#just. god. hate the individuals responsible not whole fucking countries. please

[frogeyedape]

I'm tired of seeing antisemitism on my dash, in all its subtle forms. War is an atrocity, and Israel is not unique in that. Where is the outrage against Russia's ongoing genocide of Ukrainians? What about China's genocide of Uyghurs? What of all the other atrocities being committed around the world? Why is there *so much attention* devoted to hating Israel and seeking, not an end to the conflict, but the end of Israel? Is it just that they're a little country, an easy target to potentially dismantle, compared to the big fish of Russia and China?

Keep calling out the atrocities, by all means, but for the love of humanity maybe broaden your targets and reduce your own genocidal wishes?

Any ideology that says: "They did horrible things so 'they' [the group they belong to] all deserve to die horribly" is an evil one.

[qqueenofhades]

Do you really hate this county? Or were you just ranting?

Sigh. I debated whether or not to answer this, since I usually keep the real-life/politics/depressing current events to a relative minimum on this blog, except when I really can't avoid ranting about it. But I have some things to get off my chest, it seems, and you did ask. So.

The thing is, any American with a single modicum of genuine historical consciousness knows that despite all the triumphalist mythology about Pulling Up By Our Bootstraps and the American Dream and etc, this country was founded and built on the massive and systematic exploitation and extermination of Black and Indigenous people. And now, when we are barely (400 years later!!!) getting to a point of acknowledging that in a widespread way, oh my god the screaming. I'm so sick of the American right wing I could spit for so many reasons, not least of which is the increasingly reductive and reactive attempts to put the genie back in the bottle and set up hysterical boogeymen about how Teaching Your Children Critical Race Theory is the end of all things. They have forfeited all pretense of being a real governing party; remember how their only platform at the 2020 RNC was "support whatever Trump says?" They have devolved to the point where the cruelty IS the point, to everyone who doesn't fit the nakedly white supremacist mold. They don't have anything to do aside from attempt to usher in actual, literal, dictionary-definition-of-fascism and sponsor armed revolts against the peaceful transfer of power.

That is fucking exhausting to be aware of all the time, especially with the knowledge that if we miss a single election cycle -- which is exceptionally easy to do with the way the Democratic electorate needs to be wooed and courted and herded like cats every single time, rather than just getting their asses to the polls and voting to keep Nazis out of office -- they will be right back in power again. If Manchin and Sinema don't get over their poseur pearl-clutching and either nuke the filibuster or carve out an exception for voting rights, the John Lewis Voting Rights Act is never going to get passed, no matter how many boilerplate appeals the Democratic leadership makes on Twitter. In which case, the 2022 midterms are going to give us Kevin McCarthy, Speaker of the House (I threw up in my mouth a little typing that) and right back to the Mitch McConnell Obstruction Power Hour in the Senate. The Online Left (TM) will then blame the Democrats for not doing more to stop them. These are, of course, the same people who refused to vote for Hillary Clinton out of precious moral purity reasons in 2016, handed the election to Trump, and now like to complain when the Trump-stacked Supreme Court reliably churns out terrible decisions. Gee, it's almost like elections have consequences!!

Aside from my exasperation with the death-cult right-wing fascists and the Online Left (TM), I am sick and tired of how forty years of "trickle-down" Reaganomics has created a world where billionaires can just fly to space for the fun of it, while the rest of America (and the world) is even more sick, poor, overheated, economically deprived, and unable to survive the biggest public health crisis in a century, even if half the elected leadership wasn't actively trying to sabotage it. Did you know that half of American workers can't even afford a one-bedroom apartment? Plus the obvious scandal that is race relations, health care, paid leave, the education system (or lack thereof), etc etc. I'm so tired of this America Is The Greatest Country in the World mindless jingoistic catchphrasing. We are an empire in the late stages of collapse and it's not going to be pretty for anyone. We have been poisoned on sociopathic-libertarian-selfishness-disguised-as-Freedom ideology for so long that that's all there is left. We have become a country of idiots who believe everything their idiot friends post on social media, but in a very real sense, it's not directly those individuals' fault. How could they, when they have been very deliberately cultivated into that mindset and stripped of critical thinking skills, to serve a noxious combination of money, power, and ideology?

I am tired of the fact that I have become so drained of empathy that when I see news about more people who refused to get the vaccine predictably dying of COVID, my reaction is "eh, whatever, they kind of deserved it." I KNOW that is not a good mindset to have, and I am doing my best to maintain my personal attempts to be kind to those I meet and to do my small part to make the world better. I know these are human beings who believed what they were told by people that they (for whatever reason) thought knew better than them, and that they are part of someone's family, they had loved ones, etc. But I just can't summon up the will to give a single damn about them (I'm keeping a bingo card of right-wing anti-vax radio hosts who die of COVID and every time it's like, "Alexa, play Another One Bites The Dust.") The course that the pandemic took in 21st-century America was not preordained or inevitable. It was (and continues to be) drastically mismanaged for cynical political reasons, and the legacy of the Former Guy continues to poison any attempts to bring it under control or convince people to get a goddamn vaccine. We now have over 100,000 patients hospitalized with COVID across the country -- more than last summer, when the vaccines weren't available.

I have been open about my fury about the devaluation of the humanities and other critical thinking skills, about the fact that as an academic in this field, my chances of getting a full-time job for which I have trained extensively and acquired a specialist PhD are... very low. I am tired of the fact that Americans have been encouraged to believe whatever bullshit they fucking please, regardless of whether it is remotely true, and told that any attempt to correct them is "anti-freedom." I am tired of how little the education system functions in a useful way at all -- not necessarily due to the fault of teachers, who have to work with what they're given, and who are basically heroes struggling stubbornly along in a profession that actively hates them, but because of relentless under-funding, political interference, and furious attempts, as discussed above, to keep white America safely in the dark about its actual history. I am tired of the fact that grade school education basically relies on passing the right standardized tests, the end. I am tired of the implication that the truth is too scary or "un-American" to handle. I am tired. Tired.

I know as well that "America" is not synonymous in all cases with "capitalist imperialist white-supremacist corporate death cult." This is still the most diverse country in the world. "America" is not just rich white middle-aged Republicans. "America" involves a ton of people of color, women, LGBTQ people, Muslims, Jews, Christians of good will (I have a whole other rant on how American Christianity as a whole has yielded all pretense of being any sort of a principled moral opposition), white allies, etc etc. all trying to make a better world. The blue, highly vaccinated, Biden-winning states and counties are leading the economic recovery and enacting all kinds of progressive-wishlist dream policies. We DID get rid of the Orange One via the electoral process and avert fascism at the ballot box, which is almost unheard-of, historically speaking. But because, as also discussed above, certain elements of the Democratic electorate need to fall in love with a candidate every single time or threaten to withhold their vote to punish the rest of the country for not being Progressive Enough, these gains are constantly fragile and at risk of being undone in the next electoral cycle. Yes, the existing system is a crock of shit. But it's what we've got right now, and the other alternative is open fascism, which we all got a terrifying taste of over the last four years. I don't know about you, but I really don't want to go back.

So... I don't know. I don't know if that stacks up to hate. I do hate almost everything about what this country currently is, structurally speaking, but I recognize that is not identical with the many people who still live here and are trying to do their best, including my friends, family, and myself. I am exhausted by the fact that as an older millennial, I am expected to survive multiple cataclysmic economic crashes, a planet that is literally boiling alive, a barely functional political system run on black cash, lies, and xenophobia, a total lack of critical thinking skills, renewed assaults on women/queer people/POC/etc, and somehow feel like I'm confident or prepared for the future. Not all these problems are only America's fault alone. The West as a whole bears huge responsibility for the current clusterfuck that the world is in, for many reasons, and so do some non-Western countries. But there is no denying that many of these problems have ultimate American roots. See how the ongoing fad for right-wing authoritarian strongmen around the world has them modeling themselves openly on Trump (like Brazil's lunatic president, Jair Bolsonaro, who talks all the time about how Trump is his political role model). See what's going on in Afghanistan right now. Etc. etc.

Anyway. I am very, very tired. There you have it.

[anime-academix]

Natural Hair

A/N: Ah, here’s my first scenario! This was actually a lot longer than I thought it would be...but you know, it is what it is. I’m still relatively new to writing these so I hope you all enjoy these and I will be doing my best! This scenario was kind of personal...and to all my black girls out there who have gone through this, please know that our hair is beautiful; no matter what anyone says, we are beautiful and unique! Anywho, enjoy this scenario! (DON’T FORGET TO MESSAGE ME IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS, I WILL TRY MY BEST TO GET TO THEM AS SOON AS I CAN ❤️)

Bakugo:

Though you loved wearing your protective hairstyles, you were insecure about your natural hair. However, growing up in Japan, you were all too familiar with the beauty standards in the country, especially when it came to hair. It was always difficult to find hair products to match your hair texture--that in which you almost always had to order them from international stores-- not to mention the random strangers who were always touching your hair, and some students would poking fun at it.

To Bakugo, he had no idea you were insecure about your hair, because it was something you never brought up. Truth be told, the boy loved your hair. He always found it fascinating to watch you do your hair in the dorm on weekend nights. Even everytime you came to school with a new hairstyle, Bakugo would always find a way to compliment your hair, always adding that you were beautiful.

It was very rare that you wore your natural afro to school, but today, you wanted to try something different.

You poofed up your afro a few more times before adjusting your uniform. A small smile appeared on your lips, impressed with your hair’s ability to cooperate this morning. The last time you had worn your afro natural was this past summer when your grandparents came to visit, but then it was only for the weekend.

A loud knock could be heard at your door.

“Hey, hurry your ass up! Just ‘cause we live on campus doesn’t mean we can take our time to get to class,” Bakugo said on the other side of your door. You rolled your eyes and grabbed your backpack, putting your arms through the loops. Walking over to the door, you paused and felt your cheeks heat up. This would be the first time he would be seeing you wear your natural hair to school.

What if he hated it? Or thought it was goofy looking? You thought to yourself before pausing and shaking your head. You turned the knob to your door, pulling it open to reveal your spiky haired boyfriend. He was leaning against the door frame when you opened the door.

His eyes widen at your sudden change of appearance. “Holy shit,” he breathed out. It caught you off guard and you felt your face heat up even more. “It’s something different, I just wanted to try this style...oh god, do you not like it?” You began ranting, before you could finish he tsked.

“Hey, don't speak for me,” he growled, lifting himself from off the door frame. “You look beautiful. I always love seeing the many things you can do with your hair,” Bakugo told you, snaking his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

Call it cheesy or whatever, but you couldn't help the flood of butterflies that invaded your stomach at his sweet words. “Suki...” you said softly, looking at him.

“But if you tell anybody I told you that, I’ll kill you,” he defended, removing his arm from around your waist and fitting his hand in yours as you both head off to class.

----------------------------------------------------------

By the time you got into your homeroom class, all of Class 1A was gawking in awe at your hair. Your other classmates were practically toppling over each other to get a closer look at your hair, some even asking if they could touch your afro. 

“Girl, your hair has so much volume! Did you try that new curl cream? See, I told you, you gotta get rid of that Cantu stuff and your hair will thank you!” Mina squeaked. Bakugo looked at you then at Mina with an obvious look of confusion written on her face. 

“It looks so soft!” Ochaco commented.

“It’s so pretty! How long does it take for you to get that style?” Momo questioned, placing her hands on her hips. Others nodding in agreement with Momo’s question.

You smiled at your classmates, blinking at the sudden bombardment of comments and questions. 

Bakugo scoffed and leaned against your chair. “Alright. Back up you damn nerds,” He muttered, shooing them away. Bakugo began heading back to his seat, sneaking in a wink which made you blush. 

There was an unanimous “awe” as they all began to disperse. All except for one. Mineta. 

“Why are you all so obsessed with her hair? I mean come on, it just looks...what the word...oh! Nappy...” Mineta announced, which caused you to stiffen. Everyone paused and exchanged uncomfortable glances at each other. “I’m serious, guys! It looks so distracting and messy.” 

“Dude, stop it,” Kaminari interjected.

He stepped closer to you and pressed his hand into your hair, grabbing a handful of curls. “But hey, it’s okay. Your hair may be ugly, but at least it doesn't distract me from your nice rack,” he added, smirking. 

Before anyone could even respond, there was a low rumble filling the room. The students all stiffened, and turned their attention to the source of the noise. It was none other than your boyfriend. He had gotten up from his seat, walking towards your desk, setting off small explosions in his hands. His face was painted with a never before seen look of anger, rage pooling his eyes. It was enough to send goosebumps down your spine.

“You want to fucking say that again, you waste of space?” Bakugo challenged through gritted teeth.

“Hey! You two, we cannot resort to violence! Let’s sit down and talk this out!” Iida offered. Bless his heart for his attempts but it would be rendered useless. The ash-blond spiky haired boy, hated Mineta deeply. He hated the sexual comments he made about you and even suggestive gestures in front of you. There were several times where he’s gotten close to sending Mineta to the emergency room, but you and Mr. Aizawa always came in just in time to put a stop to it. Calming down Bakugo was like trying to stop an already erupting volcano. 

Mineta released his grasp from your hair and begin backing up, fear reeking his whole body. “I...uh...heh...it was...” He stuttered.

“Katsuki...no, leave it alone, it’s fine,” you told him, standing up from your seat.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m not gonna send him to a funeral home...I’d think, it’s been a while since you’ve visited Recovery Girl, HUH?!” He growled, lunging towards him which evoked a loud scream from Mineta.

“Katsuki, no!” You yelled, stepping in front of him quickly. You pressed your hands against his chest and attempted to hold him back. “Please, just leave it alone. Don’t start anything, please...for me?” You said softly, moving your hand to rest on his arm, then eventually down to his hand.

He would be lying if he said that your voice and even touch alone didn’t calm him down. You’re one of the rare individuals in his life who can pull him out of rage fit and even a soon to be crime scene, and this time was no different.

His eyes stared into yours as you watched the rage in his eyes dissipate and his tense body loosen. You offered him a small smile, giving his hands a soft squeeze, receiving a growl in response. He pulled his hand from yours with a huff and went back to his seat.

You turned to Iida who mouthed a relieved ‘Thank You’ then turned your eyes to Mineta who was standing there engulfed in fear and...pee? Oh my...the boy peed himself, you thought in disbelief as you sat back down in your chair.

----------------------------------------------------------

Walking back to the school dorm, your head was full of thoughts. Throughout the school day, you’d be lying if you said what Mineta said didn't bother you. You knew his words out of everyone should matter the least, but you couldn't help but ponder on those words: Nappy, Distracting, Ugly. Ugh, it was like primary school all over again. How could you forget all those days when the other students would make fun of your hair, sticking school supplies in your afro and even grabbing your hair when you asked them to stop. And of course all the boys you had crushes on but they turned you down because they thought your hair was too ugly and weird. 

What if Bakugo actually thought the same thing? That your hair was ugly and messy and he was just trying his best to be nice about it. You thought to yourself.

By the time you reached your dorm room, you had tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You turned the knob, pushing open the door. As soon as the door closed, locking it behind you, you dropped down to your knees, letting the tears fall down your cheeks. Broken sobs left your lips as you doubled over on the ground. 

Truly, you didn’t understand. Why people would waste their time bullying someone because of their differences--and even something they cannot change. You didn’t have straight hair like Tsuyu and Ochaco. You didn’t have luscious hair like Momo and manageable hair is Mina. You hated the fact that you had much thicker hair which took you hours to just wash and detangle. You hated that your hair would shrink when you washed it. Truth be told, you couldn’t help but think that maybe Bakugo hated the fact that he couldn’t run his fingers through your hair when you cuddled late at night. 

You had finally gotten the strength to stand to your feet, tossing your book bag aside and taking off your shoes. You collapsed on your bed, attempting to silence your sobs into your pillow. You had thought you had done a pretty decent job being quiet until you heard a faint knock on your door. Immediately, your breathing hitched. Oh no...who is that? Did they hear me? You thought to yourself. Slowly, you lifted your head from your pillow and turned to the door. As useless as it probably was going to turn out, you decided you try to remain quiet in hopes that whoever knocked would just walk away.

Despite your hopes, the person knocked again. “Y/N...it’s me...will you please let me in.” Instantly, you recognized that voice. It belonged to your boyfriend, Bakugo. Oh no...okay, he couldn't have heard me crying. Shit, what if he did? He’s gonna ask why I’m crying...If I tell him, he’d probably think I’m being stupid and--

“I know you’re in there, Y/N. Just open the damn door! Please...” He added pulling you from your thoughts, knocking again. There was a brief moment of silence and stillness. You heard him let out a sigh.

“Please...did I do something?” he questioned, a slight pang could be heard in his voice. “If I did, I’m sorry...will you please let me in so we can talk.” His fist unraveled as he pressed his palm against the door. Truth be told, Bakugo had no idea what he had done. He tried to think back to the past couple of days to see if there was something he said that caused you to cry. It couldn't have been the usual banter between the two of you because you could tell when it was all just jokes and he knew when not to cross the line. 

Your heart broke hearing his words. It wasn't him, not at all. How were you going to tell him it was because of your hair. He’d laugh at you and think you were being childish. But he didn’t deserve to be shut out. A soft sigh left your lips as you pushed yourself off the bed and headed to the door. You unlocked it and opened it just slightly. He pushed open the door and before you could react, he engulfed you in his arms. You were completely taken by surprise.

Bakugo closed the door behind him with his foot before pulling away, his hands remaining on your shoulders. Concern washed over his face seeing the current state you were in. Your eyes were red, dried tear stains streaked down your puffy face. “Y/N...” He started. “It’s not you, Bakugo,” You choked out, feeling the tears cloud your vision yet again. In a blink of a moment, his face softened as he wiped away a tear that had fallen with his thumb.

“Then why are you crying?” He asked softly. Your eyes shifted down as you remained silent. You couldn’t help but chuckle in your head because it was humorous almost. Bakugo was always so loud and aggressive around other people but it’s moments like these when you got to see this softer side of him. 

