#told me that he wanted any conversations we had to be public on Facebook

[scoobydooisadetective]

Hi. I just wanted to ask if it's possible for you guys to post the English translation of the Spanish posts? Tumblr doesn't have the translation option like X or Facebook

Hi! I'm guessing you're speaking about this post. Sure, no problem. I think it's relevant for everyone to know how long he has been in these kind of situations. I'll try to do my best w/ translation and offer some context.

Luz said in her post:

"I don't have a Twitter, I consider it an intolerant and racist world, this is the social network where Tenoch has the most bots against him, he receives a lot of hate and they generate that hate. But yesterday in a group they sent this picture, it's a publication about a radio host saying Tenoch apologized to him for being a person "without education and without ethics" according to his words.

(In the tweet: I share with you the picture when #TenochHuerta apologized to me for behaving as an uneducated being, without ethics and as the chairo without words he has always been. If I had known, I would've charged $1,800...

Note: Chairo doesn't have a translation, but it's basically derogatory way to to describe an individual who holds a far-left ideology, specifically any person who thoughtlessly defends, idolizes, and fawns over a populist politician and demagogue with an attitude similar to that of a religious fanatic.)

I thought it was weird and I found a publication made by the director Alonso Ruizapalacios in 2015 where he explains what happened that day

(full text here: https://www.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid02fkKp1ZGWvpcweaavk8e13ke4HQj2k616EPv75JrrExeEB49DUGPL7m31WJzGDqqil&id=1369494912&mibextid=Nif5oz)

"COMMERCIAL BREAK!

A few hours ago, me and Tenoch Huerta went to promote our movie GÜEROS at the radio show "Charros vs Gángsters", hosted by Jairo Calixto and some José Luis Guzmán "Miyagi" (I confess I didn't know about him until today).

Since we arrived at MVS Radio in Polanco, we saw patrols and riot policeman surrounding the radio station and preventing the production van from passing through. The driver suggested it was "because of that reporter that they are going to fire."

Despite this rarefied atmosphere, the inteview about the movie went like most interviews in radio and TV he (Tenoch) helped with in Mexico: wih cordiality, but with simple and unexciting (no preparation), but overall with the hysteria that characterizes a large amout of the communicators in our country - a kind of perpetual nervousness about not leaving even a moment of pause, to "fill the air" with whatever, with an incessant strident chatter that passes for irreverence and freshness. Despite that, we promoted our move without problem, between jokes about the Partido Verde and bestiality.

At the end of our interview, Tenoch took the floor and said: "Before we leave, I'd like to comment something in a personal capacity, I think it's necessary to have dialog to clarify the situation about the communicator Cármen Aristegui and her firing from this radio station." In that moment "Miyagi", who had not heard a single word about Güeros nor had he looked up from his iPad during our entire conversation, ordered: "Let's go on commercial break!" and it was obeyed immediately in the cabin. After a awkward painful silence, Tenoch and I realized we had finished. After a painfully awkward silence, Tenoch and I realized that we were done. We approached to say goodbye to our hosts, who barely shook our hands, without looking us in the eyes. But before leaving Miyagi told us: “We opened the microphones for something else, not so that you could continue with that…” To which Tenoch responded “We just want to know what is happening with Aristegui.” And nothing else was said.

We went out of the MVS with our heads spinning aournd, trying to understand what had just happened. And we still continue to not understand...

My interpretation: We're still trapped in this climate where communicators -even those who brag about being irreverent- fear (maybe justifiably) about their continuity in the enterprises that pay their salary. We're still living in a climate of very litte solidarity and a lot of intolerance.

Maybe "Miyagi" simply made a mistake and acted on impulse, a byproudct of the frustration from reading trolls against him since he didn't defend Cármen Aristegui. Or maybe the sushi upsetted his stomach... But what he did was censorship, it's indisputable. Turning your back on such a valid and relevant question and go on commercial break when things get awkward, in true Televisa style, was something surprising to witness live.

I don't have information to venture an absolute theory about all of this, nor to affirm that it is censorship that comes from above, or if it's rather self-censorship, a product of fear. But that there's something rotten in Denmark, I have no doubt.

While I appreciate the space that was opened to talk about our film, I deeply regret the continuation of this state of fear we live in.

I'm sorry that our communicators don't look at us in the eyes. I'm sorry there's no room for pauses. And I'm sorry there's no time to listen.

Context on who is this journalist and why this happened:

On 12 March 2015, two journalists from MVS, Daniel Lizárraga and Irving Huerta, were fired after they used the station's brand name without permission in a newly created website known as MexicoLeaks, which leaked reports on government corruption. Aristegui issued an ultimatum and threaten to quit if MVS did not reinstate her two staff members. Four days later, MVS fired Aristegui after considering that she had crossed the line for issuing an ultimatum to the MVS management.

My friend Tenoch says: My name is José Tenoch Huerta Mejía, mexican.

I love who I am, where I live and with who I live.

I don't like what's going on in my country, it's not the country I grew up in, nor the one I want to live in.

I don't understand a lot of things and as many more I'm scared about what we're living.

It hurts my soul to know that thousands are no longer hugging their families when their time had not yet come.

I wonder what's up, what can I do so everyone can be alright, the truth is I don't know but I decided to talk and ask.

I have nothing against any politician or people in power, I just want a different country.

I don't want one where we're all poor to be equals, but one where we're rich at heart, pockets and tummy to decide what to do with our time in this land.

Yersterday I asked something I needed to know, the mic was open and I asked.

Today, someone went to my house, intimidated me while hiding their face behind a brown scarf and a newspaper. They took photos of me, laughed mockingly at me and then disappeared into the hallways of the place where I live and have called home the last four years of my life.

What did I do wrong? Ask, say that I don't like any of this, thinking that we could have a better life, think?

A lot of people supports and helps me, but what about those that don't have the fortune to be visible?

I write this and I cry because I don't want to live like this, we don't deserve to live like this.

Mexico hurts my guts.

My little corner on land that gives me food and air to breath, that gives me a house and family.

I love my country, I love my people and even you, who doesn't understand we can live in a better way.

Thank you for your support, for being there and might our voices and hearts always sing.

We deserve something better.

Then, Luz adds:

What really happened was that exactly 8 years ago, in that booth, there was no freedom of speech, Tenoch tried to speak about a topic and was quickly cut off. Another account later shared that Tenoch had reported that he was being followed and photographed.

What I'm trying to say is that they have always hated him for telling them to their faces what he thinks about some topic and that makes them angry, they "can't stand it." Now that he is doing a little better, they are trying by all means to ruin his career. Tenoch himself has mentioned it in many interviews, and they have paid the media to destroy him.

I think we have to be careful, those media and haters are always aware of all the publications about him and if it is something controversial they can manipulate, they will do it, have no doubt about that, even if it is from years ago.

Do not react, do not comment or retweet, only report the publication if it has racist content. Never try to talk to them, it's not worth it. (Personal note: Please listen to this!! Especially twitter folks, since it might be counterproductive. By fighting them, you're offering them more interactions because that's how the algorithm works).

---

Hope this helped!

[ahnsael]

Lat night at work was rough.

I was down a security guard (on drop night, when we empty the cash from the slot machines), the only other employee was a new hire, and for the first time that I can remember we had double-digit crowds through the process (for our place, at 3:30-5am, that’s a lot). And it didn’t help that the people kept jumping around to different machines that we had already opened for the drop team to empty, closing them up themselves (they’re regular enough gamblers that they know which machines they can close without a key), and playing them without us knowing. At least one machine’s count will be off because they played it after the meters had been read and we didn’t know it until it was too late.

On top of having to be the security guard guarding the cart, I was also a cashier, the floor manager, and the bartender (but since I was guarding the cart that the money is placed on, the bar essentially closed when the drop process started -- I had to tell everyone that asked for a drink that it was just not possible under the circumstances).

Next week, my schedule (as well as the schedule of the other graveyard manager) changes, so they will be bartending on drop nights and I can be free to handle the drop, and also so that I will be there Thursday night/Friday morning to do payroll.

But I told the new hire that she did an amazing job -- because she really did. She doesn’t know enough to handle the floor on her own right now, but I was close enough, when she had issues, to shout direction to her while I guarded the money. At the end, I told her that Graveyard just finds a way to make things work, and that she DEFINITELY did her part in that. I’m proud of her, and wanted to make sure she knew that (especially since when she came in, she broke down crying in the office due to a nasty custody battle involving her kids, and the swing shift manager called me in to hear her out so I knew what kind of day she had, but she was able to put it aside for the night and do some fantastic work under great personal stress).

This one is a keeper as an employee if she can hang like she did last night. And the custody battle involves the baby-daddy not dropping the kids off at the court-appointed time (two weeks with dad, two weeks with mom, rinse and repeat), and she thinks he’s trying to keep her from her kids. It’s a sad situation.

It made me think of my mom’s divorce with bio-dad. But in that case, they just asked each of us kids who they wanted to live with, and then told the judge our decision, and that’s how it was. I saw my bio-dad once or twice a month by being put on an airport shuttle from LAX to Santa Barbara for a while, until I was about 12 years old (about five or six years after the divorce) and he seemed to lose interest in seeing me. Because my mom thought it was important for me to still have a relationship with him (long-time followers know what a disaster that turned out to be for me -- if you didn’t follow me years ago when I told that story and are curious send me an ask and I’ll respond privately).

But her situation is different. And I feel for her. And she was an absolute trooper to work last night/this morning after what she went through yesterday.

Oh, and our three-day/week bartender has cancer, and starts chemo next month. So I don’t know whether he’ll be at work or not (I am not familiar with chemotherapy’s effects other than hair loss, and he says it will be five days/week for eight-nine weeks, so we may be down someone else soon -- which is okay; as I said, Graveyard finds ways to make things work -- but I’m worried about the guy, and obviously more worried about his health than I am about being short-handed). He told me he was going to be having radiation treatments, but didn’t say whether or not he’d be gone. Maybe someone with more knowledge can enlighten me on the odds, since I’ve never dealt with this on a personal level before (with my bio-dad, I wouldn’t consider it personal -- and he refused chemo because he figured that if he prayed hard enough, God would miracle him better).

I think I’ve told this story before (I used to call it a “joke,” but the more I think of my bio-dad putting it into action (even though he’s the one who told me this “joke” in the first place), but maybe it bears repeating:

A man is in a flood zone, and the water is rising. He resorts to climbing onto his roof to get out of the rushing water.

A rescue boat comes by, and the people in the boat urge the man to get in. “We can get you to land and to safety, just get in the boat.”

And the man says, “No, go help someone else. I have faith that God will save me.”

The boat pilot argues for a short time, but figures it’s a losing battle, and moves on to save other people while there’s still time.

About a half an hour later, the man is on top of his roof, and the water is at his ankles. The boat comes back. “The water’s rising, and you need to get into this boat so we can get you to safety!”

And again the man says, “Go help other people. I’ll be okay. God will save me.” The boat pilot doesn’t put much into his argument this time -- he knows there are people who still need to be saved who will be at risk if he spends too much time on this stubborn person.

Another 20 minutes goes by, and everyone else has been rescued. And the boat returns to the man’s house. The water is almost up to his knees, and he is struggling to keep his footing. “For the last time, man, get in this boat! We can save you, but if you refuse us this time, the water will be too rough for us to come back again to try to get you.”

“No, get yourselves to safety. God will save me.”

So, needless to say, the waters continue to rise and the man gets swept away in the floodwaters and drowns. After he dies, he goes to St. Peter’s Gate, and requests an audience with God. St. Peter says “This is very irregular, but after the story you just told me, I will see what I can do.”

St. Peter consults with God and God grants the man an audience. The man says to God, “God, I was a faithful man. I was SO sure that you were going to save me, and that I didn’t need the help of man. Why did you forsake me?”

God sighed, and looked at the guy, and said, “Man I sent that boat for you THREE TIMES. Don’t blame me that you were too stupid to get in.”

[dadbodosamu]

only you || part v

Stepdad!Osamu x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: spit, semi-public sex, alcohol, oral (f+m receiving), male masturbation, female masturbation, daddy kink, breeding kink, squirting, hair pulling, cum eating

5.6k words

part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi || extras || only you, too

“Can’t I just stay the night?” Atsumu groaned as he got dressed.

“We’re going out tonight,” Osamu said, throwing Atsumu’s shirt at him.

You rolled over in the bed, pulling the blanket over your nude form. You propped yourself up on your elbow, appreciating Osamu’s strong body as he pulled his boxers up.

“Good morning, baby,” Osamu said, smiling as he leaned down to peck your lips.

“Mmm, morning,” you hummed. “What time is it?”

“Five in the afternoon,” he said. “You only slept for a few hours.”

You nodded, stretching out and yawning. “I’m going to shower,” you mumbled, sitting up.

You looked at Atsumu, who was still standing in your room.

“What?” He asked, finally noticing you staring at him.

“Get out,” you said, gesturing towards the door.

“Like I wasn’t just balls deep in yer pussy,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and walking out.

“Like you didn’t nearly cum in your pants while I choked you!” You called after him. You smiled as you heard him grumbling from the hallway.

“Ya okay?” Osamu asked.

You shrugged as you stood up on wobbly legs. “A little sore.”

You took a step towards your bathroom and your knees buckled. Thankfully, Osamu managed to grab your waist before you could fall.

“Let me help ya,” he said, holding you steady as you shakily walked to the bathroom. He sat you on the edge of the tub as he started the shower.

“I’ve got it from here,” you said. Your legs shook as you stood up but they stayed under you.

“Call if ya need me,” Osamu said, helping you into the shower.

You showered quickly. You brushed your teeth and fixed your hair before joining the twins in the living room.

“You never said where we were going tonight,” you said, curling up by Osamu on the couch. “How should I dress?”

“Casual,” he said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer. “What you’re wearing now is fine.”

You glanced down at the sundress you were wearing. It was longer than your other one, so it already had Osamu’s stamp of approval.

You nodded and rested your head on his shoulder.

“We’re getting dinner? Great, where are we going?” Atsumu asked, plopping down next to you.

“We’re getting dinner and yer goin’ home,” Osamu said.

“Worth a try,” Atsumu said, shrugging. “Kiss goodbye?”

“I’m gonna kick yer ass,” Osamu said. Atsumu stood with a smirk.

“Not even a lil one?” Atsumu said. You smiled and stood up, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t forget to cover that bruise on your throat,” you said, sitting back down. Atsumu whipped out his phone, swearing loudly when he saw the hand-shaped bruise across his neck.

“Damn it, what am I supposed to tell the boys?” Atsumu asked.

You shrugged as you cuddled into Osamu’s side.

“That you like getting choked by cute girls?” You suggested. “Nothing to be ashamed of.”

Atsumu groaned out a goodbye as he left.

Osamu pulled you into his lap and peppered kisses on your face as you giggled.

“Not that I don’t like it, but what was that for?” You asked, smiling after he kissed your lips.

“What, I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” Osamu asked, kissing your nose again. “Just wanna remind ya who ya belong to.”

“Never forgot,” you said, pecking his lips. “Need I remind you whose name I was moaning the whole time?”

You cupped his face and peppered him with kisses. “I love you, Miya Osamu.”

“I love ya,” Osamu said, kissing your lips one more time. “Let me go get dressed and we can go eat.”

“I guess I can let you go,” you said, moving off his lap. You laid on the couch, watching him walk down the hallway.

You checked your phone, responding to a few messages from your school friends and checking your socials. As expected, your mom’s ‘it’s complicated’ status had garnered a lot of attention. Comments ranging from ‘oh, i’m sorry sweetie’ to ‘i never liked him anyway’ to, to your joy, ‘he was too young for you anyway, don’t you have a daughter his age?’.

You cackled as you scrolled through the comments. Your mom had even responded to some, stating ‘he knows what he did’. You rolled your eyes and closed your facebook.

“Ready?” Osamu asked, stepping in front of you.

“When you are,” you said.

The restaurant was small and cozy, with the scent of fresh bread filling the air. You smiled as Osamu led you to a table in a secluded corner, pulling out your seat for you before sitting across from you.

“Everything here is fantastic,” Osamu said as you read over the menu. “My friend from uni runs this place, he’s almost a better chef than I am.”

“Almost?” You questioned. “So humble, Osamu.”

“Miya-kun!” A man exclaimed, rushing towards your table.

“Takahashi-kun,” Osamu greeted, smiling at the man.

“It’s been a while!” Takahashi said. “This the wife?”

You winced.

“Ah, not yet,” Osamu said. “I’m actually in the process of getting a divorce. This is my girlfriend, L/n Y/n.”

You smiled widely. “Hi, nice to meet you,” you said.

“Nice to meet you! It’s nice that you managed to get Miya to drag you out here, he rarely makes time to come visit his old friends,” Takahashi said. “I think I met the wife once? Maybe twice.”

“I have my own restaurant to run,” Osamu said. Takahashi rolled his eyes. “You can also visit me.”

“I have my own restaurant to run,” Takahashi said with a small laugh. “Speaking of, what can I start you off with?”

Your food came out quickly. Takahashi made polite conversation before leaving you two by yourselves.

“So, tell me about your childhood,” you said. “I feel like we only ever talk about me.”

“What do ya wanna know?” Osamu asked, taking a bite of his rice.

“What are your parents like?” You asked.

“My ma raised us alone,” Osamu said. He smiled before continuing. “Our dad wasn’t that great, he left when we were still babies.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said.

Osamu shrugged. “He wasn’t a great guy, anyway. Leaving was probably the best thing he ever did for us. He used to abuse my ma. He tried to come back when Tsumu and I were in high school, but we ran him off.”

“Ran him off?” You asked.

“He got a lil too hands-on with ma, and Tsumu and I kicked his ass out the door and told him not to come back,” Osamu said. “And that was the last time we saw him.”

You hummed. “Good for you, then.”

“But yeah, ma raised us by herself, never remarried or anything. She worked two jobs just to support us and put us through volleyball,” Osamu said. “But she never missed a game.”

“She sounds great,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.

“She is,” Osamu said, smiling fondly. “I can’t wait for ya to meet her.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said, smiling. “Tell me something else, I want to know everything.”

Osamu smiled at you before reaching across the table and grabbing your free hand.

“Tsumu and I have always been really competitive,” Osamu started. You smiled at him as he spoke.

“I really enjoyed the food,” you told Takahashi as he cleared off your table. “And thank you for the dessert, it was amazing.

“Anything for a friend!” Takahashi exclaimed, stacking the two empty plates in his hands. “And don’t worry about the bill, consider it on the house.”

“I owe you one,” Osamu said.

“I’ll take salted salmon onigiri and your miso soup any day of the week,” Takahashi said, smiling widely. “It was nice meeting you, and Miya-kun, it was nice seeing you again. Don’t be a stranger!”

“I’ll try to come by more often,” Osamu said. You both stood after Takahashi disappeared into the kitchen. Osamu grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the restaurant.

“That was nice,” you said, swinging yours and Osamu’s arms.

“It was,” Osamu agreed. “What do ya want to do now?”

“I don’t know, do you have anything in mind?” You asked.

“There’s a club I like that’s not too far from here,” Osamu said.

“That sounds fun,” you said, smiling. “You’re buying the first round of drinks.”

“Deal,” Osamu said. He stopped abruptly, tugging you into his chest and leaning down. “I love ya.” He pecked your lips.

“You keep saying that like the world’ll end if you don’t,” you teased, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him again.

