) Searching 33) Mandy

Some Issues 34) Halloween 35) A Star Is Born 36) The Spy Who Dumped Me 37) Disobedience 38) Pick of the Litter 39) Ready Player One 40) A Simple Favor

Disappointing 41) Lizzie 42) The Party

[doomednarrative]

Odd numbered questions

Since you didn’t give me a character, I answered them all for Rhys. (This is really really long so every question after the first is under a read more.)

1. What does their bedroom look like?

Post Helios crashing, all of the Handsome Jack posters have been removed and torn up. I like to think that Rhys has his own room in the Helios remains camp so that he can visit Vaughn and the others whenever he wants to, and I think this room would actually be kinda bare, if only because of the lack of resources available to decorate with. If they’re able to find any paint maybe he’d paint it the Altas colors since he’s now the Atlas CEO, but other than that there’s not much there besides a bed and nightstand and a closet for his clothes. (Later down the line in my vision for post game story, he basically just moves into Vaughn’s room and that’s a bit more decorated.)

3. Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?

Rhys is definitely Not the exercise type (despite Vaughn’s best effort to get his twig of a best friend/boyfriend to put on some muscle), but he’s at least taken to going on daily walks when he can either around the camp or outside of it for a bit. Keeps the fresh ideas flowing and at least keeps him on guard.

5. Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)

It depends on his mental health most days honestly. For appearances alone if he’s got a day full of important CEO duties, he’ll always make the effort to get dressed up and look very presentable for the time that he’s at work. When he gets home tho, if it’s a bad mental health day, that all goes out the door when he steps foot in his room and can decompress. If he’s Really bad mentally, sometimes Vaughn has to step in and remind Rhys to do some things so he doesn’t fall into bad habits permanently.

7. Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time

I feel like Rhys is the type who would probably enjoy drawing in his spare time. He doesn’t get to do  it often since he’s a CEO with a lot of duties there and he likes hanging out with his friends a lot, but when he does get to, its more loose doodling and more often than not used as a stress relief. He might have some negative thoughts about wasting time when there’s more important things to do, but he also knows that sometimes he Has to separate himself from his work, both for his own mental health and because Vaughn or Fiona will Make Him take some time off if he won’t do it himself.

9. Makeup?

Considering I headcanon Rhys as trans, I’m gonna say that makeup isn’t really his thing. Though he has been known to wear just a bit of eyeliner from time to time when the mood strikes. (He sucks at applying it tho and asks Fiona to help him whenever he does wear it.)

11. Intellectual pursuits?

After pulling out all his cybernetics on his own and fucking up some stuff internally by doing so, Rhys started collecting as much reading material in any and all forms about cybernetics and how to build and maintain and install them as he could. He’s become a lot more knowledgeable about the topic since having to do so to save his own arm and eye, and he plans to use that knowledge to help out the people of Pandora later on in the future through the use of Atlas tech. (His own cybernetics still aren’t the best because he jury-rigged them in the beginning when he was kinda desperate and not at full mental capacity, and his fine motor control suffers because of this, but he’s constantly working on the tech to improve it. He’s no expert in the field, at least when it comes to self application, but he’s trying his best.)

13. Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general?

If he had to put a label on it, Rhys would probably say that he’s pansexual, leaning more towards men. In terms of what he thinks in general about orientations though? He really couldn’t give two shits. People are who they are and like who they like and he’s not one to judge for any of that. It’s honestly one of the furthest things from his mind a lot of the time.

15. Biggest and smallest short term goal?

(This one I actually don’t have an answer for, but when I think of one, I will post it.)

17. Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress

Rhys has two modes of dress: Fully suited kickass CEO, or oversized shirts with the sleeve possibly ripped off for his cybernetic arm with baggy sweatpants. He’s either at the top of his fashion game or he gives no two shits either way.

19. What do they think about before falling asleep at night?

Depends when you’re asking. Pre him and Vaughn getting together, probably about all the shit he regrets with Jack and Helios crashing and all the people he’s killed and horrible things he did in the name of his job on Hyperion. Post him and Vaughn getting together when they start sharing a room and sleeping in the same bed? He tries to focus more on the now, on being lucky that he’s still alive after Jack tried to kill him and that he still has his friends and that they’re here together.

21. Turn-ons? Turn-offs?

Honestly, people being nice to him and not calling him a dumbass is his major turn on. Turn offs is a longer list but the top of that list is people degrading him and only seeing him as a klutz and not someone they can take seriously.

23. How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?

Rhys is chaotically organized, much to his friends and potential future employee’s dismay. I headcanon him as having ADHD, so some of it definitely comes from that. The other part though comes from the fact that he just has his own ways of doing things that don’t make sense to anyone except him (and sometimes Vaughn.) He’s never lost any important documents or the like, but he’s more prone to losing certain articles of clothing (except for his socks, he’s careful with those) and other more personal items. He can’t count the number of times he’s misplaced his stun baton when he really needed it.

25. How do they see themselves 5 years from today?

Married to Vaughn while being a successful CEO for Atlas and actually making decent strides at improving life on Pandora for All it’s inhabitants and basically doing the Opposite of what he would have been doing on Helios if he were still there.

27. What is their biggest regret?

He has a Lot of regrets that plague his conscious constantly for a long time, but plugging that goddamn ID Drive of Nakayama’s into his data port is one of the Biggest ones. So much shit wouldn’t have happened if he had never done that and hadn’t let Jack get deep into his systems.

29. Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?)

Rhys is the one who runs around screaming (most times) until someone gives him instructions on what to do. He does have times though if he’s able to be level headed enough that he can make a solid plan to solve the problem as well.

31. Most prized possession?

The ECHOeye implant where Jack’s AI is held captive. (if you had him keep it and not destroy it that is, which I did.) It’s not prized for the fact that it’s important to him or that he misses Jack or anything like that. It’s prized because he knows if He has the implant, no one else can get ahold of Jack but him. And keeping Jack in the implant means that he’s suffering alone in there by himself which Rhys feels is what he deserves. (He keeps the implant in a bio-encrypted lock deep down in his office’s vaults at Atlas. No one except him knows that it’s even stored there.)

33. Concept of home and family?

His friends are his family. Vaughn, Fiona, Sasha, LB, Gortys, heck even Athena and Janey and August, he considers them all his family to some degree, with Vaughn being the closest out of all of them. And as far as a home goes, that’s just wherever they all happen to be together in his mind.

35. What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

As mentioned earlier, Rhys enjoys doodling at times but sometimes considers it a waste when he knows he has more important things he could be doing with his time.

37. Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making?

Absolutely more emotional. He goes with whatever his heart tells him is right every single time, which doesn’t always have the best results.

39. What recharges them when they’re feeling drained?

Rhys used to play guitar a bit in college, but once he got to Hyperion that hobby died very quickly. Somehow, Fiona found out this fact (most likely through Vaughn since Rhys never talks about it) and gave Rhys a slightly used guitar she was able to pawn off of someone one day as a gift. She claims it was just to get him out of everyones hair but really, it was just her being nice. Rhys has since then been slowly learning how to play again and likes to pull it out and play by himself when he’s too low on energy to be social. (If he’s too drained for even that, then a nap will normally suffice for a recharge as well. Preferably one with Vaughn, but those are few and far between since he’s got people to look after.)

41. How misanthropic are they?

Rhys is normally a pretty social person and generally enjoys society, but at times, he does tend to withdraw from people and isolate himself after the Helios incident. It’s not for the fact of hating people or society in general, it’s more the fact that he spent so much time alone after defeating Jack and while rebuilding Atlas that sometimes, being around people is just too much and he needs some time alone. He gets better with this as the years go by, but in the beginning he’ll sometimes go two or three days alone before interacting with people again. (His friends worry the first few times this happens, especially Vaughn, but they come to understand his reasoning after he actually takes the time to explain his absences to them. Vaughn is sometimes allowed to see him during those times though because he’s Vaughn and he knows how to just be around Rhys naturally and do his own work without making Rhys talk or interact much.)

43.How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education?

It’s canon that Rhys went to college, but as far as actually finishing and what degrees he got, I’d say he got his bachelors and no further than that, unless he was doing his own independent studying on his own, which he might have done to push himself forward at Hyperion. Rhys is all for self education, he’s constantly doing that himself when it comes to running Atlas and learning what he needs to do to be a successful CEO there.

45. Superstitions or views on the occult?

Don’t think Rhys is much for superstitions or the occult. He doesn’t really Need to be when things like Vault Monsters exist in real life for him.

47. If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal?

Vaughn is definitely his ideal person. He compliments Rhys in a lot of different ways, they have a lot of history from being best friends for so long, and they get each other on a deeper level. Vaughn has always been important to Rhys throughout their whole journey from college to Hyperion to the now. And after seeing how Vaughn grew as a person during the time they were separated, he really came to appreciate him as he was and is. Vaughns is his best bro after all, and bros gotta stick together.

49. If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?

If he remembers to use his robotic arm to fight, then Rhys might actually stand a chance at least to not be knocked out during a fist fight. But if not, he’s extremely weak and will be beat to shit. He really has no style for physical fights other than “Throw my fist and see if it hurts them.”

[feraldavestrider]

i never check my mentions apparently @alpacalmond and @uiyutrentasei tagged me in a GTKM thing so im gonna do it oh uhhhh 2 weeks later LOL because i cant sleep and i hate myself

i tag @hal-strider if they didnt do it? and @noctiilucent, @kiyumiarashi, @whimsicmimic and @ataliaf uwu and anyone else who wants to do it!!

how tall are you: this is a cryptid question. i get a different result every time i try to measure myself and ive never asked anyone else to do it for me. some people tell me im very short, others have told me im average height for someone who is afab. im gonna hazard a guess at 5′5 tho.

what colour are your eyes: very dark brown

do you wear contacts and/or glasses: glasses. i literally CANNOT see without them. i mean like 2 inches from my glasses-less face is so blurry its unbelievable. i get super triggered by eye stuff tho so contacts are a no go ALSO i look weird w/o glasses anyway.

do you wear braces: no my teeth r p good actually. one is a bit wonky but thats life

what is your fashion style: i mean 90% panties and a sweaty 4 day tshirt because i just spend all day in my room like a goblin. BUT when i actually go out im ur basic ass post-emo trans dude with skinny jeans, converse and a too-big graphic tee. sometimes i spice it up with a plaid shirt because im fuckin GAY.

when were you born: october 12th 1999, babey

how old are you: 18 motherfucker flashes my titties and gulps a bottle of vodka im an ADULT

do you have any siblings: yes. a younger brother and hes a cunt

what school/college do you go to: im at sixth form rn (last yr of highschool technically if ur american but im not and hs finishes at 16 yrs old here deal with it). im going uni next yr tho and this years almost over for me academically since we go on study leave soon for our final exams. uwu overshares

what kind of student are you: the asshole who never studies for tests and does homework at 5am the morning before and still manages to pull straight As to everyones anger. im also the adhd class clown who makes random noises and cant concentrate half the time. ik i hate myself too im so annoying irl even more so than online.

what are your favorite subjects: in terms of actual content of the subject, english lit fs. in terms of classmates/teachers/general atmosphere DEFFO drama we spend half of our time eating cake, singing random shit and just losing our minds while filming it on snapchat which shouldnt at all be allowed.

what are your favorite movies: god idek. um. fuck. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA i cant think of a single movie. ok ok ok i got it: white chicks, premium rush, scott pilgrim vs the world, the cornetto triology too i just love edgar hes such a great director. i like a lot of the marvel movies esp the spiderman hc and thor ragnorok and both gotg were p good. i love a lot of movies my brains just a void that sucks memories up into its fat gob and steals them from me forever.

what are your pastimes: sleeping, crying, used to be rping but i gave up on that, playing overwatch way too much and getting tilted because im shit, reading fanfictions did i say sleeping

do you have many regrets: dude. my guy. come in close. let me whisper in ur ear. are you close? no, closer. ok. 

