#what am i supposed to do with my degree now honestly

[friendlyorange]

The weirdest thing about going to college for teaching in the united states is the giant CANYON of disconnect between what we're taught and what we actually do in a classroom.

like we're taught how to diversify methods of instruction in order to most equitably reach the diverse populations of our classrooms and inspire them to do their best writing/reading/speaking (im an English teaching major) but then in reality the students in your classroom are insanely below the level they need to be at in order to engage with age-appropriate lessons for them

we're taught how to take common core standards and transform them into meaningful and deep lessons but we're only given 45-90 mins of planning per day (if we're lucky) and the rest needs to be done outside of school or after hours if you can't do it quickly enough, and teachers are always expected to do research outside of the classroom, as well as collaboration, tweaking of lesson plans, etc.

we're told that students crave learning and they crave fun projects and they crave kinesthetic exercises, but then when I try those things in the classroom everyone complains and halfasses their participation, and im lucky if half of them actually pass something in, whether its an assignment, a test, a project, or an assessment.

we're told that we need to have open communication not only between teachers but between teachers and admin and parents, but then im lucky if one of the ten parents I email about their kid failing emails me back, and im luckier if admin takes a behaviorally disturbed student out of my class for insulting me or other students.

like... i guess my point is that teaching education is so idyllic and utopian, and actual classrooms are a goddamn nightmare of behavioral issues, lack of time/resources, exhausting interactions with students who don't want to be there or participate, and insane expectations from students, parents, and admin alike.

Like... no wonder the teaching field is hemorrhaging teachers right now. How can ANYONE work under the insane conditions we're forced to try and teach in. I'm so tired and I'm not even out of school yet. It's actually psychotic.

[snootlestheangel]

Drowning out my feelings with Dr. Pepper, falling back in love with Silence is Golden But Consequences Are Red, and thoughts of Mother Hen Wolf Shifter!Ghost

*rant in the tags if y'all want*

[silverislander]

prof said congrats for writing up a proposal so early i am going to get a good grade in. well this is literally going to be graded. but yk the meme

[lilystyles]

when not in rome.

a @lilystyles blurb!

my masterlist & no strings attached masterlist & blurbs masterlist

authors note idk this was a random thing i wrote at 2AM because i just missed them, i am still working on style so don't worry that should be out soon. also this is set way before no strings, i love writing about them in their previous moments!

brief description harry surprises y/n at her graduation (also listen to love of my life by h whilst readinggg)

warnings! angsty? fluffy? drunk y/n and harry (2.1k)

younger!lhh!nostrings!h x reader

* * * * *

SIX YEARS BEFORE

University has a funny way of making you feel like you might never cross the finish line. Y/n like everyone else had multiple days where she would just sob and scream from the stress of it all. Exams were totally a torture device.

When Y/n graduated with her first degree before deciding to write her thesis Harry surprised her.

He’d been touring the world with One Direction for months now and she hadn’t seen him since Paris the year before, when he’d surprised her by flying her to join them in their Paris show and they’d had a wild few drunken nights that she felt blurred the lines of friendship into something more.

But after their few days, when the champagne ran out, and she came back home, she sobered and realised that nothing would ever happen between them. And if you spent a few nights with Harry in a limo drinking champagne and dealing with his wandering hands you too would fall for him. Just a bit. It's only natural.

She missed him, though, loads. He was one of her best friends after all.

Around a month ago they phoned each other, it was late for her and the morning for him, she’d been studying and they talked for hours catching up till the sky turned bright for her and her eyes drooped shut. The time between their phone calls had grown longer and longer now, and she missed him. She’d mentioned that she was graduating soon and that they were both supposed to be graduating if he’d stayed in Uni. She remembers them staying up late at parties discussing their futures and how post-graduation Harry was insistent that they’d still be roommates. She realised now that their dream definitely wasn’t a possibility anymore.

He’d told her that instead of being there graduating like they’d suspected he was going to be, he was in Rome at some fashion show gala thing, and his date was this sexy model named Rosalie who had her sex tape leaked a couple of months ago. She was happy for him, but a part of her couldn’t help but be disappointed. She felt like he was drifting away from her every day, but she couldn’t find in herself to be cross with him. He was swept up by the fame of it all, and how on earth could she be mad that he was literally a rockstar? She knew that he was still Harry and she was still Y/n but they weren’t Harry and Y/n anymore. Not like before.

And honestly, she’d probably leave everything and everyone behind, party all night, and sleep with sexy models too if she had the chance to be famous. But she couldn’t sing for shit. So instead she did what she was doing, and shoved her nose in a book rather than in lines off a bathroom sink, and she was rather content with the peacefulness of it all.

All thoughts of Harry were swept away from her mind when she walked across the stage in the grande hall. She was finally graduating! Thank god! She thought. She had a sash that showed she was an honours student, and she was blooming with pride, when they called her name her list of achievements was longer than the four painful years she’d spent studying in their grande libraries. She was so glad to shake the hand of one of her favourite professors and leave, the next year ahead she planned to travel and work overseas, she was excited about that.

But honestly, she was even more excited to get absolutely shit-faced at the graduation after-ball party. She found herself a few pints down, sitting by the edge of one of the fountains, when she nearly fell in at the absolutely shocking sight in front of her.

There was just no way it could be true. I mean he was in Rome, and she was drunk in London. She’d seen photos on her Twitter of him wrapping his tattooed arms around that Rosalie model girl, so how could he be here in London just like that? It was not real, surely. She must be hallucinating and the second-hand smoke of all the spliffs had finally got to her brain. But suddenly the man turned around and Jesus Christ it was him. It was Harry. His eyes were pinched as he searched the crowd and when he finally saw her they lit up, all green like a forest, and his mouth kicked up into that devilish grin of his.

He saw her dumb-struck expression and laughed softly walking toward his best friend. He was dressed in a suit jacket like everyone else, and since they were all drunk none of them noticed it was the Harry Styles of the One Direction AKA the biggest band in the world. To them, he was just some random twat who just graduated too.

His hair had grown all long and curly, and he just looked so much more like a man than when he’d left. Had he gotten taller? More strong? The arms of his jacket strained and Y/n sighed at the sight of him.

She didn't think she'd changed much, but Harry thought she looked even more beautiful than before, if possible.

When he stood right in front of her, her mouth was still wide in utter shock. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He laughed. “Is that all you hafta’ say? Come on, hug your best friend!”

She sprang up from her seat and the silky long dress, which was a teal blue colour. All smooth and tight on her skin was hiked up slightly. Her gown and cap were long gone, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders. He lifted her up off the floor and spun them around. 

She smelt like peaches and sweetness, and God, he could've stayed holding her for weeks.

She giggled and felt her face hurt from smiling so big. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you!”

When he placed her down, his hands did not leave the curve of her waist. “Surprise, babe.”

“What the- shit- I thought you were in Rome! How’d you even get here?” She asked 

He smiled. “I was, got a flight this afternoon. It was the only one coming home, sorry for missing the graduation part.”

She just smiled up at him. “You’re crazy.”

He shook his head landing a hand on her shoulder. “I knew how important it was to you, and I missed you. Sue me.”

She laughed, eyes welling with slight tears. Maybe he wasn’t drifting too far from her after all. “Oh, god, don’t make me cry, you know how I get after a few pints, H.”

He laughed, arms outstretched for her to cuddle him. “Aw, pet, c’mere.”

She smacked his chest playfully but cuddled him nonetheless. “Let’s go get royally fucked, mate,” She whispered and they pulled apart, hands interlocking as she lead him off to one of the pubs where everyone was buying drinks.

It was called The Ducks Nuts.