“Jus’ don’t want ya to forget,” Osamu mumbled. “Gotta remind ya.”

“I think it’s sweet,” you said. You intertwined your fingers with his and brought his hand up to your lips. “I love you, too.”

You smiled as Osamu handed you a glass.

“One vodka cran for my princess,” he said, sliding into the booth next to you.

“Thank you,” you said. You took a sip of your drink and made a face. “A little light on the cran.”

“Lightweight,” Osamu teased. He tossed back his glass of whiskey and shivered. “Ugh.”

“Lightweight,” you mocked, elbowing his side. You downed your drink. “Dance with me?”

“Of course, anything my princess wants,” Osamu said. He pulled you out of the booth and onto the dance floor.

Osamu’s hands rested on your hips as you ground against him. It wasn’t long before Osamu was turning you around, pulling you against his body as his hips moved to the beat. Your bodies moved together, grinding and bumping against each other as the two of you felt the rhythm.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to face you.

“Ya look like a goddess,” Osamu breathed in your ear. “Every guy in this club has his eyes on ya.”

You let out a shaky moan as Osamu’s hips dragged against yours.

“Come on,” Osamu mumbled, pulling you through the dancing bodies.

Osamu led you into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. He sat you on the edge of the sink, lips slotting against yours sloppily.

“Samu,” you said, running your hands up his shirt as he pushed your dress up around your waist. “Wanna feel you.”

“Later, princess,” he said, pushing his jeans down just enough to release his cock. “Gotta be in ya.”

He tugged your panties to the side and pressed the head of his cock flush against your entrance.

“I love ya,” he said, pecking your lips before pushing into you. You let out a high moan as he stretched you.

“Gen-gentle,” you stuttered. “Still sore from earlier.”

“Oh, princess, I got ya,” Osamu said, tip kissing your cervix. He held you tightly against him as he slowly thrusted into you. You moaned softly as you rested your head against his chest.

“Love ya so much, jus’ wanna fill ya with my babies,” Osamu said. You moaned, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him in deeper.

“Love you,” you moaned, kissing his neck. Osamu reached between you and rubbed your clit slowly, in time with his thrusts.

“Not gonna last,” he groaned. The fingers on your clit sped up. “Cream around my cock, princess.”

Your hands clenched in Osamu’s shirt as your stomach tightens. Your thighs trembled as you moaned in his ear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Osamu groaned. His cock twitched as your walls clamped around him. You came with a soft moan, burying your face in his neck as Osamu filled you with cum.

“Samu,” you whined as he pulled out. A mix of yours and his cum slowly leaked out of your stretched hole.

“Hold on,” Osamu said, kneeling in front of you. He tossed your legs over his shoulders and licked a bold stripe up your cum coated folds.

“Osamu!” You exclaimed, legs twitching as his tongue licked deep into your hole. You moaned as he ate you out like a man starved, slurping up cum and spreading your pussy lips with his fingers to lick deeper.

“Taste so good with my cum leakin’ outta ya,” Osamu moaned. He stood up and kissed you, pushing cum into your waiting mouth. You moaned and swallowed instinctively.

You hummed and kissed him again. “Mmm, thank you,” you mumbled against his lips.

“Come on, I’m about ready to get ya outta that dress,” Osamu said, lifting you off the sink. Your legs shook as you stood up, and Osamu wrapped his arm around you to keep you steady.

“Let’s go home,” you said, smiling at him.

“Baby, no,” Osamu groaned as you sat up in your bed. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back down against his chest.

“We’re supposed to meet the boys in an hour,” you said, struggling to escape Osamu’s iron grip around you. “I need to shower and get my stuff together.”

“Can’t we just cancel?” Osamu asked, holding you tighter. “Just, I wanna spend the day with ya. We can do whatever ya want.”

“Baby, we still have three free days before my mom gets back,” you said. “Let’s just go play this game and then we can come back home and spend the rest of the day in bed.”

Osamu pouted but let you go.

“Thank you,” you said, crawling over him. You pecked his lips before you rolled out of bed. “Come shower with me?”

Osamu was up immediately, following you to your bathroom.

Your shower lasted longer than it should’ve, thanks to Osamu. As soon as the water hit your body, his lips were glued to your skin, his hands on your waist. Before you knew it, you were pressed against the cool, shower wall as he fucked you from behind.

“We’re gonna be late,” you complained as you got dressed.

“Didn’t hear ya complainin’ when ya were cummin’ ‘round my cock, princess,” Osamu said, kissing your head.

You swatted him away, glaring at him.

“You’re insatiable,” you grumbled, tossing a pair of black spandex shorts in your gym bag.

“I’ll show ya insatiable,” he said, hugging you from behind. His hand slipped down the front of your skirt, teasing the edge of your panties as he sucked on your neck.

“Samu, no,” you said, making no move to push him off. You bucked against his hand as his fingers circled your clit.

“Come on, baby,” Osamu mumbled, lips pressed against your skin. “Let me make ya cum one more time.”

You huffed. “Five minutes, then we’re leaving.”

“More than enough.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto exclaimed, hugging you tightly as you walked onto the court.

“Bokkun!” You exclaimed, smiling widely as he spun you around.

“Y/n-chan!” Hinata exclaimed, hugging you as soon as Bokuto sat you down.

“My favourite niece!” Atsumu shouted, running across the court to greet you. Sakusa followed after him, offering you a casual nod as Atsumu hugged you.

“I might as well not even be here,” Osamu said, crossing his arms.

“Osamu-kun!” Hinata exclaimed, throwing himself at the man. Osamu immediately caught him, and tossed him back on his feet.

“Just a hello would’ve been fine,” Osamu said.

You giggled as he walked over to you, gluing himself to your side.

“Let us go change and we can get started,” you said.

“Locker rooms are that way,” Sakusa said, pointing towards the end of the gym. “Hope you don’t mind using the men’s, the women’s is locked up today.”

“It’s fine,” you said, shrugging. You followed Osamu into the locker rooms and changed quickly.

“Hey,” Osamu called before you could walk out. You turned towards him. “I love ya.” He pecked your lips before following you out of the locker rooms.

“Okay, let’s play!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands together.

Hinata whooped loudly as he jogged towards you.

“We’re gonna crush them!” He exclaimed. Bokuto high fived you both as Osamu joined Atsumu and Sakusa.

“Let’s warm up first,” you said, smiling.

You stretched out, rolling your shoulders before getting into position. You set a few balls for both boys before Sakusa called for the game to start.

The game lasted five sets, your team winning three of them. After Hinata scored the last point, Bokuto pulled you into a tight hug, spinning you around.

“Aha! Suck it!” You shouted once Bokuto put you down. Atsumu flipped you off, smiling regardless.

“We let you win,” Osamu said, ducking under the net. You rolled your eyes as he pulled you into a hug.

“Oh, sure,” you said.

“No hugging the enemy!” Atsumu exclaimed. Sakusa slapped him on the back of the head before hugging you quickly.

“You’re good, probably better than Atsumu,” Sakusa said. You smiled widely.

“Thanks,” you said as Osamu wrapped his arm around your waist. Bokuto and Hinata both gave you a look.

“I have something to tell ya,” Osamu said. You cocked an eyebrow as you looked up at him. “M/n and I are getting a divorce.”

“Finally,” Bokuto groaned. “I couldn’t take her hitting on me every time we saw each other.”

“So, you’re with her daughter now?” Sakusa asked. Your face heated up as Osamu nodded.

“And this isn’t just you trying to get back at her for trying to sleep with us?” Sakusa asked.

“No, I love Y/n,” Osamu said, glancing down at you with a smile.

“And I love you,” you said.

“As sweet as that is, isn’t it a little fast?” Sakusa asked.

“Probably,” you said. “But who cares? My mom’ll probably be remarried by the end of the year.”

“We know the relationship is a little taboo,” Osamu said, “but we just can’t help it.”

“Pay up,” Hinata said, grinning widely as he held his hand out to Bokuto.

“Fuck you,” Bokuto grumbled, handing a bill over to Hinata.

“What exactly did you two bet on?” You asked.

“When you two would get together,” Hinata said. “Bokuto-kun bet it would be the next time you visited.”

“Should’ve known Osamu-kun would move fast,” Bokuto said, hair drooping.

“Atsumu obviously already knew,” Sakusa said. Atsumu smiled widely.

“It’s a twin thing,” he said.

“Shut up, you literally caught us,” you said, shoving the blond twin.

“But it was my twin senses which led me to catching you,” Atsumu said. You rolled your eyes.

“Anyway, lunch?” You asked.

“Baby, you promised,” Osamu groaned as you sat up in bed.

“Promised what?” You asked, stretching your arms out.

“We could spend one of our days in bed,” Osamu said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you back down.

“One, I never promised that,” you said. “And two, I need to pee. Then I’ll come right back to bed.”

“Fine,” Osamu said, pouting. He released you from his hold. You hopped up and walked to the bathroom. You showered quickly and brushed your teeth before redressing in your pajamas (Osamu’s t-shirt and a pair of his boxers).

“Ya take too long,” Osamu grumbled as you crawled back into your bed. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.

“I took ten minutes to shower and wash off, sue me,” you said, rolling your eyes.

Osamu rolled over, pulling you on top of him. “Why wash off when I’m about to make ya dirty again?”

You laughed. “That was so bad, Samu.”

Osamu pushed your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. He grabbed your breasts, squeezing them and teasing your nipples with his fingers.

“Samu,” you moaned, running your hands over his broad chest. “Let me.”

Osamu pulled his hands away from your skin as you leaned down. Your plush lips wrapped around his left nipple, your tongue teasing the cool, metal barbell as you pinched his other nipple with your fingers.

“Fuck,” Osamu hissed, lowly. His back arched as your free hand drifted to his half hard dick. You palmed him through his boxers, heart racing as you felt him harden beneath your touch.

You pulled back, a string of saliva still connecting you to Osamu. You pinched his swollen, spit-covered nipple, drawing out a high pitched moan from him as you switched to the other.

“Baby,” Osamu breathed, tugging your hair as you suckled his nipple. You hummed in response. “Feels good.”

You smiled against his skin as you continued to palm him. You pushed his boxers down, freeing his cock. You pulled away, straddling him.

“Wanna watch you,” you said, running your hands over his soft stomach.

“Watch me what, baby?” He asked, settling his hands on your hips.

“Wanna watch you get off,” you said. “Please, Samu, I wanna watch you touch yourself.”

“Why would I do that when yer right here?” He asked, moving your hips so you ground against his cock.

“Please,” you begged. “Please, I wanna know what you look like when you’re getting yourself off. Please, daddy, for me.”

Osamu sighed. “Fine, just for ya, princess.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you said, leaning down and kissing him. You moved off of him, watching as he kicked his boxers off.

Osamu wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and let out a shaky breath. He pumped himself once, twice before letting his free hand drift to his puffy nipples.

“Y/n,” he moaned, softly as you leaned back, pushing your hand under the waistband of Osamu’s boxers you were wearing.

“I’m right here, baby,” you said, reaching out with your free hand to touch his shoulder. He relaxed at your touch and pumped his length slowly.

“Doesn’t feel like ya,” Osamu whined as he thumbed his slit. You pressed two fingers against your clit as he gathered precum on his thumb.

“Let me taste,” you said, grabbing his arm. He lifted his hand to your face, letting you suck his thumb into your mouth, licking the precum away.

“Just want ya to touch me,” Osamu said as you hollowed your cheeks around his thumb.

“After you get yourself off,” you said, rubbing your clit in slow circles. Osamu whined as you let out a soft moan.

“Samu,” you moaned, rubbing your clit. “Let me see you.”

Osamu gripped his cock once again. Precum leaked down the side as he slowly pumped himself.

“Baby, take ‘em off,” he said, tugging at the boxers you were wearing. You pushed them down and spread your legs as Osamu watched you dip your fingers into your wet heat.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pinching his nipple and pumping his length faster. His thumb teased the metal barbell as he moaned.

“Samu,” you said, holding your wet fingers up to his face. He groaned at the scent and sucked your fingers into his mouth, licking them clean as he gently squeezed his balls.

“Please, please, I want you to touch me,” he moaned as you pulled your fingers away. You pushed his hands away and straddled him. His cock slotted neatly in your wet folds as you ground against him. You moaned as the head of his cock rubbed against your clit.

“So fuckin’ wet,” Osamu groaned, intertwining your fingers with his. “Just for me, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Just for you,” you moaned, rolling your hips furiously.

“Let me fuck ya,” he said. “Need to be in yer sweet cunt.”

You shook your head. “Sore from yesterday.”

Osamu’s head fell back with a groan. “And with any luck ya will be sore the rest of yer life.”

“Just- just cockwarming,” you said. Osamu nodded and carefully slid the tip into your wet heat.

“Son ofa bitch,” Osamu swore as your gummy walls clenched around him. He slowly bottomed out as you moaned in his ear.

“Oh,” you moaned as his fat cock stretched and molded your cunt. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your forehead against his. “Feels so good.”

“Takin’ my cock so well,” Osamu breathed. He wrapped his arms around you and leaned back against the headboard, holding you closely. “Good girl.”

Your walls tightened at his praise. You sighed as you rested against Osamu’s chest.

“I want this forever,” you mumbled.

“My cock?”

“You, dummy,” you said, smiling as you looked up at him. “I want you forever.”

“Ya can’t say shit like that,” Osamu said, rolling his hips. “Makes me wanna flip ya over and put yer ankles over my shoulders.”

“Do it,” you challenged. Osamu groaned as he flipped you over.

“Yer askin’ for it, lil girl,” he said, pushing your knees up to your chest. You moaned as he pulled out, only to snap his hips against your ass.

“Samu!” You exclaimed as he split you open over his cock.

“I love ya, baby,” he grunted, grabbing your ankles. You cried out as he spread your legs out. You fisted the sheets beneath you as he pounded into you.

“L-Love you,” you stuttered. His cock hit every spot in you, without trying. The cool metal that teased your walls only added to the stimulation.

“Want ya to squirt all over my cock, baby,” he said, putting one of your legs over his shoulder as he reached down to slap your clit. You squealed as he slapped it again before rubbing two fingers over it.

“S-Samu!” You cried as he pulled out. He grabbed your ankles with one hand and pushed them up, folding you in half.

“Such a cute, lil pussy,” he cooed, rubbing his fingers down your slit. Your walls fluttered around nothing. “She’s just cryin’ fer me.”

“Samu, please,” you cried. Osamu leaned down and spat directly in your hole before shoving three fingers in you.

“Clenchin’ ‘round my fingers like a whore,” he said. “Ya want my cock, baby?”

“Please, please!” You moaned loudly. “Samu, please, I want your cock in me!”

“Oh?” He asked, pressing the head of his cock against your clenching hole. He ran the head through your folds, pausing to tease your swollen clit and fluttering hole.

“Daddy!” You cried. “Daddy, I want it!”

Osamu pushed forward, shoving his cock in your tight core. You moaned as he bottomed out, the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix.

“Does my baby feel better with daddy’s cock in her?” Osamu cooed, dropping your legs on his shoulders.

You nodded. “Love daddy’s cock in me,” you moaned.

“I know, baby,” Osamu said. “Ya were made to take my cock. Isn’t that right, princess? Yer just a sweet, lil cocksleeve, meant to take daddy’s cock whenever he wants.”

“‘m jus’ daddy’s cocksleeve,” you moaned. “I was made to take daddy’s cock.”

“Good girl,” Osamu praised, slowly thrusting into you. “Yer gonna be my lil housewife, pregnant with my babies.”

You moaned, unable to speak as Osamu shoved three of his fingers in your mouth.

“Suck,” he ordered. You hollowed your cheeks, tears running down your cheeks as you gagged on his fingers. “Good girl.”

“Wanna be your good, little, housewife,” you moaned as he pulled his fingers away.

“Aw, baby, ya will be,” he said. He reached down to circle your clit. “Cream around my cock, baby.”

“Daddy,” you whined as your stomach tightened. Osamu thrusted into you harder. You cried out as your walls clamped around him, juices gushing.

“There’s my girl,” Osamu said, continuing to thrust into you. You whimpered as his cock twitched inside you.

“Cum in me, daddy, please,” you begged. “Breed me, breed me, I want you to fill me up!”

“Gonna give ya my babies,” he grunted. Osamu moaned loudly as your walls fluttered around him, finally milking an orgasm from him. His balls tightened as he filled you up. Cum dripped down your skin as he fucked you through his orgasm.

“Too much, too much,” you whined as Osamu rubbed your clit.

“Just one more,” he said. You whined as he pulled out. Quickly, before his cum could leak out, he pushed his fingers in you.

“Samu!” You whimpered as his thumb rubbed over your overly sensitive clit.

“Come on,” he grunted, rubbing your clit faster. You moaned loudly.

“Samu, Samu, Samu!” You moaned. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking harshly as he fingered you.

“Cum in my mouth, princess,” he murmured. Your thighs shook as his tongue pressed against your clit.

“Samu!” You exclaimed as you squirted into his open mouth. A mixture of your juices and his cum dripped onto the sheets and down Osamu’s chin.

“That’s my good girl,” Osamu said, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“You’re too much,” you huffed, relaxing into the bed. Osamu smiled at you as he laid next to you.

“Breakfast in bed?” He asked. You shook your head.

“We have to clean these sheets,” you said, glancing down at the wet spot below you.

“But then we can get back in bed, right?” Osamu asked.

You smiled and nodded. “After we eat and wash the sheets, sure. And you need a shower, you smell like sex.”

“Join me?” He asked.

“No funny business, Miya Osamu.”

“Omurice and onion soup for one princess,” Osamu said, setting a plate in front of you. You smiled at the cute, panda-shaped omurice.

“Thank you,” you said. Osamu sat next to you with his own plate.

“I was thinking tomorrow we could go visit the Izanagi shrine,” Osamu said, slurping his soup.

“I’ve never been to the Izanagi shrine,” you said.

“It’s dedicated to Izanagi and Izanami,” Osamu said. You nodded.

“Sounds good,” you said. “Izanami is the goddess of creation and death isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Izanagi was her husband. The moon and sun were born from his eyes.”

“That sounds interesting,” you said. “I’ll go.”

You ate in silence, apart from music playing from the tv in the living room.

“Back to bed?” Osamu asked after washing the dishes. You smiled and nodded.

“Back to bed,” you confirmed. Osamu lifted you easily and pecked your lips as he carried you back to bed. The freshly made bed was quickly ruined as Osamu laid you on your back, gently.

He kissed you softly before kissing down your neck. He made quick work of removing your tank top and sucking your left nipple into his mouth as he teased the other with his fingers. You moaned softly as he switched then continued to kiss down your stomach.

“Samu,” you said softly, threading your fingers in his hair.

“Jus’ let me take care of ya,” he breathed, running his fingers down your thighs, pulling your underwear down. You sighed as Osamu kissed up your inner thigh, stopping at your pubic area.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Osamu said, running his finger through your folds. “Gonna make ya cum on my tongue, princess.”

“Samu,” you moaned as he licked broadly up your slit. He moved your legs over his shoulders and wrapped his lips around your clit. He alternated between teasing it with his tongue and sucking at it softly.

“One or two?” Osamu asked.

“Two,” you said.

Osamu slowly pushed two fingers in your opening. Your mouth fell open with a low moan as he scissored you open and tongued at your clit.