YES

what is your dream job: whoo boy. im do indecisive and i think a LOT of jobs seem super cool that id never do i.e. be an actor or be in a band. my dream job since i was like 8 was to be a writer which is unlikely since i cant even finish a pwp oneshot. but thatd be cool. id also like to write plays and direct them but thats also wild and v dream > reality. 

would you like to get married: honestly. marriage as an institution? angers me. i dont like a lot of things about it. BUT. part of the reason i hate it is honestly if ur in a long long term relationship with someone ur better off married than not in terms of the benefits so. id happily get married if the other person wanted and/or we felt like it was the right thing to do, i just dont really care about being married or having a wedding tbh.

do you want kids? how many if so: no. hard pass. i might adopt if im long-term with someone who SUPER wants kids but that likely wont happen because i dont want to get into a long-term relationship with someone so desperate for kids since i dont have that same enthusiasm. sorry. ill be ur uncle gabe but im not having my own children im just not well equipped to literally have a full time job of making sure little idiots (meant affectionately) who dont know fuck from shit dont just straight up die. i can barely do that for myself.

how many countries have you visited: shit dude actually ive only visited like... uh... 4??? a lot of my holidays tend to be to the same countries (portugal/america) so i dont have that much experience like i feel like i do.

what was your scariest dream: hmmmm. when i was a kid i had these recurring dreams where i worked at this like. “zoo” where these MASSIVE, i mean ABSOLUTELY MASSIVE string rays that were also pancakes were like. hooked up to make electricity? anyway i hated the job because we all abused the rays super bad to make them generate the power and it sucked and it was all dystopian. there was stuff where like we had to kill the baby rays and stuff. anyway one day it went all planet of the apes and they broke out somehow and could fly and they killed loads of people and i had to go into hiding because they were super clever and could id who had worked at the zoo plant and wanted revenge. its super weird ik but this is pretty tame for my dreams they go HARD and BIZARRE and this one always made me wake up feeling super sick and scared idk. ur welcome.

do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend/significant other: no im lonely but its ok because i need to work on me 

put your playlist on shuffle and without skipping the first 15 songs: ok so i dont really have a “playlist” per se so im just gonna use my top 100 2017 songs on spotify which ignores a lot of my non-spotify non-2017 bangers but whatever.

1) ‘My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark’ by FOB

2) ‘Tuxford Fall’ - Vasudeva

3) ‘Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn’t Get Sued’ - FOB

4) ‘Fried Noodles: Getter Remix’ - Pink Guy, Getter (listen ive never watched any filthy frank he weirds me out but this is a banger)

5) ‘Brick By Boring Brick’ - Paramore

6) ‘Thnks Fr Th Mmrs’ - FOB (i really dont listen to this much fob this is crazy)

7) ‘Death Note L’s Theme Goes Metal’ - Charlie Parra del Riego (theres no defence for this)

8) ‘Turnstile’ - Vasudeva

9) ‘Idle Worship’ - Paramore

10) ‘Monster’ - Paramore

11) ‘Miss Missing You’ - FOB

12) ‘The City’ - Madeon

13) ‘Far Too Young To Die’ - P!ATD

14) ‘Don’t Stop’ - Nothing More (really this is the band i listen to much smh these results are so skewed)

15) ‘Smile Like You Mean It’ - The Killers

[lilnasxvevo]

I wrote an essay once when it was really late and I was really frustrated

I am not going to send it to my literary journal and I did not even hand it in for the class I wrote it for (the next essay I wrote was passable enough to submit) but I think it is kind of funny so I am going to share it with you

Zoom Zoom

           Draft number four of this FUCKING essay because I can’t FUCKING write. I just through out the last three because they sucked and excuse my language but I’m so frustrated at myself and I typed the wrong homophone in the last sentence and I went back and changed it but then I changed it back so you understand where I’m at right now because I NEVER!! MAKE!! SPELLING MISTAKES!! I was on the editorial staff of my high school newspaper for two years and that shit was flawless! I was editor in chief and that shit was free of god damn error! I do not make! Spelling mistakes!

           I’m so frustrated because part of me just wants to write about a motherfucking TV show and the rest of me is like, “No, Thomas, that’s so fucking stupid, write about something that’s serious, something people can take seriously, something people can respect, but NOT something boring” and I’m like OK!! WELL!! THAT’S A TALL ORDER YOU’VE GIVEN YOURSELF TOMMY BOY!!

           I’ve been trying to copy the style of the essays we’ve been reading in the last three drafts I just started and abandoned. I wrote…lets see…(I will be keeping all future grammar and spelling errors that I make) over 1300 words that way so far today. Fuck it!! I am going to be writing like ME and what I write like is a protagonist from a really sub-par young adult novel. I read a lot of those! But I was already like that before I read all those books. Actually most of the ones I read are pretty great. Holly Black, David Levithan, uh those Girl, 15, Charming but Insane books I forget who writes them but if I look it up I have to stop my timer and that is just not happening—check em out, they’re great. Oh, Eoin Colfer, too. I have his autograph! I actually also have David’s.

           I made a list of all the things I could write this essay about. I didn’t want to write about being queer again because I don’t want you people to pigeonhole me. There’s like 50 items on that list. I’ll spare you. The list sucks. I texted my best friend “What should I write this essay about” and she said “Roman Catholicism” and I was like “Maybe” and she was like “Vampires” and I was like “LMFAO you will never believe what I wrote last time spoiler it was vampires.”

           I have ADHD. Sometimes this surprises people! Sometimes it does not! Usually it doesn’t surprise other people who have ADHD because we go based on our lived experiences instead of stereotypes unlike SOME people. I was diagnosed when I was 17 which is super super late but they literally, and you can look this up, base most criteria off of the symptoms of little white cisgender boys, who are usually hyperactive, and I was inattentive type. My third grade teacher used to slap my desk with a ruler when I spaced out. She never brought up my attention issues to anyone else. I hated her. I still hate her. Curse you, Cathy Sellers!!

           I have chilled out on the caps lock because maybe that was kind of a gimmick. Ok. Well. The ADHD. I actually don’t remember why I brought up ADHD, which is classic ADHD. Oh. I think it was to say that maybe you will be surprised that the inside of my head is this giant mess. Not to be all “welcome to my twisted mind” or that edgy shit. Maybe I’m trying to make an embarrassing essay on purpose. The point is some people think I’m very composed and stuff and the inside of my head has never once been composed. Well, maybe a few times. I miss standardized testing because they don’t really matter and they were fun to focus on and it was fun to fill the bubbles in and they made me feel smart. I am smart. I promise I’m smart. Sometimes people think I’m dumb because I’m a trans man which I don’t understand but I promise I’m smart.

           I just slapped my face to try to get myself to wake up a little bit. I am wiped. That cold that’s been going around is kicking my ass, though not as bad as it’s kicking the ass of other students in this class who I have maybe potentially had to drive to the pharmacy this week.

           I am so obsessed with this show on BBC America right now called Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency. In ADHD circles this is sometimes called a hyperfixation—it’s kind of like the special interests autistic people have, surprise surprise ADHD and autism are both developmental disorders and they have a lot in common. Dirk Gently is all I can think about. It’s a really great show and I loved it last season because it has the actor Samuel Barnett as the lead actor and I swore my fealty to him in like 2014 and then he got a lead on a TV show which is crazy because he never gets big roles like that so I was like NICE!!! Yeah, so last season was sci-fi, and the show is really great and it has this big diverse cast and all the characters are really interesting and the show never leans on stereotype instead of fleshing out a character as a unique person and there were electric crossbows last season that were designed by that Adam Savage dude from Mythbusters. So but this season, THIS SEASON, is SO good because apparently the show is planning on “switching genres” every season but with the same main cast so now they’ve been running around trying to find each other after everyone got separated at the end of last season (spoiler) and now they’re all in Montana and instead of sci-fi it’s FANTASY which is my FAVORITE. There’s another dimension that’s this great high-fantasy nation called Wendimoor and there’s a door between the valley of Inglenook and this one town in Montana for reasons that I refuse to explain, just watch the show. Ok and in Inglenook, there’s—it’s kind of sketchy how it works but there’s this guy named Panto Trost who has pink hair (his whole family has pink hair and it’s unclear if it’s genetic or if they dye it as a tribal marker or something, and when I first saw it I was like, HOLY SHIT, WHY DID I NEVER THINK OF THAT), and he’s the prince of Inglenook, and there’s this guy named Silas Dengdamor, who’s some kind of minor prince in Inglenook somehow, and THEY. ARE. A GAY INTERRACIAL HIGH FANTASY COUPLE. THEY ARE IN LOVE.

           And the guy who plays Silas, Lee Majdoub, he’s really active on Twitter and Tumblr, which is crazy because almost no one is active on Tumblr under their real name and it’s mostly just depressed young adults like me, but Lee fields questions about the show all the time and talks about how it was an honor to play a gay prince and he has so much love for Silas and he put so much work into this character which you can tell because he has an answer ready for everything. Has he ridden that train we saw? Is he gay or bi or what? What are his hobbies? If he lived in our world what would his favorite movie be? His five favorite songs? Does he agree with his family’s stance on the feud? (Oh my god I forgot to MENTION that the Trosts and the Dengdamors are TWO FAMILIES AT WAR, which makes Silas and Panto basically gay Romeo and Juliet, but hopefully they won’t die but Dirk Gently is a “don’t get attached” kind of show.)

           And did I mention he’s respectful??? My favorite answer he’s ever given is when someone asked him what it was like to kiss Chris Russell (the other actor), which is a question every fucking presumed-straight actor gets when they play a gay role, and since there is a 4 inch height difference between them, Lee answered something like, “It was a little weird because Chris is very tall, so I felt a little like Natalie Portman in Thor. Natalie Portman and I both have dark hair so we’re practically twins.” Also he is very handsome. It is important that Lee Majdoub is very handsome. Okay, it’s important to me.

           Wow, glad I got that off my chest. It’s kind of all I ever want to talk about. Two weeks ago, before I could do my actual writing assignment for the day, I had to freewrite about Kevin Spacey for like AN HOUR. What I wrote ended up being kind of unusable for this class thus far, I just haven’t been pleased enough with the way it handled a very sensitive topic to hand it in, but it was about Kevin Spacey and Jeffrey Dahmer and OUT magazine and news media and Anthony Rapp and me.

           I wanted to write about a historical figure for this paper but all the ones I could think of that I have a strong connection to were gay. While I was typing that sentence, I thought of Dorothy Parker. Well, shit. Another day, then.

           This paper is what we call a RISK!!! pleasedontfailme

           Here are some excerpts from the other three papers I tried to write today:

·         Sometimes I sing and dance in front of them. Sometimes I scream. One time, I stood on a desk.

·         The last time I told her I was proud of her I could only do it because she had consumed an obscene amount of wine and called me to talk about one of Shakespeare’s history plays

·         I am afraid that I am a husk a husk a HUSK a husK a husk a husk a husk of Corn-ell because

I promise these essays were not good. These were the only good parts. I wanted to include them because I wanted you to understand that I covered a lot of fucking ground before settling on whatever the fuck this is. I am sorry if you feel you would rather be reading one of those other essays, but I did not want to write them.