A few of her mates were inside. Ones Harry didn’t know, but she’d already spent a good portion of the night with them. So she told them her old friend had surprised her and they’d be here and there.

Harry ordered them some shots and eventually the night was just a blur of hands touching each other, as they got so drunk Y/n felt her world spinning. They’d hopped around multiple different pubs and bars and Y/n was so tired. Her heels itched her feet with pain and she ripped them off, along with her bag. As they walked with little purpose she threw her things at him and began to dance in the middle of the road.

Harry was holding her things as she danced in the street showing her best Elton John impression, and he silently decided that was what made her so perfect. She was just herself. And he loved that about her, he loved everything about her.

He laughed and told her what a realistic impression it was, and how they’d met at some award show to back up that comment. She was infinitely jealous, she loved Elton.

On her way back toward him she landed in his arms after losing her footing he shook his head at her.

“You are very drunk, Lovie. Aren't ya'?" He said, in a soft tone one that made her tummy turn in flips.

She sighed as they walked in a direction with no destination in mind. “You aren’t drunk enough, you need to get on my level.”

He noticed her shiver under his arm and quickly ripped his coat off. It swallowed her form and she smiled gratefully hugging the coat around herself. It felt like a warm embrace, and that smell filled her nose and suddenly she was home in her old flat with him, home in Holmes Chapel, home with him. Just home.

“Smells good.” She giggled as she sniffed the shoulder pad, her cheek brushing against the soft material all dog-like. “N’ soft too.”

“Why thanks, it’s Gucci.” He replied. 

She rolled her eyes. “Come on then, money-bags, let’s get you as drunk as me.”

They strolled into a tavern near her flat and drank so much tequila that they had to practically carry each other home.

As Harry looked up at the stars and moon, feeling the cool air nip her skin he sighed. He hadn’t gotten this drunk, and been this happy in such a long time. He was giggling contently, as she leaned into him and he silently wished that the night would never end.

He never wanted his time with her to end either. He loved spending time with her, whether they were on an adventure or doing nothing at all. Y/n made it worthwhile.

When they reached the shitbox of a flat she lived in Harry followed calmly behind her, and when one of her neighbours spat a comment about drunken youths he sighed, “I wish you would’ve taken up my offer,”

She looked up at him as she played with the jammy door that never seemed to open on the first try. Shoving her shoulder into it as she managed to finally wedge it open, stumbling inside ungracefully.

And with a roll of her eyes, she ushered him inside. “There is zero chance I’d let my all-of-sudden bazillionaire rockstar friend buy me a flat, just cause he can afford shoes worth more than my entire life savings. Anyway, how could I ever pay it back? I have two p to my name and a packet of noodles in my possessions, Harry.”

He laughed. “Think of it as a graduation present then,”

She sighed. “Just shut up and sit down, and I’ll get some wine.”

It was almost 4AM now, and neither cared. They were beyond drunk, but Y/n missed him and if force-feeding him wine would get him to spend a whole 24 hours with her, she totally would.

When she sat down with two mugs spilling with a cherry red wine, that was the cheapest shit she’d ever bought, Harry laughed. Her wobbly legs forced her to land awkwardly on one thigh practically on top of his. He smiled, one that showed his kind eyes. 

Green pools of emerald she wished to swim in for eternity. She laughed at the thought, she really got poetic when she was drunk, huh?

“God, remind me to get you drunk more often.” He whispered.

She sighed. “Oh shut up, and fill me in on life then. Who are you shagging?”

He looked at her pointedly. “Who are you shagging?”

A blush crept up her neck, and suddenly the only secret she had kept from him was threatening to slip past her drunken red-stained lips.

“None of your business, but there’s this hot guy in my physics who I would totally shag,”

He laughed, but underneath it, he felt a jealousy creep up his spine, he knew he had no right since he’d been balls deep in two Italian models this morning, turns out threesomes are a really good cure for hangovers by the way. But despite that, he felt an itch he couldn’t scratch that resembled something pretty close to jealousy.

“What’s he like?” Harry asked.

She shrugged. “Dunno, tall, glasses, got that whole nerdy silent thing going for him.”

“That’s what you like then, silent types?” He asked, running a hand through his long curls, and she reached out to play with one.

She shook her head, and said distractedly, “I don’t know.”

“Makes sense why you never dated me then.” 

During primary school, Harry dated every girl in their class including Daisy and Penny, except Y/n who told him she didn’t fancy him. It was an ongoing topic of discussion between them. Why wasn't he good enough? He always asked.

She laughed at that comment. “I know you too well for that, and I get the unfiltered you, and I lived with you which was basically like being married to you. We bickered too much to ever date, Haz.”

He looked at her with hooded eyes, and for some reason that stung, but trying to be light-hearted he said. “Never say never, what if we needed to repopulate the earth?”

She looked over at him and placed a hand on his and kissed his cheek, all soft and slow, and for a moment he thought she might actually kiss him for real but instead, she said. “There’ll be no hope for humanity then.”

He sighed, fake pouting before a couple of minutes of silence passed and he turned to her and said. “Come with me to Brazil.”

Her eyes widened, “What?"

“I leave tomorrow night, come with me.” He said.

She frowned. “What? Come with you? You can't be serious.”

He nodded. “Please? I miss you! And we can party for a whole week together, or sleep, or do whatever the fuck you want! Just come, pack a bikini and something sparkly, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Y/n and Harry did end up going to Brazil but that’s a story for another time.

She stood up from the couch holding her hand out to him, and he slid his into hers. Cool rings grazing the soft skin of her palm.

“Let’s just go to sleep, you're talking like a crazy person.” She said, softly pushing a lock of his hair away from his eyes.

He sighed at her, “But m’ serious, Love.”

“Alright, ask me again tomorrow. That is if you even remember...now come on, let’s listen to Fleetwood Mac and sleep until tomorrow evening.”

Y/n's room was cosy and welcoming. Harry felt his eyes droop at the sight. A tiny lamp shining over them in an orange glow, her cot-like bed covered in blankets and the scent of her likely covering those sheets.

That night they slept in Y/n’s twin bed, cuddling, with Stevie Nicks serenading them to sleep. Cheeks plump and pink from too much alcohol, hands wandering scandalously, and the love in air was thick and obvious.

Before Y/n fell asleep she pecked his lips, in a quick kiss, one that it barely even touched him and said, “Night, mate,”

His lips burned like wildfire, and from that night on, he did think humanity had a chance if it was up to them. Whether or not she believed that.

“Night, Love.”

i have been a bit slack with updates lately...second year of uni is crazy and im already soooo busy, but i missed them and i wanted to write a lil sum for y'all until my next proper update :) BIG LOVEEEE

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Keith, I need a favour.”

Keith stops in his tracks. Slowly, he sets down the helmets he’s holding, freeing his hands, then holds the phone out in front of him. He ponders it carefully.

“I could throw you into the sea,” he says to it. He does some quick calculations. If he drives to the nearest seafront now, he will be approximately twenty-three hours late to his date with Lance by the time he gets back. However, if he skips the fanfare and drops his phone into the disgusting oil-filled puddle right next to him, he can proceed to his date on schedule.

“Decisions, decisions,” he muses. Fanfare is important. Dropping his phone into a puddle is whatever. It’s derivative. But dropping his phone into the North Atlantic…now that is revolutionary.

“Fucksake. Keith,” sighs the voice coming from the phone. “If you don’t answer me, I am going to change the Netflix password.”

Keith frowns. “Hey.”

“Thank you,” says Shiro emphatically, “you brat.”