“Osamu,” you moaned, tugging his hair. Osamu groaned, vibrating against your clit. “Oh?”

You gave another experimental tug, receiving the same response.

“Ya keep pulling my hair and I’m gonna fuck ya without finishing down here,” Osamu said, pulling away from you. You stared him in the eyes and pulled his hair again.

He moaned then glared up at you. “I wanted to treat ya real nice before I fucked ya again.”

“And I just want you in me,” you said. Osamu crawled up your body, hovering over you as he kissed you deeply.

“What my princess wants, she gets,” Osamu said. He kicked off his boxers and flipped you over so that you were on top.

“Want you in my mouth,” you mumbled, staring down at his hard cock. Your mouth was watering as his cock rested against his lower stomach, head swollen and dark pink, leaking precum.

“What was that, baby?” Osamu asked.

“Wanna suck you off,” you said, looking up at him. You scrambled down the mattress before he could say anything, spreading his legs slightly.

“G’head, baby,” he said, putting his hands behind his head as you placed a kitten lick to the leaking tip. You moaned at the salty taste.

You ran your tongue down his length, stopping to tease his balls. Osamu hissed as you sucked one in your mouth, gently running your tongue around it.

“Fuck, baby,” Osamu said, reaching down to grab your hair. You pulled back and pumped his cock once, twice, three times before taking the tip in your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks as you pumped the rest of his length.

“I know ya can take more than that,” Osamu said. You ignored him as your hand came up to play with his balls.

“Leave me alone,” you said, pulling back. “Just let me make you feel good.”

You took the tip back in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. Slowly, you took more of his cock in your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. Tears burned at your eyes as you gagged. Osamu groaned and bucked his hips.

“Good girl,” Osamu groaned, pulling your hair gently. You moaned around him, bobbing your head and wrapping your hand around whatever couldn’t fit in your mouth. Your other hand squeezed his balls lightly.

“Fuck, gonna cum,” Osamu grunted as his balls tightened in your hand. You pulled back.

“Cum in my mouth,” you said. You wrapped your lips around the tip and sucked. Your tongue swirled around, moaning at the taste of his precum.

“Fuck, fuck,” Osamu swore, pushing your head down his length as he came down your throat. You swallowed most of it before crawling up the bed and meeting Osamu with a messy kiss. Spit and cum ran down your chins as your tongues danced together.

“I love you,” you mumbled, as Osamu wiped your chin clean with a discarded shirt before wiping his own.

“I love you, too, baby.”

[caspianjames]

BONUS Up And Coming: Julie and the Phantoms

Up and Coming: Julie and the Phantoms Jennifer McCreedy, Junior Correspondent 

On this month’s issue of Up and Coming I had the privilege of sitting down with one of America’s biggest up and coming bands, Julie and the Phantoms. Julie Molina (17), Reggie Peters (18), Alex Mercer (17), and Luke Patterson (17) began rapidly gaining popularity as YouTube stars last fall. They created music videos for songs they wrote themselves, editing them to appear as if the band were ghosts “popping in” behind Julie. Don’t understand what I mean? You can click here to check it out for yourself!

The band has a strong air of camaraderie, and it’s the first thing I notice when I walk into the room with them. They’re all piled on our big interview couch, Molina and Mercer are pressed together whispering. Patterson is bantering with Peters and flicks him in the forehead. They’re like any group of teenagers bordering on adulthood, excited and eager to please. It’s immediately apparent that to all of them, the band has a deep meaning of friendship and support. 

Of course, the first topic of conversation was about the band - what inspired the structure of their music videos, how they got their name, and which came first - the ghost music videos or the ghost band! 

“Since my mom died, my brother has really been into ghosts,” Molina explained to me. “It was actually his idea for the band to pop in like that. My dad does videography as his job, so he was able to help us film and edit. My best friend, Flynn Taylor, came up with the band name.”

The boys all laugh when I ask if they liked the name right away or if there were discussions before they went public with it. “Flynn doesn’t do discussions,” Mercer smiles at Julie like there’s an inside joke there. There probably is, seeing how close these four are. “They came up with the name and made us posters, Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter before even asking us what we thought.”

“We loved it,” Peters is quick to jump in. “And we love Flynn. She knew we’d like it, or they wouldn’t have gone ahead with everything.”

Flynn Taylor, Julie’s best friend, doubles as the band manager - she is on tour with them, but opted not to be present for the interview. 

Since beginning their tour with Panic! At the Disco, all their videos have amassed over one million views each on YouTube and their music has been released on Spotify with startlingly quick success. Molina, I discovered, is actually the newest member of the band, although I would never have known from watching the four bandmates interact. She is also the youngest by a year, having just had her seventeenth birthday as the boys are all turning eighteen, but she holds herself with a quiet confidence that all the boys seem to look to. Even this early into the interview they defer to her to answer questions and look to her for reactions to their own answers. 

This made it especially surprising to find out that the band existed before Julie joined it, just under a different name. Sunset Curve. Clearly, it did not have the popularity that Julie and the Phantoms has even a few months into their creation. “We played a couple school shows and stuff,” Patterson told me, “but nothing clicked until we met Julie.” Luke Patterson carries a humming energy with him that comes across in his words. In true rocker fashion, he struggles to sit still, tapping his fingers on his thighs and softly bouncing on the couch. 

Unsurprisingly, Molina used similar words to describe the band’s first meeting. “The first time I sang with them at school we just clicked,” she says, smiling at Luke. 

Of course, given their success, I had to ask the question everyone wants to know. How did they end up opening for Panic! At the Disco, despite being relatively unknown outside the Los Angeles music scene previous to their debut at The Orpheum?

“We’ve seen some wild theories,” Mercer confides to me with a small smile on his face. He is arguably the most subdued of the group and generally seems content to watch his bandmates answer my questions. Don’t be fooled, though - not only is he a phenomenal drummer, he also sings backup vocals for Julie and the Phantoms. “My favouirte theory was one that caught a lot of steam on Twitter about us using ‘ghost powers’,” he adds air quotes with his hands and laughs, “to hide the scheduled opener’s tour bus and then pop into the venue in their place at the time they were supposed to perform.”

The whole band laughs at this - clearly it is a favourite theory amongst them. Peters adds, though, that it was clearly an unfounded theory given that “Julie doesn’t have any ghost powers, anyways. That’s why it’s Julie and the Phantoms. But I’d kill for ghost powers in real life.” When I ask what he’d use them for, though, he seems stumped. “I think it would just be cool to walk through walls.” We’re with you on that one, Reggie!

But what actually did happen to get them into the coveted opening spot at The Orpheum? Molina gives me a modest smile when I ask. “We were honestly just in the right place at the right time,” she explains. 

Patterson picks up the story from there with a little bit more flair, telling me that the opening band had actually gotten food poisoning - “from a street dog vendor, believe it or not” - and the manager of the Orpheum happened to be familiar with the Julie and the Phantoms YouTube page. 

“Since we were local,” Peters explains, “It was just a phone call. And then suddenly we were on stage doing a proper professional soundcheck for the first time in our lives.”

“Everything moved so fast after that,” Patterson adds. Each of his bandmates nod in agreement as he speaks. “We blinked and we were on a tour bus, suddenly.”

It seems that the band is handling the change well, though. 

“It’s definitely different,” Molina tells me. “We have to be responsible for our own school and make sure we’re turning in assignments on time. There’s a lot of driving and a lot of time to kill. We can get on each other’s nerves quite a bit, but there’s always a lot of time for songwriting, too.”

When I prompt her about who gets on who’s nerves, the whole band turns in tandem to look at Luke. He laughs and shrugs at me. “I’m an early riser,” he explains. “I like music in my hands twenty-four seven. I always have my guitar, but it isn’t always appreciated.”

“We’ve had to compromise,” Mercer says with a long-suffering sigh. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was the oldest of the group. “Luke isn’t allowed to start playing music until eleven in the morning the day after a show.”

As for being on tour with Panic!, none of them seem all too bothered by the fame of the headliners. “They’re really cool,” Peters explains to me. “They’ve been doing this a long time and they always have advice for us which I think we really value right now.”

Otherwise, though, the band seems to keep to themselves. When asked about their favouirte hobbies, Peters speaks at length about Star Wars. “I can’t watch the prequels before bed,” he says. His bandmates groan and shake their heads, although he seems unbothered. “Jar-Jar gives me nightmares.”

Other than Star Wars, “We try to make sure we get time and space for ourselves every day,” Molina says. “It’s a lot of us in a small space, and if we don’t get away from each other for a bit we argue a lot more.”

When I ask each of them who their favourite bandmate is to live with, all the boys say Julie and then turn expectantly for her answer. “I suppose Flynn doesn’t count as a bandmate,” she said with a sigh. “Probably Alex, but we live together normally so it’s not something that’s new.”

Mercer confirms this piece of information with a nod and a smile. “I prefer sharing a room with your brother to sharing a bus with you, though,” he says to Julie. She just rolls her eyes. 

When pushed, Mercer elaborates a little bit. “I’ve been living with Julie’s family for my senior year. It’s a better environment for me and is much closer to our school than where I lived. My parents are happy that it gives me more time to focus on school.”

Since I have Mercer’s attention now, I ask him a question I’ve been dying to know the answer to. Does he know what a role model he is to gay and questioning children and teens that get to see him be himself so publicly? 

As all the boys have been doing, he looks to Julie before answering. “I don’t think about it much, to be honest,” he says candidly. “If people think I’m a role model then I’m glad, but I’m just me. And being gay is part of me, a part of me that’s always been completely accepted by my band, just like my drumming or my singing.”

There was no tension, the band members explain, upon finding out about Alex’s sexuality. “No one was surprised when Alex came out,” Patterson adds. “We were only, like, twelve when he came out to us, anyway. It’s just a fact about who he is. Like, Alex is gay and hates mornings and I play the guitar and love mornings and we’re best friends.”

“Plus, I’m bisexual,” Peters adds, “So it would be hypocritical to have a problem with Alex.”

“I’m pansexual,” Patterson pipes up again. “And Alex being himself helped me figure out that part of myself.”

Molina doesn’t seem to have much to add. “Alex was already out when I met him,” she says. “It was never a surprise and someone’s sexuality shouldn’t be something that causes tension or makes people upset anyways.”

When I point out that it has seemed to cause some tension among fans, they all sigh. For unaware readers, the band has been stirring up quite the debate on Twitter and Instagram amongst fans and haters alike as to who is dating who. Patterson and Molina confirmed their relationship before going on tour and have been dating since before their band became popular. Recently, a Twitter user attending a Julie and the Phantoms meet and greet noted the closeness between Molina and Peters, causing fans to speculate that Molina is cheating on Patterson with Peters. When I ask if they'd like to address it, however, they all nod. 

“Luke and I have been dating for a few months,” Julie says, “very happily. Neither of us have cheated on each other, nor would we ever. But we’re both also dating Reggie.”

When I ask for clarification, Peters adds, “I’m dating Luke and Julie, just like Julie is dating me and Luke and Luke is dating Julie and me.” Although it doesn’t sound clear, it does seem to be clear for them. 

“We’d like people to give us our privacy, although we know that probably won’t happen,” Molina says. “We’re allowed to define our own relationships in the way that works for us, we don’t have to hold them up to anyone else’s expectations or preconceived notions of what a relationship should look like.”

When I ask if there’s anything they’d like to add before we wrap up, Patterson pipes up with a confident “Yes.” 

“We’re Julie and the Phantoms,” he says, prompting Peters to follow up with “Tell your friends!”

Tell your friends, indeed. You can find Julie and the Phantoms everywhere that Panic! At the Disco is playing for the next four weeks. 

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[wild-aloof-rebel]

In a candid conversation with the Star, Manji said “Schitt’s Creek” producers did not instruct him as to how Ray should sound.

“It is a very slight Indian accent — somebody who was probably raised in Canada, but probably was born in India or Pakistan,” he said from his home in Los Angeles.

“I don’t regret that because I think it actually works for Ray. He wasn’t like everybody else in that town. He was from somewhere else.”

Manji said he’s OK with viewers questioning his choices, but rather than focus on accents, he said, critics could ask why his character didn’t have a more fully developed story, like a relationship or a family.

“If you want to criticize something, do that,” he said. “We need to have three-dimensional characters.”

[full article text below the cut]

At the start of Rizwan Manji’s acting career in the 1990s, the only roles available to him were those playing convenience store clerks and cab drivers. The parts usually required him to fake an Indian accent — just for laughs.

“We would joke about it. ‘This is so offensive, this is so offensive,’” recalls the Toronto native. “It’s not like we didn’t know.”

More than two decades later, Manji’s grin-and-bear-it perseverance has paid off. At 46, Manji now boasts a long — and diverse — list of TV and film credits. In September, he joined castmates from the hit CBC comedy series “Schitt’s Creek” in celebration as the show nabbed a record-breaking nine Emmy Awards.

That doesn’t mean, however, he still doesn’t grapple with questions about his acting choices.

While “Schitt’s Creek,” about a wealthy family that loses its fortune and is forced to move to a backwater town, won raves for its messages of inclusivity and positive queer representation, a segment of viewers took to social media to criticize Manji’s character, Ray Butani, the town’s bumbling jack of all trades — who speaks with an accent.

What irked them was that Ray, one of the few recurring people of colour on the show, seemed like a caricature — a rehash of the stereotypical, emasculated South Asian male. They also complained that Manji’s accent came across as “cringey.”

“Why go to the effort of writing in a character with an Indian name, played by an Indian actor, whose main personality trait is that he is stupid and has an accent?” Rishi Maharaj, a Port Hardy, B.C., engineer and avid TV viewer, wrote on Twitter days after the show’s Emmy sweep.

Across North America’s TV and film industry, there is broad consensus about the need to fight stereotypes and offensive tropes in casting. But the debate among actors of colour over whether they should fake accents remains fraught.

Some Hollywood actors, such as Aziz Ansari and John Cho, have reportedly turned down roles, citing the history of Hollywood playing up accents for laughs. (Think Mickey Rooney’s portrayal of Mr. Yunioshi in the 1961 romantic comedy “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” complete with taped eyelids, buck teeth and cartoonish accent).

They worry that parts requiring them to speak with accents do nothing to help the cause of minority actors who are often typecast in secondary roles or as sidekicks, and who continue to be under-represented on TV and film.

Others say it’s important to represent linguistic diversity and see no harm portraying characters who speak in broken English, as long as their accent is not the butt of a joke and in keeping with a character’s backstory.

In a candid conversation with the Star, Manji said “Schitt’s Creek” producers did not instruct him as to how Ray should sound.

“It is a very slight Indian accent — somebody who was probably raised in Canada, but probably was born in India or Pakistan,” he said from his home in Los Angeles.

“I don’t regret that because I think it actually works for Ray. He wasn’t like everybody else in that town. He was from somewhere else.”

Manji said he’s OK with viewers questioning his choices, but rather than focus on accents, he said, critics could ask why his character didn’t have a more fully developed story, like a relationship or a family.

“If you want to criticize something, do that,” he said. “We need to have three-dimensional characters.”

The character that has generated one of the most heated debates in recent years when it comes to accents is Apu, the Indian-American shopkeeper on the long-running animated series “The Simpsons.” Until recently, the thick-accented character was voiced by actor Hank Azaria, who is white.

In 2017, American comedian Hari Kondabolu came out with a documentary, “The Problem With Apu,” in which he pressed the case that the show fomented racial stereotypes about Indian people.

In interviews at the time, Kondabolu shared that, as a kid, Apu was “the only Indian we had on TV” and that he was happy for “any representation.” But then on the playground, he had to deal with kids mimicking Apu’s accent.

In the documentary, he gets Dana Gould, a former writer on the show, to admit, “There are accents, that by their nature, to white Americans, sound funny. Period.”

With criticism mounting, Azaria, who had voiced Apu for three decades, announced he was stepping away from the role, telling the New York Times earlier this year: “Once I realized that that was the way this character was thought of, I just didn’t want to participate in it anymore.”

There is growing sensitivity among artists, writers, directors and producers to avoid stereotypes and invest in “fully humanized, realized characters,” Steven Eng, an actor and voice and speech instructor at New York University, told the Star.

“There’s certainly been a whole history — that I don’t think any of us can deny — in film and television and the theatre where characters were stereotyped,” he said. “I think there’s so much more awareness, so much more determination to not go that route.”

But even “groundbreaking” shows, such as “Kim’s Convenience” and the recently cancelled “Fresh Off the Boat,” which were heralded for elevating Asian-Canadian and Asian-American visibility and immigrant experiences, have not escaped criticism, accused by some viewers of employing storylines and accents that do not ring true.

Cast members, in turn, leapt to the defence of their shows — and their accents.

“Some people are like, ‘Oh, stereotypical accent!’” Constance Wu, lead actress on “Fresh Off the Boat,” told Time magazine regarding her character’s Taiwanese accent. “An accent is an accent. If there were jokes written about the accent, then that would certainly be harmful. But there aren’t jokes written about it. It’s not even talked about. It’s just a fact of life: immigrants have accents.”

Paul Sun-Hyung Lee, the lead actor in “Kim’s Convenience” told Maclean’s his character’s Korean accent is “part of who he is, but it isn’t the joke.”

“Yes, we’re in the entertainment field, and we will mine some of that because it is situational humour. You will get a point where we’ll say, ‘Here’s where some fun can be made, playing with the accent, and his inability and people mishearing what he says.’ But at the same time, that’s not all it is,” he said.

Jimmy O. Yang, who starred in the HBO series “Silicon Valley” and whose character spoke with a heavy Chinese accent, told Huffington Post the key is to portray immigrants with humanity.

“It’s maybe a better thought to change the perception of an accent than to avoid it all together,” he said. “I take offence (when people don’t go for parts with accents) ― it’s like saying, ‘I’m better than my immigrant brother with an accent.’”

Yang added he drew inspiration from his mom and relatives in Shanghai to develop his accent for the show. “It’s not just a (lousy) impression of a Cantonese Bruce Lee accent.”

Still, some actors have declared outright they will not do it.

“For me, personally, any time I’ve been asked to do that, I feel like — it feels like it’s making fun of people that have that accent if I do it and don’t have that voice,” comedian Aziz Ansari told NPR in 2015, years before he faced a public allegation of sexual misconduct.

“It feels like you’re doing it so white people can laugh at Indian people,” he said at the time.

That’s kind of how Maharaj felt watching Ray on “Schitt’s Creek.”

“I did find it cringey. The first thought that came to mind was it reminded me of Apu in ‘The Simpsons,’” he told the Star.

In The Problem With Apu, South Asian-American comedian Hari Kondabolu confronts his long-standing “nemesis” Apu Nahasapeemapetilon – better known as the Indian convenience store owner on The Simpsons. Creator and star Kondabolu discusses how this controversial caricature was created, burrowed its way into the hearts and minds of Americans, and continues to exist – intact – nearly three decades later. Featuring interviews with Aziz Ansari, Kal Penn, Whoopi Goldberg, W. Kamau Bell, Aasif Mandvi, Hasan Minhaj, Utkarsh Ambudkar, Aparna Nancherla

“To me what it sounds like is what a person from Saskatoon thinks a person from India sounds like. ... I’m sure he could’ve been a funny part of that show without an accent.”

Maharaj wasn’t alone. Arif Silverman, an actor and playwright in New York, posted a lengthy Facebook post in October sharing his conflicted feelings about the show.