He took note of your silence and scowled slightly. “Why aren’t you telling me what’s going on? Did I hurt you?” He paused and dropped his hands immediately. “Do you not trust me, Y/N?” He questioned, not missing the slight crack in his voice.

You shook your head, as your eyes remained glued down to the floor. “No, Katsuki. I do trust you...it’s just...” A sigh left your lips as you hugged yourself. “If you trust me then tell me what’s going on. We promised not to hide things from each other!”

“I can’t...” You whispered. “What?!” He argued back, both of you knowing full well he heard you. “I said I can’t, Katsuki!” You said, raising your voice. His brow furrowed at the use of his full name coming from your mouth. You rarely called him Katsuki. Whenever you did, it would indicate that you were serious. He hated hearing you call him that. Yes, that was his name, but even if he didn’t admit it, it always warmed his heart when you called him pet names, especially Suki. 

“That’s not my name, dammit! And why the hell not?!” Bakugo yelled back. 

“Because it’s stupid! I’m sitting in my room crying because I think my hair is ugly and a fucking mess and I don’t have luscious beautiful hair like all those other girls in this school! I c-can’t...just wake up in the morning, brush my hair and go out looking beautiful! I have to...to...go through fucking hell just to look presentable, every single day, just to be dragged down and treated like shit because my hair texture is different! Do you know how many days I came home and cried to my mom because the kids in my class would bully me because of my hair?! God, I sound so stupid!” By now you were crying your heart out. As your sobs filled the room, you pressed your palms onto your eyes, crying into your hands. 

Bakugo said nothing in response. He had no idea you felt this way about your hair. If anything, he was obsessed with your hair and impressed with the many things you could do with it. He truly believed that your hair added to your beauty. His heart broke seeing your fragile state. In this moment, he didn’t care how he looked, he didn’t waste another second and wrapped his arms around you. Once you felt his embrace, you collapsed your weight into his body and he held onto you, eventually dropping to the floor, holding you close against his chest, pressing a few soft kisses in your hair.

After a while, you finally calmed down, sniffling and playing with the cuff of his sleeve. “You’re such a dumbass, you know?” Bakugo finally said. You were taken by surprise. “Because you convinced yourself that you sound stupid telling me about your problems. How many times have I told you that you can always come to me to talk about what you’re going, no matter how big or small.” He said to you as he continued to rock you in his arms. “And how many times do I have to tell you that you are beautiful. Your hair is beautiful and everyone else’s shitty opinion is stupid and irrelevant. I don’t care that you don’t have stupid straight hair, I love YOUR curls, Y/N. I love that you go to sleep wearing your bonnet at night and that you contribute so much time to take care of your hair and can do all those fancy smiles. I’d take your hair texture over anyone else’s in a heartbeat and I want you to always remember that. You’re no match for those damn extras out there, ya hear?” 

You looked up to meet his eyes which were already on you, nodding softly in response. “Good. And if you ever feel like that again, you better come to me and talk about it. I know you can handle your own, but if any of these damn nerds are making fun of you, you come tell me and I’ll deal with them.” He growled. You stared up at him, smiling. Oh you were so in love with this boy. 

“What?” Bakugo questioned. Your smile turned into a grin before you pressed a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you, Suki,’ you said softly. A faint blush painted his cheeks as he tsked, “Yeah, yeah.” He smirked slightly and took the opportunity to kiss your lips before pulling away.

“I’m still gonna kill that damn grape,” he muttered. “Hey, no no. It’s fine. I’ll deal with him. Plus...you already made him wet himself. This is the third time this month, give him a break, love. If he says something, I’ll handle it.” Bakugo scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Tch. Fine. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop watching his and everyone else’s every move,” He told you.

“Oh, I’m counting on it. But for now, cuddles, please” you pouted, shifting to wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he tightened his grip around you before standing up to his feet and walking the two of you over to your bed. 

[i-like-5sos]

No Idea [Malum Fic]

PAIRING: Calum Hood x Michael Clifford

WORD COUNT: 6428 

WARNINGS: Drinking, swearing, and just some angst 

SUMMARY: After moving across the country to escape the heartache that high school brings and to begin his first year at University, Michael finds himself face to face with the very person that caused his heartbreak: Calum Hood. 

A/N: This was made specifically for Mandie for The Club Fic Gift Exchange ! It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written any mxm BUT I’ve missed it and can’t wait to start writing more (if you have any suggestions on how to improve please send them my way, I’ll take all the help I can get).

Fifteen minutes late. I’m fifteen minutes late to my first class as a University student. Great.

I burst out through the doors of the residency building, almost crashing into some blonde girl who’s face leaves my memory as quickly as it entered, and run as fast as I can across the campus to The Arts building. Thankfully I listened to Mom’s advice and looked up a map of the school last night or I’d be fucked right now. Musical Theory. Monday, 8AM. Room 102: Arts Building. I check the room number on my schedule twice before taking a deep breath and opening the door to my classroom.

The door opens to the back of the room and multiple heads spin around to face me. I can feel my face getting hot as I try to disappear into myself and search for a place to sit down. As to be expected, almost every table in the room is full and there’s nowhere to sit… Unless I want to join one of the tables of three and converse in small talk with a group of people that obviously don’t want me to sit with them- and let’s be clear; I don’t want to do that.

I almost settle for a table with two girls seated at it, but then notice the table in the front of the room with only one person there. Thank god. I head toward the dark-haired boy at the table and quietly sit across from him. He doesn’t react as I sit down, his head buried in his folded arms on the table.

I would normally never be caught dead at the front of the room, but here I am, sitting so close to the professor that I can smell his cheap cologne, having to share a table with some random guy who is probably going to hate me for ruining his table of solitude.  

As the class continues, I do my best to follow along with the PowerPoint slides on my screen while also trying to focus on what the professor is saying at the front of the room, but I can’t help but glance over to the brunette across from me every chance I get. His head hasn’t left his arms since I’ve sat down, and I’m pretty sure he’s asleep… Maybe I should wake him up. Maybe he’s dead. I begin to picture what would happen if my classmate had died sitting across from me. Would I have to talk to the police? Would I be a suspect? Am I obligated to go to his funeral and give a speech? What would I even say? What if-

“You will have two months to complete this project and it will be worth thirty percent of your final grade. Get to work.”

I turn to face the Professor, and I realize that I may have zoned out for the entire explanation of a project that’s worth almost a third of my final grade… awesome.

Letting out a sigh, I turn back to read through the notes on my screen and, of course, none of them have anything to do with a huge project. There is no way I am going to ask the professor to repeat everything he’d just said.

As my classmates begin to talk amongst themselves about the project that I know nothing about, I glance over to the boy across from me that may or may not be dead and decide that now’s a good a time as any to find out.

“Hey” I say quietly.

No response.

I repeat myself a little louder, “Hey… Uh, my name’s Michael.”

No response again.

“Dude, seriously?” I huff, before picking up my biggest textbook and dropping it onto the table.

It worked! His head shoots up and I notice the headphones in his ears. That explains a lot. I also notice that the boy I’ve been watching all morning sitting across from me is the same boy I’d spent the majority of my high school years watching from across the room. Calum Hood. I haven’t seen him since our high school graduation last June, but he looks about the same. Same dark hair, same brown eyes, same three moles on his cheek, same annoyed and confused look on his face- oh no wait that’s new.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He glares at me as he rips the headphones out of his ears.

“I thought you were dead or asleep or something.” I shrug before changing the topic, “I didn’t know you got accepted here.”

“Well, obviously I’m not dead, and if I was sleeping, that was a cruel way to get me to wake up... Remind me never to have you actually wake me up.” He places his headphones into his backpack before continuing. “And um, yeah, I was torn between a few different universities but settled on the one farthest from home… Looks like you did the same?”

I nod and chuckle softly. “Yeah. Fuck that place.”

“How pop punk of you.” He laughs, and it brings me back to being fifteen and pathetically swooning over that very sound, never being the one to have caused it. If only fifteen-year-old me could see me now.

Grounding myself, I quickly try to think of something that isn’t completely embarrassing, and remember the mysterious project that I know mothing about.

“So… did you catch anything the prof was saying about this project worth thirty percent of our grade… cause I might have zoned out the whole time...”

He looks confused for a moment, before directing his attention to his laptop.

“I can’t blame you for not paying attention. Five minutes into his lecture I stopped listening to him and started listing to my music instead. Figured I could just read the Power Point later tonight.” He types something before continuing, “I looked through the material on the class page before the lecture started and I think I saw something about a group project that was worth thirty percent… let me just… Okay yeah, here it is.” He turns his laptop to face me, pointing at the assignment on the screen and showing me how her got there.

I quickly follow his instructions to the page and begin reading about the assignment. It’s a group project for 2-3 people about how emotions and feelings are portrayed through song. We’re all supposed to draw an emotion from the professor -that explains why people keep getting up to talk to him- and write an essay about a song that has made us feel this way. Once we finish our essays, we’re supposed to go back to our partners and make a playlist of 25 songs that combines each the emotions we were individually assigned and talk about how easily these emotions can be portrayed in music. Seems simple enough… Except for the whole partner part.

I look up from my computer screen, and before I can talk myself out of it, I ask Calum if he’d like to partner up for the project. To my surprise, he agrees and before I know it, I’m looking down at the paper I had pulled out of the tin can on my professor’s desk. Longing. What kind of lame-ass emotion is longing? I sit back down at our table and show Calum my paper.

“Longing? That’s going to be so easy to write about! And it’ll go great with love. This is going to be a piece of cake.” He enthusiastically, typing away on his laptop.

“You got love? Are you kidding me? That’s such bullshit. Every song is about love… or sex… or drugs, and I don’t think sex or drugs are emotions… so like that’s not fair.” I look back at my small slip of paper, “How am I even supposed to write about longing?”

He breaks away from his typing long enough to look at me, “Longing is so easy to write about. Haven’t you ever wanted something you couldn’t have? Or missed someone or something like that?”

“I don’t know… maybe.” I pause for a moment, “I don’t know.”

He looks back to his screen and continues to type. “Okay, I looked up the word longing and it says here that ‘Longing is mainly a blend of the primary emotions of love or happiness and sadness or depression’. So there. You can focus on one of those four. It’s not that hard, Michael.”

Hearing Calum say my name takes me back for another brief moment. Even though we went to the same school for four years, I never really knew if he had known my name or not… we never really talked or hung out in the same crowds, so I figured it was safe to assume he didn’t even know I existed.

He shakes his head and looks at his screen again as I try to avoid the thoughts of how smooth my name rolled off his tongue that are currently running wild in my head, to focus on what he had said about the different ways longing could be portrayed and experienced.

Just as I begin to reflect on the last few years of my life for a moment that could stand out as ‘experiencing longing’, I’m interrupted by the sounds of my classmates packing up their belongings. I look to my left and notice Calum suddenly standing next to me.

“Here,” he says, handing me a sticky note with a phone number on it. “text me so we can meet up to work on the project.”

“I uh- thanks.” I stumble over my words as I take the paper from him and stick it to the inside of my laptop.

When I turn back to Calum, he’s already on his way to the door. I quickly pack up my books and pause for a moment to look at the sticky note before shutting my laptop, ignoring the heat on my face and the feeling in my stomach.

. . .

I feel like I may have stepped into an alternate dimension when I entered that classroom two weeks ago, because I’ve somehow found myself in the Calum Hood’s dorm room. By choice. His choice. Who would have thought?

To be honest, I’m kind of surprised at how easily we get along. We both have the same taste in music, the same sense of humor, and the same hobbies. Who knew we were so similar? Had we actually spoken to one another in high school, there would have been no stopping a friendship from forming.

Since texting him the day after our class, we’ve pretty much been inseparable. So, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that I’m hanging out with Calum in his dorm room… but I kind of am.

“Okay seriously, Calum. How do you already have four pages written out for your essay?” I ask, scrolling through the Word document open on his laptop.

“It’s like you said, love is easy to write about… You know what else is easy to write about?” He spins around on his desk chair, taking a break from his game to face me. “Longing. Have you even started your essay, or were you just planning on taking me down with you when you flunk out?”

I set the laptop down next to me on his bed. “The only one flunking out here is your team in Fifa.”

“That was a shit insult and you know it.”

“You’re a shit insult.”

He shakes his head and laughs. “Mate, for real. Do you need help writing your part?”

“No. I told you, I’ll be fine. I just need some inspiration… Which is what I should have gotten from your essay but the whole damn thing is about your family. It is so boring! Where’s the drama? Weren’t you a ladies’ man in high school? Where’s that Calum?”

With his eyebrows raised he looks taken aback for a moment and bursts out laughing.

“Did you seriously just call fourteen-year-old me a ‘ladies’ man’?” He asks, making air quotes at the last part.

I shrug and he continues laughing.

“Okay fine, you have a point. But like... what even is longing?”

His laughter softens and he rolls his eyes, smiling at me.

“Do you need me to pull up the definition again?”

“Fuck off.” I huff.

“Okay, fine… What about like, leaving town to come here. Didn’t you miss your girlfriend? Or your friends? Or maybe your family?”

“Girlfriend?” I laugh loudly. There’s no way he’s serious right now… “No. Absolutely no girlfriend. As for my family? I honestly couldn’t be happier to be on my own and out of the house... Also, it’s kind of hard to miss your friends when facetime exists.” I lay back on his bed and prop myself up with my elbow. “What else ya got?”

“Okay lone wolf… what about uh… okay I’ve got it. What about longing for like… touch, or affection, or love, or… fucking I don’t know, food?”

“Yeah, cause I’ll definitely get an A writing my essay about craving a Big Mac. Maybe I can get extra credit if I bring one in.”

He glares at me and rolls his eyes again before shaking his head and turning around to focus his attention back to his game. I drop my head onto his pillow and sigh. Watching him play, my mind wanders as I being to think about his words. Touch. Affection. Love. My heart aches for the poor fifteen-year-old boy I once was, longing for those exact things for over a year and never getting them. I remember the emotional shut down I forced myself to do to move on from the brown-eyed boy that occupied my mind daily. I sigh deeply, taking in the musky scent of the room around me, and as much as I don’t want to admit it, I finally know what I’ll be writing about.

. . .

“Are you sure you know where this party is? I’m pretty sure we’re lost.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure they said it’s in this neighborhood… there should be a street coming up soon that starts with an S… or maybe it was a B. Whatever. We’ll start to see people on the street sooner or later and follow the noise to the right house.”

Calum and I continue to walk aimlessly down the suburban streets with houses that all look the same, in search for a party that I’m not even sure exists at this point.

“You’d think, for someone that probably went to every high school party, you’d know to write down an address when it’s given to you.” I grumble as my feet begin to ache.

“You know, you make a lot of assumptions about what I was like in high school. Weren’t you ever told not to assume?” He says, bumping his shoulder against mine.

“You’re really going to tell me that you never went to any parties in high school? I seriously doubt that.”

“Okay… Well, yeah I went to some parties. Didn’t everyone though?”

“What? No.” I scoff. “Dude, not everyone was invited to parties like Mr. Cool Guy over here.”

“Am I supposed to be Mr. Cool Guy? That’s a laugh.”

“Mate. Just admit it. You were one of the cool kids and you know it.” I bump my shoulder back against his.

“Was not.”

“You were to! Everyone knew who you were. Everyone wanted to either date you or be you. You can’t be that oblivious.” I kick a small pebble as we cross yet another unidentifiable street.

“Date me or be me huh? Did you want to be me?”

Fucking hell. Why am I still allowed to have the ability to speak without a filter?

“No.” I focus my gaze on the cracks in the sidewalk, making sure to avoid any possible eye contact.

It’s quiet for a moment as a car drives past us, filling the silence before Calum speaks again.

“Well, you obviously didn’t want to date me. So, your theory is clearly wrong.”

I walk beside him silently as I debate whether to admitting to the fact that I had the biggest crush on him for over a year when we were younger.

“See, I’m right.”

“I did though.” I choke out before I’m able to stop myself. Fuck.

“What?” He stops walking.

Well, this was fun while it lasted… I wonder if our professor will still let me join another group, seeing as Calum isn’t going to want to talk to me ever again.

May as well finish the job then.

“I did want to date you.” I confess softly as I stop in front of him, keeping my eyes on the ground.

“You’re not... gay though.”

I- What? He’s got to be kidding me right now. I’m pretty sure everyone in high school knew I was gay. Hell, I came out to my parents in the fifth grade.

“Are you fucking with me? Calum.” I finally gain the courage to meet my eyes with his and see him shaking his head. “I’m gay as fuck. Always have been.”

“No way. What about Jessica Hunter?”

We’re awkwardly standing in the middle of the sidewalk and I’m completely over-aware of the man walking his dog across the street as Calum continues to stare at me with a dumbstruck look on his face. Well, at least he hasn’t left yet.

“What about Jessica? She and I hang out from time to time and listen to music together. We’re friends.” Oh god. “Wait- are you thinking that her and I? Oh god. Never.” I shake my head to try and get that image out of it.

“No no... She was in love with you! The way she always talked about you, hung around you, and hung off you… You went to Prom together! You were the reason I never even had a chance with her. I spent so many hours thinking about you and why she chose you over me and I…” he tampers off and continues to look utterly confused.

Am I being Punked right now? There must be a hidden camera somewhere. This can’t be real.

“No Calum. Oh my god. Mate. Jessica and I were always together talking about you. She didn’t want me. She wanted you… We both did. We only went to Prom together cause she was still hung up on you and didn’t have the guts to ask you herself. Plus, you did that whole stag Prom thing with Timothy Anderson anyway.”

He continues to stand there, trying to piece together the story he had so wrongly created around himself.

“So… You’re gay.”

“Yup.”

“And you actually used to … like me?”

“Yup”

“And Jessica-“

“Never had a chance with me. Because I’m gay and she had the hots for you anyway… Are we all caught up? Can we please keep walking? I’m getting cold.”

“Man, did I have this whole thing wrong or what…” He shakes his head and starts walking again.

We continue heading to the party that totally doesn’t exist and get about half a block away from where we had previously stopped before Calum stops walking again.

“Dude! Seriously?” I sigh deeply and stop a few feet in front of him.

“You don’t uh… still have feeling for me or anything. Do you?”