“Netflix is sacred,” Keith protests. “You can’t joke about the Netflix. I am a delicate orphan, Shiro. What will happen to me if my primary care figure breaks his promises? I’ll regress and act out and end up in prison. Do you want me to end up in prison?”

“A little, honestly.”

“Gasp, Shiro. Gasp. How dare.”

“I think you should consider a degree in the dramatic arts.”

“I think you should eat my farts.” Keith snickers. “Hey, that rhymed.”

Shiro sighs, long and loud, and Keith can practically see the smile twitching on his face. “Where did I go wrong. Truly. To think I tried to raise an upstanding young man, respectful to his elders, happy to help when needed. Shame that you’re a gremlin and a changeling.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Blah blah. Get to begging for my help. I have places to be, old man. A new jacket Adam bought me to wear in front of pretty people. Well, one pretty person. Anyways.”

“God, you’re whipped,” Shiro says, and Keith ignores that because if he doesn’t he’ll combust. “You and Lance going out?”

Keith tucks his phone between his ear and his shoulder, picking the helmets back up and continuing his walk to his bike. “Yep.”

“Where’re you going?”

“Dinner at Caribella. It’s an excuse for a ride, really. Maybe walk around downtown for a bit.”

“Sounds fun. How much more fun would it be with your little sister, huh?”

Keith stops for the second time. He can see Red maybe fifty metres away. He looks at her mournfully.

“So close,” he despairs quietly, then turns back to his phone. “Not super fun, Shiro. Since she’s, you know. A year old. And a date is something you traditionally do with your boyfriend. Alone.”

Shiro makes a weirdly strangled noise halfway between a laugh and a stressed croak. “Well! The thing is.”

Keith waits. No thing is listed.

“Shiro.”

“It’s no big deal! Really.”

“Oh? I guess I’ll just hang up, then —”

“It’s just that Adam and I are at his sister’s, right, and —”

“There we go.”

“And we have a sitter. Obviously. All is well. Except, you know. The storm forecast. And everything.”

“And you’re four hours away with a car that you haven’t put snow tires on yet,” Keith surmises. He looks forlornly at his bike, sitting all pretty in her parking spot, freshly polished red paint gleaming under the fluorescent lights of the parking garage. So, so close. “You dumbass.”

“The forecast was clear this morning!”

“You’re a dad! You’re supposed to know these things!”

“Well!”

“Can’t the sitter just — stay? Overnight, or something?”

He feels bad. Any other day, he’d be happy to have Hana over, or go stay over there. He does it all the time. Hana is the coolest. He has no idea how she’s the daughter of the two biggest goobers he knows. Hell, he’s already got plans to watch her this Thursday, so Adam and Shiro can go to their old person museum date thing.

But he has plans tonight.

Fuck.

“She’s sixteen, Keith,” Shiro explains, sighing. Keith envisions his brother slumped against a wall somewhere, rubbing over the scar on his nose. “She’s too young for that. She’s Adam’s friend’s daughter, and she’s a sweetheart, but she’s got school. She can’t be responsible for a baby overnight.”

“No, I — I figured.” He drags his free hand down his face. “You need me to go over there?”

“Yeah. Mara – the sitter – can’t drive yet. Her parents are coming to get her in an hour.”

Shiro’s voice is quiet, subdued. He sounds guilty. Keith hates when Shiro is guilty. He covers his hand over the phone so Shiro can’t hear, screams a little, breathes deeply, then forces a smile wide enough that it will bleed into his voice. Hopefully.

“It’s fine, Shiro. Seriously. Lance and I’ll reschedule, Hana and I will make sure to fuck up your Netflix profile. All is well.”

“Thank you, Keith. I owe you.”

It is a dire thing when Shiro doesn’t complain about Keith messing up his Netflix profile. Once, three years ago, Keith forgot to switch the TV in their living room and watched some Hallmark movie as he sketched, just to make noise in the background. Shiro made snide comments about his taste for three months, because he’s a pretentious indie loser who watches shit like Empire unironically.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll start a tab.”

That, thankfully, makes Shiro snort. “Brat.” He brightens. Keith can almost hear the ding of a lightbulb going off in his head. “Hey, I know it’s dorky, but maybe you and Lance can still go on your date! Me and Adam used to when you were little, in the old apartment.”

Keith furrows his brows. “What, like when you marathoned Lord of the Rings on the shitty futon and ordered the greasiest pizza known to man? That’s not a date.”

“Is so! We enjoyed it, you had pizza so you weren’t having a tantrum, what else could we need?”

“You guys have been weird old people your whole entire life. Did you know that?”

“Only because you aged me. You pain. Anyways. Go pick up my daughter, or you can stay at our place. Minivan keys are where they always are. I gotta go. Love you, kiddo.”

“Ugh. Love you too.” He hangs up, blowing a raspberry at the phone. “Minivan keys are where they always are, he says. What a soccer mom.”

He stares, hands on his hips, at his bike.

What to do, what to do.

He really doesn’t want to cancel on Lance. It’s been a couple days since they’ve seen each other, because Lance’s job hates him. Plus, Hana isn’t very fussy. It’s kind of dweeby and embarrassing, but. Well. Lance likes kids. So it could be fine, honestly.

“Hana first,” Keith decides, nodding to himself. He lifts the seat compartment under the bike and shoves the extra blue helmet in, strapping on his own and starting Red up. To bring Lance to Shiro’s for an embarrassing old person date, or to cancel. That is the question.

Eh. He’ll decide on the ride.

— — —

He does not decide on the ride.

“What do you think,” he asks his sister, lips pursed. She gurgles happily at him from her high chair, shaking her soggy-Cheerio-covered fist at him. “I mean, you go to bed in a couple hours. So it’s not like it’s pure babysitting.”

“Abdalalala,” she says, which Keith translates to mean actually, now that I know you want me to sleep, I will spend tonight completely resistant to sleep, as karma. Enjoy.

“That’s rude,” he informs her.

You’re batshit, says the Pidge that lives in his brain. Also, quit procrastinating.

“Ugh,” he says, out loud. He pulls out his phone and hesitates over Lance’s contact.

to: lance <3

hey you like kids right

from: lance <3

oh my god

from: lance <3

keith, are you…

from: lance <3

pregnant??????

Keith laughs.

to: lance <3

you are not funny

from: lance <3

i’m hilarious actually it’s a tragedy

from: lance <3

i carry the burden of knowing i am solely responsible for my friends’ good humour

from: lance <3

heavy is the head that wears the crown. pensive face emoji solidarity fist emoji broken heart emoji

Keith refuses to dignify that with an answer. Also, he has been informed by Lance’s best friend that if he ignores the emoji bit it will go away eventually. So far it’s been going strong for three months, though, so Keith’s not certain. He can only hope Hunk is correct.

from: lance <3

anyways yah i like kids why

to: lance <3

how much cooler and charming would i be if i picked you up in a minivan. with my sister

from: lance <3

aw, keith!

from: lance <3

to be coolER and MORE charming you have to be cool and charming to begin with :)

from: lance <3

and you are a dweeb 💖

from: lance <3

sounds good tho

from: lance <3

Bring Forth The Child

from: lance <3

oh also bring forth burritos on ur way over

from: lance <3

i’m hungry

Hana yells and bangs on her tray. When Keith looks up, she lobs a Cheerio at him. It hits him squarely between the eyes.

“You’re right,” he says sagely, peeling it off and flicking it back at her. She shrieks in joy. “I cannot let this shit slide. I cannot simply allow myself to be roasted, Hana. I must have self respect.”

She blows a raspberry at him and bangs harder on her tray. Baby conversations are, honestly, riveting.

“Exactly, squirt. You get it. Let’s get cleaned up and go, hm?”