“Schitt’s Creek has become one of my all-time favourite shows. But they did their South Asian characters dirty,” he wrote.

“Especially Ray, who plays directly into the racist South Asian trope of being an emasculated, goofy buffoon who no one takes seriously, not least in part because of his accent.”

Silverman told the Star Ray’s accent seemed “part of the joke” and struck him as a “betrayal” from a show that preached inclusivity and whose main romance was a gay love story.

“I’m half South Asian — my mother is from Bangladesh. … And so I think a lot about representation of South Asians in the media,” he said. “If you’re really going to talk about inclusivity it can’t be at anyone’s expense.”

Manji says he faced a lot of struggles as a brown actor at the start of his career.

Back then, he was often pigeonholed into narrow roles, such as the cabbie or 7-Eleven store clerk. One hundred per cent of his roles required him to fake a South Asian accent.

“It was very strictly, like, the joke was on the accent,” he said.

But he accepted the parts because he needed the work.

He did draw a line with one type of role.

“I’m Muslim, so I was more the guy who was like, ‘I’m not being the terrorist.’”

There was one time, however, when he auditioned to play an Islamic Studies professor on the show “24.” He was given limited information about the character. It turned out he was a bomb maker.

But the money was too good to pass up. He took the part.

“I rationalized it in my head, ‘Oh, it’s season 8, and they have good Muslim characters. … I don’t know if I made the right decision,” he said.

“To be clear, I’m OK with being the bad guy. I’d love to play the bad guy. It’s just when it’s this kind of thing where you’re screaming ‘Allahu akbar’ and bombing people.”

In 2010, Manji was cast in the short-lived NBC sitcom “Outsourced” set in an Indian call centre. He and his castmates employed accents, which some critics derided for lack of authenticity.

It’s fine if people want to criticize the quality of the accents, he said, but it wouldn’t have made sense for these characters not to have accents.

“The show was shooting in America about living in India. I don’t know what the other option was,” he said, adding that he channelled his father in developing the accent for that show.

Another thing to keep in mind is that accents have to be understandable to North American audiences, Manji said. For instance, during the filming of the movie “Charlie Wilson’s War,” Manji, who played a Pakistani colonel, said he settled on a “sweet spot” where his accent “sounds foreign” but is “not so thick that it becomes comedic or unintelligible.”

Manji said he did not have to audition for “Schitt’s Creek” but was offered the role of Ray, the town’s real estate agent, travel agent, photographer and Christmas tree salesman.

When he went for his first table read in Toronto, he’d had no prior discussion with the show’s writers or producers about what Ray would sound like.

Because most of his demo tape consisted of his work on “Outsourced,” Manji assumed that was the kind of voice producers were looking for. He went with a slightly toned-down version.

“Afterwards, I went up to Dan (Levy, the show’s co-creator) and said, ‘Hey just want to check in.’ He said, ‘I love what you did. It was funny.’ That ended up being the character for six years.”

Maharaj says he can’t help but feel Manji was selling himself short — playing to what he thought “a white audience might expect or respond more favourably to” to get the job. He likens it to job applicants of Asian descent who anglicize their names on resumes.

“I’m encouraged to hear he had agency, that they weren’t like, ‘We need you to do the accent,’” he said.

“I’d feel better if they were asking him to do a British accent or Brooklyn accent because if you’re doing this Indian accent and the character is comedic, it is nonetheless playing into that trope.”

Levy, who is also from Toronto, declined an interview request. Instead, he released a statement through his publicist.

“Ray was conceived as a character of Indian decent which we cast with Canadian-born actor Rizwan Manji, who is of Indian decent. No accent was called for in the casting or specified in the scripts,” it said.

“The thoughtful choices that Rizwan made in his portrayal in the audition room perfectly encapsulated the warmth and the energy of Ray. All characters on our show were created with love, respect and humanity. It has been gratifying to have these intentions reflected through the overwhelming audience support for these characters. That said, I welcome any perspectives that encourage conversations about diversity, especially in entertainment.”

Despite what critics might think, Manji said he has felt more empowered in recent years to make creative decisions about his characters.

Manji, who had a role in NBC’s musical comedy “Perfect Harmony,” which was cancelled this year, said when he was approached about playing the part of a pastor, he was the one who initiated the idea of giving the character a foreign accent.

Because the character was raised by missionaries, it wouldn’t have made sense for him to not have one.

Conversely, when he was asked a couple years ago to read for a pilot for a dramatic series in which his character was a Muslim father he told the casting director he didn’t want to do an accent.

“I said, ‘You know what? I’d rather not. That’s not going to excite me about this part,’” he said.

“I ended up getting the job. I found my voice.” (The pilot never made it to series).

Manji, who guesses about 60 per cent of his roles in more recent years have involved accent work, says remarks by actors who refuse to do accents are “dangerous” because they could end up limiting the types of roles available to minority actors.

His worry is casting directors will go to India in search of authentic accents, overlooking North American-born actors, like him.

“I’m already marginalized.”

Nobody fusses when Meryl Streep performs with an accent, he adds.

Ishani Nath, a freelance entertainment and lifestyle journalist in Toronto, says anytime she sees an accented character who also provides comedic relief, it raises a bit of a red flag.

But she’s hesitant to criticize actors for taking those roles, knowing that opportunities are not easy to come by.

“I’m way more interested in criticizing writers, producers, (and asking): Why are you asking for these roles to be accented? … Is there an actual reason and backstory?”

Nath says she is starting to notice deeper conversations about how different cultures are represented on screen and what nuances can be added to make characters more complex.

She says a good example of this is the hit movie “Crazy Rich Asians,” whose actors exhibited a range of regional Asian accents.

“It’s important to note that the problem with accent roles isn’t the accents themselves — plenty of characters in ‘Crazy Rich Asians’ have accents, but no one has the exaggerated or generic ‘Asian’ accent that has historically been played for laughs in Hollywood,” she wrote in a 2018 article in Flare.

Jhanik Bullard, a writer and member of BIPOC TV & Film, a collective of Black, Indigenous and people of colour working in Canada’s entertainment industry, says it is no longer acceptable for characters to have accents “just because.”

“It should actually have an authentic origin as to why this character sounds the way they sound,” he said.

Audiences are also not as forgiving as they may have been in the 1990s if the accent sounds botched or inauthentic.

What is encouraging, he says, is that more doors are being opened for people of colour to tell their stories and there are more platforms for those stories to be to told.

To that end, Manji says he and his partners have initiated a handful of projects that are in various stages of development. One is a show about a Muslim guy who becomes mayor of a major city. Another is a sitcom about a “normal Muslim family” — something that “resembles me more.”

Does the character he envision for himself speak with an accent?

“Since I want it to be closer to me, then I would say not.”

[jeonjk0504]

why didn’t you say anything about the racism bts have faced these past days :(

Hey anon!

I actually haven‘t been online here because of the racism debate. I was on twitter and was supporting it there on two accounts nonstop! if you want to follow me, my @ is also jeonjk0504 :)

You are completely right though, i should have spoken up on my platform here sooner, to educate my followers on this really important matter!

If i make mistakes or should word things differently, please let me know, as you can tell i‘m not native.

The short version:

Credits to @ squishykosmos (twt)!

What happened?

3 days ago, the german radio host Matthias Mattuschik from the station Bayern3 spew racist remarks about BTS because of their MTV Unplugged cover of coldplay. He is a fanboy of coldplay and only wanted to introduce their song ‚Fix you‘ but somehow it was necessary to explain to his listeners why it was an utter insult that BTS had an MTV unplugged concert (he called it paradox, because it‘s a boyband) where they were allowed to cover his favorite song. Coldplay allowed the cover by the way and even commented on it positively.

Here are two links from his original rant, translated in english:

https://twitter.com/bts_updates_ger/status/1365211269133971458?s=21 (Part 1)

https://twitter.com/atinystrawbery/status/1365052883771785219?s=21 (Part 2)

As a german i know that to other people our language sounds quite agressive in general, but this is a whole different level. This isn‘t said in a jokingly way, it‘s pure hatred.

He called BTS a virus against which hopefully there will be a vaccine soon, that their cover of coldplay is blasphemy and that they are little pisser who should get a 20-year vacation in North Korea. Considering the rising violence against Asians all over the world because of Covid, his speech is extremely harmful and normalizes hate against Asians apart from the fact that it was racism in it’s purest form. Why the wish for a South Korean Group to have vacation in the North Korean dictatorship is inhumane and racist, i hopefully don‘t have to explain further. He even said, he can‘t be xenophobic, because he drives a korean brand car (which turned out to be japanese). The new ‚i can‘t be racist, i have a black friend‘.

This also hasn‘t been the first time, in 2018 he made an antisemetic comparison between smoker and jews for which he got a little attention, but no consequences.

Furthermore ARMY dug up a picture on his instagram from 2020 with the caption ‚ Is more evidence needed?!?,‘

A short note:

What makes this even more infuriating is that the radio station is regulated by public-law and german citizens are OBLIGATED to pay for it. We literally are forced to pay money to a radio station that broadcasts openly racist slurs! And no, it‘s not allowed. They have policies that explicitly say they are not allowed to discriminate, they have to support diversity and have to be politically and economically independant.

Do they give a fuck? Apparently not really.

Did Bayern3 answer the hashtags and the pressure?

They did, first came a short nonpology where they said that the show, which Matthias Matuschik is broadcasting, is known for his direct and honest opinions and that he could have worded it better. They are sorry if anyone felt insulted, which is excusing the feeling of the fans, but not the act in itself.

After Army answered with the hashtag ‚Racism is not an opinion‘ and various media coverage surfaced, they posted a second ‚apology‘, where they -again- said that they are distancing themselves from what was said and Matthias has always been an avid supporter of refugees so he is very far away from being a racist. (Supporting refugees doesn’t excuse you from saying racist things though.) Matthias stated that he is shocked from the reactions, that he is ‚sorry if people felt what he said was racist‘ and that his family is getting death threats. (which is in no way acceptable of course.) They would review what was said so it doesn‘t happen again.

Here you can read the statements in german and translated in english:

First statement: https://twitter.com/bts_updates_ger/status/1365087239756259330?s=21

Second statement: https://twitter.com/bts_updates_ger/status/1365305564050382849?s=21

This would have probably been the beginning of a conversation, if Matthias wouldn‘t have went to facebook after his second apology to like a supporting post that basically stated that the topic is way overhyped and in the 80s you were allowed to say your opinion without people getting butthurt (this is a short form.) He completely revised his remorse literally the same day after the updated apology and supported a statement that was gaslighting the people who critized him. You can read the facebook post here:

https://twitter.com/traveltomyrm/status/1365321397342461957?s=21

Since then: Nothing. My mom told me yesterday they‘re playing dynamite a lot, i told her to switch the channel.

News Coverage

Thankfully, we got a lot of support from I-ARMY and K-ARMY, otherwise we wouldn‘t have been able to trend the hashtags day and night and kept them in the top categories in germany and worldwide. We also got a lot of support from international media who called out the racism and put them into context in really amazing articles. (Also K-Media and J-Media but i only have screenshots, no links) Here are a few of them:

https://rollingstoneindia.com/xenophobic-german-presenters-comments-about-bts-are-just-the-tip-of-the-racist-iceberg/

https://www.forbes.com/sites/bryanrolli/2021/02/26/bts-were-once-again-the-subject-of-racist-on-air-remarks-and-received-a-pathetic-non-apology/

We even got celebrities like halsey, max, lauv, steve aoki, JJ Ryan, DJ Swivel, Liam McEwan, Zara Larsson, MTV UK, Columbia Records and some more bring attention to the issue and show their support for BTS in the face of racism.

This support was probably the reason why we even got a second ‚apology‘, because guess what? German media ain‘t having it. Since the beginning of our protest, i think i saw 2 articles in total which actually called it racism, various newspapers and online magazines were downplaying it by talking about ‚insults‘ and concentrating on Matthias calling BTS pisser instead of quoting the actual racist remarks he made. We got no TV news whatsoever. So naturally, german locals looking at this protest think that Fans are going on a rampage because their favorite boygroup got insulted.

It has been maddening. The radio station and host have been trying to sit this whole thing out for days, in hope we lose energy over the weekend and it‘s draining to not be heard or taken seriously. For me it‘s still a priviledged perspective, because i don‘t have to bear consequences when this thing is over, one way or another. But for Asians in our country, also some of my friends, this horror in times of covid will continue. The lack of serious German Media coverage has been frustrating and embarrasing to say the least, but also shown again, that the topic gets overshadowed by prejudices against KPop, the fanbase and Asians as part of satirical fun (which it isn‘t).

Why is that?

This is my personal take and not a deep analysis, just my personal observations: Germany might be progressive in a lot of aspects, but they still have deeply ingrained every day racism against asians and they have a huge problem realizing and admitting to that. We don‘t have a lot of asian representation and there is a huge alieniation from asians for a lot of german 50+ (also less, but those are the ones in power mostly). Racism against Asians is not seen enough and people don‘t empathize, partly because they‘re white privileged people who don‘t have to live with certain stigma, partly because they simply don‘t care to educate themselves about minorities in their own country. This ignorance is widespread, if it doesn‘t happen in front of your doorstep, it‘s probably nonexistant. It‘s also not only reserved for Asians, january 2021 we had a talkshow where 5 white german people talked happily about what minorities such as Romani people think as insulting or racist. They did get a lot of backleash because obviously they talk about matters, without letting minorities be part of the discussion, but real consequences? Nope.

I doubt that this protest will get Matthias Matuschik fired (which it should if you are openly racist on a public platform), because the pressure is too low and the radio station has shown with their first statement that they thought it‘s rather funny than problematic. But i don’t know what‘s going to happen. Apart from being an ARMY, i am an adult who condemns racism in any way or form. Why german media chooses to overlook the essence of the debate and makes it a hystercial fanbase issue is beyond me.

If you want to have a look yourself, you can follow German Fanbase accounts, such as @ BTS_UPDATES_GER for updates in german and english.

And at last, here is a thread on how german media reproduces Anti Asian Racism : https://twitter.com/storiesbythuy/status/1366073706817196046?s=21

German Armys are trying to come up with a plan to gain more attention for the topic at the moment, so we‘ll see how things turn out! Please support us if possible!

[pugzman3]

My level of thinking may differ in some respects. I watched every minute of the Chauvin trial. He was kneeling on George Floyds neck. In videos it was apparent that that was happening. On the subject of 1st amendment rights in the private sector you are wrong. The Framer's of the Constitution would not have imagined our current situation but, it does say the there is a difference between Private and Government as far as 1st amendment rights. An employer or a private platform does not have to abide by the 1st amendment. The Government sector however does. A little research tells one this and in my case, a friend who is a lawyer. " The First Amendment does not limit private employers. The Bill of Rights and the First Amendment limit only Government Actors. This means that private employers can restrict speech in the workplace without running afoul of the First Amendment" The same goes for Private platforms such as Twitter and Facebook. One example of Trump's lies is that he told the public that this virus wasn't as bad as it was early on. The taped interview for Woodward's book has him stating otherwise. Taped interview!

So I am guessing that you are the same person that keeps sending the anonymous ASKs because you are actually speaking and not being childish like the other attention seekers, and again, I greatly appreciate the maturity. So here is the deal, if you want to have a conversation, let's go. I would say DM me here...but tumblr has disabled my ability to send and read DM's, which by your logic they have the "right" right to do. Freedom of speech for some, not so much the others. So, my IG is pugzmantothethird, I can chat there, unless you are going to come with some third grade media blinded argument. If that is the case I have some suggestions for you, so stay tuned.

since you want to bring up chauvin again and the trial you watched, then I guess you saw the police chief admit that the knee was on the neck the whole time. I guess you saw the witness plead the fifth because he knew his answers would be danming for the prosecution. Or maybe hulu blocked that info, I don't know. Regardless here is the deal. if you think that was a "case" of "police brutality", you are wasting my (and your) time. Floyd was going to die that day. That was the plan. It was a FF organized and executed to trigger anger and division among the masses, bring in more socialistic controls, discredit cops and encourage the defunding of police across the country, and millions fell for it. Both Pelosi and his GF called him a sacrifice. Don't believe in FF's or that the gov is ran by luciferians that would do something like that? check this out, from April 19th to the beginning of may is a big season of worship in their calander that calls for sacrifices. What did we see almost every day during those days? and what have we NOT seen since the beginning of May?

the trump lie, man I thought you might come with something better than that but ok. on the surface, again, I will assume you have never served or worked in a manner where you had to keep a secret or play down something to keep people calm, I have. you saw what people did with toilet paper right? on the surface again, you fell for the media doing any and everything they can to try and discredit him, and cover the fact that time after time they get proven as failures as journalists. Go learn about Operation Mockingbird and know that yes, it is still happening. The media is slowly being exposed as propagandists for the deep state, and they know it.

The 1st A, I think we were somewhat saying the same thing, except for private businesses. I said that we are protected under it and officials are to protect those rights. yes, like you said, it protects us from the gov, which to me I was implying that from "everyone" i meant especially from the gov. But again, you are looking at the surface argument that is being presented by the media, and you showed that when you said trump was "whining" about being censored, and you try to say "Founding fathers couldn't have foreseen that". quick smackdown on that, pretty sure the majority of business back in 1776 were privately owned business so yeah they had something to site in on. But that is third grade shit. The bigger picture is that the traps have been set for big tech and they are in the teeth now. You think it was just about "censorship" when their plan was much bigger. Go study Joseph Goebbels and his tactics as Minister of Propaganda under Hitler. Open your eyes and you will see the exact same game being played right now. This is what they do not want you to see, and this is why the media is trying to run distraction. They want you small minded and short sighted because they want you to believe they are on "your side" right now. But it will not stop there and in the end, no one will be safe.

As for the suggestions, if you want to talk, I am up for it. But come out from behind the anonymous because I sure as hell am not going to report you or whatever you are afraid of. Worst case scenario, we disagree and go about our business. Best case scenario, you get freed from the matrix. But before you come with that surface bs argument, maybe just sit back quiet for a bit, open your eyes, forget EVERYTHING you thought was real, drop your biases, and watch. Some one brought you to this Great awakening fOr a reason my frienD.

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

another unsolicited relationship advice post:

okay. i know that there’s probably thousands of relationship advice posts on here. but anyway. to my younger followers, if i have any:

if anyone that you’ve just met declares that you’re “girlfriend material” or “boyfriend material” and that you must simply meet their parents NOW! or some other ridiculously short interval (like a week say), instead of, idek, like a month or two into your relationship, know that that is a possible red flag for trying to push the relationship too fast.

i say this as again, bc on some buzzfeed fb post about supposed “nice guys” i commented about my high school stalker/creeper from 2012/2013. who, when i first met him in 2012 at public school, he insisted that after two days of knowing him that i simply “have to meet my (his) mum and my sisters right now! bc you’re girlfriend material and i LOVE you!”

like woah! dude! i’ve known you for a grand total of two fucking days! i absolutely don’t have to meet your family RIGHT NOW (although if i’d ever been stupid enough to actually date my stalker back then, i would’ve had to meet his mum or one of his 4 sisters/all of them at once; at some point anyway…. bc they would’ve had to drive us to dates etc bc neither of us had our Ps (provisional drivers licence here in aus) yet at the time)). because i’m pretty sure the normal window is about 1-2 months? maybe 3-4 months? why the fuck are you so obsessed with the term “girlfriend material”??? what the actual FUCK does that EVEN mean?? get away from me. bc this isn’t love. it’s something else, that i can’t put my finger on.

compare this to clear braces boy from catholic school, who literally took almost 3 years to ask me out; and to even ask for my number. when he’d finally asked for my number right before one set of the winter holidays at the end of term 2/before the start of term 3 in 2010, i was so oblivious as to why he wanted my number…. when he’d never wanted it/asked for it before.

so when he called me, while i was still on the bus home from school, i was panicking like “OH FUCK THATS WHY HE WANTED MY NUMBER!!! HE WANTS TO ASK ME OUT!!!!! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!!! WHY THE FUCK AM I SO SLOW AND FUCKING DUMB???!!!” he never pressured me to meet his parents (although at 14/15 it was very obvious that that was a standard practice since we couldn’t drive ourselves anywhere lmao). we were basically on equal footing, except for my slowness with cottoning onto him asking me out and why he asked for my number lol.