           I just scrolled back up to the top because I remembered abruptly that this essay doesn’t have a name. It’s called Zoom Zoom now. When my sister is bored while she drives, she says, “Zoom zoom! We’re zooming!” She is 24 and has a master’s degree. This particular catchphrase of hers always comes to mind when I try to describe how my brain works—childish, too fast, bored. Her boyfriend says “Brroom brroom” when he drives. I think he picked it up from her. He calls me Thomathy. Because Thomas can be Tom for short and Tom is like Tim and Tim is short for Timothy. Get it? He says “Thomathy” sounds like a disease. I think he likes me anyway. Even though one time during a heated game of Monopoly I told him I would eat chips at his funeral.

           I have three cats. One is ten years old, the other two are one. I have a rabbit. He’s a jerk. That’s all you need to know about me. Oh, I’m from Wisconsin. My favorite color is orange.

           Yeah so thanks for coming to my TED talk. Please buy a t-shirt on my way out, they’re $20. I know TED talks don’t usually have t-shirts but I want your money. Yes. Now scram.

  Are they gone?

Jesus, I’m so fucking tired.

[thedefinitionofbts]

Young

Alternatively “Wings of My Words” (你曾是少年)

Pairings: Jung Hoseok x Reader 

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Slice of Life, Tennis Player!Hoseok

Words: 10K

Description: 

He was someone you weren’t supposed to trust, someone who could break down your walls and leave you more vulnerable than you ever thought you could be. He was everything you knew you should stay away from, so why didn’t you think before falling?

Well, that’s simply because like every one who came before you, you were once rightfully and unapologetically…

Young.

A/N: Loosely inspired by the song “Young” by *cue Hobi’s voice* “their friends The Chainsmokers” and S.H.E’s “你曾是少年” (trans: you were once a youngster)

They say that when you reach your late-twenties you were supposed to have settled with a job, perhaps be on your way to marriage, starting a family, and have a relatively clear blueprint of the next ten or twenty years of your life. It’s when you’ve reached that period when musings like the meaning of existence, love, and the pursuit of happiness were things that you didn’t have time to contemplate because work life was hectic, you always had too much on your plate, and those youthful days of dreaming have long passed.

But that’s just what they say.

And it’s those moments where you’re sitting in a coffee shop, reading a book as the people on the streets outside go about their day, when the endless loneliness of your late-twenties, a time when you used to think by now you’d know what future you wanted to head towards and you should have life figured out and the path paved, hit you the hardest.  

You weren’t expecting anything in particular to happen today, but life in actuality is full of surprises.

“Y/N?”

The sound of his voice cuts through the background noise that you have consciously blocked out so you could enjoy the book gripped between your two hands, and you initially think you are just hearing things because the rhythm of the musical noise and the tone of the words escaping that person’s lips is so familiar it makes you actually believe you’re in a dream because the last time you heard that voice echo those exact syllables was ten years ago. But at this point, you have nothing to lose, so you look up from the words on the page just to make sure.

And it’s that defining moment in every cliché movie, the one where the main characters see each other for the first time in years, and they share this tumultuous past that the audience exists just to hear about.

Ok, maybe not that dramatic, but close enough.

And he looks just as good as the first time you set your eyes on him. He’s dressed differently though, draped in attire that makes him look more mature. His jawline is even more chiseled than you last remembered, raised eyebrows giving away the fatigue of age enhanced by the subtle wrinkling of his forehead. But his eyes…his eyes have not changed, even though they are looking at you in the most astonished way possible.

His hot cup of coffee is still gripped in his hand, and you can almost see it tremble slightly as you watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, swallowing and averting his eyes, most likely regretting calling out your name.

“H-Hoseok?” You manage to mutter just before he is able to utter an apology for disturbing you and running off.

  …

It was your first day of school. Scratch that. First day at your new school. You were already in your junior year of high school, when your dad decided to switch jobs and move your whole family to a new town, ripping you away from everything you knew: the close knit group of friends that you had been with for years, the relationships you had already begun to build with your teachers (for the purpose of getting good letters of recommendation for college), and the dreams you had worked towards reaching in tennis.

A small town up north with no indoor tennis courts.

How the fuck are you supposed to play in the winter? Junior year is when coaches recruit players for college, and every tennis player knows even a day without practice could negatively effect your game. It was absolutely vital that you got enough court time, something that will soon turn into an impossible feat. 

“Just focus on your studies from now on. There’s no use playing in college anyways.” Was what your dad had said to you, after you had dreamed of becoming a professional tennis player since you were 10, but soon realized being a professional athlete was not in the cards for you, not in this universe at least. Hence, at 15, you decided to change your plans and play in college instead; thinking at least you could get into a top school on a full scholarship that way.

Well, not anymore.

And the fact that the girls’ tennis team at your new school sucked balls (figuratively and probably literally too) made your point even more valid. Who were you even going to practice with? It’s not like the shitty town had a tennis club with experienced coaches or good players for that matter.

But enough of the details.

Point is things weren’t looking too bright for you. At least you managed to make a couple of friends pretty quickly, word got around about you leading the girls team to their first ever championship and also taking over the valedictorian-to-be spot with your perfect grades. Seolhyun, the girl who apparently held that spot before you came along, wasn’t too happy about it judging from the glares she would shoot you whenever you passed by her in the halls. But that’s to be expected right? You were no stranger to cutthroat competition and innate female jealousy, heck, you survived a number of years in the junior league where saying that it was a dog eat dog world was putting it nicely.

Your new group of friends, Jisoo, Jenny, Rose, and Lisa were four of the most popular girls in school, and they were pretty adamant about inviting you to be a part of their clique (something about anyone who could get Seolhyun jealous was worthy of joining them). And yeah, schools in small towns are cliquey, which you found out pretty early on. You didn’t want to join them at first, being the type to stray away from rumors and avoid high school drama like the plague, but you figured sitting with them at their “popular” lunch table was better than eating alone in the corner for the next two years.

“What’d you get?” Lisa voices, nodding to Rose, who was scrutinizing her test paper that the teacher had handed back last class.

“87” Rose huffs. “I was this close to an A” She says, rolling her eyes and folding the paper and tucking it away in her backpack.

“Still pretty good” Jisoo shrugs.

“Y/N, what did you get?” Jenny queries, turning towards you.

You look down at the perfectly preserved paper in your hands, not a single red mark to be found. No surprise, in fact you’d be disappointed in yourself if there were.

“100” Lisa voices, peeking over at your test.

…

All was going well in your new school. You were on your way to making it through the last two years of high school with virtually with no more bumps in the road… or so you naively thought.

It was everything about the way he carried himself, the way he dressed, the way he interacted with his friends and other students whom he clearly held an air of superiority towards that screamed stay away, especially for a star student like you. You needed to focus on getting into your dream school, now that tennis wasn’t a valid option any longer; a perfect SAT score combined with a commendable GPA was the ticket to getting where you were supposed to go.

No slip ups. And absolutely no distractions.

He was someone you definitely didn’t want to get involved with, and you knew that. You fucking knew it like the back of you hand, and it wasn’t a source of alarm, not at first, not at all, and certainly not obvious in the least. Something as impossible as falling for him was never a worry, never an imminent concern, and didn’t even show up on your radar until he called your name for the first time.

Being the No. 1 singles player on the girl’s team and winning the seasonal championship for your school last fall season (which would not have been possible had you not joined the team despite their crappy record), it wasn’t a surprise that the coach of the boys tennis team asked if you wanted to help out in the spring as a student assistant coach. Especially since the boy’s coach was a close friend of your fathers. They had played on the same team back during their university days, and he had helped you train last summer, so it was only natural that you would repay the favor. They were short on hands anyways.

Spring was boys tennis season. And today was the first day of practice and of course it would be raining outside in a town with, you repeat, no indoor tennis courts, meaning that there was no way you could play outside on the actual courts in risk of slipping and sustaining an injury that would have you out all season. The coach had decided to just have the team gather in the gym where he could go over logistics.

Everything was moving along smoothly until you decided to walk past the area where everyone was playing around to get to you phone, which you somehow accidentally left in your backpack. Very unlike you. And thinking back, it was perhaps because of your unlucky fate that it just so happened to be today that you would make your biggest mistake in high school…or so you thought at the time.

“Y/N, watch out!” You hear someone shout as you watch a fluffy yellow tennis ball zoom past your eyes. If you were a single step further along your walk to your backpack, you would’ve been hit smack in the face, earning you a bruised eye and who knows how many comments the next day.

You turn to see where the ball came from, only to have your eyes land on a boy wearing a backwards cap, decked out in Nike tennis apparel, and sporting a cheeky grin as he waited for you to turn and face him.

“Careful there” He says with a wink as you continue to stare, wondering how he knew your name when you didn’t have a clue who he was.

The flutter in your chest that the 17 year old you had not experienced in the past caught you by surprise as your eyes met his in that infinitesimal second that felt like a fleeting eternity. It snuck up on the you who was foolishly defenseless and unassuming, and it converted a seemingly harmless and deceptively casual encounter into a serendipitous moment you would look back on and remember for years to come.

…

A few days later, you see him again. And you start to wonder why you had never seen him around before. It was like after the day you became aware of his existence, there was no way to ignore the fact that he went to your school and he was, no matter how much you tried to ignore the thought, “pretty cute” as described by your 17 year old self. In your defense, finding a human being of the opposite sex attractive was not something out of the ordinary. But it was completely new to you because before this, you had never considered any of the guys in high school to be even remotely datable, based on your standards, which everyone you had discussed the matter with voiced that they were too high.

But to each their own, you would argue.

He was wearing his cap backwards again, a signature of his you assumed, a style that conveniently revealed his smooth forehead and even smoother facial skin. Wow, he didn’t even have pimples. But he did have this douche-y smirk plastered on his face as he spoke with his guy friends. One of which looked like some emo dude who didn’t give fuck and another who was tall which you recognized from literature class because he was always the first to raise his hand to answer questions. The entire scene was somehow attractive to you, and you knew from then, you were doomed.

“Who’s that?” You asked while eating lunch with your group of friends.

Jennie turns her head in the direction that you were looking. “Oh, you mean Jung Hoseok?”

“Hoseok?” You repeat, feeling the syllables roll off your tongue like you had finally found what you had been looking for, as if you were finally getting a taste of water after a long period of perpetual thirst.

“Yeah, he’s No. 1 on the boys team. He’s held that spot since freshman year, a real player. Figuratively and Literally.” Jennie says.

“What do you mean?” You inquire, finally dragging your gaze away from the magnetic source it was being drawn towards to turn to the girls, who were all looking at you now.

“Y/N, don’t tell me you’ve never seem him making out with a different girl every week.” Rosie replies. “He takes PDA to the next level. ”

You raise an eyebrow, grabbing another glance at the expensively dressed boy who was still busy talking to his group of guy friends.

“He may not look it, but-“ Rosie

“May not look it?” Jisoo cuts her off mid-sentence. “Have you seen the way he dresses? That button up shirt and slacks scream douche bag. Nobody dresses that nicely for school unless they were trying to impress people.”

“Preppy and rich. He’s a tennis player, what do you expect?” Lisa shrugs.

“I’m a tennis player” You defend, instincts kicking back in and siding against stereotypes against all tennis players in the world.

“We know, but you’re different” Jennie says, patting you on the shoulder. 

“Yeah, Hoseok just does it to get girls” Jisoo explains. “When was the last time he’s been in an actual relationship?”

“Ha, like never” Rose scoffs.

“Isn’t he with Seolhyun?” Lisa asks.