— — —

He picks up burritos on the drive.

Hana laughs at him.

— — —

He’s hardly pulled up in front of Lance’s apartment building when a blur streaks across the front walkway, yanking open the van’s side door.

“Oh, hell-o, precious darling!” gasps Keith’s boyfriend, tumbling into the backseat and slamming my the door shut behind him. “Hi, Hana! Hi hi hi! Aren’t you the bestest ever? You are!”

Hana, evidently pleased with the attention, babbles something incomprehensible and pats Lance’s cheek. He melts, babbling something so quickly it’s equally incomprehensible and shaking her hand. Keith watches, torn between endeared and affronted.

“Hello, boyfriend I have not seen in days,” he deadpans. “Yes, I missed you also. No, I don’t mind at all that you leave me to wither away, alone, in the front seat. Excellent chat.”

“You have a very very grumpy brother, don’t you, Hana,” Lance coos. His shoulders shake with held back laughter.

“Lance, get your ass in the front.”

“But I’m meeting the baby!”

“She is not going anywhere! Meet her at home! You turd!”

“Name-calling is not very nice,” retorts Lance primly, crawling over the console and finally settling in the passenger seat. “What kind of example are you setting, huh?”

He leans over the armrest once he’s buckled in and kisses Keith gently, cradling his hand against his jaw and tilting their heads together. He smells, as he always does, of flowers and sunshine, and Keith sighs as he sinks into the softness of him, the curve of his smile and nip of his teeth.

“Hi,” Keith murmurs, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, his chin, and then squarely on the mouth again.

“Hi,” Lance responds, a little breathless, grinning widely. His hair is damp and curling at the edges. He’s left out his contacts for the night and the gold lenses match the gold flecks in his brown eyes. Everything he’s wearing is stolen right from Keith’s closet, except his socks, which are bright purple and covered in obnoxiously orange weiner dogs. Keith is so in love with him that the intensity of it embarrasses him, and he pulls away, face red, very interested suddenly in adjusting is rearview mirror.

Lance, knowing, only smiles.

“These are for you,” he says gruffly, shoving the paper takeout bag at Lance’s chest. Lance wastes no time digging through and shoving half of one in his face.

“Aw, baby,” he says, mouth completely full. “You’re literally the best. Sweet, attentive, manipulable, obsessed with me. Everything I intended when I did the love spell on you.”

Keith eyes Lance from his peripherals. He’s digging through his patched backpack, face completely serene. Keith is reminded of the actual sigil he has tattooed on his ankle. (He’s very familiar with it. It’s often right at eye level. Hard to miss, really.)

“…You’re a strange, strange man.”

“Anyways!” Lance continues, visibly gleeful. Keith reminds himself to focus on the goddamn road and remember his sister is watching with her giant wide eyes in the backseat, probably committing all his embarrassing actions to memory to report to Adam the second she is capable of speech. “I brought lots of movies. Mostly Jurassic Park, but also some educational stuff for the baby. Ghostbusters, High School Musical, you know. All that good stuff. And I stashed popcorn behind your microwave last time I slept over so we’re set for snacks.”

“Oh, we’re going to my brother’s place, actually, ‘cause Hana’s more comf— wait, behind the microwave? Why behind?”

“Wait, wait, hold on. We’re not going to your place?”

“No,” Keith says carefully. “I have some baby stuff in my apartment, but not a lot. Plus, Shiro has a better T.V. and also Adam just bought Moose Tracks. So.” He slows to a stop at a red light, noting Lance’s odd expression. “That okay?”

Lance screws up his face for a second, thinking. “I’m pretty sure? As long as there’s an extra toothbrush there. I have one at your place so I didn’t bother bringing one. And I guess I can survive a night without my face serum, but if I get one single wrinkle we’re beefing.”

“You’re not gonna get a stupid wrinkle,” Keith grouches. “And why would you get pissy if you get a wrinkle? We’re gonna get them eventually, and you —”

“‘We’?” Lance teases. “You gonna grow old with me? Gonna marry me someday, Kogane?”

“—can even use Shiro’s face stuff, anyway, I’m sure it’s the same.” Keith clears his throat. “And plus —”

His voice cracks horribly. Lance makes a valiant effort to keep his giggles to himself, but as Keith face continues to get hotter and hotter he loses control and laughs, head thrown back, adam’s apple bobbing with every hitched breath. His laughter sets Hana off, too, both of them encouraging each other’s ridiculousness until they’re as red as Keith is, gasping for breath.

“I hate it here,” Keith mutters darkly. “I’m turning around and bringing you back. You’re the worst. Why do I go out with you.”

Lance, barely recovered, makes kissy faces at him. “Because you want to maaaarrryyyyy meeeee, you think I’m seeeeexxxyyyyy, you want to kiiiiisssss meeeee —”

He cuffs Lance in the back of his head, pretending to check his blindspot and ignoring Lance’s cries of spousal abuse. “I actually just want you to watch Miss Congeniality twelve percent less often. For your own mental health.”

“Lies and slander! Peddling of falsehoods! Perjury and defamation!”

“I’m burning your thesaurus.”

“And now threats! Hana, you shall be my witness! I will testify against you in court! You will be jailed! I will visit you twice monthly!”

“That’s the second person today who wants me in jail,” Keith comments, pulling into Shiro’s driveway. “You’d visit me even if you put me in there?”

“Well, duh. Have to make sure you don’t go around kissing cute criminal boys or I will become a cute criminal boy.”

“Right, of course. I should have known.”

“You should have, yes.” Lance leans over and kisses him on the forehead with an exaggerated ‘mwah’ noise. “But it’s okay, I like ‘em a little dumb.”

“Help me get the diaper bag, goober,” Keith snorts, shoving him away. “I want to get inside so I can have a burrito before you eat them all.”

———

Lance was not kidding about High School Musical.

Obviously.

“Do you want her to grow up with no understanding of community, Keith,” he scolds, and pays no mind when Keith replies, “Well, she has a family, dude, so I’m not worried.”

They watch the stupid musical.

Keith is horribly endeared by Lance’s extensive knowledge of the choreography. Lance is horribly appalled at Keith’s ignorance. Hana is intrigued, mind body and soul, by every scene with Sharpay Evans. Keith assumes this will be a problem for Adam in the near future, and resolves to make that problem worse.

All this to say he’s having a very embarrassing night, in terms of mushy thoughts and feelings.

“I can’t wait to have kids of my own someday,” Lance sighs, a very sleepy Hana tucked into the crook of his arm. He watches her, soft, and Keith pauses with a DVD held loose in his hand, enraptured, because there’s a curve to Lance’s smile that he’s never seen before, and suddenly his left hand looks bare. “I know it’s supposed to be stressful and everything, but I used to force Hunk to play house with me when we were kids. Literally every day. And when my neice and nephew were born I hogged them all the time, even when they were screaming. I dunno. Being a parent sounds awesome. You get to…like…grow a person. It’s like growing a plant but a bajillion times better, probably.”

“Yeah,” says Keith, softly, and without meaning to he’s thinking of Shiro’s tired smile and the gentle hand Adam lays on the back of his neck, of their door that was always open for Keith’s nightmares, of Shiro’s clothes ruffling as he slid to the floor and sat for hours as Keith screamed himself hoarse and cried for a mother who left. Of Adam’s boiling pots and gentle hands as he guided Keith around a chopping knife. Of both Shiro’s choked-off sobs and Adam’s right embrace as Keith came back, thirteen, in the middle of the night, scared and no longer angry, and their quiet I’m so glad you’re safe. Thank you for coming back. “Yeah, family is important.”