CBB had never pressured and harassed me about my virginity. he had NEVER harassed me with porn, most especially while at school, unlike mr creeper who LOVED pulling out his porn filled phone and school laptop to show me his overly violent, degrading and aggressive porn. CBB’s flirting method was showing me norwegian black metal bands (or normal metal bands like parkway drive) and making me watch repeats of family guy on his ipod at lunch bc he loved family guy. he never brought up the term “girlfriend material” ever. he treated me like an actual person. and not his own personal fuck doll, that had holes that were conveniently for sticking his useless and clueless ass teenage dick in, again unlike creeper who was hellbent on wanting to act out his favourite violent etc porn on me to let him “take your virginity in a wonderful weekend of sex down the coast and you have to do all things that I LIKE BC THAT’S THAT AND I SAID SO!!!” 🤮🤮. although if i had progressed further than those few weeks with cbb, and my constant *karen from mean girls voice* *fake cough, fake cough* i’m sick *regina george voice* boo, you whore!” act every time i didn’t turn up on date that he’d asked me on…. maybe he could’ve treated me like that. but i’ll never know lol.

so cbb was unlike mr stalker; who was obsessed with my supposed “girlfriend material” status. mr stalker was obsessed with the fact that i had the ability and audacity to basically tell him “no”, by coyly letting him down with “my dad says i can’t date bc it distracts me from school and getting good marks 🙄😑” (which probably wasn’t true, looking back lmao)….. where he then whined PUBLICLY on facebook about it, with a status like “today sucks”… and then naming and shaming me in the comments when someone asked in the post comments what was wrong like: “*insert my name here* said no! she’s being a bitch!”. that at the time, made me roll my eyes and still does today when i think about it. because bro. i had literally only known you for two fucking days at that point. of course i’m going to say no. what the hell??? two days is nowhere near enough time to know a person well enough (although the conversation we had together on misguided trip to his house one day while we were wagging (skipping class/playing hooky for americans) aboriginal studies told me MORE THAN ENOUGH about his piece of shitness tbh) to “date” them imo.

because to me, the title “girlfriend material” doesn’t mean any fucking thing. but when it comes from a creep like mr stalker; it means “you’ll be my girlfriend forever and have my kids bc you’re such a nice girl and you’ll fix me bc that’s what nice girls like you do; bc you’re SO LOYAL AND NICE!” which i also saw as a MASSIVE RED FLAG back then, because we were literally 16yo kids (he literally told me this when we were on his bed in his bedroom in the aforementioned misguided trip to his house). and i also saw it as a red flag bc…. just because i’m “loyal” and “nice” doesn’t mean that i’ll spend LITERAL Y E A R S trying to “fix you” while you fuck around and never bother to change your behaviour all bc you think it’s “girly” to do just that. it definitely DOES NOT MEAN that i’ll have KIDS with you, what the actual fuck. like i’m a hopeless romantic, to an extent, mr creeper. but not to the extent where i’ll give myself up to someone like you, all because i’m “nice and caring” and it’s apparently what “nice girls do!!!” or whatever else fucked up guilt trip views you’ve got on why girls/women supposedly have to waste their time with and on you.

and also, on another front. CBB never FOLLOWED me home (considering he lived in a suburb 20mins away from mine lmao and we both lived at least 15mins away from the catholic school we attended) despite me telling him REPEATEDLY to “fuck off and walk home your way”….. whereas unfortunately, mr creeper lived just over the other side of my suburb.

so one day mr creeper decided to stalk me home (despite me saying the above “fuck off and walk home your way” comment constantly to him in the 10min walk home). and then when we got to my street and in front of my house he decided to joke that “oh now i know where your house and bedroom are, i’ll come to hide under your bed naked one day!!!! and when you get home (bc i’ll obvs do it when you’re out doing something), you’ll just have to FUCK ME because you’ll be so surprised that im there and ready to fuck you!” as if i’d be so overcome with supposed lust & love for him, after knowing that he’d broken into my room against my will and messed with my shit….. all for some cutesy love prank…. like in, idk, love actually (???) or himym (specifically the “naked man!” episode from season 4) or some other shitty romcom. bc no. you’re overstepping SO MANY fucking boundaries that i’d literally call the police on your stupid fucking stalker ass. what the actual fuck.

finally, cbb never forced me to try to kiss him, unlike mr stalker…. who whenever he got the chance, he’d grab my head and force me to kiss him…. and then gave me back the utterly disgusting & controlling GALL to tell me that i was “kissing wrong” and whinge/bitch that i “wasn’t into it”. and then he’d force me to kiss him again with a “im so sorry does this fix it 🥰🥺???” like NO???!!! forcefully kissing me DOES NOT FUCKING FIX ANYTHING YOU STUPID CUNT! please just get the FUCK away from me. like if you force me into anything, of course i’m not going to enthusiastically enjoy it??? and moreover, don’t you think it’s YOU who is “kissing wrong” (whatever the FUCK that bullshit actually means) and not me???? why do you think GRABBING MY HEAD and FORCING me to kiss you is appropriate in ANY of these situations????

just. to end this. to anyone and everyone, regardless of their gender/sexuality/age etc. NEVER trust anyone who uses the term “girlfriend material”/“boyfriend material”, to describe you, most especially when you’ve JUST MET them.

they’re using it as a means to control you and possibly trap you into an unhealthy (or potentially abusive) relationship like i would’ve had with my stalker/creeper. but most especially, this goes out to my younger followers, if i have any. be aware of this. watch out for the small red flags and run at the earliest time.

[mcheang]

Based on the Instragram photo that Lila "insisted" Adrien to post. Fans saw it and feel like Lila is holding a gun to his back based on how uncomfortable Adrien looks in the pic. So they retaliate by hosting a "Protect Sunshine Boi from the Witch!" Rally at the next photoshoot. All lead by Wayhem. 😏

"Protect Sunshine Boi from the Witch!"

Devoted fans to Adrien have dutifully and enthusiastically followed his Instagram.

So when he decided to post that weird picture with Lila, they felt something was off.

They have seen hundreds of Adrien’s smiles from magazines, interviews and Instagram. Natural and blinding.

So why does Adrien’s smile look forced in this picture?

Is this Lila nobody holding a gun to his back?

Yeah, a lot of comments went up like this on the photo. Lila did not get the envious comments she had hoped for about her closeness to a model. Nope, she got criticism for making Adrien Agreste uncomfortable.

Adrien did not bother to defend her since he was too busy avoiding her. But Nathalie certainly noticed the uncomfortable tension and observed the public reaction.

Maybe it was best the teenagers did separate shoots from now on. Gabriel only promised her exposure, not his Son.

Wayhem himself contacted Adrien the day he posted the picture, asking who that Lila girl was.

Adrien: she's a classmate of mine. She somehow impressed my Father.

Wayhem had a bad impression of Gabriel Agreste. He disliked anyone decent like Nino. So for him to like Lila...

Wayhem: seriously Adrien, you looked so uncomfortable with that girl. She is not your Friend, is she?

Adrien hesitated. He had promised to pretend to be friends to save Marinette. But he didn’t want to lie to Wayhem. That was the start of this whole problem.

Adrien carefully said, “She is someone I have to be friends with.”

Wayhem saw through it. “Yeah, you are so forced into being her Friend.”

Adrien: what else can I do? If I push her away, she’ll turn on the dry waterworks and start throwing around accusations.

Wayhem: are all your friends so blind that they can’t see how she makes you uncomfortable?

Adrien: only Marinette. But that’s why I have to look like I’m friends with Lila. If I don’t, she’ll target Marinette.

Wayhem suddenly got a mischievous glint in his eye. “Ooh, first Kagami, now Marinette. Adrien, do you have a thing for Asian girls?”

Adrien laughed. “Don’t be silly. She’s just a Friend.”

For some reason, Wayhem felt an inexplicable desire to slam his head on the desk.

Wayhem: don’t worry Adrien. You can always turn to us if Lila gives you any trouble.

Adrien smiles. “I know.”

After their conversation was over, Wayhem frowned and mused over all he had learned. Lila was a bully, of that he was sure.

But before he decided to rally Adrien’s fan club to protest his new modelling partner, it was best to do research.

He called a few trustworthy fellow members and invited them to help him look into this Lila character.

Social accounts show Lila having an unbelievable and fantastical life. But with some missing logic. Wayhem’s eyebrows rose further as he scrolled down her Facebook.

If Lila had really been in Achu, why weren’t there pictures of her with the prince? Moreover those background photos could be found online...

Ok...why would Jagged Stone write a song about a minor? Also, the dude has been allergic to fur since way before Lila was born.

Ladybug’s BFF... seriously? Who even believes that? Chloe goes around parading it all the time but we see Queen Bee least of all. Moreover, Ladybug doesn’t seem to like Chloe. Also, even Hawkmoth doesn’t seem to be trying to target Lila beyond that Volpina’s first time. He must have learned the truth.

Research complete, Wayhem and his friends discussed the results.

What a wannabe.

Who even believes this trash?

I bet she fooled Gabriel with a fake resume

And now she’s sinking her claws into Adrien. Ugh!

We must stop her!

Together, they spread the word to the fan club.

Meet at Adrien’s next photoshoot. We are going to put a stop to this liar’s career.

Lila had been demanding people help her stop the fan hate comments. But Adrien told her she had to learn to deal with it as a model. In any case, they were doing separate photo shoots from now on, so people should let up.

Yeah, so not.

Imagine Adrien and Nathalie’s surprise to see protesters led by Wayhem with signs blaring out "Protect Sunshine Boi from the Witch!"

Adrien: why does everyone call me that?

Along with calling Lila a witch, there were also terms like liar and deceiver.

Nadja arrived to report this rally.

Wayhem was only too happy to tell her that Lila Rossi was a liar who had fooled Gabriel Agreste into letting her model with her Son; who obviously doesn’t feel comfortable with her.

This apparently makes it way over to Jagged and Ali who promptly sue Lila.

Lila’s Mother is aghast at what her daughter has caused, not to mention giving her trouble at work.

Gabriel faces criticism for believing flimsy lies.

The school is under investigation for not checking Lila’s Achu story.

Adrien is given lessons on how to identify and handle sexual harassment, insisted and taken by his friends too, who felt guilty for not recognising it themselves.

Oh, Hawkmoth definitely akumatized Lila into the Director, so as to brainwash people into believing her stories.

She was defeated with the help of Wayhem.

Lila is taken out of school and sent back to Italy to a private, remote, strict boarding school. She will obviously be in the spotlight for a while and Hawkmoth might take advantage of that. It was better that she leave Paris behind.

Marinette baked Wayhem and his friends a large cake in thanks.

[silentauroriamthereal]

hi! this is about the metabolic health post. hacking my metabolism is just what I'm trying to do. I'm a biology student so I have some notions about how the human body works but I would be very interested in learning more about it. are there any authors or books/publications you could recommend? it doesn't have to be just English, I also speak Spanish, German and French and as a live in Spain it might be useful to read European authors whose work is based on our local food culture. american authors are fine too though! the basics should be the same anyways. thanks!

Hey! So actually, the doctor whose methodology I follow is a Chinese Canadian, if that works for you! He’s a nephrologist who sort of accidentally became an expert in obesity and type 2 diabetes, since they so often go with kidney disease. His name is Jason Fung and he’s based in Toronto. He has several books now, but the first and best place to start is The Obesity Code. Basically he started by asking a question that the medical community didn’t have an answer for: why anyone would treat type 2 diabetes, wherein the body has become resistant to the effects of insulin, by prescribing more insulin and making the resistance problem progressively worse and worse. Insulin’s job is to take eaten energy (aka food) and convert it into blood glucose. If there’s already too much glucose in the blood cells, or the insulin has lost its effectiveness because there’s already too much of it, it won’t be able to perform the conversion and will be forced to store the food as fat (aka long-term energy storage rather than immediate-use energy) instead. So then type 2 diabetics typically already have a massive insulin resistance problem which has almost always already led to obesity and all of the related health problems/co-morbidities (hypertension, PCOS, heart disease, sleep apnea, asthma, plus all the other things like sore joints and generally lower body function, etc). To “treat” this by giving them MORE insulin and making all of these problems worse, is... not a great solution. Type 2 diabetics get told that their condition is progressive and irreversible. Dr. Fung basically said, “but what if we don’t treat an excess of insulin with more insulin?” and people scoffed at that completely. Metabolic problems aren’t a result of “calorie” imbalance, which is a meaningless way of measuring food and its effects on a body - metabolic problems are the result of hormone imbalance. 

When insulin is too high, it produces more of a hormone called ghrelin, which produces the sensation of hunger. Note that ghrelin can make you feel hungry regardless of how empty or full you are. It’s a signal that says “feed me”, whether or not you need to be fed. It’s that gnawing, irritating sensation of your stomach complaining about how it hasn’t been fed in 12 years, like a petulant cat. High insulin also suppresses a hormone called leptin, which regulates how satisfied or full we feel after eating. So in summation, if your insulin is too high, you’re: 1) not getting the ready energy you need, because your eaten energy is being stored as fat instead of glucose, 2) you’re hungry all the time, and 3) you’re not feeling satisfied when you do eat. It’s a lose-lose situation. A person with insulin resistance has low energy, so doing anything takes a lot more work than it would for another person. It’s easy for another person to say “just go for a walk!” or “I always feel so much more energized when I work out!”, without having any clue that it simply takes a LOT more energy for a person who is insulin resistant to do anything in the first place. Going through life in this condition costs a person more energy, period. AND then you can add the stigma of being overweight, the added cost of buying larger clothes, the fact that refined carbs are cheaper and poorer in nutrition in the first place (there’s a reason why poverty and obesity are STRONGLY linked!), that sugars (which includes anything that metabolizes as a sugar, aka all carbs, refined and unrefined) are an addictive substance (a 2019 study posited that sugar is actually more addictive than cocaine and heroin), etc etc. It’s REALLY hard to get out of the trap. 

But it’s possible, and Dr. Fung’s entire strategy is to control metabolic problems through how you eat, aka by eating fewer foods than produce a high insulin response. It seems almost too simple to work. It was my own GP who put me onto his work, back in late 2017. He said then that five years earlier, the medical community thought that Jason Fung was a nut for thinking you could control diabetes through diet alone (aka food, not “being on a diet”, which I reject wholesale), but five years later, he had all the clinical evidence, having reversed diabetes and obesity and all the assorted, related issues, in thousands of people. My GP had just come back from a conference on obesity and type 2 diabetes where Jason Fung had been the keynote speaker. I’m the sort of person who needs to know why something works, not just that it does, and my doctor knows that, so he suggested I read The Obesity Code and see if it resonated with me, and it did. Dr. Fung is also big into fasting, both intermittent and extended, and talks a lot about that, too. It’s the other, big prong in terms of allowing insulin levels to die down and eventually reprogram the hypothalamus, which is what regulates how much insulin is being produced in the first place, to reset itself. It’s hugely effective. I used to be one of the moderators for Jason’s facebook group and I’ve seen literally thousands of people’s journeys over the past three years now, obviously not from an up-close medical perspective, but yeah - it works. I get a full blood panel done every so often and I can easily say that I’m in better health now that I’ve been in since literal childhood, because I managed to fix my hormone imbalance. Dr. Fung also has heaps of youtube videos and such, which I’m just mentioning for anyone reading this who might not be a biology student and want something shorter/more accessible, but I will say that his writing is very accessible to the general public. You don’t need a medical degree to get what he’s talking about, at all! 

This is super long, but hit me up if you have more questions about any of it! (That goes for anyone reading this!)

[ebenenoir]

TW : Gossip about Pedro And SM (just so you know)

This boyfriend story is either a big confusion or a Pedro fan who wanted to add a rumor to  another one.... And honestly after what I heard from two SM fans, it wouldn't surprise me. After one blog posted the ask in which was given the first letters of the bf name, an acquaintance on a forum got the full name of the man from an Italian fan of Sebastiano and Pedro. She didn't want to give too much information and we understand her. Another friend was able to discuss at length with another fan of Sebastiano, the person answered all her questions. Frankly we thank this fan again because this person wasn't obliged to do so, especially since they received a lot of rude messages from Pedro's fans.... (hence why I think the rumor comes from a Pedro's fan). Since these are private messages and the people were nice, I'm not going to post them but know that I'm not making up anything or participating in whatever war Blog have. Still

Moreover, I trust the person  because the fan has been a SM's fans for years (before the movie favola), gave my friends details on Sebastiano's work for years and thelr social media are dedicated to him.

In summary: the rumor about the bf, A.V, wasn't about Sebastiano but about Sebastiano's ex-husband. FT and AV are friends and basically have the same type of life.  AV has many Italian celeb friends. The rumor came from the Facebook group dedicated to FT, not dedicated to SM. There are multiple dedicated to FT. The two biggest ones are public and private. (I checked it was true) Also, both fans have no knowledge of a secret  FB group for sebastiano. One said there was one that got deleted 2 years ago (he knows the mod). The fan doesn't understand why there would be a secret group knowing that the purpose is precisely to get people to be more interested in Sebastiano's work. The fan said several times that SM's fandom is small. The fan still said he will ask around tho Regarding the rumor that he would have been seen with Sebastiano, the fan said that he had not heard or seen anything like that. The only thing AV has in common with SM is his activism for gay rights in Italy, especially for the ddl zan law. (the controversy around the law has been in the news for months and SM is very spoken about it) the fan is sure that AV has never appeared in any of the SM instagram stories.

Regarding this story about FT fans being upset over the Pedro rumors it was confirmed by both fans. Actually both SM and FT fans want the two to get back together. (Which is... Weird considering what the fan told my friend on FT but okay🤷‍♀️). SM fans don't like Pedro fans because many have been horrible to sebastiano, his uncle and his father on Instagram. Sebastiano is a person who checks all the tags on him and sees the hate some people send him. (I think that's why the Italian Pedro fans preferred not to say anything the day of the table conversation , to avoid Sebastiano getting insulted later). SM deletes everything hateful and non - work related comments. Anyway, I wrote a long post about it but if you are one of the people who send hate, you should review your priorities asap. Regardless of your opinion, SM and Pedro are very close (so close that even SM's fans are convinced that there is more than platonic feelings, hence why most of them are "upset" by it ). You can forget about the work in Italy because of covid argument. The SM fan said that there was no obligation to have a professional reason to enter Italy for people coming from Switzerland or USA. (I was able to find something from the eu back from January that said the same thing) There were also rumors from non- SM fans  who said that they had seen Pedro at the airport in Italy earlier this year. If we add the anon posted by this blog from the beginning of the year, I think there is a good chance that this is true. I am still manifesting another haute couture shoot with Pedro tho.