“Yes Calum. I’m completely head over heels for you and plan to propose to you when we get to the party in front of everyone.” His mouth drops and I roll my eyes. “Fuck off. No. Cal, I don’t still have feelings for you. That was years ago. Now can we please keep walking? I’m going to fucking die of hypothermia.”

“Okay… you’re right. Sorry.” He mutters, clearly embarrassed and continues to walk again.

At least I’m not the only one that’s embarrassed.

We walk silently for a few minutes and I feel his fingertips brush against mine and my heart flutters softly. Shit.

. . .

“Are you even listening to me Mike?”

I look up from my phone to see Calum glaring at me. He burst into my dorm room about 45 minutes ago insisting we practice our presentation for the millionth time since he finished his essay. Of course, mine’s not finished yet, but at least I have something to write about now. But, without mine to practice, he’s just been reading his on a loop – I personally think he’s trying to annoy me to death. Jokes on him though, he’s got a nice voice.

“I can only hear your essay so many times before my brain starts to block it out to preserve my sanity.”

“You wouldn’t have to hear it so much if we had something else to practice… like, I don’t know- maybe your easy perhaps?”

How subtle. Ever since he finished his essay (overachiever much?), he’s been on my ass about mine. Even if I actually had it finished, there’s no way in Hell I’ll be letting him see this – let alone hear me read it out loud – until I have to.

“Dude. I’ve told you like eighty times now. I hate presenting stuff. I’m not doing it any more than I have to. Being in front of everyone, having them all stare at me- judging me? Fuck that. Once is enough. I don’t need you judging me too.”

“You honestly think I’m going to judge you? I don’t buy it. You’re Michael Clifford. You don’t give a shit about what other people think about you.”

I can’t help but laugh out loud. If only he knew.

“Well, when I’m putting myself out there in front of a whole room of people then yeah, I’m going to give a shit about what they think.”

“Putting yourself out there? Mate, it’s an essay. You sure you’re not just making up excuses to cover up the fact that you haven’t started writing it yet?”

Calum runs his finger through his hair, and I try not to stare. Why did he have to come to my school again, be in my class again, make my heart ache again. I feel like this time is worse. Being this close, not being able to touch him in the ways I want. Is this some horrible karma for complaining about longing? I shake my head at the joke that I call my love life and push past it like I always do.

“Maybe, but I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

He throws a pillow at me and tells me to shut up before beginning to read his presentation yet again.

. . .

As I approach Calum’s door, I look down at the folded mess of papers in my hands and decide to quickly shove them into my backpack to make sure he doesn’t try to take them and read my shitty essay beforehand.

I pull my bag off my back and drop to my knees to put the papers away. I finish zipping it up and throw it over my shoulder as I hear the door open in front of me. I look up and see an eye full of Calum’s junk. My eyes widen and I can feel my cheeks heat up as I quickly look away and stand up. I try not to look at his face and pray that my cheeks aren’t as red as they feel.

“At least buy me dinner first. Damn.” He laughs. The sound melts my worries away. Mostly.

“Fuck off. We’re going to be late.” I give him a shove and begin walking to the exit.

Walking with one another to our classes has become a part of our daily routine. Calum decided so about a month ago when he found out that I tripped and scrapped my elbow and knee open like a child while running to make it on time for one of my 8AM classes. So now he seems to think that I can’t manage walking to class by myself. I mean, I’m not complaining. I’ll take any time that I can get with him until inevitably ruin the best friendship I’ve ever had.

As we walk, Calum is -of course- rehearsing his presentation again. I sigh and think about the essay sitting in my bag and how he’s going to react to hearing it. Maybe he’ll just drop the class and ghost me. God that will hurt... Maybe I should just fake sick, or say I never finished my part of the project, or-

My spiraling thoughts are cut short by Calum opening the classroom door and I admit defeat. The two of us sit at our table still -sadly- located at the front of the room. As we sit down, I watch Calum pull out his papers and read them over as if he didn’t just prove that he’s got it memorized by reciting it on our walk over. I set up my laptop and shove my papers under it, quickly checking back to Calum to make sure he hasn’t noticed. I exhale softly and wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans before opening our Spotify playlist, preparing it for our presentation.

A dread-filed hour and a half passes as I listen to the other groups make their presentations and read through their playlists to try and distract myself.

“Group seven, you’re up.”

My blood goes cold and I feel like I can’t move. I feel Calum swiftly kick my shin under the table.

“That’s us. Get up.” He whispers

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I want to be back at home in my bed. I don’t want this. I don’t want to lose my friend. Why did I have to take this class? Why couldn’t I have been assigned anger. Why didn’t I just sit with those two girls that first day?

“Mike, it’ll be okay. I’ll be up there with you the whole time.” That’s half the problem, Calum.

I sigh deeply and open my eyes. They stay glued to the table as I pick up my laptop and the messy pile of papers underneath it. I walk slowly behind Calum to the front of the room and stop at the podium. I quickly plug my laptop into the screen behind us as he introduces the both of us to the class and begins to talk about the emotions we were assigned before launching into how they relate to one another and briefly talking about our playlist. I feel slightly reassured as he begins to recite the speech that I pretty much have memorized myself at this point. I allow myself to zone out to the sound of his voice as I wait for my cue.

“… and to me that is what love is to me. Family.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I rub my sweaty palms on my jeans again and pick up my papers with trembling hands. Closing my eyes again, I take another deep breath and open them once finished. Here goes everything.

“I- um- I’m Michael and I uh… I was assigned the emotion longing. When I first read the small paper and saw I had longing, I was confused and upset that my partner had such an easy emotion to talk about and I um… I had something as complex as longing…” I look over to Calum and he gives me a reassuring smile and my heart skips a beat. “Until he helped me realize that longing is pretty much the universal emotion. It branches into every emotion you can think of. It powers them and really brings the depth to them. Once I had realized this, the only issue I had was choosing which emotional experience to talk about. This itself seemed to be an impossible choice, so I’ve decided to talk about an experience that, like longing, incorporates every emotion. Heartbreak. My chosen song for this was No Idea by All Time Low. Song number…” I quickly look over at our playlist and count the sounds out to make sure I’m right before continuing, “seven on our playlist.”

I press play and I continue over the quiet music, telling the story of a young Michael who was in love with a boy that never knew he existed. A boy who broke his heart without ever even speaking to him. A boy who he was still desperately in love with, years later. A never-ending tale of longing.

Once the longest five minutes of my life had passed, I quickly unplug my laptop and hurry back to our table, avoiding eye contact with Calum the entire way back. I grab my books and shove them along with my laptop and essay into my bag. I damage my papers even more by doing so, but I could care less.

Throwing my backpack over my shoulder, I leave the room as I hear Calum call out after me. There’s no way he’ll catch up to me. Besides, my Sound Tech class was cancelled today, so even if he does manage to catch up, I won’t be there.

I finally make it back to my room without encountering Calum and I toss my bag onto my chair and dive face first into my bed to wait out the impending consequences for ambushing my best friend in the middle of a room full of people. Why did I do that. Fuck me.

. . . 

Calum had been planning a party over the last few weeks to celebrate us finishing our project. I had told him time and time again that ‘finishing a project’ is the lamest reason to throw a party. But yet, here I am, in my room surrounded by the pulsating beats of music blasting down the dorm hall.

I’ve managed to avoid Calum for the past four days since the most embarrassing moment of my life. He’s tried texting and calling me too many times to count, and he even showed up to my dorm room twice. I, of course, pretended to be asleep both times.

So, I know it has to be Calum banging repeatedly on my door, throwing off the steady beats of music.

“Mike, it’s Calum. Can I come in?” I hear him shout through the door over the music.

I get up and turn the light off before returning to my desk to continue trying to focus on the game on my computer and pretending I’m not here.

“Mate! I saw you turn your light off! Michael! Open the door!”

The banging persists and my head sinks lower and lower into my shoulders. Go away. Please. I don’t want to hurt. Not tonight. Please.

“I’m not leaving! Maybe I’ll just ask one of those art kids for a sculpting knife and cut your door down! HA! You couldn’t avoid me if I did that! You wouldn’t even have a door to lock!” He slurs half of his words and it’s becoming clear that he’s drunk, and drunk Calum doesn’t quit.

I drop my head onto the desk and breathe deeply for a minute, listening to him yell at me through the door, before getting up and walking over to the sound. I pause there for a moment and prepare for the worst.

As soon as I open the door, Calum falls backwards onto my floor. How in the Hell…

“What do you want Calum? I’m busy.”

He stumbles back to his feet, swaying softly while he regains his balance in the centre of my dark room.

“You’re busy? You’re busy. That’s why you’ve been avoiding me for a week? Cause you’re busy?! Fuck off Michael.”

I say nothing as I lean against my open door, waiting for him to get this over with, so I can shut it behind him and go back to my self-loathing.

“Answer me!”

Clearly the silent treatment isn’t working here. I glance at the hallway full of people, some who have begun to stare at the two of us. I grit my teeth and shut the door, letting the darkness engulf my room, leaving only the light of my computer screen allowing us to see one another as we stand together in the center of the room.

“What the Hell do you want me to say?!”

“Well for starters, how about you tell me why the fuck you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been-“

“Fuck off. You have, and you know it. Now tell me why.”

I shake my head and adjust my weight from foot to foot, shrugging to come up with an excuse.

“Oh. My. God. You’re impossible!” He pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath before I watch his posture soften. “Is this about what you said in your essay?”

I go stiff and remind myself to breathe.

“I knew it! At first, I didn’t think that was it, but it fucking was! Why are you avoiding me? Do you think I’m against your sexuality or some shit? Is that why you won’t talk to me? Cause that’s not true! You never even asked me about what I thought about it. About your feelings for me. How I would feel. About my feelings for- about your sexuality. Your sexuality, yeah... You just never asked me.” His face reddens at the last part, probably from lack of air after that speech.

I listen as he drunkenly rambles at me and try to think of something to say. How can he be right? He can’t be. I shouldn’t have to explain myself or my sexuality to him. Why would it matter what he thought about my sexuality?

“Your opinion of my sexuality isn’t needed Calum.” I say, shaking my head.

He sighs harshly and rubs his temples before stomping his foot. Did he actually just stop his foot? Is he five?

“Michael. That’s not what I’m saying! Listen to me! You’re so busy thinking about yourself and your feelings that you’re missing the bigger picture! You’re not the only person in this situation!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Calum. I’m so sorry my feelings were an inconvenience for you! You wanna talk about it? Let’s talk about it! Have my feelings for you ruined your college experience? Have my feelings for you kept you up every night? Have my feelings for you broken your heart?!”

He is silent for a moment before closing his eyes. His body sways softly as he runs his hands through his hair.

“No-” He sighs deeply before replying quietly, “your feelings for me didn’t do any of those things to me. Mine did.”

He opens his eyes and the light of the computer screen highlights the beautiful features of his skin as his words sink into mine.

I stand there with my jaw dropped, staring at the man in front of me. Did he just say… No. No. This is a sick joke. I feel a lump form in my throat begin to form.

“That’s not funny Calum.” I choke out softly.

“I’m not joking.”

“You’re straight.”

“I’m not! I’m Bisexual.” His cheeks redden softly in the pale blue light.

I stare at him in disbelief. He’s got to be drunk out of his mind to lie like this.

“You’re straight.” I repeat in an attempt to both reassure myself and convince him to stop the lies.

He runs his hands through his hair again and lets out an exasperated groan.

“Michael! Fuck! Why won’t you ever listen! I like you! I’ve been trying to tell you ever since you came out to me on the way to that shitty party. I only stopped myself cause you said you didn’t have feelings for me anymore. I’m bisexual Michael! Why do you think I went to Prom with Timothy?”

“That- that was just a stag thing…”

“I wasn’t ready to come out yet. Neither was he.”

He takes a step closer to me, making me overly aware of how small my dorm room actually is. I can smell his cologne and the alcohol -tequila? Yeah, tequila- wafting off him as the space between our bodies lessens.

“So, you’re… bisexual?”

The relief is visible as it washes over him. He smiles softly and takes another step towards me.

“And you… uh… you like me?”

“You wanna talk about it?” He whispers as his eyes drop to my lips.

“Calum, I-”

Before I can finish whatever stupid thing I was going to say, I feel his hands grab my face and his lips crash into mine. I close my eyes and return the kiss. My hands find their way into his hair as he pushes his body against mine. His hand leaves my cheek and finds its way up the back of my shirt, pulling my body impossibly closer to his.

This is more than I’ve ever dreamt of. Calum Hood. Calum Hood kissing me. His hair is softer than I could have ever imagined. I can taste the tequila on his tongue as it slips ever so slightly in between my lips and I suddenly remember how drunk he is. It takes every part of me to pull away and break the kiss.

“Calum. You’re drunk. I can’t.”

“I can.” He steps towards me with a slightly needy expression in his eyes.

“Calum.” I repeat sternly and step away, my back pressing against the door.

He lets out a defeated sigh as he turns around and walks over to the drawer where I keep my snacks.

“Do you have any bread?”

“I- uh… what?... Maybe, why?”

“I want to sober up so you’ll kiss me again.”

I laugh softly and walk over to help him look.

. . .

I wake up to the feeling of something heavy laying across my face. As I open my eyes and adjust my sights to the room around me, I realize the heavy thing on my face is actually Calum’s arm. The events of last night come back to me like a hurricane. Calum arriving at my dorm room drunk, Calum coming out to me as bisexual and confessing his feelings for me… Calum kissing me, and finally, Calum falling asleep beside me while waiting to sober up… I would say it was a dream, but I now have a red, arm-shaped mark on my face to prove otherwise.

I peel his arm off my head and his eyes shoot open, making me jump a little. I watch as he looks around the room and stops once his eyes meet mine. He smiles sweetly at me.

“Hi.” He says, his voice deep and raspy from just waking up.

“Hey there.” I whisper back.

“Guess what.”

“What.”

He smirks at me as his hand finds its way to my cheek and his body shifts towards mine.

“I think I’m finally sober.”

I exhale as my body relaxes from the tension and worry I didn’t realize I had about last night. I chew on my bottom lip as I wait for him to do something.

His eyes explore my face before slowing down at my lips just as they did last night. He blinks slowly and as his eyes open, I find them looking into mine again. He smiles softly as he closes them once more and leans forward, connecting his lips to mine. His pillowy lips kiss mine softly for the best minute of my life, and when he pulls away, he takes my breath with him. I am utterly awestruck by his beauty and the feeling of his lips on mine.

“How about you and I go on to dinner later and get to know the real us? No more assumptions and no more secrets.”

I nod and smile widely.

“I thought you’d never ask.” I agree as he grins before kissing me again.

[leroiloup]

「    this is a total, 100% “woe-is-me” negativity post, so be warned. I try not to post anything too personal or emotional on this blog, but the truth is, I need an outlet right now. I don’t have a personal tumblr anymore, and tbh, I don’t really want to put this on FB where all my IRL friends would see it. I’m putting this under a read more so y’all can scroll on by and not worry about it. But also, it’s here, so it ain’t a secret. If you want to watch a train wreck, read on.

» » » The moral of this story is going to be that for the next couple of days, I’m gonna be less present on the dash, and just tending to my drafts ( along with developing my OC more because he brings me joy rn ).

Wow, you clicked the Read More. Aren’t you a sick fuck ? Just kidding, you’re my kind of people. I hope your popcorn is ready. If are you continuing, I’d like to give you some disclaimers : literally none of the following is directed at any one individual or group of individuals. There is not an ounce of guilt that’s meant to be transferred. This is 100% my own bullshit as I’m dealing with me. I’m going to complain about RP, but please keep that in mind ; this is all about my own insecurities.

To start, everyone is dealing with a lot right now, let’s not have any delusions about that. Shit in general fucking blows. Personally speaking, I don’t like talking about my emotions or the things truly bothering me. I guarantee that if I ever whine about something, then there’s something much deeper that’s effecting me. As of right now, I’ve identified both : the surface issue that I’m taking my frustrations out on, and the deeper problems that’s the root of what’s going on.

So let’s start with the the deep shit, shall we ? This’ll give better insight as to why I’m struggling mentally with RP at the moment. I’m the kind of person IRL that’s a loner. I’m in my 30′s, but I’ve never had a serious relationship in my life. I don’t have a lot of friends ( but I do have a couple of really good ones ). I tend to just deal with shit on my own. I live alone, I take care of myself. And honestly, all of that is ok because there’s something magical that I have had : my career. I moved to the other side of the country at a young age by myself with one goal, and that was to edit film trailers. And goddamn it, in April 2019, I DID IT ! I mean, I’ve been in that industry since day 1, climbing the ladder, but last April, I was promoted to editor. It was the greatest feeling in the world. I still had a long way to go to prove myself, but I felt like my whole life was worth it for the place that I made it to. Well, this past March ( yes, just 2 weeks shy of my 1st year mark as an editor ) I was laid off due to COVID. Now, I’ve gotten a couple of odd editing jobs here and there, but I’m floundering. I suddenly can’t pay my bills, I can’t even buy proper groceries, but worst of all ? I just sit around all day. Alone. In my apartment. With no sense of direction or purpose. I feel like I lost a whole part of myself ; like I lost who I am as a human being. It’s this terrible, downward spiral of feeling like I don’t even exist anymore. Like who am I without the one thing I identified myself as ? Do I even matter anymore ? My friends are still working, but I’m.... not. I may not have been the pretty one, the witty one, the interesting one, or the loved one, but goddamnit, I was the independent one. I didn’t live a glamorous life, but I have a sweet apartment in a great area all by myself, and traveled, and treated myself to expensive clothing. I lived that Destiny Child’s Independent Woman life. And now ? It’s a big deal trying to decide if I can afford to buy cheese for my turkey sandwiches.