Lance hums. He’s quiet long enough that Keith looks up, realising for the first time his gaze has been locked, unseeing, on the pictures on the wall, of Shiro and Adam and the two of them together and with Keith and with Hana and with Keith and Hana. Lance is watching him, quiet, dark eyes knowing, Hana finally asleep in his arms, beautiful and strong and everything Keith has ever wanted, suddenly, at once.

“I love you,” he blurts.

Lance smiles. “I’ve noticed.”

“Oh, you dickhead.”

“I’m saying it back!” Lance says, snickering, free hand held up in surrender. Keith walks over and slots their fingers together, squeezing slightly, leaning in and holding, a second, a hair’s breadth away from Lance’s mouth, watching his lips part, feeling the heat of his breath. His words are breathless, near silent, mouthed as much as spoken. “You changed my life, you know. I made you chase me because I thought it was funny, but — I made Hunk get me your number from Pidge the night I left the bar. I was going to text you if your brother’s tweet didn’t go viral and cement your dorkiness for eternity.”

“That’s a lotta words to say ‘I love you’, dorkbrain.”

“I know. You make me nervous.”

“You never get nervous.”

“I do with you.”

“Yeah?”

They’re so close now that their lips brush with every word, and Lance is grinning, eyes crinkled and lashes fluttering against Keith’s cheeks, and Keith has a hand careful on Hana’s head so he doesn’t crush her and is smiling just as wide. Cheesy, dorky, corny, and everything Keith wished for after every romance novel he’d steal, fooling no one, from Adam’s shelf and read long after bedtime.

“Yeah. ‘Cause I love you. Even though you’re a dweebus and a simp.”

He is, really, because he lets Lance get away with that, kissing him to shut him up, to feel his laughter right up close. It’s sparks flying and warmth spreading and heart slowing, and in the gentle darkness of the night.

It’s the promise of more to come.

[lesbiansovereverything]

EVERLYN

A female family member of mine got married to a man in the middle of the COVID pandemic. So I watched the heterosexual coupling via Zoom. She wore a white dress with a long flowing train and a veil that hid her face; a spectacle of patriarchal heteronormativity. After the vows were said, and just before kissing the bride, her husband turned to the camera and announced with glee, “This is the first time we will be kissing!” They had been dating for three years.

In that moment, I saw the future and person my family had envisioned and engineered for me. One that I had escaped by coming out. The box and script that I was supposed to fit into and follow was made visible in the person of my relative and I mourned for her – wishing that this was what she genuinely wanted and had chosen and not the script that she was unconsciously following in order to win the approval of her parents and her community. But I’ve also known her since birth and I mourned because I knew different.

I’d escaped the same fate by coming out at 19. My rebellion had begun long before that in small ways, easily dismissed by family and community as eccentricisms that would be corrected once I followed the “plan.” But coming out as a lesbian sealed the deal for my family – as it was THE scarlet letter that could never be erased from my forehead. For me, however, it was a joyfully revelatory catalyst that embedded in me the surety that I could eschew scripts, jump from boxes, carve a life without templates of heterosexism, gender conformity, and sexual confinement – a knowledge that I had the freedom to choose something other than the life that had been set out by society and family.

My brother reacted by saying, “I feel as if you’re getting away with something. I just don’t know what.” I didn’t either – not then. But now I do. Somewhere deep inside, without having the words for it, I knew that what I wanted as a child–to be a Renaissance Woman who felt free to pursue a life of intellectual, physical, and creative freedom–was impossible under the regime of heteronormativity and female sexual subjugation that I saw all around me. And so many years later, having come out publicly at age 19, I look back and can honestly say that I am that Renaissance Woman I envisioned myself to be when I was seven.

*Everlyn Hunter immigrated to the US from Jamaica at the age of 14. Her educational accomplishments include Masters and Doctoral degrees in Psychology, as well as a diploma from Vancouver Film School in Writing for Television and Film. Concurrent with her professional work, Everlyn has held numerous leadership roles as a board member of non-profit human rights, Jewish, and LGBT organizations. Dr. Hunter currently lives in Los Angeles where she works as a Psychologist. In her spare time, she is a student pilot who loves flying, and an aspiring jazz vocalist. She is currently working on her first full length novel.

[a-legacy-not-to-be-forgotten]

Why Ceroba and the Feisty Four were right

Not bothering with any fancy opening, it's exactly what it says it is: Ceroba and the Feisty Four were right to call out Starlo.

Now before you crucify me, I love Starlo as a character. But I'm tired of people (not calling out anyone in particular) pretending that he's done absolutely nothing wrong and demonize Ceroba and the Feisty Four for snapping at him (largely Ceroba, but I see the Feisty Four get shat on every now and then). And this is not me calling Starlo a jerk. Typically, calling him a flat-out jerk would mean he did shit on purpose with malicious intent, and I don't think he acted out of spite. Rather, he did all those things because he just didn't think about it in the moment. I understand that, and I can 110% relate to that myself, honestly.

That being said, he did make some legit dick moves over the course of the game. Exhibit A: Having Moray walk around with a snake in their boot and giving them rashes.

IK some of Starlo's more wild fans would probably do anything he says and all that, but put yourself in Moray's shoes (or boots I guess would be more appropriate). If your friend made you walk around with a rubber toy in your footwear that gave you a nasty rash, I think you'd be reasonable at least a bit angry at them.

Exhibit B: The Boulder Droppers

They're literal goddam boulders. That shit could've killed someone. Setting them up at a busy mineshaft is reckless enough as it is but leaving them on after you're done using them just makes things even worse.

Exhibit C: Blaming Clover for everything that happened and shooting them over it.

What am I supposed to say? If you hate Ceroba for what she did to Kanako and Clover, keep in mind that Starlo basically did the same exact thing.

Again, this is not me calling Starlo an asshole overall. Yes, he is a good monster deep down and just made some legit mistakes. But my point is, he does have flaws nonetheless and I can't stand people who ignore them. Like, him accepting what he did was wrong and coming to terms with that is one of the best parts of his character! C'mon guys.

And yes, people treat Ceroba as a horrible friend because she wasn't into it and apparently 'hates that part of Starlo' or whatever. If Ceroba actually hated Starlo's obsession with Western culture, do you think she'd indulge in his ramblings on humans?

...or helped him set up all of those wanted posters for him?

...or helping his family search for him when he 'goes missing' during a neutral run?

*sarcastically* Wooooooow, what a horrible friend...

Yes, I understand Ceroba is a very blunt and sarcastic person, but I think because of that, she ends up coming off as harsher than she means to be. Trust me, I can relate to that.

To call her a heartless bitch is a disservice to her character. She does care deep down, even if she isn't that good at showing it.

And hey, she's a mourning widow and mother, I wouldn't blame her for not being good at showing positive emotions.

As for the Feisty Five, our favorite enby fish puts it best themself:

My point is, despite snapping at him, Ceroba and the Feisty Four did not hate Starlo. They understood that his obsession over Western Culture was really important with him. It's made clear that they know he's a good monster deep down, despite his transgressions and were very ready to forgive him.

They just wanted him to dial it back. And yeah, he needed to. Granted, this is targeted at the 'Starlo did nothing wrong' crowd. If you admit that he's pretty heavily flawed but that Ceroba's done worse, I can accept that. Hell, despite me being a Ceroba apologist, I might even agree with you to a degree. But I am a bit tired of the fandom putting him on a pedestal while overhating everyone who remotely criticizes him.

[gwennybriggs]

Cat and Mouse

NSFW, 18+ only!

Melissa Schemmenti x f!OC

Warnings/tags: Porn, porn with little plot, orgasm denial, mommy kink, spanking,

WC: 6.3K

After months of Melissa toying with me and pushing me around, I had enough and told her so… so she punished me.