[gyll-yee-haw]

Ok ok but think about this, Jake introducing you to his friends and his friends low key thirsting over you and he gets jealous af, and then he proceeds to make out with you in front of them, I- 🥺 (btw I hope you're doing well♥️)

Hi, babyyy!!! Thank you for being patient, I know this took ages... but I hope you enjoy it! 🥰

Warnings: making out in public, jealousy and a suggestive ending 🔥

---

Imagine that you and Jake are at a party at his friend's house

And he ended up bumping into one of those "friends" that he only saw like 3 times in his life and acts like they're close, you know? 🙄 lets call him Brad

You didn't know each other yet, but when you were introduced to him, something told you that he was gonna give you a headache

Cause he was already a bit drunk

And he couldn't greet you like a normal person, he already grabbed your hand and kissed the top of it

You forced a smile, but anyone could notice you hated it

Everyone but Brad apparently

Cause he started acting like your shadow, following you everywhere with the most uninteresting kinds of straight male conversations in the world

This is not relevant for the story but you just know Brad had a truck on his Facebook profile pic

Jake was really trying to have a nice time with his friends, but whenever he looked for you around the room, Brad was glued to you, talking to himself cause you were on your phone the entire time

Even your calculator settings were more interesting than him

And just when you thought someone was going to save you, take Brad somewhere else, no. Another man with the same energy joined him

Jake texted you asking if you were okay and you said yes, cause you just wanted him to enjoy the night, and the guys were boring, but they looked harmless, they weren't really crossing any lines

He insisted, saying that he would go there and save you

But you had a better idea. So you texted him saying "You don't have to… I've never heard so many compliments in my life. They're lowkey thirsting over me, it's hilarious."

You weren't lying, they didn't even ask your name and processed to simply call you "beautiful"

And that's when Jake had enough

You could see by the way he was walking towards you that he was furious

When he approached the group, Brad said: "Hey, man. We were discussing with this pretty lady right here how…"

But Jake interrupted him by pulling you by the waist and bringing you close to his body for a passionate kiss

"Hi, babygirl." He smiled to you. "Did you miss me?"

"So much, daddy." You smirked and pulled him by the shirt for another kiss

His hand squeezed your ass in a pretty indecent way, considering that you were in public, the way he always did when he was jealous

"Missed you too." He said, starting to kiss you neck, and you didn't hold back your moans, just like he wanted

The two men watched you with wide eyes, it was so awkward, but they just couldn't look away

You stood with his thigh between your legs and started to shamelessly rub yourself

"You dirty girl…" He chuckled. "Wanna go somewhere more private?"

"Yes, daddy." You held his hand and smirked

Then you walked away, leaving the guys absolutely speechless behind

When you were too distant for them to see you, Jake started to laugh "You are such a great actress, it wouldn't be this good if we planned it…"

"I wasn't acting…" You shrugged. "I really think we should go somewhere else…"

"Did you just tease me and make me jealous all night for me to take you home faster?" He raised his eyebrows

"Yes, and I believe you should punish me for this. Unacceptable." You shook your head

"You are unbelievable." He laughed. "I love you, my dirty girl."

[aerisahale]

Catharsis

Pairing: Clarke Griffin x Lexa kom Trikru Fandom: The 100 Length: 4,311 Summary:  Raven invites Clarke to stay at her house over Christmas break after the university forces all the students out of on-campus housing. Clarke doesn't expect to see her angry ex-boyfriend or the incredibly gorgeous friend of Anya's. Read it on AO3, if you prefer!

--

The chair to Clarke Griffin’s desk in her dorm room is the best seating in the small space and Raven Reyes is quick to throw herself down into it, bag hitting the ground with a thud. The bright lettering stands out against the mild background. Raven’s eyes are drawn to the flyer immediately. “Getting kicked out?”

“Just for the holidays. I have that extra semester to make up before it’s a full eviction,” Clarke says as she flops down onto her bed, her equally heavy bag hitting the floor hard.

“You going home?”

“Probably. Mom’s in Pakistan working at a Doctor’s Without Borders clinic that helps women and other refugees in the area, so I’ll have the house to myself.”

Squinting at her friend, Raven cocks her head. “Christmas alone?”

“It’s fine. I can catch up on The Mandalorian.”

“What did you do last year?”

Clarke sits up, eyes on the floor. “Bellamy and I went to his parent’s house.”

The remorse is easy to see on Raven’s face. “Sorry, Clarke. I know it’s still a sore subject.”

“It isn’t,” Clarke says quickly.

Too quickly. Raven raises a brow.

“It shouldn’t be,” she amends. “I ghosted him. Not the other way around.”

“You did the best thing for yourself. That doesn’t mean it’s not going to hurt.” Raven reaches out and places a comforting hand on her friend’s knee.

“It’s been almost a year. I really am mostly over it. This is just the first Christmas in years without him.”

“You’ve been through a lot together. Despite how it ended, you cared for each other for a long time and that means something. It will always mean something.” Raven smiles her warmest smile and squeezes the knee she’s resting her hand on before pulling it away to snap her fingers. “Listen. Come to my place. You can stay in the spare room. We’re even throwing a Christmas Party.”

Clarke looks hesitant so Raven throws in a drawn out please with her best pout until her friend gives in. “But nothing crazy.”

“Just a few friends, no worries.”

--

“Thanks again for having me over,” Clarke says as she takes sets out the trays of food Anya handed her. Lining them up neatly on the countertop of the kitchen pass-through window, Clarke takes an extra moment to observe them in the whole of the setting.

An enormous tree sparkles in multiple colors in the corner of the living room, near their fireplace. Garlands, lights, and holiday-themed décor are arranged perfectly throughout the public spaces, down to the Christmas linens and hand soap in the bathrooms. All the invited guests have a stocking hanging over the fireplace as a party favor and three gifts currently sat wrapped beneath the tree for the white-elephant gift exchange planned for later in the evening.

Clarke knows all the names but one. The first hanging from the mantle is Octavia’s. Octavia, Raven and Clarke had all gone to school together and Clarke used to date her brother. She and Octavia played soccer together for awhile until the latter had transferred schools mid-year in their sophomore year. They were fairly close until that happened.

The next is John Murphy’s. There were so many John’s in high school that everyone started calling him Murphy and it stuck. Murphy wasn’t always her favorite person, as her moral compass did not quite point in the same direction as his, but she did not foresee them having any issues. She had a particularly fond memory of a time where they both got called to the principal’s office—both for very different concerns—and they had shared a pair of headphones while waiting.

After his was Emori Emmerson’s. She only knew of her. They did not frequent any of the same social groups growing up, but she had fallen in with Raven and Murphy, the latter of which she was dating. As far as Raven told it, she was fun to be around and had the same sense of humor as Raven.

Nathan Miller and Eric Jackson followed Emori’s and Clarke hoped they were still together. They started dating in their junior year of high school and seemed like a picture-perfect couple. She still saw the occasional Facebook post of stunning settings such as where they held hands against the backdrop of a vivid sunset. If anyone was going to make it through as high-school sweethearts, it was them.

Remember when they said that about you and Bellamy? Her traitorous brain completes the thought before she can stop it and it makes her angry. She argues back, Remember all the times he blamed me for things that were out of my control? Like the time you refused sex because you were on your period?

Satisfaction makes her smile when nothing else decides to bubble to the surface. Focusing her attention on the final stocking, the name she doesn’t know intriguing the curious, non-traitorous part of her mind. Lexa. She finds herself whispering it under her breath, enjoying the feel of it rolling over her tongue.

A knock on the door pulls her attention and Raven claps her hands as she sets the napkins in her hand next to the plates that were beside Anya’s appetizers that Clarke had laid out. The front door opens to reveal Miller and Jackson first, gifts tucked under their arms as they each pull Raven into a hug with their free arms. Those three converse for a minute before Raven takes their jackets and hangs them in the breezeway closet while Jackson puts their gifts under the tree next to the other three.

Miller sees Clarke first and waves to her, Jackson’s attention going that way moments after. She moves to hug them both, greeting them. “How have you guys been? I’m so glad to see you!” Privately, she adds, Together.

The exchange pleasantries as Raven starts pressing buttons on their stereo system until Christmas pop spills out of the speakers distributed well throughout the house. Clarke can hear it coming from the kitchen even. The lights on the Christmas tree dance to the beat and Clarke knows Raven enjoyed setting that up.

Another knock finds John and Emori on the other side of the door and the couple enters. The conversations of seven people fill the house with chatter and laughter, swirling with the Christmas music and the emerging, mouthwatering scent of warm sugar wafting out of the kitchen. The dancing lights distract Clarke from the next guest that enters, letting the cheerful music sit in her soul like a hearth fire, warmth filling her bones. It’s not with regret that her eyes find the next guest, she just wishes she had been paying attention because the woman she finds steals her breath.

She only sucks in another when the stranger is coming towards her, guided towards the food by Raven. Clarke panics. She ducks into the kitchen and finds herself staring into the fridge for absolutely nothing. The amount of cheese sticks Raven has stuffed into the crisper drawer is concerning, however. At least its twin is actually packed with vegetables.

“Oh, Clarke!” she hears Raven say and she takes a moment to pre-compose her reply to the inevitable introduction. Armed with her most charming smile, she turns away from the cheese overload, closing the door behind her. “This is Lexa! She’s a friend of Anya’s.”

“Nice to meet you! I’m Clarke!” She holds out her hand and tries not to wince at how overly-perky she sounds. Raven gives her a weird look and she knows she’s doing too much. She tries to dial it down by three notches as she asks, “How do you know Anya?”

There is an awkward moment where Lexa just stares at Clarke and she begins to wonder if she forgot to ask the question out loud until Raven says, “They grew up together, a lot like we did.”

The doorbell rings and Raven excuses herself, leaving Clarke and Lexa alone in the kitchen, alone in the uncomfortable silence as Clarke mulls over the fact that the other woman has yet to say anything to her. She wonders if the silence was better when the woman trips over her speedy question, “You’re the pre-med student that Raven goes to school with?”

“Ah, yeah, yes. I graduate in April. I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage?”

“Sorry,” color warms her pale cheeks as Lexa clears her throat and says in a much more paced tone, “Anya mentioned you might be here. What is your major?”

“Double-majoring, actually. I have one more semester to get my Bio and Chem degrees. Then off to med school.”

“You’ve already taken the MCATs?” the woman asks and Clarke is caught off guard.

“Yeah! Took them in my junior year to save time. I start at Harvard Med right after graduation.”

Surprise widens the woman’s green eyes and Clarke’s heart races. “I will be attending Harvard in January.”

“Small world,” Clarke jokes in an attempt to soothe her nerves. “What are you studying?”

Lexa smiles and the house around Clarke is spinning giddy circles to match the butterflies in her chest. “I also took the LSAT in my junior year. I just finished a double in Poli-Sci and History.”

“A lawyer!”

“Indeed. The real goal is to get into Congress, down the road. I hope for more, but that is my realistic goal.”

“That’s amazing! I have this feeling that you would be impressive at it.” Lexa smiles wide. “Thank you, Clarke.”

The way Lexa’s voice pops on the K of her name has Clarke wondering what she would sounds like if Clarke had her quivering under her mouth and the way Lexa is looking right through her, as if she can read her thoughts, has heat creeping up her neck and across her face. To distract herself, she turns towards the living room, surveying through the pass-through window.

Her eyes lock with familiar ones, the last ones she ever wanted to see again. His eyes were already on her and she feels trapped all over again. She spins around and suddenly finds herself breathing heavily. Lexa lays a hand on her back, rubbing a soothing circle as Clarke continues to chase her breath.

She turns back towards the party to see Raven looking at her with concern, mouthing, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know’ and Bellamy just behind her, eyes locked on the spot on her arm that Lexa’s hand gently remains. Only when Lexa’s arm drops back to her side does Bellamy say coldly, at odds with the words themselves, “Nice to see you again, Clarke.”

“Wish I could say the same!” Clarke blurts before pushing past him and beating a hasty retreat to the far corner of the living room.

Octavia finds her shortly and fills her in on what she has been doing, over the years. She keeps glancing at the kitchen door but she doesn’t think Bellamy has left there yet. Chuckling weakly at a joke that Octavia made, she jumps when Bellamy is suddenly at Octavia’s elbow, eyebrows drawn in anger. He speaks quietly enough that Octavia and Clarke are the only ones to hear him. “Why are you joking around with her?”

“We were friends before I switched schools, Bells.”

His voice rises slightly louder, people close to them glancing towards the group. “Friends? You don’t even know what you’re saying, Octavia.”

“Bellamy.” Clarke says his name in warning at the same time as Octavia tells him to stop making a scene.

“No, I think it’s time you—it’s time everyone knew the real Clarke Griffin,” Bellamy raises his voice, the conversation in the house falling silent as everyone focused in on them in the corner. The cheerful Christmas music and rhythmically twinkling lights at odds with the suddenly tense air. “You changed schools because of Clarke.”

“What?” Octavia asks. “What are you talking about? What is he talking about, Clarke?”

Shame fills every inch of Clarke as she stares at the ground, all eyes on her. Torn between running and praying a miraculous sinkhole swallowed her and only her, Clarke stays rooted to the spot. She tries to look at Octavia but can’t meet her confused gaze.

“Clarke planted the drugs in your locker that got you expelled from Arkadia High.”

The chill in Octavia’s voice actually makes Clarke shiver and she finally gathers the courage to meet her former friend’s furious eyes, “Explain, Clarke.”

“You…You all know how…competitive and ambitious I was in high school. I…put the drugs in your backpack the day before and then told the school officer about them. I thought it would just get you kicked off the team! We were both up for Captain and—at the time I thought it was what I had to do to win. I was young and dumb. I swear I had no idea you would be expelled. Please, Octavia, I’m so sorry.”

Octavia doesn’t say another word, storming out of the front door. Clarke is quick to follow, just behind her as the dark-haired woman keeps her steady march towards, well, Clarke isn’t really sure. Suddenly, she stops and whips around, finger pointed right at Clarke, jamming it into her collar bone to enunciate her words.

“You never told me? You never owned up to it? Even after you saw the consequences of those actions?”

“Octavia, I’m so sorry. Nothing I can say can ever make up for that.”

“I had to go to court!” Stab. “I had to go to therapy!” Stab. “No one believed they weren’t mine.” Stab. “Except Bellamy, and I guess I know why now.”

“No, no!” Clarke is quick to say, pleading with her eyes. “Octavia he always believed you. I only told him later when I was beyond drunk and feeling extremely guilty. I swear, he was always on your side.”

“And the worst fucking part, Clarke? Is that you lied! For all these years.”

“Please, Octavia. I know I can never make it up to you now, but you have to know, if I could go back and do it over, I would never have done it. I hated the person I was and I’ve learned from those choices. I choose every day to be a better person. I’m becoming a doctor to save lives, not ruin them. Maybe that’s why, if I’m being honest.”

The anger drains out of Octavia and Clarke holds her breath. “I was angry for a long time. I never knew how they got there. I did a lot of unsafe, unhealthy things that I regret while coping with that anger.”

“I’m so sorry,” Clarke breathes out.

“Look, I’m trying to say: I get it. We all have done things we’re ashamed of. All we can do is move forward and be a better person than we were yesterday. I definitely can’t forgive you yet, but let’s take it a day at a time and not let this ruin Christmas any more than it has.”

Clarke admires the woman Octavia has become, wonders what she went through to become this level-headed woman before her. In high school, Octavia would hold the longest grudges. Quick to anger and quick to give it a home adjacent to her heart where she would house it forever. It is part of the reason Clarke could never come clean about what happened.

Octavia heads back in, but Clarke stays in the cold a moment longer, taking a few deep breaths to calm her emotions before following back into the warmth. The Christmas music filled the quiet house, as everyone murmured quietly to one another. Bellamy stood in the back and it looked like he was quietly arguing with Octavia.

It took the party a while to lose the tense atmosphere, but it eventually did. Clarke kept near Raven, worried what the others must think of her, learning one of her deepest regrets. Not too long after the conversation picked back up, Raven pulled out a game of Pictionary and divided the group into teams. One team had Raven, Anya, Clarke, Bellamy, and Lexa and the other had Octavia, Miller, Jackson, Murphy, and Emori.

Clarke is chosen to draw first, and after Emori earned her team 4 spaces on the board, the turn passed to her. The first things she had to draw was stained glass. A church window came to mind and she quickly sketched Saint Mary as the centerpiece to a Curved window with lines to represent the where the glass was different colored. She thought this was going to be hard for any of them to guess but Lexa guessed correctly at the same time as Bellamy shouted, “Mary, the mother of Jesus!”

“Yes, but not exactly correct. Lexa got it, though. Roll for us?” Clarke tried to say it as gently as possible.

It turned into a competition between the two, or at least, as far as Bellamy was concerned. Every time it was Clarke’s turn to draw he would try to shout over Lexa, usually incorrectly. He would glare every time Lexa was right and he was wrong. Eventually, the game ended and Clarke’s team won, but barely. Despite the problematic moments, Clarke really relished how well Lexa got her.

She offers to help clean up as Lexa starts doing it. They gathered up the pieces and fit it all neatly back into the box. Clarke smiles at her. “Let me show you where it goes.”

Clarke leads her down the hallway to a closet and opens the door for her. She reaches in and turns the light on towards the side and Lexa slides past her to add the box to the stack of board games already in there. As Lexa turns to leave, she caught Clarke looking up and swallowing. She follows her gaze. Mistletoe.

Clarke glances back down in time to watch Lexa’s eyes dart up and she suddenly realizes how close the two are. She chuckles and attempts a joke, “Who puts mistletoe over a closet door? I feel like this is some sort of ‘coming out of the closet’ joke.”

“We don’t have to—” Lexa starts.

“But it is tradition—” Clarke stumbles.

“It is—" Lexa gets out before she’s crashing her lips into Clarke’s, missing by slightly too much before she pulls back and finds her center, placing a proper kiss on the shorter woman. Clarke moans into it, surprising herself, as she parts her lips for Lexa’s tongue that wastes no time in seeking askance.

It’s over as soon as it starts, as the sound of a toilet flushing just further down the hall has them pulling apart. Bellamy emerges and there’s no making excuses for what they’d just been doing. Anger further clouds Bellamy’s face as he says, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

He storms past them and down the hall, turning back to shout. “Good riddance, you fucking slut.”

Octavia’s reply in the second sudden silence of the party at Bellamy’s hands issues down the hall, “You did not just slut-shame someone.”

“Yeah, I fucking did. Clarke is down her making out with Lexa after she fucking ghosted me.”

Clarke and Lexa head back out to the scene being made about them in the living room. All eyes are once again on Clarke as she confronts her ex-boyfriend. “You act like this, Bellamy! You act like this and worse, all the time. This is why I left you!”

“We spent years together and now you’re fucking some random chick!”

“First of all, it’s been almost a year since we broke up. Second of all, we were not fucking, clearly.”

“Third, she can do whatever she wants!” Octavia intercedes. “We don’t slut-shame in this house.”

“Once again, O, you have no idea what you’re talking about. The things Clarke and I have been through together mean something.”