So let’s move this sob story onto the superficial, dumbass things that are bothering me. Like that’s real world shit right ? But I don’t like dwelling on real world problems. I handle it and move on. Yet my heart still hurts so I tend to focus on something less important as my excuse. Enter literally the only other thing I have going on rn RP. Man, I have the best writing partners and the best threads, let me tell you ! When I say I love my dash, I’m not just blowing smoke up y’all’s asses. I mean it. Sometimes I just sit and stare at my drafts in awe. But lately, my brain is frustrated. See, I’m not the Indie RP type. I can’t deal with a thousand different threads and interact with everyone, as much as I’d like to. My brain just doesn’t work that way. I prefer to live in my small corner and have a partner with whom our muses are deeply developed. Like full on universes with stories about different parts of their relationship’s timeline and with NPCs and fucking pinterest boards and shit. Y’all know what I’m talking about. A partner who tags me in shit because they see a post on their dash and it made them think of me. A partner who can just send my muse random asks about shit because they’re bored. A partner I can throw wild fangirly comments at in DMs at all hours of the day because something inspired me, or something made me think of our muses. You see, I had it once. On my Dean Winchester account, I met someone and our muses man... we didn’t plan that shit but they clicked and we were inseparable. It was so amazing. But I can’t write Dean anymore and even though I’m still very good friends with that mun IRL, they don’t write anymore. I feel like I’ve been chasing that high ever since, but it’s just gone.

Like, I just did that positivity night, right ? I really needed the boost and nothing helps like giving out compliments, and it worked. Believe me. I was so tickled by the responses and getting to force myself to think of wonderful things about my partners ( which is easy to do, lbr ). But a couple of people went above and beyond and sent it in as a request for someone else. God, how fucking cool ? But then my stupid brain takes over and reminds me that I don’t have a partner going out of their way like that for me. And god, what a selfish thing to think, right ? This is all good vibes, and I genuinely wanted to make other people smile, but I can’t help but have half my mind say “but what about me ?”. So lame. Especially since I never ask for help so who is even gonna know that need the pick me up ? Ugh. But I’m too chickenshit to ever send someone a meme to make them compliment me. Hell, I’m too chickenshit to like people’s posts when they ask for mains. A voice in my head is like “nah man, keep that shit for other, more qualified candidates. You have good threads, calm down.” But I dunno, sometimes I feel like I have a ton of threads, but that’s all they are ? The fillers ? Sure, it’s great writing, but it doesn’t go anywhere. It’s not meant to build anything for people, it’s just to give them something to do to pass the time while they’re building universes with their mains.

Could I be more selfish ? Like really. But that’s the thing : it’s my desolate feeling of complete lack of purpose in life bleeding into the one thing I’m trying to keep my mind distracted with. Do I hate RP ? No. Do I resent anyone on my dash ? Fuck no ! I love all of you and I’m incredibly grateful for anyone that interacts with me. But sometimes I see some magical friendships here and I just... I want that, man. I miss it. I want purpose again, in any facet of my life. I want to be excited again ; about ANYTHING. I’m tired of bobbing around like a cork on the sea of life. 

I wish I meant more.    」

[flowercrown-bucky]

Loki Takes The Tube

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fire 

Summary: After the cycling incident, you are forced to take Loki on the Tube again. Just about everything that could go wrong, does. 

To the delightful individual who sent me an anonymous ask declaring that they think this series is “stupid” and that the titles make them sound like a children’s book - Congratulations! That is, in fact, the idea. Glad the penny finally dropped for you. 

This is the third instalment of “Loki Adapts To Modern Life”. 

Loki Learns To Cycle | Loki Learns To Cook

Send any other ideas into my askbox or my messages! There are currently two additional chapters under construction. 

Loki Adapts To Life taglist is open. Please comment or message me if you’d like to be added. 

THE tube was an unusual delight.

Typically English and almost exclusive to the residents of the capital, it provided an affordable rapid-transport system to the wider public both over and underground throughout London, its outer boroughs and into certain areas of Bucks, Essex and Hertfordshire.

Naturally, they hated it.

It was dark, dingy and crammed. It smelled at the best of times, and woe betide any unfortunate soul who wound up travelling the Circle line at quarter-past five on a Thursday evening.

It was a hellish and arduos commute, and every self-respecting Londoner was convinced their daily commute was worse than any other resident of the city.

It was, however, better than the bus.

So, it is stoically endured, full of stiff postures, tight-lipped smiles and curt conversation - but only when absolutely unavoidable - in the way that British people do best.

After all, the English are renowned for their almost painfully polite manner.

Asgardians, however, were not.

You'd taken the Tube almost every day of your adult life, alone. 99.9% of the time, it was relatively hassle free. Unpleasant, but not unbearable.

Loki, had been entirely responsible for the 0.1%.

--

You had, you were fairly certain, gone quite mad.

Your first trip on the Underground with Loki had been nothing short of terrible, and as you made your way along the pavement to the station, you pondered the two relevant objectively poor decisions you had made.

The first? Taking Loki back on the metro system - although you clung to the futile hope that being on the Overground might change his mind.

The second? Deciding to live in a borough that was famous for its lack of Tube stops.

It was, you had decided, for the better sake of all humanity, that while he adjusted to mortal methods of travel, he did not go unaccompanied.

It had been quite the struggle to persuade him to wear the baseball cap that was currently jammed on his head, or the sunglasses that currently adorned his face. People weren’t, on the whole, that keen on him after the whole New York incident, (Very few countries had bought into the idea that Loki had been acting under the control of a meglomaniac from a distant solar system) and your boyfriend drew enough attention to himself without being contained in a space the size of a beer can. 

You approached the turnstile, turning to Loki. You took his hands gently, praying to every god you could think of that this would go hassle-free. 

When was anything ever hassle free with Loki in tow? 

“Do you remember what to do with your Oyster card?” You asked, holding out the blue piece of plastic to him. You normally used the contactless pay on your phone, but you’d not even breached the concept of a bank account with Loki, let alone smart phones. Plus, you were fairly certain having ‘war criminal’ on your resume exempted you from most high street banks. 

“Yes, I’m not a toddler.” He grumbled, snatching the card out of your hand. “Why is it even called an Oyster, anyway? It’s rectangular.” 

You rolled your eyes, pulling your phone out of your pocket to swipe the turnstile, leaving your godly boyfriend to ramble about molluscs by himself. 

The disdainful look on his face as he walked through the barrier was enough to make the Mona Lisa crack a grin. 

“That man touched me.” He screwed his face up in disgust. “Mortals and their mortal germs and their mortal diseases and their mortal....” 

“Loki, that’s what happens when you queue. You’re going to have to get used to it.” You squeezed his hand reassuringly. “It’s what we do in England.” 

“But why?” He asked. “That cannot be the most efficient way of having lots of people waiting at once.” 

“I don’t really know.” You wrinkled your nose. “I’m not sure anyone really does, to be honest.” 

“Stupid.” He replied, glaring at the woman next to him on the platform. “I hope you know I’m only doing this to humour you.”

“So you’ve said.” You sighed, more to yourself than anyone else. “Many, many times.” 

“And this disguise, is futile.” He gestured to his hat and glasses. “I’m wearing sunglasses underground. I would be less conspicuous with fairy lights strung around my neck.” 

“It will work, trust me. Stop complaining.” 

--

You gritted your teeth, rolling your eyes in despair. Of all the fucking days for the train to break down, it just had to be this one. 

You turned your gaze to Loki briefly. He’d been holding his limbs in the same stiff position since you’d stepped on the train - fifty two minutes ago. 

Being accustomed to the many sudden directional jolts that characterised a ride on the Underground, you had reached up to grab the bright yellow rail above your head, gesturing for him to do the same. He had refused to even touch it, muttering something about bacteria. A sudden left turn had sent him flying, flooring the unfortunate gentleman to his right in the process. 

Loki was, as he had reminded you on several occasions, completely incapable of blushing, but if he was, you were fairly certain it would look something like the way he had as he got back to his feet. 

Needless to say, he didn’t think it was nearly as funny as you had. 

Your mirth was short lived, due to the train promptly stopping for some unapparent reason. 

You reached for his hand, smiling at him reassuringly. He’d not said anything in the thirty-four minutes you’d been stationery, opting instead to glower at anyone who made anything remotely resembling eye contact with him. 

“Hey, where have I seen you before?” You winced as someone tapped his shoulder. “Have you been on the TV or something?” 

He raised his hand to his face, removing his sunglasses before turning to look at you, his face completely deadpan. 

“I told you.” 

--

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the zip of Loki’s trousers pressing rather painfully into the soft flesh of your stomach. Eventually, the train had gotten moving again, only to become extremely, uncomfortably full two stops on. You’d ended up pressed flush against Loki’s broad chest, something you would not normally complain about - although there were normally not so many people present and far less clothes involved. 

“Darling.” He hissed. 

You raised your eyebrow inquisitively, looking up at him. He’d bitten his lip so hard that you thought he might chew it, his gaze trained on the flaking roof of the carriage. 

“What?” You mouthed up at him. 

“I can feel someone’s hand.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “On.. On my buttock.” 

You bit the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from laughing. He glared down at you. 

“I’ll cut it off.” He hissed. 

“Loki.” You warned. 

“Fine.” He muttered. “I’ll just make it look like it’s been cut off.” 

“Behave.” You growled. 

He pulled a face at you, waggling his head from side to side as he imitated you in a mockingly high-pitched tone. 

--

“See? It wasn’t so bad.” You chirped, breathing in the fresh air after just over an hour on a stuffy train carriage. 

“Wasn’t so bad?” He turned to you incredulously. “Were we on the same train?” 

“I’ve had worse.” You shrugged. 

“A twenty five minute journey lasted over an hour, over which time I was felt up by a stranger and fell on my face.” He raised his eyebrows. 

“Eh, just a fairly standard commute really.” 

-- 

[If you have any nasty, rude, or generally unpleasant thoughts and you feel the need to share them with me - before you do, please take my reminder to fuck off and get in the bin.] 

[kaleidoscopic-writing]

Mind Over Matter

Chapter 1: I’ll Be Seeing You Down Every Road

December 2017

Alison Whitworth was getting cold feet, which proved to be a trend with her recently. After dumping her loser of a fiancé a month ago, she has been a mess. It was sad really, that tosser completely didn’t deserve Alison, and yet somehow he had twisted her to believe it was he that was too good for her. That is absolutely bonkers considering Alison was London’s sweetheart actress. Though, here she was locking herself in her bedroom right before we were to leave for her first night out since the break up.

   "Ali don’t do this right now. We’re all ready to go,“ I said as I knocked on her door. I could hear moving about within, but no response came. Leaning my head against the door as I continued, "You agreed to this, and you cannot back out now. Everyone will be there tonight, and I’m sure everyone is looking forward to see the Alison Whitworth back in action. No one can be the life of the party like you, remember that. Yeah, you could be that again.”

     It was quiet. She was probably thinking about her options, and I hoped she would listen to me. Everyone would be disappointed it I ended up showing to this party by myself. Mostly because I’m just the little sister of the famous Alison Whitworth. Though I had know most of her friends, I wouldn’t really consider them friends to me. If anything, they were friends by association. I was friendly to them and hung out with them when I attended events with my sister, but I would never hang out with any of them individually. Alison’s friends weren’t really my scene. All of London’s socialites seem to run together, and with them came publicity and social media, which don’t mesh well with the low key lifestyle I preferred.

    “Eden, I can’t,” she said so quietly. “It doesn’t feel right without him.” I knew if I didn’t stop her soon that waterworks would follow.

    “Oh that’s bullocks. You know he hated your friends, Ali. Towards the end, he basically made you stop seeing them.”

    “Still, it’s just different, and I don’t know if I can handle it.”

    I scoffed at that, “You are the strongest person I know and it’s ridiculous that you don’t think you can handle this. The Alison Whitworth I know would walk out this door and have a night to remember because she wouldn’t let some bloke who broke her heart stop her from moving on.” I stood there for a second as silence filled house. I stood there hoping my somewhat inspiring speech took effect on her.

    “Okay. Okay! Just give me five minutes,” she yelled through the door. I felt a pat on my back was deserved, but just smiled to myself as I made my way downstairs.

   I heard Alison moving about as I went downstairs. Not only was I proud that Alison got the courage to step back into the single world, I was in much need to get wasted tonight. It’s so hard to find time to go out and just have fun when Uni feels like it’s slowly killing you in coursework.

************

    The crowd was what you expect. Many of London’s socialites gathered around sharing drunken stories from across the globe.  One of which I was currently listening to. I stood with Alison, arm in arm, as we listened to Nick Grimshaw tell of his latest drunken escapades in New York City last month.

   I had already downed enough shots of vodka to where ensure that I would be hungover tomorrow, so as Nick told me a particular part of his story that very scandalous, I lost it laughing very loudly. Nick really knew how to tell a story, and on the multiple occasions I had been out with him, he always knew how to make me laugh. I turned to Alison exchanging knowing glances of how crazy Nick was.

   "I’m telling you, it was fucking mental, Alison,“ he said. "You should have been there.” For a second I was worried that Alison would snap, seeing as his stories had taken place a couple weeks ago when Alison was still in her post-Alex depression.

  She waved it off. “Yeah, I know. This past month has been a complete waste.” Her drunken state probably the reason she didn’t take it to heart.

  One of Alison’s friends, Drew, started to go on about some people I didn’t know, so I thought I’d excuse myself to get another drink. The club was pulsing with music as I made my way through the VIP section to the bar. As much as I loved to go out to the general area and get lost in the crowd, the VIP section was very more chill. I went up to the bar before taking a seat on a stool.

  “What can I get for a pretty girl like yourself,” the bar tender asked as he made his way towards me.  

   "Jack and coke, please,“ I smiled as I tapped my fingers against the counter.

   "Alright. Coming right up for you,” he smiled back as he went to go mix my drink. I sat there playing with my bracelets as I waited. Soon, I heard a multitude of loud cheers coming from behind me. I turned my head to see what all the commotion was about.

  I spotted everyone’s happy faces turned to a new person entering the section. There in all his glory was Harry Styles. He was much talked about across the country, the globe; really, it seemed like you had to be living under a rock to not know who he was. Though, he was a couple years younger than Alison and most of her friends, he had become really near and dear to them. They always spoke of him with dearest affection, but I had never met him before because he had always been away with his band and then with his movie and new solo endeavors.

  Being in the same room with him now, I found an attractiveness in him that I hadn’t seen before. Of course I had only seen various pictures and videos of him from Alison, but this was different. His smile seemed a thousand times more vibrant as he said hello back to everyone, and as he stood there in black jeans and a button up with some pattern I couldn’t see, with the buttons only half way up, I understood what all the hype was about him. His short hair beginng to slightly curl again as his younger quiff of hair seemed to be returning.

   I watched him for a little longer as he joined Alison, Nick, and the group they were conversing with. A voice snapped me out of my trance as I turned back to the bar. “Here ya go miss,” the bartender said as he put my drink out in front of me. He was swiftly thanked before I hopped off the stool and made my way to return to Ali.

  When I got back to Ali, Harry had moved onto other friends. I smiled as Ali saw me and threw an arm around my arm as I sat down next to her. “God, Eden you seem to grow up and get prettier every time I see you,” Pixie said as I sipped my drink.

  “Thank you really, but you say that every time I see you,” I smiled, as she laughed.

   "Well, you can’t expect any less from the Whitworth sisters. You genes were bound to be golden from your parents. I mean gorgeous people like that don’t make ugly children,“ Nick chimed in. Alison and I laughed as the common conversation of our parents came up.

Our mother was the famous model, Jamie Strolin, who married the legendary singer, James Whitworth. The eighties were really crazy times. Surprising through all the years of partying and definite hard core drug use, my parents remained together, but not without a few major bumps along the way. God knows I’ll never forget when Mum and I, not even eight years old, were shopping at Waitrose, and I spotted the newly printed tabloids with headlines of my father’s alleged affairs with ‘exclusive’ pictures entailed. My mom was horrified, shielded me away from them and tried to explain that people made lies about famous people just for fun.

I almost believed her, but it was too late. Through friends and other magazines I saw the story and I saw the pictures. Albeit being blurry, I knew that they were true. My parent always vehemently denied the allegations, seeing as that wasn’t the only time either of my parents were accused. I tried to believe them, always, but deep down, I could never forget that first time I read my parents’ dark secrets splashed against front pages.

   "Yeah, I sure thank my lucky stars for that. This face is the reason for my career, and god knows where I’d be if I didn’t have it. Couldn’t possibly imagine myself in some career having to do with smarts. Everyone knows I don’t have those,” Alison said. I rolled my eyes as she doesn’t give herself as much credit she deserves with how smart she is.

   "Oh shut it Alison. We all know you are brilliant.“ I spoke out as everyone nodded along. Name a person that could memorize a script and nail it perfectly quicker than Ali. You couldn’t.

    "Eden, you’re studying fucking economics of all things. That needs brilliance, not being an actor,” Alison bit back.

    “You’re the one with all the talent though.”

    “Oh don’t sell yourself short, Little Eddie. I’m sure you got some hidden talents somewhere,” Nick winked at me when he spoke the last part. A smile made its way on my lips as I rolled my eyes. “Maybe it’s that eye roll, seems pretty perfected to me.”

     Alison and I seemed like the classic one with the brains and one with the talent. On a couple levels that could seem true, but I think we are each more than that. Alison always finished as one of the top students in her class at every performing arts school she attended. She understood how to get by with good grades. I had just been determined to work hard my whole life. I had no other interests like acting that distracted me from my studying.

   My eyes roamed around the space. It was dark but flashing lights made it possible to see everyone. I found him easily from the floral sheer shirt he was wearing, bunched up on his forearms and exposing his upper chest.. He was in a conversation with some people who I hadn’t known the names of. I focused on him a little more and his facial features became more defined. I had seen pictures of him in papers, but even in the dark setting we were in now I could tell that they didn’t do him justice.

     He must have sensed someone watching as his eyes lifted to mine. Ah damnit, I hate when this happens. My breathe caught in my throat as I realized I was caught. I turned back towards Alison still talking about whatever project she was about to start working on.

    “And guess who they is starring as the lead male,” she started. “Bloody Bradley Cooper. Can you believe it.” This wasn’t the first time I had heard of this, but every time I was reminded of it my heart hurt a little. Bradley Cooper is a major love of mine. I usually don’t get star struck when meeting people seeing as I grew up with celebrities, but if I ever met Bradley, I would lose my mind. So, you can see my growing anxiety and hope that a crossing between us soon.