“They’re just playing around, last I heard” Jenny says. “Saw them making out in the hall by the band room this morning. Made me want to gag and tell them to get a room instead of trying to make everyone want to gauge their eyes out.”

…

Spring rain was finally letting up which entailed the beginning of actual practice. And yeah, you would think that after everything your friends warned you about, you would do everything you could to stay away from this Hoseok guy, but that wasn’t really plausible, now was it? You, being the student assistant coach for the boys’ tennis team, and Hoseok, being the No. 1 singles player.

You don’t want to sound like a broken record, but you were powerlessly and undeniably fucking doomed.

On day 1 of practice, the coach decided to make everyone play a game as warm up. One in which two teams of 3-4 people line up on opposite sides of the court, playing with only one shared racquet. A person was to hit the ball and then pass the racquet to the next person in line. First team to mess up loses.

You stand behind Hoseok as he hits a forehand and turns to hand you the racquet. There was nothing unusual about the interaction, nothing particularly noteworthy about the motion, and no big deal, that is until he decided to make it one with a very immature comment.

Hoseok takes a step closer to you. “Was I too rough?” You look up at him, swallowing the saliva that had built up in your mouth because of how close his body was to yours. You could practically feel the heat radiating from his chest, which is well worth to point out, was bare, as all the boys had conveniently removed their shirts because it was, quote unquote “too hot”, while you were still wrapped in your hoodie being the type to get cold easily. “Sorry, I’ll be more gentle next time” He winks and runs back in line. The boys behind you burst out in laughter.

Very mature.

“Y/N, why don’t you and Hoseok go play a match on court 1” You hear your coach shout over from the next court over. “Our first meet is this Saturday, and I want you to make sure he’s ready. 

No choice. You had no choice but to do as you were told.

But what you did have control over was showing Hoseok that playing with him was completely against your own will, despite that tiny bit of excitement churning in the pit of your stomach that you were choosing to ignore so you could put on a bitch face and show him you were not going to fall for his antics. 

“Go easy on me ok?” He says after you guys decide who was to serve first.

“As if” You scoff, grabbing the newly opened can of balls away from him and walk to the baseline to begin.

“Yeah, beat him Y/N” Taehyung shouts from the other side of the fence separating back-to-back courts. Taehyung and Jimin were doubles players, partners for life on and off court. They were safe to say, your favorites on the team so far.

Hoseok smirks as he watches you get in the zone, ready to kick his ass, in which 45 minutes later, you do.

“Game, set, match” You shout as you hit a winner straight off his serve.

Hoseok sighs and walks towards the net smiling to shake your hand. You can’t help but notice how large his hand is compared to yours, and how long and slender his fingers are. His grip is firm and when you were about to pull away, he holds his grip a millisecond longer, just enough to notice but not enough to suspect he had mischievous intentions or ulterior motives, if you will.

“Good match” He says, still smiling at you, and for a moment the thought that his smile is seemingly brighter than the sun crossed your mind, but it’s gone the instant you hear the other boys whistling and cheering.

Again. Very mature.

…

The next time you see him, he’s with his friends again. And you were just by yourself, minding your own business while walking to your next class, when you just so happen to run into him with his posse. They sure looked like they were having a good time, joking around and laughing in the hallway. And you think you can get by unnoticed, like Hoseok wouldn’t see you, or at least he’d pretend he didn’t know you while he was with his friends. But no, apparently that’s not how things work in this world.

“Y/N” You hear the familiar voice call just as you were about to make your getaway.

Looking up, you see that annoyingly friendly smile again. One that for some damn reason doesn’t look as douchey when it’s directed towards you, and it dangerously makes you forget the player that he is (in the non-tennis-wise sense), the warning that is written in his preppy attire and jock-like attitude.

“H-hey” You manage to reply but immediately regret as your shaking voice escapes your lips. What the fuck happened to the confident side of you that kicked his ass in tennis the other day?

Hoseok chuckles. “See you at practice” He waves and is off before you can turn your head and watch him walk off with his friends.

At least you didn’t have any classes with him, but there was no way to hide anything from your friends, especially with how fast the latest gossip flew around at your school.

“So what’s up with you and Hoseok?” Jisoo asks as she sits down next to you at the coveted “popular” lunch table.

“Me? Hoseok? Nothing” You say, almost a tad bit hysterically. How the fuck does she know? You sure as hell didn’t tell any of them you were helping coach the boys’ team.

“Namjoon told Jennie that Hoseok’s been talking about you lately” Jisoo continues.

“I heard my name” Jennie says as she walks up to the table, lunch tray in hand.

“We were talking about Hoseok” Jisoo explains. “Y/N, we warned you about him, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. And there’s nothing going on. I beat him in tennis a few days ago. He’s probably just bitter about it.” You shrug, hoping they would just let it go because talking about him made it worse. You didn’t even want to think about him, or be reminded of the way talking about him made you giddy and want to think about him more. Fuck.

“That’s not the story I heard” Jennie raises her eyebrow.

“Story?” Lisa says, rushing over to the table and almost spilling the contents of her tray all over the floor. “I want to hear a story!”

“It’s about Hoseok” Jennie takes a moment to inform Lisa. She then turns back to you. “Namjoon said Hoseok recently cut ties with Seolhyun.”

Rose, Lisa, and Jisoo all gasp at once.

“…and that has to do with me because….” You trail off, praying that you sound skeptical and nonchalant.

“According to what I was told, shit went down like this.” Jennie, puts both of her elbows on the table and takes a deep breathe. “Seolhyun thought she had Hoseok in the palm of her hands. Aka, she assumed they were together. Officially. Which we all know doesn’t apply to Hoseok, but I guess little miss former-almost valedictorian and prom queen thought she was good enough to tie him down. She had told everyone that they were dating. But then just the other day, Hoseok suddenly decided to walk up to Seolhyun to confront her about it, after not caring about the matter for weeks. ” Jennie crosses her arms. “And Hoseok said, quote ‘were we ever a thing?’”.

Jisoo gasps. “He said that to her after every one in the school has already seen them making out in the halls and assumed they were together? Unbelievable.”

“Seolhyun cried didn’t she?” Lisa says with a bored expression. Jennie nods, a fake sympathy conveyed by her sad pout.

“But what does that have to do with me?” You cut in, failing to see your own involvement in this type of high school drama that you swore you never wanted to be a part of.

“It’s simple. It just means he found his next target.” Rose answers.

“And it’s you.” Jennie adds.

…

Normally you wouldn’t get up early on Saturday mornings, but the SAT was in a month, and you had a mock test to complete. You tried not letting your mind wander off as you stared at the long, and might you add, dull paragraph in the critical reading section that was displayed in front of you. It wasn’t a big deal. You had been taking these so-called practiced tests every Saturday for a year now, and luckily have seen steady improvement. It was unlike you to be distracted while reading, especially not to the point where you had to go back and re-read the same section because you weren’t paying attention the first time you skimmed through. This was very alarming. And as much as you tried not to think about “other” things, for the first time in your high school career that just didn’t seem possible no matter how hard you tried.

“It was an unusually difficult section,” You explain as you watch your dad check your answers, only to shake his head every time he marked one wrong.

“And what happens if you get unlucky and face an unusually difficult test?” He asks, looking up at you sternly past his reading glasses.

“I’ll put in extra preparation this month” You assure him, and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as he nods, satisfied with your discipline. 

The boys were playing against their first school this afternoon, and coach was expecting you to go and “cheer them on”. The underlying meaning of it being, review their match playing strategy and figure out what they still needed to work on. Oh, and might you also add that he specifically requested you to “examine” Hoseok’s match because cause quote “the No. 1 singles player is the person who carries the entire team.” 

Again, no choice. But that didn’t change the fact that Hoseok’s match was probably the most exciting to watch because although you had beaten him, he was still the best on the team, and for someone who grew up in a small town with no access to indoor tennis courts, meaning he could only play for half of the year, he was pretty darn good.

You cheer for him, clapping every time he won a point, classic etiquette in tennis, but even if it wasn’t, that burst of a shout after he hit a backhand down the line was not controllable, and you felt your cheeks flush when you realized how loud you were, only emphasized when Hoseok spotted you in the crowd and smirked.

He wins. 6-2 6-3. Easy.

“Can I have your number?” Hoseok asks as he walks towards you and sit down next to you in the grass. You had moved over to check out the other matches going on, trying to avoid him, but again, things just don’t work out the way you want…or do they, because deep down you secretly wanted him to come over and talk to you.

Sure. “No” You force yourself to say.

Hoseok shrugs. “Coach gave it to me already. Told me to hit you up for extra practice this season.”

That motherfu-

“Then why did you even bother to ask? And is he even allowed to do that?” You make an offended face.

“Didn’t want it to feel like you were forced against your will, but it seems that it is.” It was the first time you saw the look of disappointment on his face, but you knew, you fucking knew this was all part of his plan to get you to feel sympathetic. It was just another trick in his bag of goodies.

“You don’t say?” You retort.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to. I just tell coach we’re both too busy with school.” He turns and stares at the courts distantly, and you almost feel guilty about being so cold to him. If you really thought about it, he’s never done anything to you, per se, you’ve just been heavily influenced by third party sources, and it’s unfair to assume based on rumors. Or you were too weak to control your inner desires. Fuck.

“I’ll do it,” You say after a sigh.

“Wait, what?” Hoseok turns and looks at you confused.

“I’ll practice with you” You say, turning to face him, and you think you’re imagining the way his eyes sparkle a little as he registers your words, the way a little twitch of his upturned lip gives away the delight he was trying to contain, and for a momentary pause in time you let yourself return his smile.

…

So you were right about coach screwing you over when he gave your number to Hoseok, because the first time you spoke with him alone, like actually alone, for a good three hours after practicing with him one-on-one, you fell for him… not that your weren’t already slowly slipping into said black hole before that.

And for some unknown reason, you led yourself to believe he wasn’t what everyone made him out to be. And no matter how many times you told yourself you were being a blind idiot, his full body laugh and suggestive smiles tore down whatever barrier you were trying to build between him and your dumb ass.

“You totally could’ve gone pro,” He says as he takes a sip of water from his bottle.

“I didn’t have what it took, mentally or physically.” You say, staring out at the empty park you guys were practicing by.

“Ok, I get the physical part.” He eyes you up and down, while you glance over and scowl at him. “You’re pretty small.”

“Gee, thanks” You mutter.

“What’s the average height for a female professional tennis player? 5’9? 175cm?” He looks at the sky; fluffy clouds drifting over to momentarily cover the sun.

“Yeah” You respond. “Can we not talk about me being short?”

Hoseok chuckles, his perfect smile making another appearance. “Sorry.” He sighs. “So what about the mental part?”

“I’m bad at dealing with my nerves. I choke.” You reply. It was true. Choking during a match is when a player gets so nervous, their legs feel like marshmallows and they can’t perform nearly as well as they should be able to. It’s when you muscles tense up and you make a ton of mistakes you normally shouldn’t, and lose to people you know you’re supposed to beat.

“Hey, we all do that” Hoseok says. “Getting nervous just means you really want to win, and it’s a necessary motivator.”

“Not when it’s an extreme case of the nerves,” You correct, turning towards him. “But whatever, it’s in the past. Tennis isn’t really my thing anymore.”

There’s a short pause and it’s in no way awkward or uncomfortable.

“But you’re still really good. Like really good. I can only imagine how good you were when you really trained intensely. ” He smiles. And you can’t refuse the warmth that spreads through your chest at his comment. It’s been a long time since you’ve heard such kind words about your tennis skills. Not just kind, but sincere words from someone who really understood why you had to give up your dream, a person who knows you’re still amazing even though you didn’t make it, an earnest appreciation for the hard work you put in for so many years. 