“Look-“ Clarke starts to say, but Bellamy is hearing none of it, already set on his path.

“She was a secret fucking teen mom and now she’s hooking up with a stranger in her friend’s fucking closet. This is ridiculous. I’m glad I broke up with her. I clearly don’t know her at all.”

“What the fuck, Bellamy,” Clarke growls. “It took two to be that fucking teen mom!”

“Teen mom, for a minute, anyway. I’m fucking out. Fuck this shit.” He slams the door behind him and Clarke sways. Lexa is at her elbow and quickly has an arm around her waist.

“Let’s go sit down, okay?”

She lets the other woman guide her to the couch, taking a seat beside her. The soothing hand from earlier is back, rubbing circles into her back, and this time, Clarke leans into it. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, building a dam around the tsunami of emotions coursing through her, knowing her friends want an explanation.

Lexa is a silent but reassuring presence at her side. Raven looks heartbroken. Octavia is furious. The others wear looks of mild concern to curiosity. Raven is the first to break the silence, “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“I—I want to. It’s time. It’s been years. I got pregnant in senior year. Bellamy’s, of course. It’s why I worked so hard to graduate early and why I took classes online for the first three semesters. I gave birth to a beautiful, amazing, healthy baby girl, but I wasn’t ready to be a mom. So, she was adopted by this lovely couple with enough money and time to give her an amazing life that I wasn’t sure I could guarantee her.”

She takes a few deep breaths, bolstered by the hand on her back, by the awe on her friend’s faces, by the love. “I was really depressed for months afterwards. Bellamy always supported my choice, he just didn’t get it, you know? I joined a Post-Partum Depression support group and ended up becoming friends with this other woman who also gave up her child and was experiencing a lot of the same feelings I was. Eventually, I worked through it.”

“I was different afterwards, and so was Bellamy. He was irritable, blamed me for a lot of things that weren’t my fault. I think deep down, even beyond admitting it to himself, that he blamed me for us not having our child with us. I think he felt pressured to support whatever decision I made and never voiced any of his feelings on it and it led to the rift that formed between us, until, one day, I just left.”

All of the shame and guilt that Clarke has carried with her for years felt lighter. Something else had changed tonight, and Bellamy was still an asshole, but it was all cathartic in some way. She smiles over at Lexa. “Nothing like meeting a cute girl and finding out all her deepest, darkest secrets, am I right?”

Lexa laughs and everyone else joins in. The atmosphere lightens and people begin a few side conversations. Raven throws herself into Clarke’s lap and pulls her into a tight embrace. “I love you, Clarke. I’m so sorry that this all happened tonight, but I hope it turns into something that helps you heal. I’m always here for you.”

“I love you, too, Raven. We should probably talk more about it, but later.”

“Oh, and, by the way, there might be some mistletoe hiding up there above the couch!” Raven points as she darts off Clarke’s lap, leaving her next to just Lexa, who she pulls into another kiss, drawing hollers from the crowd. “You owe me ten bucks,” she hears from John Murphy and she breaks the kiss in laughter.

“I know it’s been a pretty intense night, but I really am pretty attracted to you and I heard I might be living in the same city as you in a few months.”

“I feel the same way, Clarke. Following the tradition of candor this evening, Anya hoped we might hit it off tonight. She told me all about you and I was so stunned by how beautiful you are, I forgot how to talk when she introduced me.”

“Let’s exchange numbers for now and we can see how things play out once I move out there?”

Lexa smiles and kisses Clarke again. “I’ll miss these lips, but that sounds good.”

-- One Year Later --

“We’re going to Raven and Anya’s for Christmas, right?” Clarke asks.

“That’s the plan. Is Bellamy going to be there?”

“He is,” Clarke begins, stopping Lexa’s protests with, “but he’s bringing his girlfriend, and he seems to really be working on himself. However, in honor of last year, I proposed a new game to Raven. Confessions: The Game of Secrets and Lies. With a few custom added cards to carry on the tradition of last year, but it’s his turn.”

“Clarke.” Lexa frowns.

“All in good nature! I promise. Not like he was. Besides, it was pretty smooth sailing for us after all that!”

“Just because it worked out for us, that doesn’t make it a good model to cementing the foundation of a new relationship.”

“Okay, but it made mine and Octavia’s relationship even stronger!” Clarke adds with a sweet smile at her girlfriend. “Fine! Without the custom cards. Maybe. I reserve the right to be petty.”

“I am really glad I met you that night.”

“Maybe there will be more mistletoe!”

“Any excuse to kiss me?”

“As if I need an excuse! No, this party I’m going for scandalous!” Clarke directs a devilish smirk towards Lexa. “Gotta keep ‘em guessing.”

Lexa laughs. “Alright, scandalous, it is. Let’s practice right now.”

Clarke groans as Lexa bites right into the spot she knows drives her crazy. Their clothes hit the floor as they make their way towards their bedroom, thoughts of Christmas parties long gone.

[essaysbyciara]

Long Shot

Wanted to share this here. My other essayist work can be found on Medium. 

I signed into an old Gmail account in hopes of finding a picture of him. His smile would melt me. And I always knew the right words to say to make it come forth. He was a street dude, so he didn’t smile often. He’s a Black man so he thought he couldn’t smile at all. But when he did, it felt like the world stopped. The moon couldn’t touch how much he illuminated when he parted his lips just to show his signs of approval.

No luck with finding a picture. I was sure I saved one in the depths of that inbox. So I Googled his name. And found a picture of him. My heartbeat grew.

I hope you’re still writing. I found one of your old blogs the other day. Dude, you were incredible. Are.

He possessed a wicked sense of humor that I often couldn’t contain. He knew how to make the mundane funny, how to make everyday life seem like a movie. He wrote about living in the city that hated his existence. And made that enjoyable. He overflowed with jokes, would burst with laughter.

But he didn’t know when to stop. We almost got into a physical altercation about it. I remember when we argued and he thought throwing in a joke would make me feel better. It never did. I almost hit him in public. He laughed when I found myself nose-to-nose with him, ready to strike.

I hope all is well with you. You were on my mind so I figured I’d give this a shot…

We met when we were seniors in high school. On the Internet. I found refuge in the early aughts of social networking. High school politics — as shallow and banal as they were — became too much to bear. Boys never talked to me in person but they did on the Internet. So where I felt desired, I went. And went hard.

He was amazed that I loved sports. That I could riff off any football reference imaginable. He would call me at night after his parents went to sleep. Our conversations were too grown for the both of us.

When he went off to college, we stopped talking. He found himself in a relationship so I played my position and waited for them to break up like most young couples do.

He sent me an instant message when he moved back to Philadelphia. I was a sophomore at Drexel, so he knew he could find me. We finally met for the first time outside of my internship. We walked around Center City. He snuck a kiss before I got on the elevator.

I completely understand if you don’t respond to this email. It’s been a minute, I know…

He called me a “bitch”. Told me often that I should kill myself. I went to visit him one year and he kicked me out. I knew southwest Philly well enough to get home.

Our relationship, at its core, was emotionally abusive. We never came to blows but we talked to each other like we would. But we played the dangerous game of always making up. Weeks after he kicked me out of his apartment, he asked me if I “was good”. I told him off and that was the end of us.

If this email does find you and you want to respond, feel free. You don’t have to though. I’d understand.

Three years ago, I messaged him on Facebook. He responded quickly and called soon after. We talked about life, sports, everything. Then he told me that he “loved” me and that our love for each other was the reason why we couldn’t stay away from each other. I knew it wasn’t that.

I knew it was familiarity laced with convenience. When we needed someone, we knew we’d always have each other. When we needed that human fix, we’d find each other. We went back because we never closed the door on us. And we knew it. I knew he’d always be around even when it was in my best interest to leave him alone.

I know this message is random (and it may not find you at all)…

Flesh is overpowering and I hate it. I missed intimacy and companionship so much that I reached out to every past, present and future romantic lead that I had. Because of God’s sense of humor, no one responded. When I went searching for him, I couldn’t find him on Facebook. But I did come across a picture of his son. The son he had right after we ended things. He has the same smile as his Daddy.

I melted.

[saturnznct]

previous / next

series masterlist

part 29 - you really turned me on

word count: 2904 words

warning: HEAVILY implied sex, brief mentions of drugs & alcohol

————-

It was Saturday morning. Hyewon wakes up around 11am, stretching slowly and rubbing her tired eyes. She makes grabby hands at her phone, which lay under her pillow. She pulls it out, groaning as she reads the time.

Hyewon has a light headache, born from the wine she had drunk with her roommate Sakura the previous night.

She had needed it, the anxiety of tonight’s meeting with Jaemin eating at her.

She had been surprised, to say the least, when she first received a message from Jaemin asking to talk. They had not ended on good terms at all, considering he found out she had cheated on him at a party. She hadn’t lied to him when she told him she didn’t feel all that guilty. He hadn’t spoken to her since then, only brief awkward conversations when he had came to do mundane break up rituals like pick up some his stuff.

Hyewon didn’t fully understand why he wanted to see her that bad.

She first realised she wanted him back when one; the guy she had cheated on him with (his name was Daehwi) ended up walking out on her three months into their ‘relationship,’ and two; she saw him with you.

It was a warm summer night, humid and golden, when she first saw the two of you walk into the coffee shop hand in hand, huge goofy smiles on your faces.

She usually went there to study, the lighting was nice, drinks were good and the baristas were kind and friendly.

Jaemin didn’t notice her, probably because he was far too enamoured with your presence. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the two of you, watching you try desperately to wiggle out of Jaemin’s arms and trying to duck away from his kisses, exclaiming ‘we’re in public Jaem,’ while giggling hard.

She watched you protest as he paid for both of your drinks, and listened to the barista comment on how lovely a couple you were.

Her heart wrenched when she saw him hold the door open for you and move to the side to let you out first.

He looked happy, and that made her sick. She should be you.

She had felt the guilt hit her all at once, making her feel as though she’d been hit by a truck. Hyewon felt hot, and felt pain and self-hatred burn through her veins and brain, making her feel like she could pass out. She stared hard at the door for what felt like hours.

The nice barista Nako eventually came over to ask her if she was ok, to which she just smiled hard and murmured a ‘yes. I’m fine.’

He felt unattainable, because he was. There was no way to get him back, he was with you, and even if he wasn’t, he would never even think of looking in her direction again.

She had nothing she could use against you, she had scoured your Instagram, Twitter, Facebook and any social media accounts she could find. She felt like a stalker. She knew your friends, what you were studying, what parties you and your boyfriend would show up to on the weekends.

Two years later, she found herself at the exact same college as the two of you. She had begun to forget and swallow the guilt and pain that had previously caused lumps in her throat and her heart to become heavy.

Hyewon hoped she could’ve moved on during these transformative years.

But then she saw you. She saw you for the first time on campus, sitting under a huge oak tree on top of a small hill, surrounded by your three best friends.

It was September, it was still somewhat warm, so you were dressed in a mid-thigh gingham dress, your hair flowing in the wind. You had a large notepad resting on your thighs and were laughing hysterically at something one of your friends had said.

She first recognised Chaeryeong, then noticed Mina when she moved her stray hair away from her face, and then assumed the girl with her back to her was Doyeon.

What the four girls didn’t notice was the two boys heading up the small incline towards them.

She heard you shriek as Jaemin grabbed your sides and squeezed hard, surprising you and making you fall into your sides. She could’ve heard your loud giggles from miles away.

Hyewon tried so hard not to watch, but couldn’t help see Jaemin drape his jacket around you while you stubbornly protested.

The first time that either of you had ever noticed her was at an NCT frat party. She’d been hanging out with her friends, when they’d thrust their solo cups at her, requesting refills of their drinks. She had playfully rolled her eyes and laughed, giving them a ‘fine then,’ and making her way towards the kitchen.

There she saw you, Jaemin, Jeno, an older guy she believed to be Doyoung, and a few of the other older guys talking animatedly about something.

You and Jaemin were leaning against one of the counters, Jaemin in one of his light blue denim jackets she always used to love him in, his arm lazily wrapped around your shoulder, forearm hanging over your front. One of your hands was absentmindedly playing with his fingers, the other holding your cup.

You were smiling, hard, laughing at something that was being said.

Hyewon tried hard to skirt around the kitchen without making eye contact. It wouldn’t be too hard considering the sheer size of the room - the NCT house was huge.

It was the clunk of the vodka bottle hitting the surface of the counter that prompted Jaemin to glance over, wondering what caused the sound.

The two of them locked eyes, and his gaze immediately hardened. You hadn’t noticed, and Hyewon tried hard to avert her gaze, but she could still feel Jaemin’s eyes burning holes into her skin.

‘Are you ok love?’ She heard you say.

Jaemin turned back to you, and said ‘everything’s perfect,’ before quickly pecking you on the lips and turning back to the conversation.

The day Hyewon found out that you were pregnant were probably among the worst of her life. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from your Instagram posts, the image of your ultrasound photo burning hard into her retinas. All she could feel was intense jealousy, pain and grief. She felt as though she’d lost something that wasn’t even hers, she wished she was you.

She tried hard, so hard to pretend it wasn’t happening. For several days she tried to block it from her mind.

Until she saw you and Jeno at the cafe. Jeno seemed distressed, and you occasionally leaned over and touched his shoulder. And that’s when, the plan, the scheme formed in her mind. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, quickly snapping a photo. She opens twitter, making a burner account-

‘Oi!’ Hyewon was interrupted from her thoughts by the sound of her roommate yelling.

Her door brutally swings open, Sakura flying into the room, jumping onto Hyewon.

‘Fucking stop it,’ Hyewon laughed.

Sakura rolls off of her, flopping down onto the space next to her.

‘You have your date tonight,’ she singsonged, laughing.

‘I do,’ Hyewon nodded, suddenly feeling very nervous.

‘Hey, you’ve got nothing to worry about,’ Sakura says, ‘I don’t know who your mystery boy is, but I’m sure he’ll love you. He’d be so stupid not to.’

‘I hope so,’ Hyewon whispers.

Sakura leaves the room, giving Hyewon an ‘I’ve got to go to work now, good luck!!’

It’s six hours later when Hyewon rounds the corner of Jaemin’s apartment complex, the gold foil wrapped around the neck of the champagne bottle digging into the skin of her fingers. She grips it tightly, trying to dispel the anxiety.

When reaching Jaemin’s door, she holds up her closed fist and knocked softly. She hears shifting from inside, then the sound of a key slotting into the keyhole and turning.

The front door to the apartment swings open revealing Jaemin.

She smiles at him, and he smiles at her back.

‘Feels like our first date again,’ she says without thinking.

‘You know what? Yeah, it does,’ he says, before stepping aside, ‘come in.’

Hyewon walks into the apartment, which is lit up with soft golden lights.

‘Pretty,’ she mumbles.

‘C’mon,’ he says, softly grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards the kitchen.

Hyewon realises that she’s never actually seen his apartment. He still lived with his parents when they were together, so the environment she was currently in felt foreign.

There was a small table and two chairs under the window in the kitchen, which had nothing on it. He noticed her staring.

‘Y/N used to sit there,’ he mumbles, ‘not anymore,’ he bows his head.

‘Don’t think about her,’ Hyewon says, moving towards him, trying to grab ahold of his hands.

‘I’m not, I’m not,’ he reassures her.

‘You know what, let’s sit for a bit,’ Jaemin suggests.

‘Sure,’ she says, turning around and following Jaemin into his living room.

He sits down on the couch, his arm naturally moving to cover the expanse of the frame. For a second Hyewon doesn’t know where to sit, not wanting to overstep boundaries too quickly.

She sits beside him, maybe a quarter foot away from him, leaning back against his arm.

Jaemin looks at Hyewon for a second before encouraging her to move closer him, so that her head was almost touching his shoulder.

‘This reminds me of high school,’ he murmurs.

‘I thought you wanted that,’ she smiles.

‘I do,’ he speaks softly, ‘and like I said, you make it so easy.’

‘That makes me so happy.’

‘And that makes me happy.’

She giggles and finally feels comfortable enough to lean into him. For a moment she believes that he tenses, as though he’s uncomfortable, but she writes it off as maybe him flexing.

She sighs, feeling so glad she’s finally gotten what she wanted.

‘We had some good times in high school, huh?’ Jaemin laughs.

‘Oh god,’ Hyewon begins to laugh, ‘like our experiments with alcohol.’

‘And the occasional weed.’

She laughs harder than she has in a long time, reminiscing on the times when she had him. She doesn’t want to lose him again.

‘Jaem,’ she feels him tense again, ‘I’ve missed you so fucking much. I’m so sorry for fucking it all up, I truly did love you so much.’

He looks at her blankly for a few seconds, before smiling, ‘I know, at least you’re here now.’

‘For as long as you want me to be.’

She sits up, turning her hips around and placing her hands on her shoulders.

‘I’m not gonna leave now.’

He doesn’t protest, so she takes that as the go-ahead to move closer to him.

He doesn’t move, and she moves her hands up from his shoulders to the sides of his neck, touching his jawline with her thumbs. She leaned forward, inching closer and closer until their lips were nearly touching-

‘I can’t believe you,’ Jaemin suddenly murmured.

She pulled back slightly.

‘What?’

‘Did..’ he paused, ‘you really think I’d just..’

‘What...’

He stands up, almost aggressively.

‘Did you really fucking think that once you sent me those photos I’d just ditch everything to come running back to you?’

Hyewon was shellshocked. She felt cold, like someone had just put her in ice.

‘You thought I would just leave the woman who’s carrying my fucking child, for someone else?’

‘I didn’t send you any photos,’ she lied.

‘Bullshit!’ He seethes.

There’s a long silence as they stare at each other.

‘Don’t you fucking dare trying to come in here and wreck my life again! For once, for fucking once I’m in a happy, loving and trusting relationship and you have to try and fuck that up for me!’

She presses her lips together, tears filling her eyes as she tries to blink them away.

‘H-how would you know if I tried to ruin your relationship! Stop fucking assuming that I jump at the chance to ruin your life!’

‘But you do! You do jump at the fucking chance to ruin everything! And how I know?’ His voice suddenly becomes a lot calmer, ‘your sister is a lovely girl.’

Her eyes widen as she scoffs, looking at him in disbelief.

‘She couldn’t sit and watch as you tried to destroy a family. At least she’s got some fucking morals unlike you.’

He suddenly looks towards the doorway.

‘Oh shit, sorry gorgeous, did I wake you?’

He rushes towards you, where you’re standing, with a hand on your stomach.

‘I’m ok- I’m fine Jaem!’ you exclaim, putting your hand on his shoulder.

You suddenly avert your gaze to Hyewon, who’s still standing, seething and rolling her fists into balls, glaring daggers at you.

‘Your sister,’ you smiled, ‘she’s lovely.’

You turned around and walked back towards your bedroom.

‘You better be fucking kidding,’ Hyewon raged, ‘What was the fucking point of this? To humiliate me.’

‘If I told you to back off, you’d just come straight back. I fucking know you, you don’t know when to stop.’

Hyewon knows he’s right. She wouldn’t have stopped.

‘So what? It was all fake? The public argument? All of the shit you told me?’

‘Pretty much. Everything right down to the conversation Y/N and Chaeryeong had on the field, just loud enough for you to hear.’

‘So all that shit you said to me over text-‘

‘No, that was all true. You do make me feel young. But I lied when I said I wanted to feel young again. I’m quite happy with being an adult.’