Yes, yes. Of course, I know he is with one of the most beautiful women in the world. Honestly, I have just as big a girl crush on Irina than I do on Bradley. Also, you could forget the genetically perfect baby they had about a year ago.

    After a few seconds lately, I spared another glance in his direction. Lift my eyes slowly to him, much to my surprise, his eyes were still on mine as those around him continued to talk. I think the slightest of smirks graced his lips as we looked to each other for a couple more seconds.

   "Eden, what do you think?“ Nick said loudly.

   My head turned back to the group as I saw all eyes on me. "What,” I said completely confused.

   Nick sensed something was off and looked in the direction I just was. A moment of realization hit his face as he figured out I was doing. “You were watching Harry!” He exclaimed.

   I could feel heat rise to my cheeks, and I struggle for an excuse. “I was not!” Brilliant, probably the worse excuse I could use. I hoping that I didn’t just sound like a six year old in front of Alison’s friends, denying the obvious truth when caught with the hand in the cookie jar.

   "You were too,“ Nick smirked and I rolled my eyes but struggled to stop a smile from enveloping my face from embarrassment. "Don’t worry love. Many find themselves star struck with the beauty that is Harry Styles.”

    The smile couldn’t be stopped as everyone laughed. At this point in the night, I thought it would be better to just let it go. So I laughed along with everyone.

     "What does little Eden have some interest in little Harry?“ Alison snickered as she elbowed me in the ribs.

      "Please. Like I would ever want to get involved with someone like Harry Styles,” I replied. “Don’t you know me better than that.” I sneered back. A smirk graced my lips as I tilted my head to one side.

      It was a principle of mine which I have stuck to very well. Don’t get involved with celebrities. For one, I don’t have time for a relationship in general, so when you add in the pressured life of a celebrity, I don’t think I would be able to handle it. I’ve seen the pressure that Alison had to endure with all her past relationships. It was a side effect to her dream, and I was determined to steer away from that situation.

       "You really ought to rethink your morals, Eden. Harry Styles could show you a good time,“ Nick chimed in. My mouth dropped open in mock shock at his blatant comment, and a roll of the eyes was enough of a response from me. “Ahh, yes that eye roll is you hidden talent.” At that, I flipped him off

*****

    I was surprised. I wasn’t easily surprised, but when I found Alison sneaking her way into the bathroom with a fairly attractive guy, I was surprised. She was most definitely piss drunk, but I thought this could be good for her. The only way to get over somebody is to get under someone else.    I stood by myself, leaning against the wall, off in some corner of the VIP section. After Alison first made acquaintance with whom she was currently shagging, I decided I needed a little break. The alcohol really starting to take affect on me as everything was kind of hazy. Tonight’s event will prove to disastrous tomorrow when I have to try to get up and do school work. My brain hurt just thinking about it.   "You know staring isn’t polite,” a deep voice spoke out. I rolled my head to the side to see who had come to talk to me.    Harry Styles was standing in front of me. Normally I think I would be a little nervous. Who wouldn’t be nervous, but right now I was really relaxed and decided I could roll with the banter he was making.    "Who’s to say I was staring,“ I answered as I looked over his face. Even in the dark surroundings, I could make out somewhat of his green eyes. Not often do you see someone with green eyes like his.   His posture was relaxed. His hands tucked into his extremely tight jeans, while I could finally make out the floral pattern on his shirt. Pink and red flowers spread out the expanse of his shirt, contrasting the dark black of the sheer material. Surely if anyone else in this room tried to wear it, I doubt they would be able pull it off like he did.    "I think you were intently staring at me,” he said as he laughed. I bit my lip to keep from smiling.     “That didn’t stop you from staring back did it?” I raised a brow at him.    "I suppose you’re right,“ he smirked. "So are you a new friend of Grimmy’s? I haven’t seen you around at parties before.”    "No, not really friends with anyone. Decided I would crash a party tonight,“ I said seriously. He laughed as he crossed his arms, leaning against the wall to the right of me.    "Security must be getting really loose these days.” He said, with a raise of an eyebrow, clearly not buying my act but playing along.     It was my turn to laugh and shake my head. “I’m Eden.”     His mouth made an ‘o’ as the connection formed in his mind. I was trying hard to stop thoughts of how attractive his pink lips were, as confusion spread over his face. "You’re Little Eden? I definitely did not even recognize you. Alison makes you out to be like young teenager or something, and I hadn’t seen pictures of you two in a while. I always just assumed you were much younger.”     I turned towards Harry so we were facing each other straight on, though both leaning against the wall. "Of course she does. I think she still sees me from my young teenage years, which is not the kind of stories I would like her tell seeing as how I was very embarrassing that young.” He smiled as he listened. His smile was captivating to say the least.    "Well she definitely paints a misconception.“ I nodded before pushing off the wall.    "She’s mental,” I said. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it happened, but I could have sworn Harry’s eyes trailed down my body as I took a step away from him. It made me thank my lucky stars that I wore my little brown suede dress that shamelessly stopped high on my thigh just below my bottom with my favorite black heels that I felt made my legs look really long.    "That’s very true. I know she has been growing through a hard time, and it was nice to see her somewhat back into her element tonight.“ He pushed off the wall and came to stand in front of me. Only because of my  heels did we appear to be eye level with each other.    "Yeah, it is. I took this night to come and support her and somewhat to get away from my coursework, but that’s besides the point. She had a great time tonight,” my eyes fell from his face to the floor as I smiled, provided of the first step my sister achieved. “She looked beautiful tonight.”     “She always does though.” He commented.     “You got a thing for my sister, Harry?” I joked.     His head tilted backwards after he let out a loud laugh, causing myself to join in laughter. The conversation came easily. He truly seemed like an easy going guy that everyone made him out to be. It’s seemingly why he was part of my sister’s friend group seeing as he had that star quality, to be able to walk into a room and completely takeover. Not in a bad way. It’s just like everyone knew he was the guy to pay attention to.       “No, I love your sister, but we are just friends.”     “Good. Because then I’d have to find out your intentions and all that shit.”     “Do I look like the kind of guy that could ever have bad intentions?” He scoffed.     “According to every tabloid in London, you do.” I raised an eyebrow.     “Oh please. You know from your sister that those are all shit. None of it’s true.” He shook his head. His lips went into a tight line.     I couldn’t hold it in as I let out a laugh. Having gotten a little worked up from this conversation, it appeared he was taking me seriously. “I’m just kidding. God, with what Ali and all her friends say about you, it’s like you have never done wrong in your entire life.”     “Yeah right. They probably all gather together just to talk about my life and what I’m fucking up now.” A small spread across his face. I couldn’t help but reciprocate it.     “I have to admit I’ve attended a few of those gatherings,” I smirked.      My eyes found his, which were already on mine. We both broke out in laughter, as I kept my eyes on his face. His head tilted back and his eyes crinkled because his laughter just overcame his face.      "Yeah well I guess distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?“      "Oh you could definitely say that. I think they have been counting down the days until you came back to London, especially after doing the Victoria Secret show. All they could talk about was how ‘you fucking smashed it,’” I used my hands for air quotes on the last four words. He smiled as his hand raised to rub against his jaw. I had to tell my self not to watch his hand against his jaw, which I was becoming increasingly aware of how defined it was. “What did you think about it,” he stately comely. A look of amusement in his eyes as to how I would answer. “Well, I opted not to stay up until four in the morning to watch due to the fact I had breakfast with my parents at nine the next morning.” I paused. “That didn’t stop Ali, though. She’s obsessed with the yearly show.” Harry let out a small laugh. “But, from what I saw on youtube the next morning. It was really great.” Harry had a wide smile grace across, obviously still not use to hearing praises of his recent endeavors. “I cannot imagine though its too hard to sing around the most beautiful women in the world.” “It is actually so much pressure. What if I mess up? It would be in front of, like you said, the most beautiful women in the world.” “Oh no trust me, you crushed it and I bet you had all those women fawning at your feet.”     There was a couple beats of silence — Harry held a look of content after hearing positive intake of his past performance. His silence also seemed to assure me in my assumption that the women were happily all over him. I looked at him a few seconds longer, as he looked at his shoes, and I realized I was actually in fact very tired.      “I’m sadly sobering up and becoming very sleepy, so I think it’s about time I make my exit with my sister. It was nice meeting you Harry.” I put my hand on his chest as I said the last sentence. His muscles were felt under my touch.    "Bye Eden,“ he breathed quietly as I looked backed to his eyes. There was a kindness in them that I found comfort in. Maybe it was why so many had considered them to be good friends with Harry. His whole personality was inviting.    I nodded as I turned to walk away. After a few steps and against my better judgement, I turned around. He was watching me, as his eyes rose from my legs to my face, "Staring isn’t polite, but you looked really good tonight as well.”    He smirked as I turned around for the final time to find Alison, hopefully not planning on bringing home the boy she shagged in the bathroom. That would be quite the awkward ride home. Alison Whitworth Returns to the Night Life Scene   The paps almost didn’t believe their eyes or cameras when Alison Whitworth appeared at 27 Lux nightclub late Tuesday night. Of course, Whitworth was joined by her date for the evening, her little sister Eden. Eden appeared to turn away from pictures or questions, seeing as she is a student at UCL. Sources told us that Eden pushed Alison to make her first appearance back out after a full month since her breakup with movie star, Alex Smith.    A source tells us, “You would think that since she dumped him, she would be over him by now, but Alison is still so cut up over him. Seeing his face plastered all over news articles with his new fling have got her questioning everything and how it went wrong.” Alex seemed to move on quickly, being spotted with his new British model, Daisy Watkins, only four days after news broke that Alison had ended their engagement.     So, we can’t be more elated to see Alison back to her spot as reigning British socialite. We were also told the night was filled with fun and laughs (and loads of alcohol, of course). Alison and her sisters were joined by Nicholas Grimshaw and his squad whose squad goals rival Taylor Swift’s we must say. Not only to be completed by the Harry Styles who appeared later in the night but definitely brought much life to the party that rockstar he is.    Harry too seemed to have a good night, we are told he spent part of the night away from the crowd spending time with a mysterious brunette from the club. These insides seemingly confirm the long speculated split between Camille Rowe and Mr. Styles himself. The two were linked a few months back after being spotted together going out and dining together. Maybe now, Harry has a new girl to take out.

[minnesotacumdumpster]

“Jennifer Knight?”

The effortlessly fabulous single mother turned around to be greeted by an approaching older gentleman.

“It’s nice to finally meet you! Arthur Griffin.” He exclaimed, extending his arm outwards for a handshake with the woman.

It had been three months and four days since Jennifer uprooted her life in Minnesota and moved out to Los Angeles with her children and the other boys. Big Time Rush had just made it past their demo phase, and were now on track to release an album in the near future. It had come as a surprise to everyone. She never would’ve expected her boys to be doing so well. Love them or hate them, she couldn’t lie. They aren’t all that talented. Logan couldn’t dance, Carlos couldn’t sing, and James… well she doesn’t hurt his feelings.

But Arthur Griffin, CEO of RCM CBT Globalnet Sanyoid thought otherwise. From the minute Gustavo slapped the headshots of the boys on his desk, he’d been enamored with them. He was the source of all of the band’s money so far, going as far to pay for all of Jennifer’s expenses in getting the boys across the country and setting them up in the Palmwoods. He was looking forward to meeting the families of his next biggest super stars.

He’d arranged a dinner date in a steak house between the Knights and himself for the evening. He wanted to be formally acquainted with every boy’s family before their careers really took off, and considering Jennifer was already in the city, he figured it only made sense to have her first.

“Hello! It’s great to finally meet you! This place is just… wow!” Jennifer beamed, excitedly shaking the hand of the man who controlled her son’s career and kept a roof over their heads. Griffin brought her hand toward his face, kissing the top of it. “It’s my pleasure.”

Jennifer gasped. “Kendall! You never told me what a gentleman your manager was!” Looking over to her son who was pathetically leaning over that little bench thing they always have near the hostess stand. He looked like he was having difficulties focusing, hardly acknowledging his mother.

Griffin couldn’t help but smirk. “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing towards the VIP longue of the restaurant. Letting Jennifer go first, Griffin waited for Kendall to stand up straight.

“Please… can you let please let up just a… a bit?” the blond pleaded, fire in his eyes as he stared at the older man.

Griffin chuckled. “Now why would I ask you to bring your toy if I didn’t plan on having fun with it?”

Kendall would roll his eyes if he had the strength to do so right now.

“After you.” His manager insisted. Kendall began hobbling over towards the table Griffin had reserved for the three of them tonight. Griffin following suit, eyes locked on the younger male’s ass, proud of what he knew was inside.

Kendall sat down in the booth opposite of his mother, Griffin sliding in next to him, trapping him by the wall.

“Thank you again for taking us out for dinner, Arthur. Can I call you Arthur?” Jennifer smiled. “Of course, we’re basically family now that Big Time Rush is starting to take off.” Griffin replied. “I thought you had a daughter. Could she not make it tonight?”

“Oh! I do. She was supposed to come, but I had to ground her after I discovered she was running an underground towel business in the hotel. She tricked the janitor into giving her access to the custodian’s closet and was charging residents $20 to rent one for the day. Can you believe it?”

“Hahaha, kids.” Griffin chuckled, not really knowing what else to say. “And your husband?” he asked, knowing everything he already needed to know about him. Kendall’s daddy issues came up pretty early in the time he’d spent with the boy. He abandoned his wife and kids shortly after Jennifer became pregnant for the second time. Judging by how Kendall talked about the man, his absence really fucked him up. Something Griffin thanked god for every single morning.

“He uh.. sorta turned out to be a..” she paused, looking around the vicinity to make sure nobody could hear her. “A faggot!” she said in her regular speaking voice.

“Oh!” Griffin acted shocked

“I. Know!” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “I really loved him, and deep down I think he loved me too. But it just wasn’t meant to be, ya’know?”

“Completely.” Griffin responded, smirking as he played with the remote in his pocket. Suddenly, what felt like a jolt of electricity was traveling up Kendall’s spine, making the boy jerk forward and causing his eyes pop out. Had the waitress not just appeared, his mother surely would have taken notice.

It was about to be a long night.

___________________________________________________

           “And so I said to Brooke, Listen, bitch! You should be grateful I’m taking this fucker off your hands, like am I right?” Jennifer went on, mouth full of breadstick. She’d been prattling on about her personal life for an embarrassing amount of time. Griffin was more than happy to listen. Being the perfect gentleman to Kendall’s mother while he toyed with the blond’s hole all night was exhilarating. He kept his eyes locked on the woman, letting out a laugh every time she made a reference to her friend’s “secret” botox. He kept Kendall in his peripheries, intentionally upping the power of his plug every time he spotted the younger male trying to take a bit of his shrimp alfredo.

           “And, frankly, I don’t see what the big deal is? Be a frigid bitch, lose your husband to a younger woman! It’s basic math! That’s all I’m saying.” Jennifer went on while Kendall tried his hardest to keep it cool. This…. really wasn’t worth it. Griffin had a power over him he was beginning to question. Being plugged and behaving like a good boy during dinner sounded hot at the time, but that feeling was turning out to be torture now that he had to actually do it. He’d been precumming since they got their appetizers, and the blue balls he had as a result of the relentless whir in his butt were clouding his mind. He couldn’t focus on a damn thing. Thankfully his mother could never say no to a free drink. Or, four, at this point. Had Griffin not told her about this place’s legendary zinfandels, she’d surely hear the clacking of the plug hitting against the wooden booth Kendall was trapped in. Every ten seconds he had to reposition himself to ease the discomfort, but it just wouldn’t stop. There’s no way she knew what was going on, right?

           “Like I said, don’t come to me when you still have that pill addiction in your 50’s. It was never cute, okay?” Jennifer said in between bites of her chicken parmesan, happy to finally share this gossip with somebody besides Logan. Griffin let out a hearty laugh. “Ah ha, bitches!” He said with a grin. “Right!? And that isn’t even the messiest thing she’s done this year! Has anybody told you about her falling asleep during her turn being Hockey Mom Carpool?”

           “Hey, uh, can you get up? I need to use the restroom.” Kendall asked. Or, pleaded, as it felt more like. He knew that Griffin was hyper-focused on him the whole time, and judging by the fun he was having with his remote, changing the intensity on it every few minutes, there was no way he was planning on going easy on the blond tonight. Regardless, Kendall at least hoped that maybe bathroom breaks weren’t off the table.

           “And miss out on the rest of your mother’s story? Kendall, don’t be rude.” Griffin deflected.

           “He’s right sweetie! I’m gonna need you for this. Shed some light on how terrified you boys were when she swerved into that 18-wheeler’s lane.”

           “No, mom. It’s uh, sorta an emergenCYY.” Kendall choked. Griffin turned the dial in his pocket to its max, attempting to get the blond to shut his mouth and behave as expected.

           “Nonsense!” Griffin cocked an eyebrow. “What on Earth could be more important than hearing an exhilarating story from your own mother?” Jennifer looked stunned in his direction. “I. Like. You. Kendall, listen to every word this man has to say! He knows what he’s talking about. Arthur, I’m glad my son has a man like you in his life. God knows how long he’s needed a positive male role model, am I right!?”

           “Why thank you, Jennifer. I feel as if it’s my responsibility in teaching your son of the do’s and don’ts of the industry’s proper dinner etiq—”

           “May I PLEASE use the restroom, Sir.” Kendall cut him off, baring the pain while staring Griffin down. Only a little condescension in that last word.

           ……

           Griffin slid out of the booth, rising to his feet and turning the knob to 0 in the process. Kendall practically flew out of his seat and vanished into the depths of the restaurant, not even sure which way he needed to go in the first place.

           “Wonder what’s gotten into him?” Jennifer puzzled.