You don’t know if that conversation is what led to the events that came after. Namely Hoseok asking you out on a real date and you somehow (or rather predictability at this point) agreeing, him driving you around town and chatting with him while sitting in the passenger seat like some country song, secret flirty glances during all subsequent practices which you thought no one noticed, and even studying together on weekends at the coffee shop by your house.

Snowball effect. That’s what it was. 

You also blame the raging teen hormones.

And on top of that, the infamous “first love”, the one that everyone talks about because it’s exhilarating and unforgettable and unapologetically so. Feelings you never even imagined existed were constantly churning in the pit of your stomach, and even though you knew it was precarious, having been warned of the risk you were taking with someone like him beforehand, you didn’t care. Not when Hoseok held your hand as if he would never let it go, not when he locked his lips with yours as if you were his last love, and certainly not when day in and day out the thought of him was what made you happier than you’ve ever been.

“You’re No. 1 in our class?” He asks, flipping through your test papers all marked with perfect scores.

“Honestly, high school is not that hard” You shrug.

Hoseok’s mouth hangs open in awe. “Teach me your ways,” He says, making a motion to get on his knees and bow down to you.

“Pls” You roll your eyes before laughing.

“You probably get this a lot, but how are you so perfect?” He comments, gazing into your eyes in a way that makes you swallow nervously and your heart pound like crazy.

…

“Just friends?” Jennie huffs, crossing her arms and shaking her head. You had confronted her after the rumors of you and Hoseok dating spread like wildfire.

Not surprising at all.

“Hoseok doesn’t date remember?” You lie, knowing perfectly well that you and Hoseok were most definitely not “just friends”. Especially not when you were planning on having him meet your parents next weekend. Yeah, meeting your parents. The same parents who specifically stated they didn’t want you to date in high school and especially not in the all-important year you were applying to college. But it was getting hard lying to them about where you were going on Friday nights and Saturday afternoons, and it was impossible to explain why someone was now driving you home after tennis practice so you don’t have to take the bus for an hour every day.

“Which is why you need to cut ties with him!” Rose jumps in before Jennie could say anything.

“I think I can handle it guys” You say, trying to quell the annoyance that was building up. You were beginning to hate the way they spoke about Hoseok, about how he’s this douche bag who plays with girls’ hearts, when in reality he’s nothing like that and everyone had just been blinded by nasty rumors.

Of course, it was everyone else who was blind and not you.

“We just don’t want to see you get hurt,” Jennie says, reaching over and caressing your arm when she noticed you were getting a little worked up.

Thinking back, you probably should’ve taken her warning more seriously. But then again, maybe it was good that you didn’t.

It was safe to say that your parents did not like Hoseok. Did not like as in, they’re going to make it blatantly obvious that they disapproved of him more than you failing a test, and that said a lot.

“I’d advise the both of you to stop this nonsense and focus on school.” Your dad had said the moment Hoseok sat down at the dinner table.

“I’m sorry?” Hoseok says, confused as to why a supposed introductory dinner was starting out on such hostile footing.

“Hoseok, was it?” Your dad continues, ignoring the alarmed looks from you. “I heard you play tennis. How are you grades? Do you plan on entering an elite university?”

Hoseok clears his throat. “My grades are average. They’re not stellar, so I’m planning on attending a middle tier school.” He answers, and you can sense the tension in the room, like it was this puff of smoke that was clogging your lungs.

Your dad chuckles. “You are aware of my daughter’s standards, right?”

“I-“ Hoseok begins but is cut off.

“I don’t know how you found the audacity to approach her with your” Pause. “average skills.” He says.

“Dad!” You shout, not being able to believe he was saying this.

Hoseok was containing himself well, you had to give him props for that because god knows how irritated and downright embarrassed he must feel on the inside. And your dad just wouldn’t stop, no matter how much you nudged his leg under the table, the attacking comments just kept coming. 

“Please excuse me” Hoseok says when he finally couldn’t stand the attacks from your dad any longer. He storms out of the house, holding back from starting a real fight because that would’ve led to an even bigger disaster.

You follow after him, but he’s already pulling out his car keys.

“Hoseok!” You shout. “Wait” You grab onto his arm, and he turns around to look at you tenderly. Anger evaporating from his previously tensed expression.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, ok” He says with a weary smile before getting in his car and driving off.

And you think you’re dreaming and the events that went down did not just happen, but you’re tackled by the reality that is a nightmare the moment you walk back in your house. Your dad had left the table, and it was just your mom, cleaning up the untouched food in eerie silence.

“You’re wasting your time with him.” She said, as you willed yourself to hold back the tears that were nipping at your eyes.

“But mom, I can handle school and-“

“I’m not talking about what your father was saying” She interrupts. “I’m purely considering the fact that young love rarely lasts, and he doesn’t look like the kind of person who will stay with you through the storm.”

“How would you know!” You almost shout back, it was the first time you had the audacity to speak to your mom in this way, but the fact that she just labeled Hoseok after knowing him for one dinner made you livid.

“Well, are you the first girl he’s been with?” She asks, voice revealing that she already knew the answer.

No. “I don’t know” You lie. You knew you weren’t.

“Do you believe he will stay faithful to you when you both go off to college?”

I don’t know. “Yes” You murmur, genuinely unsure, so that was technically only half a lie.  

“Honey” She says. “You’re still young, you’ll meet plenty of great people in the future. ”

And you would’ve made an even bigger mistake if you had took her word on that, because we all know the heart will not follow any sort of logic, and fate is not something anyone can decide.

… 

…

“It’s been a while. How have you been?” You say as you watch the familiar, yet unfamiliar figure, pull out a chair and seat himself in front of you.

“10 years. I’ve been decent. Could be worse.” He chuckles. “You?”

“I’m good.” You answer.

“Classic easy way out answer” He grins, and you can still see remnants of the sun in his smiling face, although the fuel that the burning flames had run on had been sucked dry lately.

You find out that he recently found a job in the city, after being unemployed for over 6 months when the marketing company he worked for went bankrupt. It sounded like quite the struggle, but everyone was struggling in today’s economy.

“I got my PhD two years ago, and I’m still a postdoc in my current lab” You explain, trying to sound casual, and summarizing the last 10 years in once succinct sentence. It felt strange knowing the person sitting across from you was once the closest person to you outside of family but now exiled to that awkward place between acquaintance and old friend.

You watch as he nods his head slowly, soaking in the circumstances and most likely feeling the same kind of nostalgic awkwardness that you were. He sighs and takes a cautious sip of his coffee in effort to postpone having to take the lead in this unexpected meeting of sorts.

“Going down the academic professor route?” He queries, raising an eyebrow and curving his lips upward in attempt to lighten the mood like old times.

You chuckle a little. “Honestly, I’m not too sure. I’ve never embraced the thought of being a college professor. Writing proposals all the time for funding and having to be responsible for students who have paid a ton of money for good education.” 

“Ah, right, you’re not too good with pressure.” He nods, understandingly.

And you’re surprised he still remembers.

The Jung Hoseok who you have not spoken to in over 10 years still remembers the first real conversation he had with you that day on the tennis court in the empty park in that small town. That defining moment which lead your two paths to cross, one in which you revealed more of yourself than you had initially intended.  

“How do you like the city?” You ask looking into his eyes that still remind you of so many things you’ve chosen to forget.

“It’s beautiful and exciting. There’s so much to do and it’s so different from the small towns I’m used to.” His eyes glance over at the scenery outside the window, the tall skyscrapers blocking a view that would otherwise go on for miles. “So far I’m liking it, but I don’t know if I’ll be feeling the same after living here long-term.”

“Yeah, it can get hectic. And public transportation is frustrating, especially if you have a long commute to work like me.” You voice, thinking of all the times you cursed at rush hour traffic and the one late night you took the subway after midnight and waited two hours for the train that took it’s sweet ass time.

Small talk.

You weren’t particularly good at it, and it always made you conscious of how awkward you are as a social creature, but you subtly wanted Hoseok to keep you company for as long as possible. Because he’s the one person from your past that you, admittedly, haven’t forgotten despite your not so strong attempts to do so.

It works. For a good hour or so before he finishes his coffee and tells you he needs to head out. You smile and nod, and tell him that it was good to see him, a pleasant encounter that could only be described at fate hard at work again, but you try and not think about it that way because it sounds stupid. Because you don’t know what he’s thinking or if you’ll ever get answers to why things happened the way they did, whether it was for better or worse. You also don’t know if you’ll ever see him again by chance, or if this is actually your last chance to do something. Anything. So thank god you ran out of that coffee shop, summing up every last ounce of courage you had and took matters into your own hands. Closing the distance between two parallel lines with your own strength instead of letting such a destined opportunity pass.

“Hoseok, wait” You call after him, rushing to stop him from not only physically leaving, but leaving the one thing that had been left unresolved for so many years.

He turns, staring perplexedly at your frenzied state.

“I just have one more question.” You say, trying to catch your breath. You bite your bottom lip, maybe it was a mistake to ask, but it’s been long enough right? 

“Why did you do it?” You finally manage to blurt out.

The expression that crossed his face is unreadable. It was a mixture of acceptance, a calmness that almost seemed indifferent and detached, and lingering regret, a pain from an old would that doesn’t go away because a part of your nerves have been scarred. That feeling of being powerless over the things you can’t control, like not being tall enough to be a professional athlete, not being able to see the uncertain future but trying to shape the un-shapeable anyways, or just simple making mistakes because you were young.

…

…

Dating in secret. Or at least that’s what it felt like. It was obvious that no one accepted your relationship. Not your friends and certainly not your parents.

What made it even worse was that this mess you were in, hindered your test performance. You had to re-take the SAT, a fact that made your father very, very unhappy. But for once in your finely tuned life, you didn’t fucking care that your world was gradually crashing down. So what if you didn’t get into your “dream school”? Did that define you as a person? Did that mean you were a failure for life?

You had heard of countless stories where success was not determined by test scores, grades, or what college a person attended. Besides, both Bill Gates and Steve Jobs were drop outs, and look how successful they became. 

It was a new kind of mindset you adopted. One in which compelled you to sneak out to bars with Hoseok at night, get drunk while underage, make love in public places while hidden under the guise of moonlit nights. And it was exhilarating, the way young love, first love, is supposed to be.

Hearing the sound of pebbles hitting your window, you already know who it is. You had been waiting for him, pretending to be asleep when you had told your parents goodnight and rushed up to your bedroom with a stomach full of anticipation. Kicking off your blankets you practically sprint to your window, opening it to the fresh breeze that kisses your face. 

“Ready?” You hear a voice shout lightly from below. You nod, enthusiastically, the same reaction you give him every time he sneaks you out to the bar late at night.

“Where are we going?” You breathe after getting into his car and realizing he’s not taking you the usual route.

“Somewhere I’ve wanted to take you for a while now” He replies, eyes focused on the road and mouth curved upwards in a warm smile. Your eyes trace along the curves of his silhouette, the contours of his figure outlined by the moon and etched in your memory. The way he controls the steering wheel with one arm and rests his other hand gently on your thigh is something you should’ve gotten used to by now, but the way his arm veins bulge with every small movement and the way his fingers dance on your skin never fails to ignite a flame in you.  

Hoseok takes you to an open field, doesn’t sound too appealing at first, but it’s not just any field, it’s a meadow, a field of flowers. And although you can’t see much at night, he insists that the glow of the moon and stars will be enough to see all that you think may be cloaked in darkness.