‘After I pour my fucking heart out to you-‘

‘I don’t think you meant any of it Hyewon. You don’t want me. You want teenage Jaemin. You want the younger me. and doesn’t really exist anymore so,’ he walks toward her, trying to encourage her to move towards the door. She complies.

‘To make this crystal fucking clear, I don’t ever want to see you ever again,’ he opens the door, ‘stay the fuck away from me, stay the fuck away from Y/N, and most importantly, stay the fuck away from my family.’

He shuts the door.

‘Is it bad you just really turned me on,’ Jaemin heard your voice from behind him.

He turned around, to see you standing in your bedroom doorway.

‘Is that so,’ he makes his way over to you, putting his hands on either side of your waist, caressing your bump with his thumbs. Your hands join together at the back of his neck.

‘I’m gonna have to do something about that,’ he mumbles.

You squeal as he gently pushes you into the room.

After your— antics, he collapses on his front next to you, breathing heavily.

‘I missed you so much,’ he says.

‘I missed you too.’

Jaemin begins to move towards you, but you interrupt him, ‘I should go pee first.’

You do your business in the bathroom, before coming back out.

You assumed he’d be on his phone, holding it up in front of his face with both hands, but instead he’s looking at you, with eyes full of love.

You cover your face, embarrassed, before climbing back into bed, suddenly feeling cold.

He immediately pulls you towards him, his head resting in your neck, and his arm snaking around your middle, just above your bump and under your chest.

‘I would’ve thought you’d be all over bump by now,’ you mumble, fighting to keep awake as you ran your fingers through his hair.

He hums, inhaling before murmuring, ‘just want you now.’

‘Not even our baby,’ you shake your head in mock disappointment.

He laughs quietly, before shuffling down to face your stomach. He’s silent for a few seconds, setting both hands on either side. Your hands are still in his hair.

‘I love you.’

You don’t respond because you know he’s not talking to you.

‘I’m scared shitless-‘

‘No swearing Jaem-‘

‘Sorry. Your mum/mom is so protective of you. I suppose I am too...’

You’re not paying complete attention, treating the conversation as though it’s just between Jaemin and the baby.

‘You terrify me. You really do. I don’t know if I’m gonna be a good dad. I could do a fucking awful job, and I’m sorry in advance I guess. But I promise I’ll never ever let anyone come between us ever again.’

At this point you’re falling into unconsciousness, your brain tuning out whatever he’s saying.

You feel him shifting, moving back up the bed towards you. You’re in the same position as earlier, except your head is in his neck now.

‘How was your week with the girls?’ Jaemin asks.

‘It was fun,’ you whispered, ‘but I missed you so much.’

‘I missed you so much too. But now I have you all to myself.’

You smile, burrowing into him a bit further.

‘We have two weeks until we find out what this baby is,’ you say.

‘It’s a baby.’

‘Shut the fuck up, you know what I mean!’

‘I’m not sure what I think it is,’ Jaemin says.

‘I’m not sure either.’

‘I’ll be really happy either way,’ he says.

‘Me too. I don’t really mind.’

‘I’m so happy.’

It’s the last thing you hear him say before you fall asleep.

uh so I hope this wasn’t awful😭 imma proofread this in the morning so if there are any mistakes I’m sorry😭 I saw that a lot of y’all wanted a nomin moment so had to include that lil bit at the end🤪

taglist (send me an ask if you’d like to be added!!);

@wendyaftrnn @kayleegglass @jaeminparadise @ncityy04 @mark-zone @soleilchannie @k-n-e-o @kiyeowooncity @thatanonymousgirl-as14 @peachykrystal @jesusagrees @moloprint

couldn’t tag;

@freshwitchpost @r2njun @greentea-beach

[starrybethany]

Leon Draisaitl: Glorious by Macklemore

Word count: 3004

Music video link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7OrLroFa0AI

Lyrics link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSFz3NRSSc4

You know I'm back like I never left

Another sprint, another step

Another day, another breath

I take a deep breath, pushing open the door to the small building that was once my everything. Now, my company is spread across the continent in multiple stores. My heels click softly on the tile that I spent two hours picking out as I step inside the building, watching as everyone slowly turns to see who entered.

“Boss, we heard you were coming back but we just didn’t know when!” Veronica, my old assistant and closest friend here in Edmonton, pulls me into a tight hug.

I’m surprised by the kind greeting. Contact with all of the employees here in Edmonton fell apart except for being FaceBook friends when I opened the headquarters in Miami and started working out of there, so I just assumed they didn’t like me anymore.

And they aren’t the only people that I assumed didn’t want to speak to me anymore.

Been chasing dreams, but I never slept

I got a new attitude and a lease on life

And some peace of mind

“So to recap, we’re moving the headquarters from Miami back to Edmonton, keeping this store open to advertise it as our original location, and we’re opening the branch in Winnipeg to become the seventy sixth branch. Any questions?” I ask, scanning the room before ending the meeting.

The employees converse amongst each other as they exit the room and I stack my papers up, letting out a sigh of confidence. I’m very excited for this new step in my career, and I’m even more excited to be back in my home city of Edmonton.

A loud squeal snaps me out of my thoughts and I look up to see Veronica stepping forward to wrap me up in a large hug.

“You did so good, I’m so proud of you! Wow, you’ve really changed a lot in four years- but in a good way. You just look so happy and confident in what you’re doing now,” she smiles widely, leaning back against the table. “So, is there a boyfriend making you happy too?”

I chuckle. Same old Veronica. “Nope, no boyfriend. I’m too busy for a boyfriend.”

“I’m pretty sure you used that excuse four years ago too and someone convinced you otherwise,” she hints cheekily.

“Get back to work, Veronica.”

Seek and I find I can sleep when I die

Wanna piece of the pie, grab the keys to the ride

And shit I'm straight

“Hey boss, we’re heading out. Do you want us to lock up or anything?” One of my employees asks, sticking his head in my doorway.

“No, it’s fine. Have a good night,” I bid, not looking up from my papers.

“You too. Don’t stay here too late.”

I nod but don’t respond, trying to figure out the numbers in my head.

It’s only four hours later when I realize that it’s one o’clock in the morning and that I should probably leave to get some sleep.

I'm on my wave, I'm on my wave

Get out my wake, I'm running late, what can I say?

Well apparently I needed more sleep than what I got because I slept past my alarm and now I’m running late on my second week back. I need to work out more often because I’m out of breath just from running down the street towards my office. I figured it would be faster than trying to drive through the hecticness of Edmonton traffic.

I’m trying to avoid the deep cracks in the sidewalk and before I know it I’m running into a hard body, about to fall over until an arm reaches out and grabs my own.

“I’m so sorry!” We exclaim at the same time.

I look up at the sound of the familiar voice, eyes bulging when I see it’s the one who was once the love of my life. I watch as Leon drags his eyes up from the concrete. His eyes light up when he recognizes me and I swallow to keep my heart inside of my body.

“Y/N, you’re back.”

I heard you die twice, once when they bury you in the grave

And the second time is the last time that somebody mentions your name

So when I leave here on this earth, did I take more than I gave?

Did I look out for the people or did I do it all for fame?

“Yeah, um, we’re moving back to uh, Edmonton,” I stutter through my words, just like I did when I first met Leon. He made me so nervous back then but he was so patient with me and listened carefully to every word, reassuring my many apologies. I guess he still makes me nervous.

“How is your empire?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

I laugh. He always referred to my company as my empire, knowing the potential that both it and I have. I guess he never considered that the potential would have to cause me to move.

“It’s good, uh,” I smile brightly at the memory of the other day, “I met with a manufacturer the other day and they already knew my name. Like I normally have to introduce myself, you know? But he was just like, “Hey, Y/N Y/L/N, it’s great to see you!” And it’s so cool to think that I have a legacy like that. And then he said that his daughter loved my bracelets so I had to give her the flower one that all of the preteen girls love. He said she would love it.”

I smile at the memory and snap out of my rambling, my eyes shifting back over to Leon’s. He gives me the admiring smile he always gives me when I talk about my business- he used to say it’s because I’m so passionate about it and it makes him even more attracted to me.

And from this smile, I’m assuming it still does.

Legend it's exodus searching for euphoria

Trudging through the mud to find the present, no ignoring us

Got 20,000 deep off in the street like we some warriors

My mama told me never bow your head, woo!

“So, uh, how’s hockey?” I question, trying to get the topic off of me.

“It’s good. Not as good as when you were in the stands,” he shrugs nonchantalty but my heart beats rapidly at the remark.

I can’t help but study him. His hair’s gotten longer since the last time I saw him and I have to hold back my giggle. I always used to beg him to grow his hair out but he would protest- looks like he finally complied as soon as I left. His green eyes sparkle in the sunlight and my mind flashes back to when he used to hold me in his arms, those eyes staring into my own as we would talk about our hopes and dreams.

God, all I want to do right now is pull him into me by the collar and kiss him.

I feel glorious, glorious

Got a chance to start again

I was born for this, born for this

My phone vibrates in my hand and we snap out of our little staring contest. I watch as Leon’s eyes snap to the device in distaste and I check to see that it’s Veronica wondering where I am. I send her back a quick text with a sigh and then look up to see Leon already watching me.

I can’t help but blush, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

“I should probably go,” I state.

“Yeah, you have an empire to run,” he says proudly, stepping to the side and motioning me past him. I smile shyly, moving past him reluctantly. Is this really it? Are we going to reunite just to leave each other so suddenly? “Oh, Y/N.” I turn around, raising my eyebrows in question. “We should go out for dinner sometime. Fully catch up and everything.”

I nod, quietly answering, “I’d like that.”

“Cool, me too. I’ll text you.”

I nod once more, turning around and doing my best not to dance until I turn the corner and I’m out of his sight. I missed Edmonton a lot- I missed my family, my friends, my employees, the city, but the thing, or person, that I missed the most was Leon.

And now I’m getting it all back, but mostly importantly, I’m getting the love of my life back.

It's who I am, how could I forget?

I made it through the darkest part of the night

“So your stocks took a sharp dip just before you moved the headquarters to Miami.” I remember that- that was the first and last time I cried in Leon’s arms. I usually hold everything in, I like to leave the stress of work at the office but I just couldn’t that night. I already wasn’t sure if I should be moving or not and that just seemed like a sign.

I can still remember the shock on Leon’s face as I fell into his grip, holding onto his sweater tighter than I’ve ever held on before.

“Why was that?”

I make eye contact with the local manufacturer. It’s very important to me to find work within the community so I can publicize that on my products.

“The stocks went down because it was in the summer when we moved the headquarters. There aren’t a lot of holidays in the summer where jewelry is wanted so our stock always tends to go down in the summer months. We’re currently working on incentives to change that,” I inform him.

And now I'll see the sunrise

Now I feel glorious, glorious

I feel glorious, glorious

I'm feeling glorious

We make small chat as we walk out of the conference room towards the lobby of the building. I glance towards Veronica at reception to see a mischievous twinkle in her eye and give her a questioning look but brush her off, returning my attention to the manufacturer.

“And we’re currently working on 100% recycable jewelry-”I cut myself off as soon as I see him. You can always tell when Leon’s in a room.

He’s sitting in one of the chairs, practically looking like a giant in the tiny piece of furniture. He’s playing with his hands and by the time we make eye contact, his eyes are already on me. The sunlight streams into the room through the window behind him, giving him a golden glow.

I clear my throat, ignoring the inquisitive look the manufacturer’s giving me to continue my sentence.

“100% recyclable jewelry that will probably come early next year.”

“That sounds great, my granddaughter loves that sort of stuff,” he responds.

“Yeah? I’ll be sure to send you a bracelet just for her,” I smile politely, bidding him goodbye as he leaves.

Before I can even greet Leon he’s at my side. “Should you just be giving stuff out for free? I don’t think that’s how empires work.”

I can’t help but snort out a laugh at his dorky joke. “What are you doing here, Leon?”

“I texted you yesterday but you didn’t respond.”

“I didn’t?” My eyes widen. I pull out my phone to show that I never pressed ‘send’ on the text I meant to send back.

The hockey player laughs. “Typical.”

I push his shoulder jokingly.

“Come on, I have something to show you,” he urges, grabbing my wrist.

“Hold all of my calls for the rest of the day, Veronica,” I call out as he pulls me out the door.

“You got it!”

The crib looking Victorian (oh yes it is)

You know that we been going in

Since we hopped out that DeLorean (DeLorean, yeah we win)

“Where did you find this house?” I gasp in disbelief, slamming the passenger’s door shut as I gape up at the beautiful house.

“You’re supposed to wait and let me open your door,” he whines, stepping out of the driver’s seat. I follow him up to the house, watching as he opens the front door.

“Look at how beautiful this hardwood is,” I gush, walking slowly throughout the house. He follows me from a few feet back, admiring me as I touch all of the unique features of the house. “Seriously, Leon, where did you find this house?”

“Called a realtor, or two.” Then he lowers his volume to a level he probably thinks I can’t hear, “Or five.” Then he raises it again. “Asked if they knew a good victorian house for sale. And it has to be victorian.”

I laugh at that. He would always make fun of me for how in awe I was at The Addams Family’s house. But I’ve wanted a large Victorian house to raise my kids and dogs in.

“Is it for sale?” I question, looking back at my former lover. He already knows why I’m asking.

“You may have some competition.”

“Oh yeah? I can probably beat them,” I state confidently, crossing my arms.

“I don’t think you can.”

“Yeah? Why not?” I raise my eyebrows.

He gives me a cheeky smile. “Because it’s me.”

En garde, things are just things

They don't make you who you are

Can't pack up a U-Haul and take it with you when you're gone

“Leon!” I whine, stomping my foot like a two year old. “Why would you show me this house if you’ve already wanted to buy it?”

“I have a plan,” he assures me, rushing forward to grab my hands. “You’ve moved back to Edmonton for good, right?”

I nod.

“And obviously there’s still romantic feelings and chemistry between us,” he starts.

I look down at the floor shyly, not knowing where he’s going with this. His fingers lift my chin up to meet his gaze again and he continues. “And the place you’re renting now, it came fully furnished, right?”

“How do you know that?” I ask.

“Please, you think Veronica would not drop hints to me while I was waiting on you for twenty minutes?”

“You were waiting for twenty minutes?”

“That’s besides the point,” he avoids my question, “This is the perfect house for us. Four bedrooms, the master bedroom on the main floor so we can get funky while the kids are in bed-”I laugh while he wiggles his eyebrows-”A nice office so that you can work from home if you want to. And have you seen the backyard?” He pulls me over to the kitchen window so we can see the luscious grass. “That’s a backyard made for an ice rink, babe. Come on, move in here with me.”

We posted on the porch, my family's glasses to the stars

My grandma smiling down on me like woo, that boy got bars

Okay, okay, yes I do

I said amen and hallelujah, let me testify too

I watch as he locks the front door, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“Just think, baby, the next time you’re going to be here it’s going to be our house. With you and me.”

“You and me,” I repeat softly.

Another morning, a morning, don't let self get in my way

I got my breath, I got my faith and I remember why I came

“Good morning,” I greet, stepping into the office early like I do every morning so Veronica can fill me in on what’s going on during the day. “What’s going on, Veronica?”

“So you’re just going to be filling out forms until nine, then you have a meeting with Mr. Waterson until ten thirty-””Can that be rescheduled?” I request softly. My assistant gives me an odd look but nods. Usually I refuse to be the one rescheduling or cancelling- I think it’s rude, but today I woke up feeling less confident than normal and couldn’t bear to look myself in the mirror.

“You have a meeting with Isabelle at one thirty-”The beautiful, young, talented designer? No way I can handle that today. “Reschedule that one too. I’m going to go start on paperwork, please don’t bother me unless you absolutely need me.”

I avoid eye contact as I make my way to my office, hoping to distract myself with my work.

I feel glorious, glorious

Got a chance to start again

I was born for this, born for this

“Am I absolutely needed?” I snap, looking up as my office door is opened. My boyfriend closes the door behind him, eyes widening from my harsh tone.

I sigh, looking back down at the paperwork.

He quietly takes a seat in one of the chairs in front of my desk, leaning forward and waiting for me to say something. It’s always pissed me off yet left me in awe at how well he knows me- he knows that if he confronts me I’ll immediately get defensive. He just needs to wait for me to put my guard down more.

And he gets it when I lean back in my chair, meeting his eyes.

“Do you want to explain why I got a call from your assistant saying that you’re in a mood today?” He questions softly.

“Because she’s a snitch?”

He laughs at that but leans back in the chair, giving me a look to talk.

I look down at my desk, murmuring, “It’s just a low confidence day, I guess.”

My eyes move back up in surprise to see him pointing an accusing finger at me. “You stop being mean to my girlfriend right now!”

“Leon, what are you doing?” I giggle.

“I’m serious, if you keep telling her that she’s not beautiful and smart I will not hesitate to fuck you up!”

I laugh at that, laughing even harder when he tugs me up and out of my chair. “Now you say it with me ‘I was born to be a boss ass bitch.’”

“Leon-””Say it with me!”

“I was born to be a boss ass bitch!” We scream together.

It's who I am, how could I forget?

I made it through the darkest part of the night

And now I see the sunrise

“You created a company from the bottom, you sell bracelets and necklaces and earrings- and hell, 100% recyclable jewelry,” Leon claps like I just found the cure to cancer. “A beautiful woman who cares about the environment. You shouldn’t be here, you should be-”He grabs me by the waist, placing me gently on my desk.

“What are you doing, Leon?” I squeal.

“Stand up,” he urges.

I stand up and for the first time ever, I’m taller than him.

“You should be up there! Look at you, a magnificent woman on the pedestal that she deserves.”

Now I feel glorious, glorious

I feel glorious, glorious

We gon' be alright, put that on my life

When I open my eyes, hope I see you shine

“Do you feel better now?” My boyfriend asks once I’m safely off the desk and in his arms.

I nod, pulling him closer to me. “Thank you, Leon. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“That’s a lie,” he scoffs.

I gasp, pulling back to hit his shoulder gently. “Why would you say that?”

“You left me for several months,” he exclaims.

“But I was thinking of you the whole time,” I confess. He smiles softly, leaning in to place his lips on mine. They move against each other, a comfort that we didn’t know we needed until now.

We're planting a flag they don't understand

The world is up for grabs

We gon' be alright, put that on my life

When I open my eyes, hope I see you shine

We're planting a flag they don't understand

“My businesswoman, look at you,” Leon wolf-whistles from bed as I step out of the walk-in-closet in our beautiful, Victorian house. I roll my eyes but smile, buttoning up my blazer.

“I’ll be at your game tonight,” I remind him, leaning over to kiss his lips.

“Are we what they call a power couple?” He questions.

“I guess we are, Leon. I guess we are.”

The world is up for grabs

I feel glorious, glorious

Got a chance to start again

I was born for this, born for this

It's who I am, how could I forget?

I’ll never get used to seeing Leon’s games, and I think he’ll never get used to seeing me in my natural element designing or being in meetings. We support each other unconditionally, because that’s what good partners do.

And the love we share is undeniable and nothing like I’ve ever felt before. If this is how we are now, I wonder what we’re going to be like in a few years with more goals, more sales, and a couple of cute kids.

I made it through the darkest part of the night

And now I see the sunrise

Now I feel glorious, glorious

I feel glorious, glorious

He scores a goal for me that night. And I save a recyclable bracelet for him.