___________________________________________________

           Kendall pushed open the restroom door after finally finding it in the back of this fucking maze of a restaurant, meeting himself in the reflection of the mirror. He could hardly stand still. His lips were red from being bitten all night and his hair was its own travesty. Not to mention the dark wet dot leaking through his pants leg of his jeans. A fellow restroom guest washing his hands couldn’t help but look at the boy as he stood there, wondering what the fuck was going on in his life.

           Casting him a glare, Kendall went into the back-most stall, choking down a cry as he bit his fist. This had to stop.

           It had all happened so quickly. It’s hard to even remember how it started. He’d been in LA for two weeks. Griffin told Kelly who told him that he wanted to have a proper first meeting with all the boys in the band, but an individual one with Kendall before they met as a group. It didn’t seem odd at the time, and Kendall felt in over his head the realer and realer this boy band dream of James’s came true. He was elated to have Griffin take some of the pressure off after hearing the man planned to school him on how they were going to make this work. It was Griffin who ultimately decided he was to be the face of Big Time Rush and it was him who went on and on about how much potential he saw in him as a star.

What started off one day as a what felt like a mentorship Kendall was grateful to have made with someone that gave this unprecedented period of time in his life structure was now something so much desperate. Every action he made was in some way or another a test to impress Griffin. Their first couple of meetings contained nothing out of the ordinary. Then one day he was getting on his knees behind Griffin’s desk, servicing his boss while the man sung his praises. Kendall had never been one to willingly take orders, especially from someone as pretentious as Griffin. But it was like nothing he’d done before, and he couldn’t get it out of his head the next couple of days. A million thoughts raced around his head, but he was sure Big Time Rush was dead in the water. He was so fucking stupid for hooking up with their god damn BOSS. That’s gotta be illegal right? It felt illegal.

           But it didn’t stop there. Griffin wanted to keep going. He would pull him aside during rehearsals for more alone time. They’d have more and more of these “business” meetings that Kendall had to make up lies for each time one of his friends asked. It only made his actual job that much more exhausting. But he loved the time he spent with Griffin. The sessions were always quick, typically leaving the blond wanting more and feeling so much more antsy to impress the older man next time they were to have a “discussion” in his office.

From there, as their meetings became more and more frequent, he soon became completely enamored with Griffin. He’d never fucked somebody so much older than him, given he never really got the chance. Sure, he had crushes on a few NHL players here and there, and he’d be taking his crush on Logan’s dad to the grave, but actually having sex with a man 30 years older? Not something he could have predicted for his future when he was still in Minnesota. It was exciting to say the least. But nothing could have prepared him for how absolutely shredded Griffin was under his business suits. Or how persuasive he could be. When Griffin told Kendall to style his hair different, he listened. When Griffin told him the boys were to arrive at their photoshoot at 7:00, Kendall made sure they were present and ready by 6:45. He begun revolving his life around the man, excited to have someone finally taking an interest in him.

Griffin immediately took notice of the blond’s behavioral issues. He had a disdain for authority, insulting Gustavo’s competence any chance he got. Griffin got the vibe Kendall didn’t even really give a shit about being in a boyband upon their first meeting. And honestly? He wouldn’t have had it any other way. That’s exactly what he wanted. Soon he made sure Kendall knew who was in charge, teaching the boy how he was to behave at Rocque Records if he wanted the perks that came with doing so to continue.

It had been a wild three months, to say the least. From meeting Griffin in the first place, to lying to the band and Gustavo and Kelly about the extent of their relationship. It made him feel disconnected from the band as a whole, given any time they had work to do, Kendall couldn’t take his mind off of Griffin and what he could do to put himself in a positive light for the man. That mindset seemed to be paying off. Kendall was putting in the work for the wrong reasons, but Big Time Rush was doing amazing.

Soon he was keeping track of every ‘good boy’ and other reward he was granted, obsessing over what else he could do to make the man validate him. Briefly dating his daughter was by far the most uncomfortable part of their relationship up until tonight. During the 17 hours she made him date her, Kendall couldn’t help but keep wondering how Mercedes would react if he came clean about the number of times her dad had referred to him as his sissy boy. He couldn’t bare to do so, but he laughed at the thought numerous times.

The dinner with his family was supposed to be a congratulatory one for BTR making it past their demo stage. But Kendall knew there was never anything to worry about. As long as he was with Griffin, the band would be successful. He wasn’t exactly able to disclose that to them though, so he had to go along with the idea of sitting at the same table as his mom and Griffin, celebrating the fact that his boss was fucking him, essentially.

He was still in training, and tonight was a test on how well he could keep it together.

But fuuuck, he wanted to jerk off so bad... Was he morally above making it quick and shooting into the toilet right now? Wait, …. no. Griffin would be mad he touched himself without permission.

….

God! Did he really just think that right now? Has he lost his mind? Letting his boss control his orgasms!? This has gone too far. He’s plugged at dinner with his mom for fuck’s sake! He liked Griffin. He really did. Under the cold exterior was a man Kendall felt safe with. He valued the time they spent together because he felt like the man truly appreciated him. Or maybe he didn’t.. and this was all for nothing. Letting his dick get the best of him. For all he knew, he could be one of Griffin’s hundreds of boys he’d done shit like this with, not even special in the slightest. Whether that may be, that didn’t change how uncomfortable Kendall had suddenly become with this intense dom/sub kink thing. He wanted to put a pause to it for the night, but he can’t exactly go out there and tell him his safe word with his mom at the table.

All he can do now is get himself put together, finish his dinner and talk to Griffin in the morning. But first, he’s got an erection to kill.

___________________________________________________

           “This is actually her purse! She wouldn’t shut up about it, so I nabbed it and threw it in my car while she was flirting with the boy running the concession stand……... Bitch!”

           “Hahahaha. How ‘petty’!” Griffin said in response. “Say, do you mind if I go check on Kendall? He’s been gone quite a while and I feel compelled to make sure he’s in good health. Don’t want my next super star getting food poisoning and.”

           “By all means, please! I can only pray he’s half as polite a man as you one day.” Jennifer beamed, putting down yet another empty glass and smiling as she watched Griffin make his way to the restroom.

___________________________________________________

           Kendall nearly fell into the toilet when Griffin suddenly entered the stall. He’d been sitting down, focusing all of his energy on thinking about his grandma, desperate to get rid of his boner by any means necessary.

           “Come back out there and enjoy a nice dinner with your mother and I.” Griffin ordered.

           Kendall let out a sigh, face falling to his palms. “I don’t know if I can. I’m losing my fucking mind, man.” he choked.

           Griffin looked unphased.

           “Do you know what my balls feel like now? Not to mention my fucking ass! I know you get off on this kinda stuff, but I might have to draw the line here.” Kendall said, standing up. “I know good boys don’t have to beg, or whatever, but you gotta give me a break! I’m leaking through my jeans!”

           Griffin twisted the dial back to the max power, approaching Kendall while doing so. Kendall spasmed. Their bodies met as Griffin pushed his chest up against the younger male’s, keeping him upright and placing his open palm against the bulge of Kendall’s jeans. Kendall’s hands went to Griffin’s chest for support, taking in the pleasure as he felt some relief below.

           “Rut against my hand like the degenerate bitch you are.” He ordered.

           “B-but my jeans..” Kendall responded sheepishly; eyes cloudy.

           “That wasn’t a question. Do as you’re told.” The older man barked.

           Typically the one to fight back, Kendall forfeited logic and reason and listened to the man. Letting his dick think, he rocked his hips up, back and forth, moaning as he felt the pressure of the older man’s hand as his constrained bulge rubbed against it. He knew he didn’t have long until he’d explode, something that which Griffin had taken note of as well. His free hand reached behind the blond, index finger pressing against the plug sticking out of his ass, pushing in and out ever so carefully.

           Kendall’s eyes welled with tears as he buried his face in the older man’s tie. “Daddy” He groaned, voice muffled by Griffin’s chest.

           Within seconds Kendall was shooting ropes, ruining his jeans and making a mess of Griffin’s hand. He sobbed, head still kept tightly against the man’s upper body. Griffin pulled away, holding his hand out to the blond.

           “Feed.” He commanded. Kendall did as he was told and licked the older man’s hand clean, lapping up every drop of cum he could find, tongue darting between every finger. After shoving a couple of digits down the boy’s throat, Griffin’s hand made its way to Kendall’s chin, gripping it tightly, stopping the boy from attempting to kiss him.

           “Normally I’d say you’ve been a good boy. Getting yourself off so easily when told to. But look at you. Out in public like this.” Kendall’s hair was a mess, eyes were puffy and his left pant leg was dripping with cum. Like. Drenched. “You really disappointed me tonight. I thought you were better than this.”

           Kendall’s ears were ringing, his breathing irregular and his legs felt disgustingly sticky. He couldn’t respond to that if he tried. He felt awful. Griffin had never said anything so harsh to him before this.  

           Before he knew it, Kendall watched as Griffin let go and made his way over to the stall’s sink. Inside the lower cabinet was a shopping bag which he handed to the younger blond. “Here. Put these on.”

           Inside of the bag was a clean pair of boxers and an identical set of clothes he had worn tonight. Guess that explains why he had to confirm he outfit with Griffin beforehand. Kendall really didn’t know what to say or think.

           “……….Did you plan this?” he asked shyly.

           “Did I want you to fail my test and cream your jeans in the restroom like some pre-mature prostitute? No. Was I afraid there was a chance? Yes.”

           …….

           Kendall stared off into space. He was at a loss for words. What kind of relationship had he gotten himself into? Could this even be considered a relationship? Well, yes, technically. But could he call Griffin his boyfriend? Would Griffin call him his boyfriend? Did he even want to call Griffin his boyfriend?

           Griffin just stood there, waiting for his good boy to get changed so they could continue their evening with his mother.

           “I uh…. Griffin, I don’t think I can.. do this… anymore.” Kendall said, post-nut clarity helping him make that decision. “I know that might fuck up this whole thing you’re doing for me with the band and everything, but I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship like this. It’s all so new to me. I’m only 20.”

           Disappointment enveloped Griffin’s face. Ever since he laid eyes on the blond he knew he had to have him. The attitude problems and deadbeat dad thing were the cherry on top of the prospect of making him his sub. Training Kendall to be his obedient, well behaved super star was the most fun Griffin had felt in years. He’d tried this same routine in the past with several other boys who wanted to be famous, none of whom were successful. Everybody either tapped out earlier or didn’t ignite the same fire in Griffin that Kendall did. Sure, it was a symptom of losing his dad at a young age, but Kendall seemed so much more willing to prove to Griffin he could be everything the older male said he could be. But maybe he was wrong.

           “……. Get yourself cleaned up. Meet us back at the table. We’ll talk about this later.”

           Griffin left the stall, leaving Kendall alone to grapple with the weight of his decision.

           “Fuck.”

___________________________________________________

           Kendall approached the dinner table, taking note of how cold his plate looked now. His mom was lost in another story about Brooke Diamond’s failed reality show. Griffin looked a million miles away. Shit, he really hoped he made the right call back there. But fuck, was this really worth it? He already felt so shitty about doing that. He didn’t want to hurt the man’s feelings, but he hated lying to Carlos, James and Logan about the time they spent together. And he especially didn’t like the feeling of being plugged with his mom across the table from him. That was reasonable, right?

           Griffin stood up from the booth, not paying Kendall any attention as he slid back in, taking his seat against the wall.

           “Are you alright, honey?” Jennifer asked, breath reeking of wine as she looked at her son concerned.

           Kendall took in a breath. “Yeah. Think Carlos undercooked those mini corn dogs we had for lunch. Heh.” He lied. “I’m feeling better now.” He lied again.

           “Well good!” she smiled, eyes locked on her wine glass as she watched the waitress pour yet another glass. “Griffin, thank you again for taking us out! You’ve made me such a proud mom!”

           The air was tense between the two men at the table. Griffin simply waved his hand away, dismissing Jennifer’s claim. “Please. It’s just standard business procedure. I’m sure Big Time Rush would be doing just as well without me.” Kendall feeling gas lit from that last sentence.

           “I mean it! Whatever you’re doing is working! When we’re at home I hear all the boys say such awful things about you, but I don’t care! You’ve truly proved yourself tonight! Do you mind if I give you a hug!?” Jennifer stood up, oblivious to how much drunken rambling she was doing. She leaned in over Griffin, arms splayed out for a hug. He couldn’t help but lean back, cocking an eyebrow as his mind was still stuck on what she had just said.

           “Awful things? Like, what, exactly?”

           Not realizing her mistake, Jennifer straightened her posture, briefly glancing at Kendall, completely missing his stunned expression. Great. Just when this night couldn’t get worse.

           “Well..” she slurred, “they feel overworked! Every night when they come home they’re always exhausted from rehearsals. Logan really hates dancing and everybody who’s forcing him to do so, as a result. And James is ALWAYS throwing some little bitch fit when you don’t put him in the center of the choreography. And as Carlos describes it, the Rocque Records buffet assortments are ‘abysmal’. His words, not mine!”

           Kendall’s eyes darted back and forth from his mom to the back of Griffin’s head, worried she’d say something that would further solidify the end of their time in LA.

           “And….. Kendall?” Griffin asked.

           God. This is it. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

           “Honestly? I can’t think of one bad thing he’s said about you. Which is unlike him….”

           Griffin’s head spun around, taking a look at Kendall practically pissing himself in the corner. His face was as red as Griffin’s tie. The plug wasn’t even turned on anymore, but his body felt as on edge as ever.

           “What I will say is… Kendall won’t shut up about you! He talks about what a big help you’ve been and how much he values the time you two spend together.”

           Both men’s eyes immediately snap back to Jennifer.

           “The other night he told me he thinks you understand him better than anyone else! As his mother, I won’t lie, hearing that sorta ripped my heart out. But I’ll let it slide now that I got to meet you and understand exactly why my son loves you so much!” she said, leaning in for another hug.

           Griffin held his hand out, halting her once more. Turning around again, he looked at Kendall, this time with a more curious expression. “Is this true?”

           Still tense, Kendall felt especially uneasy at the fact his mom used the word ‘love’, given she probably didn’t know the layers to their relationship as it stood. Using that word didn’t exactly make things any less convoluted. Regardless, what she said was in fact real. Never in a million years did he expect her to drunkenly share that, though.

           “Uhh…. Yeah…” he replied shyly. Eyes locked on Griffin’s.

           ….

           “Well, thank you, Kendall. I appreciate that. Very much so.” He turned to Jennifer. “Mrs. Knight, let it be known that working with your son and the boys has been a highlight in my career. It’s rare that I’ve seen so much potential in a band this early, especially one comprised of four young men with absolutely no professional experience. Any positive influence I have made on your son or the others matters more to me than anything else they may think of me.”

           Kendall was stunned. For like, the 11th time during this dinner. Griffin faced him, smiling more sincerely than the blond had ever seen. They shared a passionate look, only to be undercut by the spontaneous amount of vomit coming from his mother’s mouth and spilling over the floor.

___________________________________________________

           Outside of the restaurant, Griffin held Jennifer in his arms, effortless lifting her and carrying her to an awaiting limo. “Ugh. I’m soOoOoOo gross. God, what would Brooke think…” she lamented, not at all upset she was being carried by the man of her dreams though. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, sweetie.” She apologized, looking over Griffin’s shoulder to find Kendall following behind.

           “Impossible.” Griffin grinned, gently letting her down and stand in front of her limo door. “Tonight was some of the most fun I’ve had in years. Jennifer, thank you. Kendall, I’ll be seeing you Monday morning to go over some of the final mixes for your upcoming album.”

           Jennifer hiccupped. “No way! The night is still young, don’t let me get in between your bonding!” she slurred, hand resting on Kendall’s shoulder. “Griffin, why don’t you take Kendall out for a beer or something? Really spend some quality time with him! Not just focused on work. You’ve earned it.”

           “If that’s alright with him.” Griffin postulated, shooting Kendall the dirtiest look of all time from behind Jennifer.

           “Uh, yeah, sounds good to me! Are you sure you’re feeling better, mom?” the blond asked, showing concern while stifling his excitement for where the night would go.

           “Oh, honey…. No. Part of the reason I don’t want you getting in that limo with me is because I don’t want you to see mommy making a mess of it!” she said with a smile. “Well, I’m off!” Opening the door, the overworked mother let herself fall limp in the white leather upholstered backseats. Griffin got the door for her, signaling the driver to pull off. Jennifer’s face emerged from the window as it rolled won, looking and waving at the two men. “You boys have fun!”

           For as long as she was in their sights, Kendall and Griffin waved back. Once the older man’s limousine pulled out of the parking lot, Griffin hastily turned the knob on his remote back to its full power, almost knocking the younger male off of his feet.

           “HOLY-”

___________________________________________________

           “Shit.” Kendall breathed heavily, stretching his jaw out. “I think I’m getting a lot better at sucking cock!” he beamed, confidently looking over at the older man who just fucked his face. Griffin sat there, back against the headboard, thumb swiping his cum off of the blond’s cheek. “I’ll be the judge of that.” He replied playfully, thumb sinking down in-between Kendall’s lips.

           It was far from Kendall’s first time being in this bed, but tonight was special. It was going to be his first time spending the night there. Or with Griffin at all.

           “Come here.” he ordered, patting the mattress next to him. Doing as he was told, the blond crawled over, laying so that his back was flush against Griffin’s chest, muscular arms keeping him close. Planting a kiss on the back of Kendall’s head, Griffin held his boy, spooning him in silence for a moment.

           “I had a wonderful time tonight. Your mom can’t seem to handle her alcohol, though.” Kendall laughed at the fact. “I had a good time too. I’m happy she liked you so much. And, I feel the need to apologize for my little bathroom freak out. I’ll try harder from now on, sir.”

           His words hung in the air. All Griffin could do is hug him tighter.

           “No need to worry. I’ll admit, I pushed you a step too far. As you stated, this is moving too fast for you.” The older male swallowed. “Respect is earned, and how am I to expect my boy to have respect for me if I push him past his limits?”

           “It’s not just that. I kinda….like you pushing me.” The blond admitted, turning his head to look the man in the eyes. “I mean, I’m gonna remember that orgasm for the rest of my life, hehe. I’m fine experimenting with whatever you want, as long as it’s not around my mom. Or in public. I really doubted myself in there, ya’know? I feel safe, with you now, but that was too much to handle.”