And he’s right. Or maybe you’re just caught up in the moment because you think you can see fluttering shapes when the wind brushes by, petals dancing in the air, their outline only visible because of the marginally lighter night sky, and the occasional sparkle of fireflies lighting up the black canvas.

He leads you over to a soft patch of grass under a tree, and the you who is normally terrified of the dark, especially in such a remote location feels fearless right then because Jung Hoseok could be leading you to the end of the world and you would gladly follow, no further questions asked. And your young mind chooses to believe that he was all you needed, because the warmth from his hands and the tenderness of his caress makes you wonder how you ever lived without his presence, something that seemed to feel just as important as the fundamental necessities that provided you with life.

When you sit down next to him and lean against his ever so familiar body, he wraps am arm around your shoulder, securing you in his embrace. He looks at you with an endearing gaze, lifting his other arm and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You know I was warned to stay away from you right?” You voice, waiting to see how Hoseok would react to your not-so surprising revelation.

“Yeah, which is why I was shocked you agreed to go out with me.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep, sedative breath. “But would you believe me if I told you that you were my first.”

“So you lied about not being a virgin?” You raise an eyebrow, invisible in the dark but laced in your voice.

Hoseok laughs lightly. “No, not first in that sense.” He clears his throat, taking the time to organize his thoughts; running through his next words in his mind before letting them slip past his lips. “The first girl that made me stop thinking about other girls…the only person that makes me want to better myself…oh god, I suck at this.” He sighs, blushing in embarrassment.

You giggle, reaching an arm up to touch his face, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“Don’t worry, I get it,” You say with a smile, head still rested against his firm, comforting chest.

Hoseok was someone who made you want to choose love over bread because for a fleeting moment in time, you wholeheartedly believed it didn’t matter how shitty everything else in the world was, as long as he was with you, you could create a happiness.

“Hoseok?” You murmur after a long period of silent gazing at the nocturnal landscape.

“Hmm?” He hums, shifting slightly to look at you, who by now has raised your head to gaze at him.

“What do you think will happen to us?” 

He sighs gently. “I wish I knew.” He whispers.

“We can go to the same college.” You suggest, a statement that causes him to fall silent.

“Y/N” Hoseok voices, and it’s hard to identify the emotion entangled in his voice. It’s almost stern, but also weary at the same time. “I could never get into those schools that you’re applying to.” He huffs a silent chuckle.

“That’s ok, I’ll just apply to the schools you’re applying to” You say, almost cheerfully, like you were choosing to ignore how naïve your declaration sounded.

He removes his arm from your shoulder and sits up to look at you, placing his hands on your cheeks and rubbing the soft flesh with his thumb, like he was wiping nonexistent tears from your face.

“No, you’re not going to make sacrifices for me.” He says, still staring into your eyes. “You’re going to get into your dream school, and you’re going to be the successful women you were destined to be.” He smiles faintly. “You’ll fly high in your life, and know that I’ll be cheering you on.”

…

It was no miracle that you did get the acceptance letter from your dream school. Apparently not being able to test well under pressure was exactly what was holding you back from achieving the coveted perfect score on the SAT. And it was all thanks to Hoseok that you were able to rid yourself of that hindrance. It wasn’t just the fact that he changed you in a fundamental way, but he had also continued to help you cope with pressure and the expectation that you had been held up to all your life.

As you had voiced before, high school classes weren’t that hard so your GPA did not suffer at all, even though you were spending half of your free time going on dates with Hoseok, living freely without care despite the weight that continued to rest on your shoulders. It seemed like a win-win, and maybe now your parents would at least attempt to accept him. And you think you’ve finally figured everything out, that everything was now, truly falling into place.

You think. But when have you’re thoughts actually reflected reality correctly?

And then you learn that when your world actually comes crashing down, it doesn’t happen slowly. You can’t see everything falling one by one, the tiles sliding down the walls of your reality giving you time to make a run for it at least. But no, crashing worlds are not that nice to the living, it’s not gradual, it just flashes by, demolished in one single swoop.

It happens when you’re walking down the familiar halls of the school you almost grew to feel comfortable in. The band hall in particular. The one where the Hoseok you knew, diverted from the Hoseok everyone else at the school knew…or so you thought.

“Turn away” You hear Jennie shout before pushing you to face the other direction.

“Why-“ You begin to ask but are cut off by a gasp from Rose and Jisoo.

“Oh no…” Lisa murmurs. 

“Guys, what’s happening?” You question, trying to turn to see but the four of them are intentionally blocking your view.

And then you see it.

“You fucking asshole!” You shout down the hall at the two people making out like they were putting a show on for the world.

The girl turns around; face shocked with fear and quickly runs off as you stomp up to none other than Jung fucking Hoseok.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask through gritted teeth, you were feeling slightly dizzy, partially hoping that maybe, just maybe, this was all a nightmare you would soon wake up from. But it clearly wasn’t, because Hoseok’s grip on your arm is tight enough to cause you to lose circulation as he drags you outside. You attempt to rip your arm away, but he’s too strong.

“Stop making a commotion” He says, almost calmly, like he had all of this planned or some shit.

“EXPLAIN.” You order. “And if you’re going to come up with shitty excuse laced lies, I’m leaving” You spit, crossing your arms and staring him down with a piercing gaze.

And that motherfucker has the nerve, the audacity, to fucking smirk.

“I’m not going to sugar coat any of this. It is exactly what you saw.” Hoseok says nonchalantly. He places his arms on his hips and turns his head to direct his attention to the grass blowing in the field like he didn’t just slap you in the face. “You’re better off without an asshole like me.” He sighs.  

“Stop acting like this is a fucking Korean drama Hoseok!” You scream, tearing rushing down your face hot and angry. “You’re not doing anyone favors here. Hoseok, please…” You reach out and grab his arm, desperately, thinking that maybe he’ll snap out of whatever trance he was in. The robotic look in his eyes was scary and you don’t know why, what, how…there were just too many questions.

“I’m not playing around!” He says, finally letting the anger he was containing make its way to his voice. “Look at you, and me, we- we’re a fucking joke. And I know you’ve known the kind of person I am, don’t fucking pretend you actually believed I was someone different.” He huffs a laugh and it’s almost hysterical. “Y/N, look, I can spit out some fake apology right now, but I’m sure that’s not what you want to hear. Let’s just quietly go our separate ways. Good luck in college.” And that’s the last thing you hear from him as your heart clenches in your chest, limbs going numb, and ears ringing.

You stare as he tears his detached gaze from your puffy eyes, and you almost believe you’re hallucinating when you see the slight falter in his indifferent, heartless verging on cruel, expression. Because his eyelids droop a little, and his bottom lip quivers in a way that makes you want to hug him and tell him you know why he’s doing this and he doesn’t fucking have to, and let’s just forget all this shit happened and pretend we’re still strong enough to stay together no matter what the world decides to throw on us. But it’s just a fleeting thought, one that you don’t have the strength to put in action because you know it would be useless, and you don’t trust your instincts 100%, not when he’s ripping his arm from your grip and disappearing back into the school building.  

And he when he thinks you’re not watching anymore, when he assumes he’s out of sight, Hoseok crumbles, shoulders slumping and hand covering his mouth to muffle his hushed sobs.

Tennis season was over. Graduation was approaching, and you never saw him again, not in the halls, not picking you up to go on a date in town, not knocking on your bedroom window at night even though you foolishly, pathetically waited all summer, unwilling to let go of the fictional possibility that he would maybe, just maybe, come back.

He doesn’t.

Not for the next 10 years at least.

…

…

“I didn’t want to get in the way of your dreams” He replies. Simple, yet complicated because it was something you knew but couldn’t put to rest because it was unconfirmed.  

“So you did do it for me” You whisper, finally realizing you weren’t being delusional in thinking he didn’t cheat on you because he didn’t really love you.

“But I guess if I was really trying to be the hero in all this, I shouldn’t have bothered approaching you in the first place, right?” He forces a smile, but you know him well enough, even if it was the him 10 years ago, to understand that he not only hurt you but himself in the process. “And apparently love is more like talent rather than hard work” He chuckles lightly, looking down at the ground. Talent, something you are born with and don’t have a say in deciding how much of it or what kind you have, and hard work, the part of the path to success that you can regulate. It’s the age-old nature vs. nurture battle, and Hoseok was absolutely right. Love is nature, the talent that is gifted by the heavens, written in the stars. “It’s not something you can control.” 

Walking alongside him for the first time in years, your instincts lead you to Central Park, a gracefully designed natural environment with modern and traditional European architectural elements: a castle by the lake, flower gardens, and grassy fields to layout and bask in the sun. The trees that provided shade made you feel like you were finally alone with Hoseok once again, privately relieving a past you found hard to forget.

He doesn’t voice that he’s sorry, knowing that being sorry doesn’t do anything productive and only induces a sense of pity, but also accepting the fact that he made the decision that he did because he truly believed it was for the best at the time. It’s hard when you’re young and faced with an uncertain future and a relentless environment where people are constantly spewing toxic words and hurtful opinions at you. You get frustrated easily, wanting to make the right choices while at the same time, yearning for your own desires. Hoseok doesn’t know if he would change things if given the chance to go back. He doesn’t know if a slightly more mature version of himself would’ve chosen to avoid such catastrophic events, but one thing’s for sure, he loved you with all his heart, even though he was…young.

“So what happens now?” You ask.

“Since I’m here in the city now, if you want, we can meet up anytime” He responds. 

“Are you subtly asking me out?” You smirk.

“I’m a little rusty.” He sighs. “But yes, I am.” He smiles. “That is, if you want. Otherwise, we can pretend none of this happened.”

“I would love to” You respond soothingly, causing a familiar surprised look to spread across his features.

“I am in no way questioning your decision, but I can’t help but wonder why? A beautiful and successful woman like you should have men kissing the ground you walk on.” His eyes are wide and his lips are slightly parted, a reaction that makes your chest tingle with bursts of endearment.

“Because you remind me of a past I cannot go back to.” You voice matter-of-factly.

“Is that good or bad?” He nervously glances at you.

“I don’t have a clue.” You smile with a sigh. “I just know that to this day, I still clutch on to it as if it was what my life depended on. And I don’t have the desire or the will power to let it go.” You finish with a shrug.

At that Hoseok smiles, a beam that is indeed brighter than the sun, one that hits just the right notes, showing up at just the right time, and you know that this is right, that this is without a doubt unequivocally perfect, because it brings back something you had been missing for a long time.

And for now, you’re going to put off worrying about the future like the people around you keep urging you to do, and instead embrace the return of the kind of recklessness that is so often associated with youth because the man walking next to you right now is leading you in the direction in which your heart faces and for now, you don’t want to have it any other way.

…

[bassclarinetprincess]

I’ve seen like one ask meme full of year-end asks going around, but I didn’t really like the questions on it and also it’s not the one I’ve been doing for the past three years.  So, despite the fact that no one asked for this, here is a wrap-up of 2017!  Answers under the cut, as always.

1. What did you do in 2017 that you had never done before? This year wasn’t as full of exciting firsts as last, but let’s see what I can come up with.  I stayed at a hospital (twice), I visited the state of West Virginia (for spring break), I wore my binder at home, I participated in a Secret Santa gift exchange (three to be exact), I attended group therapy, I got a couple new diagnoses and tried new medications, I met David Sedaris, I saw John and Hank Green, I went to New York City, I tried sangria, I went to a brewery, I went to a film festival, I developed a crush on a boy, I went to a Classics conference, I won an award for a podcast I produced, I spoke at my school’s chapel, and I met Peter Staley.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year? My New Year’s resolution was to make more media than I consume and to Tweet more.  I definitely do not Tweet more, and I’ve been working on the media thing (my job at the school newspaper ensures I do) but I would argue I definitely haven’t upheld that one either.  My only resolution for the next year is to get through graduation, and to find something to do this summer that will enable me to eat/pay rent for an apartment and focus on my mental health.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Nobody I feel super close to, no.