Notes: I never write smut, ever, but here we are! It is shameless Schemmenti porn. Please enjoy. 🫡

I started volunteering as Melissa’s aide a few days a week in August when I took a break from full time teaching, and after many months of playing into her games and being ridiculed for the smallest things, I was over it. It all came to a head one Friday after school when she asked me to stay to help with lesson plans, only for her to spend the entire time chastising me. “Honestly," she said with disgust, "How did you even get your teaching degree? They just hand that shit out these days? Like Oprah. You get a teaching degree, you get a teaching degree, everybody and their damn mother gets a teaching degree!"

My eyes went wide at the insult, but I refused to let her get the best of me, “Oh fuck off, Schemmenti.” I stood and found something in the corner to busy myself with, too tired to fight back like she wanted me to.

Melissa's eyes narrowed even further as she observed me attempting to distract myself. She set her cup of coffee down and leaned back against her chair, crossing her arms.

“You know, kid,” she said, the sarcasm dripping from her voice thicker than molasses, “If I wanted your lip, I’d get it off my zipper.” She smirked, relishing in the power imbalance she had over me.

I rolled my eyes and spat back at her, “Ha! That’s a damn joke. You wouldn’t be caught dead with a woman between your legs! You’re too afraid of what anyone might think. You play it cool, but inside… you’re just a scared little girl.”

Melissa let out a sharp laugh, enjoying the exchange far too much. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she pushed off from the chair, standing to her full height, now almost as tall as me. She crossed the room slowly and closed the classroom door, locking it, her heels clicking ominously as she made her way over to me. "Oh, my dear little mouse," she purred, "don't you worry your pretty little head about what happens between my legs." She gave me a wink that could only be described as predatory, a smirk still tugging at her lips as she added, “That’s way above your pay grade, hon.”

A shiver ran down my spine, I could feel a familiar pit in my stomach forming. I masked it by rolling my eyes and adjusting my stance. “They don’t pay me, Melissa.”

“And you’re worth every penny.” Her wicked grin grew.

“W-what’s your problem? Huh?” I snapped at her and turned my entire body to look at her. “What the hell did I do to piss you off so bad? All I do is come in, do what you ask, and go home.” I throw my hands up in frustration.

Melissa’s smirk widened even more as she noticed the slight stutter in my voice. Her demeanor softened slightly, but the hint of mockery remained in her voice. "Oh, sweetie," she said, a note of feigned pity lacing her words, "you're so naive, it's almost endearing." She paused, considering me for a moment before continuing, "The problem isn’t what you’ve done. It’s who you are- spineless, weak, and completely lacking a backbone- very similar to Janine. You’re basically a doormat."

The anger and hurt that had been brewing within for months finally exploded as I raised my hand and smacked Melissa across the face. “You will NOT treat me like this any longer. You understand? You are not my superior, we are supposed to be a team and all you do is treat me like dog shit. Just because I am soft does not mean that I’m weak, Melissa. That’s obviously something you’ve yet to learn…”

Melissa's head snapped to the side as my hand made contact with her cheek, a bright red handprint forming instantly. The smirk was gone from her face, replaced with a look of disbelief and outrage. She recovered quickly, though, slowly turning her face back to glare at me with fire in her eyes. Stepping closer, she hissed through clenched teeth, "Watch it, mouse. Who do you think you are, laying a hand on me like that? Don't think I won't knock you on your ass, newbie."

I stepped dangerously closer to her, anger radiating off of both of us. With that anger fueling my every move, Melissa braced herself for what might come. Crossing her arms, she lifted her chin defiantly, refusing to give an inch despite the fury in my eyes.

"Go ahead," she taunted, her words sharp and biting. "Hit me again. See what happens."

I looked her over for a moment, noting that damned smirk that graced her lips. God, I just wanted to slap that look off her face again. Instead, I grabbed her face roughly and smashed my lips to hers in a hungry, passionate kiss. I wrapped a leg around one of her own, wanting to be as close as possible.

The redhead gasped in surprise, her mouth opening slightly as my lips crashed against hers. However, the gasps quickly turned into a low moan, the sudden passion catching her off guard. She stumbled back, the surprise of her reaction causing her to lose her footing for a moment. Her arms wrapped around my body, pulling me close as she returned the kiss with just as much hungry passion. One of her hands slipped downwards, grabbing a fistful of my ass and squeezing firmly as she lost herself in the moment. I reveled in the feeling of Melissas’s hand on my ass, my lips parting. She used the moment to dart her tongue into my mouth. One of my hands weaved itself into her hair to hold her in place while the other squeezed her breast as I thumbed over her already erect nipple over her thin bra.

At the feeling of my hand grabbing her breast, Melissa let out a sharp gasp, her body arching into my touch. She broke the kiss for a moment, her eyes glazed with desire, and licked her lips as she panted heavily. "Careful, mouse," she warned, her voice gravelly. "You're playing with fire." Despite the warning, she made no effort to stop me, in fact she leaned forward, pressing her body against mine, her hand moved from my ass to my hip and pulled me impossibly closer.

“I can take the heat, kitten,” I hissed as I leaned in and sucked on the spot just above her collar bone, biting slightly.

At the nick of my teeth against her skin, Melissa let out a strangled moan. Her fingers dug into my hips at the pet name, and her head tilted, giving me better access to her neck as she surrendered to my touch.

"Don’t think this changes anything," she managed to gasp out, her voice catching slightly as she tried to maintain her usual bravado.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I whispered the words between panting and kissing the skin I had just bruised. Melissa's eyelids fluttered closed as I continued on my southward path, a shiver running through her body as my breath ghosted over her skin. She arched her back again, pressing her breasts against me, the tension between us growing thicker by the second.

"Cocky little thing, aren't you?" She managed to gasp, her voice raspy with arousal. "I’ll have to put you in your place, hon."

I pulled away from her grip completely and met her eyes. “Do it. I dare you, Schemmenti.”

Melissa’s eyes darkened, the challenge hanging heavy in the air between us. She loved a good challenge, and my defiant smile only fueled her competitive nature. Without warning, her hands found my wrists, swiftly pinning me against the wall, the sound of a soft thump echoed in the empty classroom, her chest heaving slightly with the effort. "You want me to put you in your place, hon?" She murmured in a low, sinful tone. "Be careful what you wish for."

I yelped at the force. She was so close and I became instantly drunk off of her perfume. “Fuck. Me,” I growled.

Melissa let out a low, guttural moan at my words, the sound went straight to the pit of her stomach, and it took all her strength to maintain her control.

She leaned in, her lips brushing my ear as her body pins me to the wall, her hips rocking slightly against my own. "Do you know what happens to naughty girls who make demands?" She whispered, her voice laced with desire. Her lips found my neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses down to my exposed cleavage. I shook my head, unable to form words.

She grinned against my skin, as she continued to explore my sensitive spots. Her teeth graze against my earlobe, nibbling gently before she whispered, "They get punished, hon. And you've been nothing but naughty this whole time, haven’t you, little mouse?"

I couldn’t suppress the groan that erupted from within. “What are you gonna do, kitten? Spank me?”

She laughs a deep, throaty sound against your neck. Her lips continue their path back down to the crook of my shoulder, where she nips harder than before, her teeth making sure to leave a mark behind. "You’re so eager for it, aren’t you?" She whispered, her hand snaking up to grasp your chin, tilting your head to the side. "You want me to put you over my knee, don’t you, little mouse?" My eyes fluttered shut for a moment as I drank in the moment and nodded in her hand.