           Taking his chin in hand, Griffin met Kendall’s lips with his, the younger male instinctually opening his mouth for ease of access. Griffin didn’t half ass anything. He let Kendall know who was in charge no matter what. Even when cuddling.

           “I’m sorry I didn’t take that into consideration. From now on, I’ll be more receptive. You’ve been so good. So good for me.” The older man replied, planting another kiss on the blond’s cheek.

           The two lay still for a while, nothing but the sounds of their breathing filling the room. At the end of the day, everything he said was true. Kendall truly did feel safe and sound when in Griffin’s presence. It was refreshing to feel comforted by someone else, for once. Guess that made all the lying and sneaking around not feel as dirty as it should seem. Maybe tonight was a bad experience, but he chose to see it as a catalyst for some real change.

           He wondered what Griffin thought of the other boys. His interest and admiration for Kendall was so much greater than the amount of energy he put into acknowledging the other three. It was tough to imagine any of them here in his arms. Was that wishful thinking that he was irreplaceable to Griffin? Or did he genuinely think his friends could never land a silver foc like him? Regardless, the dinners Griffin was to have with their families later this week would never hold a candle to tonight’s.

           Griffin shifted, turning off a beside lamp before pulling Kendall in close once again. This time, face to face. They’d have to wake up early and get Kendall home so nobody questioned him, but that was several hours away. He’d rather live in the moment and appreciate the time they had now. Who knows when he’d get to spend the night in this bed again. Griffin’s arms once again wrapped around his body, strong hands making the boy forget about everything else.

           After all that, the word ‘love’ was still stuck in his head. While he would never use such a term so early into whatever kind of relationship he wanted to classify this as, he knew that he felt it. Being with Griffin gave him more fulfillment than any boyband could. Sure, it might not be a conventional kind of bond they had, but Kendall knew he never wanted him to let go.

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DELETED SCENE:

           “You boys have fun!” Jennifer slurred as she struggled to buckle herself up. “I’ll be on the couch for the rest of the night, watching and re-watching the series premiere of the new hit Nickelodeon show, ‘Victorious’!”

Griffin gasped. “You’re right! It is March 27th. I am so sorry for scheduling our dinner tonight and making you miss that. How silly of me…”

           “Don’t be!” Jennifer exclaimed. “The show’s gonna be a hit, just you watch! It’ll still be airing new episodes 11 years from now. That Victoria girl’s going places!” she smirked.

[cherrystreet]

I wrote this directly after I left my first Harry Styles concert. My emotions were more elevated, and now that I’ve had some time to sit and reflect, I feel a little less raw. Keep that in mind.

I definitely got carried away, just needed to type it out, I guess. It seems a bit mad, and I’m slightly hesitant to post, but maybe someone else can resonate and understand.

Music does fucking weird things to you, man.

Warning: it’s pretty aggressive in terms of “I miss this fucking boyband so much, I cry about it,” but you all know.

It’s not just a boyband.

You get it.

I saw Harry Styles at the Chicago Theatre on September 26th.

Several people have asked me for an update.

First disclaimer: this is less of a concert play-by-play and more of a word vomit. About One Direction. About Harry. About the hiatus, the crazy shit it’s made me feel over the past two years, the future. All a bunch of nonsense - or maybe not - thoughts.

Honesty hour ensues.

Let me preface this by saying I’m grateful. So beyond grateful for all my experiences. I won’t take advantage of that. I never have. Never will.

One Direction holds an interesting pull over millions of people. Me included. I fell in love with them on a whim - it wasn’t intentional. I don’t understand it. I can’t make sense of it. I can’t explain to others why I’m so invested. But at this point, I don’t bother with an explanation. I love to love them.

“One Direction is broken up. You still listen to them?” The amount of times I’ve heard this. I’m homesick for people who don’t know I exist. Moderately crazy, but shows the extent of the soul this band put into their music and performances and relationships with each other. And us. I feel tied to it.

Is any other fandom like this? I don’t know. Nor will I ever know.

Anyone who knows me knows I’ve had a very difficult time with the whole “solo” endeavor. One Direction is the biggest and most important part of my early 20’s, and for it to stop so abruptly and without any closure has taken an embarrassing toll on me. My best friend and I have become sickeningly close during our travels - we’ve experienced seven shows together, one of which was out the country - and to me, One Direction concerts became a place to make some of our deepest memories that no one else can replicate, or understand. I met friends - my Rita - through this band. I met you guys. It’s been two years of wondering and waiting if and when they would make a return into our lives, and then. Instead. We got solo Harry. Full force.

I understand the point of the break. I get it. Overworked. Shit management. I’ve exhausted the topic in my own mind, and with others. Doesn’t mean I’m jumping for joy over it. I’m a 1d stan at heart; I support them as individuals, but when it comes down to it, my loyalties lie with the band.

I’ll be candid and real, which I’m often not on this blog. I initially jumped on the “1d went on hiatus because of Harry” bandwagon. My original logic: he said he was the one who initiated it. He was the one who had solid plans. Louis said he fought it. Niall said he wasn’t ready for it. And after closely paying attention to hundreds of interviews since 2015, Harry has clearly showed his gratitude toward the band - don’t get me wrong - but he’s the only one who hasn’t talked about a return date. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to give false hope. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t know and doesn’t want anyone to read too much into his words. Maybe he’s moved on. Whatever the case, I shied away from his career at the beginning and couldn’t get excited like everyone else seemed to be. It hurt my heart to see him so happy and thriving away from the pieces that helped him with his start, his life. Honestly, I know I would have felt hesitant about whoever happened to go fully solo first (Zayn doesn’t count - that’s a very different situation). Sure, Niall and Louis had singles out last year, but it’s not the same as embracing a new album, a new identity. It just so happened to be Harry first.

Second disclaimer: I hate that the band isn’t together, but I could never hate any direct member for that. Ever. No one is specifically responsible. And I know that.

My vision is clouded. Selfishly, I didn’t want Harry (or any of them, really) to fall out of love with the past because I wasn’t ready to fall out of love with it. It’s brought me so much joy and love and laughter and experiences. It feels like I’m begging please don’t move on without me. I’ve found a major piece of myself because of this band, and as ridiculous as it sounds, I now feel a little lost. Being 25 is weird enough in itself, in terms of career and relationships and generally just being, and now take away the part that gave me stability and my independence, and I’m just. Wandering. Waiting for something to happen to make me feel as happy as One Direction did.

Reading that back sounds ridiculous. But I’m not the only one here.

I know what this looks like, what it sounds like. I know how skewed my perspective is. I’m doing my best to fix it.

I have Harry’s album memorized. I love a few songs, like a few, dislike a few. I guess that goes for every album. His style has changed from what we’re used to, as has some of his lyrics, but the quirkiness is still the same. The heart is still there. I knew it would be.

I was overwhelmed walking into the show. It’s been over two years since I’ve seen a member of 1d on stage in front of me. I had high expectations - expectations for his performance, expectations about how I wanted to feel once it was over. The venue was beautiful. It was the perfect place to listen to this album live for the first time. Echoey and full of charm and personality. Crystals. Velvet couches in the box seating area. Marbles floors and winding staircases. Pink hues across the stage. Simple, effective lighting. Harry. All Harry. No more crowds by the thousands, no more booming music, no more larger than life stage. Somehow, I felt more anxious.

He did not disappoint. But then again, I didn’t expect him to. For the past three years, he’s always done the best job at captivating my attention whilst performing. Nothing has changed in that sense.

It felt like the final nail in the coffin for 1d, kind of. My friend’s words. It’s too hard to imagine him doing this and then going back to a place where he doesn’t get to 100% put his whole self into what he’s doing, and has to share and compromise on ideas. I understand that. It would be counterproductive to work backwards. It wouldn’t be impossible, but it would definitely feel less organic.

Not just for Harry. For all of them.

Doesn’t mean I’ve lost faith, though.

“It’s been two years since we’ve last seen each other,” he said, “and in those two years, I missed you so much.”

I cried from the moment I sat down until I got back to my hotel room.

I like to be overwhelmed by music. But not like this.

I think part of it is because this was only the fourth night of his tour. It’s still brand new. I’m still not well acquainted with it. New territory, uncharted. I sound so ugly for being so conflicted about solo endeavors, especially when I know there were people who won’t get the chance to see him and I did. I’m grateful, I promise. I’m working meticulously to sort my brain from my heart.

I’m seeing Niall in a few weeks. God help me if I feel this royally fucked over from him, too.

Harry has not left behind his roots. That much was clear. I don’t think I was ever really worried about that part, because he’s pure and kind and appreciates everything in his life for what it is. He would never speak an ill word about 1d. Ever. I don’t think he has any ill words. I sobbed when he performed WMYB. I loathe that song. It felt like a small piece of home, anyway, him using their start as a part of his start. He looked gorgeous. He sounded like a dream. He doesn’t have as much room to prance, but he made do. No catwalk, no problem. I missed his voice. His speaking voice, preaching to the crowds about love and bravery. His terrible jokes. His gratitude. Christ, it felt so good to have him in front of me again.

Kiwi was exceptional. The crowd went off. SOTT was overbearing in a beautiful way. Hearing everyone scream “woman!” all at once was a Goddamn experience. The room was deafening for the entire show.

It wasn’t the same. I didn’t expect it to be, but I wanted it to be.

My friend kept saying, “One Direction is so dead and I couldn’t care less.” I care. I hate the division amongst the fans, amongst the media. “Pick a team.” I don’t want to. Right now, my friend loves Harry more than One Direction as a whole, so she doesn’t understand. I’m not going to try to make her. The crowd chanted “Harry” during the encore, and my heart hurt in the strangest way. I told Rita about it. “Ugh. Just Harry.” I knew she’d understand. She almost always does.

I love Harry Styles. With my entire heart. He was happy on that stage. Even while I stood in the back with my face in my hands, I could see that. I’m happy he’s happy. I love nothing more than a happy Harry. The world is a better place when he’s smiling.

That doesn’t mean that I don’t feel unsettled.

It’s out of my control. Accept the good that comes along with changes. Something I’m learning. Something I’m sure all five original members of One Direction are also learning.

I’m seeing him again on Saturday, in Boston. I’m hoping the initial shock will be mostly worn off and now that I know what solo 1d feels like, I’ll feel more ready for it. More ready for his sequined suit, his smile, his note changes, his band that isn’t the one we’re all used to, the harmonies that bleed together as if it was fate, the lack of three other boys who I miss terribly.

Maybe he misses them as much as I do.

I saw Harry Styles at the Chicago Theatre on September 26th. He was stunning. He moved me to tears. He ran with a rainbow flag, made us scream about pizza, looked beautiful in the neon pink lights. It wasn’t One Direction. It wasn’t better. It wasn’t worse. It was just different. And that’s what I’ll keep telling myself. Embrace being different. It’s what Harry does, after all.

I’m profound in the art of making five days worth of clothing fit into one carry on bag. I can memorize new albums in 48 hours if I have the right determination. I’m able to meticulously plan trips to new cities and venues like it’s nobody’s business. I’ve yet to master the ability, however, of separating love and music.

But I guess those are technically the same thing, anyway.

Thank you for a beautiful show, Styles. Thank you for allowing us into your life, for staying true. I’ve missed you, as a whole, as an individual. I’ll see you on Saturday.

Stay tuned for a second update this weekend. I’m sure it will be much different. I’ll be sure to post some photos, as there will “mainly be prancing.” And what a shame it would be to miss that.

xx Shelly

[shawnjacksonsbs]

Still ever-so inclusively for coexisting, but with a heavy hope for so much more.   4-26-20

"They think order and chaos are somehow opposites and try to control what won't be. But there is grace in their failings. I think you missed that." - Vision to Ultron Just so ya know, I had taken notes for this entry, like a lot of notes, but as I re-read over everything to edit, I found that the pieces were more of a . . . theatrical side tangent. They were arbitrarily flawed and got away from the point too far to come back from. Now everyone likes a feel-good story, and there's plenty of kindness and compassion left in humanity. But if I'm being honest, I believe there's still plenty of room for growth from the human collective as a whole. The only feel-good story I can ever be fully honest about is my own. Most of which has been recorded as I write this every week, going back over 6 years now. This won't be a specific feel-good story by the way, not really. The further along in life I get, specifically this side of life, the more I feel a disconnect from the systematic and political failures of the society I live in. The one that allows more of the less fortunate people to struggle in excess, as wealth hoarders stand by with enough to make serious social strides forward but don't. Not all of them are like this, but enough are. Eat the rich, seems more and more viable every day. lol I will never change pace with the fact that I do not think billionaires should be a thing either. Like, they just shouldn't be allowed to exist as billionaires. Pretty unrealistic to think that that will ever change, at least in my lifetime, but one can hope. And with that part being said, the least one of them could do is become the god damned Batman or fucking Iron Man!! Is that really too much to ask? I mean for I'd do it with less and a pair of tights. Wait. . . that didn't come out right. You know what I mean though. lol no lol True equality is never going to be a thing, even with a socialist or communist ideology in place that isn't flawed. It just hurts my heart on so many levels that more people don't want the same for everyone. Living in any society, drives home ideals to the largest parts of that society that their ways are the only right ways without ever thinking twice about any other parts, other regions, or other countries, and damn sure not in the whole world. People raised Christian tend to believe it's the one true religion, but in other parts of the world decent, honest, hardworking people believe that Hinduism is, or that Islam is, etc.. and they do so with every fiber of their being, some even taking offense to someone lacking that same belief. The same can be said for political affiliations, capitalism vs socialism and conservative vs liberal etc. So are your opinions and views 100% of your own free will if they match only and almost exactly with those around you? It's curious, right? The world and life are far better reached with more information that comes from more of an open mind than not. I learn a little bit more every day. Most of which is a variation of growth in areas that I would have said once I had peaked in. Arrogant I know, and ignorant even more so, but when I learn a thing, I try to aspire in that new direction to the best of my ability. Most are learnings I fight against at first, and none of them are considered backslides at the end, not by any stretch of the imagination. So I read something the other day, along these lines, ~An apocalyptic style pandemic happened and instead of perpetuating self-survival of the fittest, etc, etc, it actually required kindness, patience, and responsibility towards others.~ That shouldn't be a thing to fight against or to be disappointed in. Be super good practice for a lot of us for even after this thing is finally over. You know those of us trying to live as examples, living the change we want to see in the world.                                                                                                                    I still have faith in person(s), but continually feel repulsed by the actions of people(s). Collectives seem to be much worse than individuals and its hard for me to understand why. With that mob mentally you think it would be easier for people to do things they actually know deep in their hearts to be good and righteous, instead of following others in hate or other more negative directions. A brief conversation with a coworker made me 100% realize that it doesn't matter which side of an issue you stand on, such as racism, because without a single doubt both sides know it's wrong to be that way toward people. The true racists and their opposition know that its wrong to treat others differently, or worse based on their race/skin color. It's not much left to ignorance, regardless of whether or not it stemmed from it. It's why so many racists can't be so publically outspoken about their racsim, especially when they aren't with a group of the same. Everyone knows it's an evil. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Period. You'll probably have a really hard time trying to ever convince me otherwise, especially in this day and age. Update, for those interested, on my two oldest boys that I've been trying to help; I'll start by saying this, as some of you already know, I have been bumping heads with the both of them for 2 to 3 months now fairly regularly. I'm not going to go into a lot of detail, but my oldest, oldest and myself just couldn't even come close to getting on the same page. He has since moved out. I haven't heard from him in a few days. I don't know if he's ok really, or if he's even trying to be. I hope against hope that he gets it together sooner rather than later, but accepting that the time frame and severity isn’t up to me, is still a hard-won life lesson that I'm working on. My second oldest and I will be going separate ways very soon as well. The imminent end will be within the coming month I imagine. With boundaries continually broken (by both) no options remain here. I am trying to help him get into some places with people that will help, where I couldn't. Because of the strain on my relationships with each of them, I know that the way I wanted to help them isn't going to work, maybe ever. So it's over. I'm not so naive to think that my way is the only way out there for either of them though, or anyone for that matter. There's plenty of other options still left and available if they're willing to put forth some effort on their own behalf(s). I guess I'd ask for you guys to keep them in your positive thoughts as we move forward. I imagine the initial struggle will be the most difficult for them. If you have relationships, of any kind, with them and you care, maybe reach out with some love and encouragement. More of the rest of their journeys and lives are on them once again. I believe, with 100% of my heart, that we can all learn to grow a little more into love, we can all do a little better, and we can all be a little better tomorrow than we were today. If you think you've reached some pinnacle I assure you that together we can go so much further. Trust me. I've fallen for that old mindset before. If you really search your heart, and your conscience it'll lead you in the right direction. It is our goodnesses that cam and will bring it all back into balance and the more we learn from it the stronger that balance becomes. I will end with reiterating a little of the beginning, in that even though we, as a whole, have a long way yet to go, at least in my opinion, we do still have lots, like shit tons of good, trying, caring people in this world, and even more of those celebratory, feel-good stories to take solace in, and comfort from. It's the very reason to keep moving forward. . . because WE ARE NOT ALONE. They’ll keep coming in too, and those new people who prove we aren't alone in this. The push for kindness and the mission to civilize is a torch to be passed down forever and ever. People like us that try and continually do right by others, and that always try to make as good decisions as we possibly can, are meant to walk as examples, to attract more and more persons to a better feeling side of life. It's not over. It’s never over. So continue to share the love and the laughter with the world around you, and please, please, please be kind to one another.                                           Giving from the heart is easy. Taking from the heart, not so much. That takes a little more practice for most of us. And, of course, Gratitude, which really speaks for itself. Find yours. Until next week; "Empathy without boundaries is self-destruction" - Silvy Khoucasian

[roidespd-blog]

Chapter Twenty-Six : THE + IN LGBTQ+

So here we are. I did the L. I did the G. I did the B. I did the T. L G B T. Done. Oh for fuck’s sake, now what ? What do you mean there’s more letters ?

LGBTTQQIAAPC2 ????? YOU SURE ? I don’t think anyone is at this point.