4. Did anyone close to you die? No, thank goodness.

5. What countries did you visit? I stayed in the US of A.

6. What would you like to have in 2018 that you lacked in 2017? Stability.  Peace and quiet.  A brain that remembers to pick up my medication when I need to.

7. What dates from 2017 will remain etched in your memory, and why? January 20 -- Inauguration and the protests surrounding it.  February 18 -- the day I met ACTUP activist Peter Staley at a Chicago art museum.  March 9 -- the day my LGBT alliance’s spring speaker came to campus (and all the ruckus surrounding that).  May 1 -- protests at my school and the class shut-down, and the day I spent so many waking hours in the school newsroom producing a podcast about it.   May 5 -- Dylan’s second birthday, and the day I was admitted to the hospital for the first time.   May 15 -- the Classics department BACCHANALIA, the thought of which got me through my first hospital stay.  June 11 -- the day I began a relationship with my second girlfriend.  June 18 -- the day my second relationship ended (shut up).  June 21 -- the day of my second hospital admittance.  August 19 -- Hannah’s 21st birthday, for which I flew into Chicago (we had a fantastic time).  October 14 -- the day Kit and I visited Stonewall and got Big Gay Ice Cream.  October 20 -- my 22nd birthday dinner, which was an excuse to eat calamari and cake with friends.  October 21 -- the day Hannah, Kit, and me made Halloween cookies and watched Sense8.   October 22 -- the day I saw John and Hank Green.  November 3 -- the day I saw Tegan and Sara for the second time!  November 5 -- the day Kit and I went to a David Sedaris reading.  November 10 -- the day Katie and I saw Hedwig and the Angry Inch.  November 20 -- my chapel talk.  December 23 -- the day I wore my binder to my Grandma’s house and faced my fears! (Yes, most of this is off the top of my head.)

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Being alive, getting all A’s and a B+ for the fall semester, FINISHING all of my coursework for the spring semester and my summer class after the two hospitalizations, giving my incredibly vulnerable chapel talk.

9. What was your biggest failure? Hard to say.  I’m really not proud of the B+, though, since it was a class that I found easy and that I should have blown out of the water.  Oh well. I’m also learning not to consider the hospitalizations a failure.  I might have a few months ago.  But I didn’t go to the hospital because I messed anything up (for example, I was taking all of my medications!  both times!!!), I went because I was sick and couldn’t manage it by myself.  Not my fault.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? I was deeply depressed for six months and low-grade depressed for four more.  So that sucked.

11. What was the best thing you bought? A button-down shirt with cats on it from Wildfang, a green hat with a very wide brim, all the various bath bombs I got, a Tegan and Sara baseball cap, these mussels during my vacation in Portland.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? All the nurses and doctors in the hospital, and my therapists outside the hospital.  My academic adviser for  keeping me on track academically, giving me life advice, and visiting me in the hospital and bringing me books (especially American Gods).  And all my friends, once again, that stuck around in the spring, visited me in the hospital in the summer, and have driven me to therapy in the fall and winter (in no particular order that would be both Josephs, Maggie, Mickey, Katie, Kit, Athena, Emma, Becky, Spencer, Hannah, Ella, Jacob, and everyone else in Aquifer Pod).  Plus my campus pastors for letting me crash in their office when I was dissociating, and for helping me with my confirmation.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled? It’s always our president, isn’t it?  Ajit Pai also goes on the list this year.  And the bastards that murdered a trans girl who lived in my county.  Fuck those assholes.

14. Where did most of your money go? I spent a good chunk of it at the end of the year on film festival entrance fees for the documentary I produced in the fall.  I also did buy way too many bath bombs.  Otherwise, probably food.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Seeing Tegan and Sara, David Sedaris, and Hedwig and the Angry Inch.  Also my birthday!  I was so excited I woke up at 5 in the morning.  Oh, and of course going to New York City!

16. What song will always remind you of 2017? "Feel It Still” -- Portugal. the Man “1-800-273-8255″ -- Logic ft. Alessia Cara and Khalid “Young, Dumb and Broke” -- Khalid “The Cure” -- Lady Gaga “Yet Another Dig” -- Bob the Drag Queen ft. Alaska Thunderfuck “Sissy That Walk” -- RuPaul “Green Light” -- Lorde “I Miss Those Days” -- Bleachers “Praying” -- Kesha “Humble” -- Kendrick Lamar

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: (a) happier or sadder? (b) thinner or fatter? © richer or poorer? a.  DEFINITELY HAPPIER, DEFINITELY HAPPIER. b.  Like twenty pounds fatter.  I don’t want to talk about it. c.  The same, probably?

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? Stayed present and mindful in all my activities.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Sleeping.  There was so much sleeping.  Also self-harming.  I’d have liked less self-harming.

20. How did you spend Christmas? On the 23rd, my grandma hosted the big family ordeal.  We ate food and opened presents, and played this gift card swap game that turned out to be pretty fun.  On Christmas Day, I woke up at 9.  We ate French toast, opened presents, watched Christmas specials and Stranger Things 2, and for dinner Dad made steak and potatoes.

21. Did you fall in love in 2016? Nope.

22. What was your favourite TV program? Bojack Horseman, Please Like Me, Stranger Things, Great British Baking Show, RuPaul’s Drag Race.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? I’m a bit pissed off at the doctor at the hospital when I went in April who said I was seeking attention and didn’t think I was “bad” enough to be admitted.  Fuck him. But I don’t hate him, you know?  I don’t think I hate anyone.

24. What was the best book you read? Columbine by Dave Cullen.  I devoured it in three days.  Also Turtles All the Way Down by John Green.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery? The song “Material Girl” by Madonna!  Also music by drag queens (I’m a fan of Adore Delano, Trixie Mattel, and Bob the Drag Queen). 26. What did you want and get? A shit ton of lavender products, a new audio recorder, a graphic novel called The Fifth Beatle, that zine about mental health featuring a contribution from Sara Quin, fancy Oxford shoes. 

27. What did you want and not get? My family to use my name and pronouns.  *whomp whomp*

28. What was your favourite film of this year? Time to consult the movie list.  New movies:  Moonlight, Get Out, Moana, Rogue One, Fences, Hidden Figures, Spider-Man:  Homecoming, Baby Driver.  Old movies:  The Blue Angel, M, The 400 Blows, Finding Vivian Maier, Matilda (no, I had not seen it before 2017), Paris Is Burning.  (Yes, some of the new movies I have on here were made in 2016.  That’s how my school’s movie theater works.)

29. What one thing made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Friendship, music.

30. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2017? Depression chic.  Lots of gray monochrome outfits.

31. What kept you sane? YouTube and Spotify, mood stabilizers, about thirty mental health professionals, my podmates.

32. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy most? The answer is always Tegan and Sara.  Janelle Monae and Annie Clark are in a battle for second and third.  I’m also really into that video of Tom Holland and Zendaya doing a lip sync battle.  Also, can I put RuPaul on here?

33. What political issue stirred you most? Hoo boy.  This was a very politically stirring year.  I feel like I was often pushed into a box of being only a spokesperson for trans issues, especially when the military ban came about.  I also got pissed about Russian influences on the election, the Roy Moore election, the events in Charlottesville, the attempt to repeal healthcare, Sean Spicer drama, and the Muslim ban.  (This I did not get off the top of my head, I consulted my Twitter.)

34. Who did you miss? For some reason I missed my grandparents a lot this year -- I think it’s because I’m starting to become more and more aware of their mortality, and any moment I’m away from them makes me anxious that they’re going to die.  Also, the death of Tom Petty really got to me.

35. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2017. I feel like I didn’t learn a whole lot.  I learned a lot about myself and how much I can handle, and I learned for sure who is in my corner.  I learned about the importance of faith, at least in my life.  And I learned firsthand through the process of giving my chapel talk how important sharing your story and being vulnerable is.  There’s zero good in keeping secrets and staying silent if you have something to say. Also, like, being alive is pretty OK I guess.

36. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year. "I’ve been on the low, I’ve been taking my time / I feel like I’m out of my mind, it feel like my life ain’t mine” -- “1-800-273-8255,” Logic feat. Alessia Cara and Khalid “Come on motherfucker, you survived, you’ve gotta give yourself a break (hey!)” -- “Everybody Lost Somebody,” Bleachers

TL;DR:  If my life were a book, 2016 would be a chapter where a ton of shit happened to advance the plot while 2017 was the following chapter where it looked kinda stagnant plot-wise but the character’s internal life went from being an absolute mess to -- well, it’s still kind of a mess but he’s doing better at the end of the year than he was in the beginning or the middle.  I’m tempted to write it off as just another year, and in fact a pretty shitty one, but there have been good things too and overall I’d call it a very important year in my development.  I really can’t wait for 2018 though!

Here’s 2016′s.

Same thing for 2015…

And 2014.

Feel free to read others if you want.

[keziacole]

tagged by @bumbleblossoms​ - thank you! 

Tagged Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people.

THE LAST:

1. Drink: Coffeeeeeee

2. Phone call: My partner, just as they left the dentist. :( 3. Text message: Motherbot 2.0 4. Song you listened to: Been Caught Stealing – Jane’s Addiction 5. Time you cried: Uh… some point in the last couple months, I guess? Not sure when, but it was at something related to dogs. Honestly, I did most of my crying last year, during The Year From Hell, and I’m still a bit dried out.

6-92 under the cut. :)

HAVE YOU:

6. Dated someone twice: As in getting back together again? Nooooo. 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: …yup. Often. Sometimes not until a long while later, though!   8. Been cheated on: Not to my knowledge. 9. Lost someone special: Yep. 10. Been depressed:  Eh, I’ve never been diagnosed with depression, so no, I don’t think so. Situationally really fucked off with things? Yes. 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: Once. Story time, everyone! 

So, I generally have a really good alcohol tolerance and a cast iron stomach (not necessarily for good reasons, but hey), but I did once go to a party that ended very badly. I was about 17, had recently been diagnosed with CFS, and was on a heavy painkiller regimen. I drank when I shouldn’t really have done so, because bullshit and All the Emotional Drama, BUT… I did not know that my friend’s asshole brother had spiked my drink. (He was a peach. Gave his 14 year old brother acid once just to point and laugh at the result. Fuckin’ hated that guy.)

At some point in the evening – somewhere after the sham marriages, interpretative dance, and someone putting someone else through a table, because teen parties – I realised I was wayyy more wasted than I should have been, despite the painkillers, and I ended up spending all night hallucinating and throwing up, plus feeling horrific for about three days afterwards. 

Moral of the story: if you spike people’s drinks, you are a gigantic bag of toe lint and should suffer mosquito bites on your asshole for a thousand years. The end.

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12. Purple 13. Red 14. Blue

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: Not yet. Befriend me, tumblr, you’re my only hope.  16. Fallen out of love: No, though I have watched my relationship with at least one family member crumble into dust. Does that count?  17. Laughed until you cried: At least four times a week. Which is one big reason why I’m marrying that motherfucker.  18. Found out someone was talking about you: Yes. See 16. 19. Met someone who changed you: Not yet.  20. Found out who your friends are: Yes, sadly. It sucks when you realise how effectively someone has manipulated the people around you.  21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: Nah, I don’t really do the FB thing. I should, I guess?