Her hand tightened its grip on my chin, forcing my eyes back open, making sure I’m looking at her as she speaks. "Then say it." She commanded, her voice firm, but her eyes softened slightly. "Tell me you want me to punish you, baby."

I looked deep into her eyes, knowing just how I was going to unravel the woman. “I want you to punish me. I want you to bend me over your knee and spank me… mommy.”

Melissa’s lips parted in a soft gasp as the word ‘mommy’ spilled from my lips, her eyes momentarily filled with surprise as she felt a familiar wetness grow between her thighs. The look was gone within an instant, replaced by a heated look of hunger. "Oh, you’re playing dirty, aren’t you, baby?" She murmured, her voice taking on a lower, huskier tone. "You know just how to get me all worked up, don’t you, little mouse?"

I grinned wickedly at her as she dragged me over to her desk before she sat down. Melissa’s hands gripped my hips, positioning me over her lap and lifting my skirt, her eyes taking in the exposed skin of my ass. She could already feel a heat pooling in her belly as she looked at me, completely at her mercy. “You look so pretty like this, little mouse,” she purred, her hands caressing my skin. “I hope you know you’re in for a good, thorough spanking.”

I could feel myself getting wetter by the second. I rubbed my thighs, searching for friction as I waited for the spanking “Mmmmhm. I’ve been so bad for you, mommy,” I hummed.

Melissa’s eyes flicked down, noticing the way my thighs subtly rubbed together. She bit her lower lip, watching me like a predatory cat. "That’s right, baby. You’ve been a very bad girl," she murmured, her hand leaving my hip to trail upwards, tracing the curve of my spine. "And bad girls get spanked."

She brought her hand up and spanked my ass twice, gauging my reaction.

I let out a small gasp, my body jolting a bit on her lap as Melissa’s spank landed on my skin. The surprise quickly gave way to a low moan as I got used to the sting. Melissa watched my reaction closely, noting how I flinched and squirmed on her lap as the initial shock wore off. Her hand came down again, striking your my cheek, a bit harder this time. I rubbed my thighs together with each new smack, getting off on the punishment alone. “Mmm, fuck,” I breathed.

As the spanking continued, Melissa picked up on the growing desperation in my movements. Her hand connected with my ass again, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing in the empty classroom. "You really like this, don’t you, little mouse?" She moaned, her voice taking on a huskier tone. "You getting off on being punished by mommy?"

Her voice gave me butterflies. I’d never touched or been touched by Melissa before this, but it was my new favorite thing. “I do, you make me so wet, spanking me soooo good.”

Melissa’s hand came down hard on my ass once more, the firm smack sending a fresh wave of pleasure shuddering through my body. She let out a sharp exhale, watching as my body responds to her every touch. She growled again, her voice a low, sultry rumble, “You’re enjoying yourself a little too much, aren’t you, naughty little thing?”.

Melissa’s hand glided over my stinging skin, her touch a mix of gentle and firm. Her fingers ghosted over the curves of my ass, a light graze that’s hardly a touch. "I think you’ve had enough spanking for now," she murmured, her voice filled with a hint of amusement. "But that doesn’t mean I’m done with you yet, mouse." She prodded me off of her lap and I followed direction.

I rose from her lap, my body slightly shaky from the combination of the spanking and the thrill of submitting to her. Melissa grinned, enjoying the effect she had on me. "Get on your knees, baby," she commanded, her eyes dark with hunger. I again listened to instruction and got on my knees.

Melissa watched me as I sank to the floors, my submission making her heart race. She moved so that she was only inches from me, her body almost towering over me. Her fingers found my chin, tilting my head up to look at her.

"That’s better," she purred, her other hand tangling in my hair, her fingers grasping the strands and tugging gently. “You look so pretty on your knees for me, baby.”

I looked up at her as she pulled my hair, eyes rolling back in my head slightly with the pleasure, moaning a little too loud. Melissa let out a low, sultry laugh as she watched the effect her actions on me. The sound of my moaning pleasure was music to her ears, fueling the fire burning deep inside her.

"Look at you, all desperate and needy," she whispered, her fingers wrapping tighter in my hair as she uses the strands to tilt my head back even further. "You love it, don’t you? Love being controlled by me."

I panted harder, absolute putty in her hands, “Yes mommy, I love being your little mouse, the way you play with me makes me feel so good.”

Melissa’s eyes darkened even further, feral hunger taking over her composure. She used her grip on my hair to pull my head further back, exposing the expanse of your neck to her.

"Oh, I know you do, little mouse," she replied, her voice taking on a low, dangerous tone. "You’re practically dripping for me, aren’t you?" Her free hand suddenly reached out, gripping my throat, her fingers wrapped just tight enough to create a delicious pressure.

My eyes rolled back again as I leaned into her hand on my throat.

Melissa watched me closely, admiring how willing and pliable I was in her hands. The sound of my moans, the arch of my body as I leaned into her grasp, it only made her want to tease and taunt me further. "You really are a naughty thing," she whispered, her fingers applying a slight squeeze to my throat. "So desperate, just aching for my touch."

I reached forward and unbuttoned her pants then grabbed ahold of her hips and pulled her forward. Face to face with her crotch, I found her pants zipper and grabbed it with my teeth, pulling it down. “God I want you so bad, kitten.”

Melissa let out a gasp as I unbuttoned her pants, her body moving forward almost involuntarily. She looked down, her eyes watching as you pull the zipper down with your teeth, the sight sending a shiver up her spine. "Aren’t we eager," she comments, her voice slightly breathless. Her fingers once again tangle in your hair, guiding you forward as she speaks. "Go ahead then, baby. Have a taste."

I pulled her underwear down along with her pants in one tug. “Mmmm, I see the carpet matched the drapes,” I giggled as I took in the sight of her bare in front of me.

Melissa let out a low chuckle as she stepped out of her clothing, eyes never leaving me for a second. "Of course it does, little mouse," she laughed, her fingers still holding your hair in a firm grip. "And you’re just about to get a very close up look, aren’t you, hon?"

I smiled up at her, hunger in my eyes. I caressed her inner thigh before venturing further to her core. I dipped my fingers into her folds and moaned at what I found. “Oh mommy, you’re so wet for me,” I breathed in a sultry tone.

Melissa moaned aloud, the touch causing her to let out a shuddering breath. And when I moved my fingers between her folds, the sensation combined with my moan caused her to grip tighter on my hair, pulling my face closer to where she needed me most.

"Mmm, baby, you have no idea just how worked up you’ve made me," she whispered, her voice thick with want.

“God, you’re so hot, kitten,” I groaned. I took the direction to lean forward, and with a flat tongue I licked the sweetness that built up from out little game.

Melissa’s grip tightened further on my hair, her knuckles going white as I begin tease her entrance and begin circling her clit with a pointed tongue. Her hips jerked forward towards my mouth instinctively, a soft gasp escaping her lips. "God, you’re such a good little mouse," she moaned, her breathing already going ragged. "Don’t you dare stop, baby."

I hummed against her, “You taste so good, mommy. So sweet for me.”

My tongue’s contact with her sensitive spot caused a full-body shudder to wrack her frame. A guttural, animalistic moan escaped her throat as she rocked her hips forward, desperate for more of my touch. "Oh, baby, you’re doing so well. Feels so good," she gasped, her breathing becoming more laboured with each passing moment. "Keep going, keep going, please…"

I smiled at her words. Her little red curls tickled my nose as I sucked and licked harder and faster, looking up at her through lashes to watch her face. Melissa’s head fell back as I increased my pace, her grip on my hair becoming almost painfully tight. Her eyes fluttered shut as the sensations washed over her, the combination of my tongue and lips driving her closer and closer to the edge. "Oh God, darling, don’t stop, don’t stop," she moaned, her voice ragged and desperate. Her hips rolled forward, seeking more of my touch, desperate to reach the peak. "Just like that… oh just like that…"

I continued to work on her clit, but made eye contact and wiggled two fingers at her in a come hither motion, a questioning look in my eye. She nodded her want and guided my free hand to her entrance. I covered my fingers in her juices once more and entered her with full force.