Okay, let’s make a quick rundown of them all (it’s not like I have a life or something).

Q as in QUEER Nop, I’m keeping this one for the very end as I have a shitload to say. Let’s see.

Another Q ? Oh, okay, I see.

Q as in QUESTIONING  

We ain’t starting with an easy one. Questioning is the period of time a person can go through to sort out the ideas of gender, sexual identity and/or sexual orientation. It is a process of exploration for people not sure of themselves (which is a fair feeling) and uncomfortable with the idea of social queer labels. If you’re looking for a particular branch of people who could fall into that category, look no further than teenagers. At a time when your body is changing, your hormones are showing, and society still doesn’t put forward the idea that being Queer is acceptable, one might feel a great deal of confusion and uncertainty. Kids right now promote the right to sexual fluidity and I think that’s great. I just called them kids. I feel like a grandpa. The concept of sexual fluidity available to someone who doesn’t want to constraint him/her/themself in a subcategory is theoretically extremely healthy for the mind, helping seeing things clearer in the future.

I as in INTERSEX

Well, I’ve already talked a lot about Intersex people in previous articles, as it is so connected in its History to the lives of Transgender people (so read the articles from June 24th on Trans Identity and the June 9th on the differences between Sex, Sexuality and Gender Identity if you’re interested). I’ll do a sum up. Intersex people are individuals born with any of several variation in sex characteristics (chromosomes, sex hormones, genitals) and who do not fit the binary definitions of male or female bodies. Do not use the term “hermaphrodite” because if you do, you’re a hateful asshole. It’s a biological specificity that has long been ignored by the medical and social scene, giving them little to know coverage to actually build a proper gender identity up until recently. There’s a whole campaign right now to stop forced surgeries on Intersex infants as they are treated as wrong doings from nature that should be corrected. They shouldn’t. Binary notions of life has to be corrected. As the same for forced sterilization on transgender people, modifying the sex characteristics of an individual without his/her/them consent is a Human Rights violation. The existence of Intersex people is still not up to date in the world but progress has been made with gender classification on legal documents. Finally, being an Intersex individual does not make you automatically homosexual or bisexual. It’s a gender identity that has nothing to do with sexual orientation, giving to some arguments that they should not be included in our community. Fuck those people. But let’s not forget that as part of our community, we need to make an effort towards you in understanding your identity, include you in general conversations and fight for your individual rights that sometimes have little to no relations to ours. Let’s not repeat the errors of this heterosexual society, please.

A as in ASEXUAL

Good god, so much controversy over that one. Asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction to others, low or absent interest or desire for sexual activity. To make shit clear to everyone, it is considered a sexual orientation, although the primal idea of it is that there’s no sexual orientation to begin with. Although as in every sexuality (or lack of), there are levels and degrees of what being asexual means to someone. The acceptance of Asexuality is relatively new to the scientific community and to the world, mostly since the internet was invented and people started sharing their personal struggles (as they were deemed struggles in the eyes of society). More than any other term, asexuality seems to have a big question mark in the minds of people. Well, as sexual beings mostly driven by our urges, it’s hard to comprehend a world where no of this is part of the day-to-day mental conversation. The Asexual Visibility and Education Network (AVEN) has a great thing to say about the words Asexual : “There is no litmus test to determine if someone is Asexual. Asexuality is like any other identity — at its core, it’s just a word that people use to help figure themselves out. if at any point someone finds the word Asexual useful to describe themselves, we encourage them to use it for as long at it makes sense to do so”. Words of preaching that can be applied to any identity in our supposedly inclusive rainbow. Anyway, it’s a complex question that can go to various scenarios. Someone Asexual might engage in romantic relationships, other might not. They could have sex in order to satisfy their partners, but they probably wouldn’t take any pleasure out of it. Maybe they masturbate, maybe they don’t. The point is — Their sex drive is not our businesses. We don’t need to know what you do in your down time. Labels that can be adopted by Asexual people can also include Aromantic, Biromantic, Heteromantic, Homoromantic, Panromantic — with the acknowledgment of “sexual” orientation but lack of lust towards someone else. See ? There’s also Gray-romantic, Demiromantic, Demisexual, Semisexual, Friend-Focused. Queer people, know that Asexual as their places among our ranks, as their can be subjected to as much vile discriminations if out as the rest of us. More importantly, there’s currently no major legislation focused on Asexuality and no media exposure of any kind.

Another A as in ALLY

Also sometimes known as “SA” for Straight Allies. Usually cisgender heterosexual people who supports equal rights, gender equality, social movements and are in opposition with homophobia, biphobia, transphobia. I don’t have a lot to say about Allies. They’re good. The more we have, the better. Just don’t confuse being open to being an Ally. Being a Ally means make actual changes into your environment towards Equality. It’s not just saying that you have tons of gay friends and “they’re so much fun, I love them!”. Uh uh. It can be activism. It can be protests and articles and petitions and working for LGBT groups. Sure. Do that if you’re into it. I’m not an activist myself. I ain’t gonna judge you if you don’t want to be socially active for us. But you can be an ally by first of all, listen. Not just to us but to all the shit that can come out of your damn mouth that are homophobic and you don’t even realize it. Be ready for being taken back to school, people. Because the struggle is sometimes real. So real that some Queer people don’t want to educate straight people. I’m willing to but only if I feel like the person can really get it. I quickly know if they are or not. Don’t use our reclaimed slurs. Don’t “Guuuurl Okrrrrul Death Drop” us for the sake of comedy. As a gay man, I’m not even sure I can do it myself since it’s been part of the drag world. Yes, cultural appropriation inside the Queer community is a thing. Look it up. Anyway, Ally in the acronym ? hmm, debatable, even for me. Maybe an honorary title on the side ?

C as in CURIOUS

Arf, nop. I don’t agree. Next.

T as in TRANSEXUAL

Already covered the Transexual identity in the June 14th article. Go read this one, sucker.

P as in POLYAMOROUS

The practice of/desire for intimate relationships with more than one partner. Not to be confused with cheating as a polyamorous is made aware by all partners involved. It’s been described as a “consensual, ethical and responsible non-monogamy” philosophy/sexual identity. Those identities are so exciting to talk about. A polyamorous individual believes in an open relationship and rejects the view that sexual and relational exclusivity are necessary for deep, committed, long-term loving relationships. It’s not just about being sexually attracted to other people while in a relationship and acting on it, there’s real values such as love, intimacy, honesty and integrity in the process. Also a healthy  position on non-possessiveness that I admire greatly. Many social factors enter into consideration when it comes to polyamorous identity. The disillusionment with monogamy, illustrated with cheating and divorce from previous generations. A need for independence and equality, sometimes driven in a woman with feminism beliefs. You don’t need a man and you can do your own choices. Be as free as a man has been for thousands of years. Most of all, there’s this belief than human beings are not monogamous to begin with and to impose it on people is madness. The interest thing about polyamorous identity is not really the details of the relationships but the fact that it is not an identity or sexuality per say, but a companion piece to some of them. You can be poly and Straight, Poly and Trans and a Lesbian. Off course, as most of the other categories, it is not widely accepted by society and until recently, rarely talked about. I have a feeling it’s about to change. One of my friends came out to me as polyamorous. I mean, she didn’t actually come out but the fact that she openly talked about it surprised me and then delighted me. Not to be confused with Bigamy, which with being married to multiple partners. Not very common on western countries but forms of judicial recognition of multiple non marital partners are here and there, most notably in parts of the States.

P as in PANSEXUAL

Already did that one at length on the June 20th article on Bisexuality. No need to repeat myself that much.

2 as in TWO-SPIRIT

That one you’ve never heard of. Right ? It is a modern, pan-Indian, umbrella term used by some indigenous North American tribes to describe Native People in their communities who fulfill a third-gender (or other gender — variant) ceremonial role in their cultures. The term was created in 1990 (birth year) in Winnipeg by Lesbian and Gay indigenous gathered for the occasion, as a way to differentiate First Nations people from non-Native Queer Community people. The concept of Two-Spirit has been around for a long, long time but it used to have another name : Berdache. It was thought to be replaced as it is considered outdated and offensive (from the arabic “Bardaj” that means “slave”, the french Berdache that means “passive” and Italian “Bardassa” that means either “young prostitute” or “brat” and primally focuses on transgender folks and not other areas of the now-named Two-Spirit). Two-Spirit is not considered to be the same as being a Gay Native American. Yes, Two-Spirit people can fall in love with people of their same gender, or genderfuck conventions of what it means to be a man or a woman, but it’s way more than that. The term is meant to carry on the traditions of Indigenous people, too broad to explain them all here as each tribe has their own little definitions of what a Two-Spirit individual is. For more comprehensive information, you can watch Lydia Nibley’s 2009 documentary feature called Two Sprits. It focused on the murder of 16 year-old Navajo Fred Martinez, described by his mother as “nadleeh” or “half woman, half man”. But careful, it doesn’t mean exactly what you think it means.

And finally Q as in QUEER

This one’s easy. It’s us all. It’s an umbrella term to represent anyone in the Queer community. We’re a lot of categorized minorities in need of regroupment and that’s the easiest way to do it. I actually love the word Queer. It’s just an empowering word due its directness and History. It appeared around the 16th Century to talk about things that are “strange”, “odd”, “peculiar”, “eccentric”. Perfect fit. It later implied a feeling of suspicion and unwellness. It took 300 years for the word to get use in a pejorative way towards sexual differences. It was that or “invert”. Both are extremely fun. For almost a century, being called “Queer” was probably the worst. Well, Faggot isn’t a good one either but you get my drift. In the late 80s, the word started to be reclaimed as a neutral or positive self-identity by LGBTQ+ people. An activist organization to fight anti-gay violence called Queer Nation was created in 1990 (birth year, AGAIN!). I believe it to be still active and alive in some capacity somewhere in America. It also seemed important at the time to find a word that wasn’t so narrow in scope (as “Gay” is) and as the AIDS Epidemic was baptized “The Gay Cancer”, we were truly in need of a rebranding intervention. But that rebranding didn’t came without its challenges. With a new name came a new attitude, one that rejected the principles of assimilation into heteronormative society. The idea of marriage, adoption, service were banned from what was known the Queer movement in the 90s (while the “Gay” movement was still very much alive and willing to find new rights to Queer people). I didn’t live through this and I only have my perception of the word. I know some of y’all reject that term as you deem it offensive and self-deprecating. Some of you don’t appreciate the political vibe it brought to the community and the divide in ideas that followed. I only know that we cannot keep adding letters to our acronym. Ain’t nobody got time to say all those letters. We need to compromise, people. Yes, it’s a bad word. Now, it’s OURS. Being gay is political. They MADE IT political by beating us, torturing us, arresting us, killing us. They wanted to insult us. We take it and we roll with it with Pride.

So, are we good now ? Have I covered them all ?

Nop, I forgot to talk about Gender-Fluid, Non-Binary people (or Gender Queer), Bigender, Trigender, Pangender. Androgyne. Gender Bender. Third Gender. Androsexual, Gynephilia, Transvestite…

Time for you to make your own damn research. I still have four more articles to right and just so you know, I won’t use the term “LGBTQ+” anymore. I’ll say Queer as nothing else as of now. Position cleared.

[dead-asss]

Emoji Asks

🐰 what is one secret that you’ve never told anyone? i dont really have any that ive never told anyone ?

💗 if you could hug anyone, who would it be? my damn self. that bitch deserves a hug

🐹 what are some of your favourite Pokémon and why? Raikou ultimately, because the uniqueness and individuality it embodies. Sylveon for mostly same reasons

🌠 if you were in charge of the world, what would the world look like? gay probably

👀 what was the most recent vivid dream that you had? i havent dreamt recently enough for me to remember anything

☀️ what do you like the most about your best friend? she’s always willing to support me and give me answers 

😘 talk about your crush or partner: pass lol

💁 if someone was rude to you, would you be rude back? only if they were someone in which deserved it ?? 

🌟 what do you like about yourself? (must choose at least 3 things!): my style, my individuality, and my so-called “evolved” mentality

🐾 what are you scared of most? how will you overcome it? rejection and abandonment, and as i went through it recently, i overcome it by occupying myself with things that make me feel like im a valuable, worthwhile human being

🎁 what never fails to make you happy? listening to music i like or online shopping/browsing 

💙 what annoys you about some people? incompetence or inability to work well with others despite differences

😤 do you get angry easily? if youre someone i value then no but if youre someone i rarely talk to or dont know that well then yeah

🐇 what do you always daydream about? myself in the future, who i’ll be with and what i’ll be doing, whether im successful or not

🌻 if you could change 3 things about the world what would you change?  overall disputes with views on current issues, more quiet places, less stealing and robbery

✈️ what is your dream city and why? San Francisco or Los Angeles, mostly because every time I’ve visited each I feel a connection with the atmosphere there

☕️ talk about your ideal day: waking up at 7am, taking a shower, grabbing starbucks, drawing something amazing, watching a favorite movie, going shopping with my friends, and going to bed with comfy fluffy blankets

🌸 are you an introvert, ambivert or extrovert? ambivery but i lean towards extrovery mostly because im not too shy around anyone anymore

💧 when was the last time you cried? yesterday bc my stepmom stole 60$ from me (:

🎵 name 5 songs you love at the moment: Rooting for My Baby- Miley Cyrus, Dirty Sexy Money- The Struts, You Have a Hold on My Heat- RVR, and That’s What I Like- Bruno Mars

⚡️ if you had any superpower, what would it be and why? shape-shifting, because i find it interesting how you could be multiple things and change into others at will

💛 if you could talk to your younger self, what would you say? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD COME TO TERMS WITH YOUR SEXUALITY

💚 who are you jealous of and why? anyone who has rly good makeup and a lot of it because... pls

💎 which one would you rather have more of: intelligence, beauty, kindness, wealth or bravery? why? bravery, because thats something id say i lack a lot and probably wouldve helped me in the past 

🙊 what are you ashamed of? my family 

🌺 which languages do you know? which do you want to learn? i know english and spanish but learning french sounds ight

🍀 if you could be any fictional character’s best friend/lover, which fictional character would you be? Augustus Waters mostly bc he seemed so awesome to be around and just an overall good influence on mood

☁️ talk about your dream universe. basically something aesthetically out of vaporwave that sounds so cool ( i hate vaporwave music though please spare me)

💜 which acts of kindness are you going to do today?  i cleaned my house so there u go 

🐬 if you could transform into any animal/magical creature, what would you be and why? a rly fat orange cat, bc i love orange cats and being a fat lazy cat just sounds so awesome. no responsibilities (,:

🍄 talk about someone/something you really dislike: i fucking HATE when people think they can walk all over me or just say something to get me to shut up. like, honestly im stronger than that

😣 talk about some things that have been making you depressed/angry/anxious lately: my future, even though i daydream about it a lot it scares me to think it could all be something i never wanted or not something that will help me achieve my dream

🍪 what did you want to be as a kid, and what do you want to be now? i wanted to be a teacher up until middle school, but now i want to be some sort of artist (maybe work for cartoon network or produce designs for cartoon characters?)

🍰 what are some of your favourite sugary foods? i LOVE ice cream and chocolate covered pretzels. lollipops too 

🍑 what are you obsessed with? The Weeknd and what whole dark glowy aesthetic, but also the rosy, gold aesthetic. I also love sailor moon and some animes

💘 what happens to you when you’re stressed? i break down almost? not that badly, but i fear that ill never get the work done or what i have to do is too overwhelming 

😪 what are you sick of? being treated like nothing less than shit by my own family

🙀 are you an adrenaline seeker? in some ways yes but i wouldnt do certain things to feel adrenaline (sky diving, bungee jumping, rollercoasters)

💥 what are some unpopular opinions that you have? i like miley cyrus’ new music (some-most of it), cold is better than warm, ugly, conceptual art is better than pretty, flat art

☔️ would you consider yourself a good person? in most aspects yes, but i do see myself become a bad person at times 

😊 what do you like to do as hobbies? i mostly draw i guess

🎤 what’s the last song you hummed or sang by yourself? i dont believe you by p!nk

🐝 what’s your worst trait? how are you planning to improve it? i am the WORST at explaining or venting my feelings, mostly because theyre just hard to describe and when i do i feel them so strongly theres nothing to do but feel them rather than talk about them

🎨 what do you always doodle when you’re bored? eyes and little cats or characters

🐻 what’s stopping you from chasing your dreams? the fear of ruining my school career 

🌷 what’s your mbti personality and why do you think it suits you? enfp????? i think it perfectly describes me because im extroverted and feeling as heck

👑 who are your favourite celebrities and why? Dakota Blue Richards (shes beautiful and just all around a great person id like her to b my gf), Abel Tesfaye (The Weeknd, he’s such an awesome person and he makes even better music)

🍋 do you consider yourself an emotional person? ABSOLUTELY. i get super happy then super sad and i always am sympathetic and empathetic, i dont cry at movies/books tho ?

😔 what do you always do when you feel sad? does it help? i listen to sad music when im sad, and if i find a song that i actually like ill start listening to songs i like and i usually feel better

😌 what thoughts keep you going when you’re sad? that better things will come and that im a person that is so different from anyone else 

🌍 which country do you live in? america 

🐧 describe yourself in 3 words: emotional, generous, creative

💭 do you keep a diary? i did when i was younger but i feel like i should

💫 who inspires you? my friends 

👻 do you believe in ghosts and why? i somewhat do but not the possess, evil type. just roamin in the afterlife ??

🎀 what’s your fashion sense like? i dont have any specific taste but i do like color blocking and windbreakers, along w embroidered pants and boots

🎬 what are some of your favourite films? Big Eyes, Kill Bill Vol. 1+2, Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, and Burlesque 

🍦 what is one treasured childhood memory? my dad taking me to preschool one day and i had headphones on watching spongebob and i had a hot chocolate in my carseat cupholder. the life tbh

🐱 what’s your dream pet like? a big fat cat that just lays with me and is basically my partner in crime, or a huge dog that is playful and also fluffy

🐼 if you could meet anyone, who would it be? Nicki Minaj because I bet she’s so good to be around