GENERAL:

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: See above. I kind of have a profile, but I only use it to message people I’m related to who are freaking obsessed with Facebook and won’t communicate any other way. Ugh. So… most of them? I guess?   23. Do you have any pets: One dog – Hector, a grumpy and elderly terrier - down from two resident mutts and a boatload of fosters. Older dog died last year, and I’m not in a position to foster right now, which sucks, because I miss having a house full of beasties, not to mention making a difference. 24. Do you want to change your name: Already have done/am doing! I have no real interest in keeping up with more than 80% of the people I’m related to, and I never liked my birth name, plus this is easier to spell and dictate to people, and isn’t known by the abusive assholes in my life. So, yay! 25. What did you do for your last birthday: Ordered pizza and watched favourite movies with my partner. We did The Blues Brothers and shit-talked the progression of police militarisation in the US over the past 30 years, and it was incredibly fun, despite the fact we’re 3000 miles apart right now. Also, they remembered my birthday, which is more than can be said for over two-thirds of the people I’m related to.  26. What time did you wake up: 9am, but in my defence I was up until 3 last night. 

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: Talking shit with my partner, knitting an afghan, and watching foster kitten cams and reviews of awful movies together, because these are good ways to help someone who has a dental appointment in the morning try to stay calm. 28. Name something you can’t wait for: Getting my current backlog of work finished. Sooo clooose…. Promised myself a movie and gaming binge when I’m done. 29. When was the last time you saw your mom: Last week. 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: Either having enough money to fix all my problems (yes, in this case, money most certainly can do that), or just being on the same continent as my partner, so we didn’t have this immigration thing to worry about. Not having a debilitating illness that fucks everything up would be pretty awesome, too.  31. What are you listening right now: Freddie King 32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yep, many Toms. All the Toms. Well, like, five plus. 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: Not knowing whether or not the electrician is going to show up tomorrow, which will mean I need to move the paintings and quilt top I currently have all over the sitting room floor. I’m not done piecing that thing yet. Grr. 34. Most visited website: Lots. Mostly Google, Politico, Reuters etc., but I’m living on eBay right now because I’m trying to sell off a bunch of DVDs, books, and vintage glassware. …Does anyone want to buy some vintage/antique glassware? 35. Mole/s: Yep. I had one removed from my back once. Turned out to be benign (phew!) but I got an interesting scar out of it. 36. Mark/s: I still have a faint surgery scar on my elbow, but it doesn’t look as Frankenstein-y now. Most of my scars have faded, but I still have some weird idiosyncrasies from things that have been broken or busted up. 37. Childhood dream: Writing was always my main thing, but also acting/directing. Illness took that away. Other than that, I always wanted to live somewhere rural with lots of animals, and be happy.  39. Long or short hair: Long. Lots. It’s huge. Send help. I like both on other people.  40. Do you have a crush on someone: Not right now. Give me ten minutes and a new Fet profile to stalk and I’ll get back to you... 41. What do you like about yourself: I’m a creative dynamo and I don’t stop until I fall down. I’m also proud of the fact that I’m a pretty compassionate and patient person, and I like the fact I’m slow to really anger. Someone told me recently I’m a very stabilising influence, and that was nice to hear. I feel like life can use more of that.  42. Piercings: Ears (two left, three right), nose (left). More on the way, maybe, when I can justify it.  43. Blood type: ???? I should check. I know the NHS won’t let me donate blood because of my medical condition, which blows.  44. Nickname: Zia. Some people call me Kez. One person is allowed to call me Admiral Fuckface McAsshole III.  45. Relationship status: Open relationship with my primary partner, technically speaking. Poly is good, but my planner is too cluttered for anarchy.  46. Zodiac: Aries w/ Aquarius moon, Virgo ascendant. I also have Mars and Venus in Taurus, so mooooo. And yes, I did used to do natal charts for beer money. I read palms, too. I’d still do it if asked nicely.  47. Pronouns: They/She. I don’t mind feminine pronouns, because I’m incredibly cis-passing and most people will assume “she”, plus I can live with being labelled female if it’s a binary choice, but I see myself more as a person than a gender, so I love that neutral pronouns are being used so much more now.

FWIW, I considered whether or not I was trans for a hot minute when I was a younger teen, because I used to love passing as a boy when I was a kid (until puberty at nine. Boo.), but for me it was the difference in how I was treated when I passed as male that mattered. It was the difference between “Oh, isn’t he confident and intelligent?” and “Hello, sweetie, don’t you look pretty today?” that affected me, not a real sense of dysphoria, so I decided the problem wasn’t really in how I presented, but in society itself. I have yet to really find a satisfying way of rectifying that, but I think we’re all making progress as a society. It’s very slow progress, sadly.   

48. Favorite TV Show: I don’t watch that many series, but Star Trek (especially TOS and DS9), X-Files (S1/S2), Game of Thrones, old mystery adaptations (all the Agatha Christie ever), Stranger Things, Better Call Saul, Breaking Bad… can’t think of anything else right now, but there are some. 49. Tattoos: One black and grey dotwork spiral goddess on my arm, next one coming soon (watch this space, now I’ve found an artist!) 50. Right or left hand: Ambidextrous. Yes, I can write with both hands. Sometimes, I switch in the middle of the sentence. No, it doesn’t look the same. I can also operate light switches with my toes from a standing position.  51. Surgery: I fucked up my ulnar nerve a couple of years ago by blacking out and falling on some stairs. It was melodramatic, and I lost the use of my left hand. Had surgery to correct it. I was awake but a bit sedated, and spent most of the time talking to the cute anaesthetist about chastity cages. Because... sedated? Yes. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Sadly, he did not call, though I’m pretty sure he did a lot of googling when he got home that night.  52. Hair dyed in different color: Always, since I discovered Olaplex, which means I can actually bleach my hair without it completely frying. Most recently, I’ve had a mermaid fantasy in turquoise, green, and purple, but it’s faded a lot. Not sure what I’ll do next. Maybe orange, or neon yellow again. 53. Sport: I can’t do much without turning blue and blacking out, but I’ve always enjoyed tennis, badminton, swimming, and equestrian stuff. Is hiking a sport? Hiking’s fun.  54. Do you use sarcasm a lot: Um... 

55. Vacation: Last one was to see my partner; next one will be too. So, the woods of NEPA. Hiking out with some granola and my favourite human, and spending a few days playing with shelter pitbulls. <3 Otherwise, I’ve never really been on holiday. I went on a school trip to Germany once where I nearly got arrested and, when I was seven, I went to Malta and there was a hurricane. I remember wedging wet towels into the window frames and hoping we didn’t die, because we were on the twelfth floor and there was nowhere else to go. 

I did go to Norfolk with my mother for four days after her breast cancer diagnosis. Macmillan, a cancer charity that is very worthy of support, granted her a short break. There was a lot of playing dominos and trying to convince her she wasn’t actively dying at that precise moment.

56. Pair of trainers: Converse. All the ratty old Converse low tops in the world. 

MORE GENERAL:

57. Eating: I have the house to myself right now. It’s awesome. I’m celebrating with homemade shiitake tofu stir fry, wontons, vegetable udon… and doughnuts. Not in the same bowl, though. 58. Drinking: Rum. 

59. I’m about to: Finish a short story, close out an editing project, format a print galley (again. Goddamnit, Adobe.), and try to finalise the running order of a poetry collection. Maybe send some emails, maybe eat the rest of those wontons.   61. Waiting for: The dizziness to go away, usually. 62. Want: The time, space, peace and quiet to focus on my work, and my health to cooperate long enough for that to happen. 63. Get married: As soon as possible, which basically means when we can afford it, because immigration, legal wrangling, and a ton of other bullshit. It’s a headache, but if there weren’t so many technical hurdles it would already be done.  64. Career: I write and make stuff. I’m doing it under a new name now, which is daunting, because it means starting over again, but I’ve spent the past few years doing a lot of genre fiction and being told my original work is “too original”… but I’m ready to say “fuck you” to that and see what I can carve out for myself. Come on, internet: don’t prove me wrong, ‘k? 65. Hugs or kisses: Ooh, tough. Yes? I guess hugs if I have to pick.   66. Lips or eyes: Eyes. 67. Shorter or taller: I honestly don’t care, though I do very much enjoy short subs. Pocket rockets are adorable. 68. Older or younger: It really doesn’t matter. 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: Arms, I guess? Doesn’t really matter. It’s all pretty to look at, but who really cares? Arms are best for hugs. 71. Sensitive or loud: Sensitive. I don’t like too loud. 72. Hook up or relationship: Define the terms, yo. I’d say relationship, but the definition of “relationship” can be open to numerous things. 73. Troublemaker or hesitant: Um… possibly a bit of both, but more hesitant, probably.

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a stranger: No. 75. Drank hard liquor: Yup.

76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: I once dropped a contact lens down the back of a gas fire and spent three hours getting it out with Vaseline on a paperclip. My vision is awful and I wore very expensive gas permeable lenses at the time. 77. Turned someone down: Yup. 78. Sex on the first date: Nothing wrong with it (and nothing wrong with sex being the date), but it’s not for me. 79. Broken someone’s heart: So they said. 80. Had your heart broken: Yes, but not how you might assume. 81. Been arrested: Nope. 82. Cried when someone died: Yep. 83. Fallen for a friend: A couple of times, with varying degrees of success.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. Yourself: I try to, because few other people often do. (*the world’s tiniest violin plays*) 85. Miracles: Yes, sometimes in the form of coincidences, surprises, or the results of hard work. I believe in inverse miracles, too, when things go catastrophically wrong for no apparent reason. Or, as we call it at my house, Tuesday. 86. Love at first sight: Yes, in a way. Potential for love at first sight, I guess? I’ve usually found I know the moment I meet someone whether that’s a thing that’s going to happen or not. 87. Santa Claus: YES, DAMN IT. Okay, maybe not a literal dude in a red suit, but as a personification of the generous spirit of Non-Denominational-Winter-Solstice-and-Festival-of-Lights, he works. (I’m an eclectic neo-pagan/hedgewitch, but my most loved time of year is the whole October-February period, so I start celebrating Yule/Christmas around December 1st and don’t stop until Twelfth Night. I will take ALL of your symbolism, ALL your traditions, and – most importantly – ALL your festive foods and embrace them. In my belly. Thank you.)

88. Kiss on the first date: Probably. Unless it’s a baaaaad first date. 89. Angels: Again, not so much the literal sense, but it’d be nice to think there are positive presences looking out for us. I’d be very concerned about the serpent-like pillars of fire, though.  

OTHER:

90. Current best friends name: Aside from my dog, that’s my partner but they don’t like their details shared, so SHHHH IT’S A SECRET. 91. Eye color: grey-blue-thing 92. Favorite movie: You can’t just ask a person that at the end of the thing like it’s a simple question…! So. Many. Movies. Depends on the genre. The Blues Brothers, Priscilla: Queen of the Desert, Gattaca, Silence of the Lambs, Re-Animator, Die Hard, Stand By Me, Sleepaway Camp, Alien, Lady in a Cage, Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead, TRHPS, The Great Escape… those are movies I can watch a billion times (and have done). Honorable mentions, depending on my mood, go to things like Basket Case, Caramel, An American Werewolf in London, Exterminating Angel, Secretary, Gran Torino… I could have done 92 questions just on the most popularist movies I like!

tagging: I’ve been away for a few days and I don’t wanna tag people who’ve already done it, so if you’re reading this and want to do it, consider yourself tagged! <3