Her body tensed as you entered her, the unexpected force making her gasp harshly. Her chest heaved as she gripped a new handful of my hair, her teeth biting her lower lip as she adjusted to the sudden fullness.

"Oh God, that’s it, baby. Mmmm fill mommy up," she moaned, her voice hoarse with desire. "Keep going, oh don’t you dare stop now…". Melissa let out another low moan as I continued to pump my fingers within her, her grip on my hair growing tighter by the second. Her breath came in ragged breaths, her body trembling with pleasure.

"God, yes, darling," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "You feel so good… you make me feel so good."

Her body became taut as a bowstring, every muscle tense as she edged closer and closer to release, holding my face to her center as she rides the waves of pleasure. "Oh God, I’m so close, baby," she said in a desperate whisper. "Keep going, just a little more… oh just a little more…"

With her words of encouragement, I flicked my tongue faster over her clit and found just the right spot inside to make her come undone. Her legs began to shake and I knew she was ready. “Come for me, kitten.”

Her body tensed even further as I fucked her faster, harder, her muscles coiled as tight as a spring. And then, with a loud, guttural moan, she finally succumbed to the pleasure, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm. "Oh God… oh God… yes, that’s it baby," she gasped, her eyes closed and her head thrown back in ecstasy. "Oh… oh… yes, oh yes… oh yes, yes, yessss…" I caught her as she lost the ability to stand upright, gently bringing her down to my level. “Fuck, Mel, that was hot,” I muttered between panting.

She collapses into my arms, her body boneless and trembling. She let out a low, throaty laugh as she leaned against me, trying to catch her breath.

"That… that was incredible, hon" she managed between gasps from the aftershocks. "You are too damn good at that." I kissed her temple gently, the first gentle act since the whole thing started.

Melissa leaned further into my touch, her body still trembling slightly as she came down from the high of her release. Her eyes fluttered shut as my lips brushed her temple, a small smile on her lips. "I don’t remember the last time I’ve come that hard," she said, her voice still a bit shaky. "You really know how to push my buttons, don’t ya, kid?"

I winked at her and kissed her lips. “Just as you know how to push mine… I’m still dripping for you, mommy…”

Melissa let out a sultry chuckle as she kissed me back. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, tasting herself on my lips. Her arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer as she pressed her body against mine. "Mmhm. I know you are, little mouse," she murmured, her voice low and dangerous. "And I intend to take care of that problem."

I moaned as her tongue darted into my mouth again. Melissa’s grip on me tightened as she adjusted her position over me. She broke the kiss, leaving a string of saliva connecting our lips as she grinned down at me. "Oh, darling, there are so many things I could do to you," she purred, her hand slowly trailing down my body. "But for now, I want to see you undone, just like I was."

Her hands on my body felt like fire and I wanted more. I tore my shirt off and pulled down my skirt. “I’m not far from it, kitten.” Melissa’s eyes roamed over my body as I removed my clothes, her gaze dark with hunger. She took a moment to admire the sight of my body, before she reached up to caress my bare skin with her hands.

"God, you’re just as gorgeous as I dreamed you would be," she hummed, her voice filled with awe. Her fingers traced the lines of my curves, her touch gentle and yet possessive.

I cocked my head and gave her a confused smile. “You’ve dreamed about me? About this? I thought you hated me,” I half whined.

Melissa chuckled, her fingers continuing their journey across my skin. There was a hint of amusement in her tone as she answered me. "Oh hon, I don’t hate you. I never hated you," she said, her voice soft. "It’s more like you pushed all my buttons and got under my skin. But let me tell you, there’s a fine line between rage and desire. Seems like you found it." Melissa captured my neck in a love bite, caressing my breast with one hand and my ass with the other. She moaned against my skin as she tasted me, her tongue gliding over the now-marked flesh. My entire body shivered with want and she grinned against my neck as she felt your reaction, her grip on you strong and possessive. My head fell back as I gave myself completely over to her.

Melissa’s tongue followed the line of my neck down to my collar bone, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. She pulled me closer, her body pressed completely against mine as her hands continued to caress and explore. "You’re doing so well, baby girl," she mumbled against my skin, her voice thick. "Just relax." Melissa maneuvered her thigh between my legs and I immediately rolled my hips down.

The redhead let out a moan as my wetness dripped down onto her thigh, her own body responding to the action. Her hands gripped my hips, holding me in place as she watched me move against her. "Oh, mouse, you’re so responsive," she purred, her voice low with desire. "You’re already begging for it, aren’t you?" I bit my lip and nodded sharply

“I need you mommy, I want you inside me,” I growled, sending electric waves down her spine.

Her eyes flashed with desire as I bit admitted my need. She grinned wickedly as she responded, her hands running up and down my back.

"Such an impatient little mouse," she murmured. "But who is mommy to deny you what you want? Just be careful what you wish for, baby." Melissa snaked her hand down to my core and thumbed over my aching clit with ease.

I hissed in pleasure at the contact if been waiting for, “Yessssss mmmm…”

She watched my face as she touched me, a smug grin on her lips as she saw the effect she had on me. "Does that feel good, little mouse?" she purred, her voice lower than usual. "You like it when mommy takes care of you?"

I bucked my hips further into her hand, leaving her palm wet, again unable to form words. Her hand remained firmly against me, her thumb continuing to tease my sensitive spot. She smirked as she felt the evidence of my desire on her palm, and she increased the pressure of her touch. "You’re so eager for me, baby," she husked, her voice thick with arousal. "I can feel how much you need this. How badly you want me to take care of you, right here, right now."

I groan loud, needing more, “Inside, please.” Melissa’s smirk widened at my plea, satisfaction coursing through. She pulled me closer, her lips just a breath away from my own.

"What do you want inside, baby?” she whispered, her voice low and sultry. “I need to hear you say it."

I looked into her eyes, hungry for release. “I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me with your fingers until you make me come.”

A low groan escaped Melissa at my words, her body responding to my need. Her hand slid lower, her fingers teasing at my entrance. She captured my face with her other hand, her grip firm as she forced me to meet her gaze. "You’re being so good for me, little mouse." Melissa’s fingers at my entrance drove me wild. I’d been on the edge of an orgasm since the first kiss, I was so sensitive and ready for her. I moaned and bucked, writhing under her touch. “Please please please, I need y-” I gasped as she filled me with two fingers. “F-f-fuck I’m already so close, you feel so good.”

Melissa’s eyes nearly went black with lust, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she took in the sight of me. She ran the fingers of her other hand down my cheek, her touch gentler now. "Oh no, hon. You don’t get to come just yet," she husked, her voice low and raspy. "Not until I say so. So be a good little mouse and hold on for me."

I nodded, holding in my release as she inserted a third and final finger, filling me up completely. “OH! Ohhhh yessss yes yes!”

She watched my face, taking in every expression and whimper. Her tone still commanding, yet also soothing she says, "That’s it, little mouse, hold it for me," her breath warm against my skin. "Just a bit longer. You’re being so good for me. I know you can do this." She pumped her fingers at just the right speed, hitting that spot just right.

“Mel, I’m so c-close,” I whined, my face scrunching in focus.

Melissa kept her pace and angle, hitting the spot repeatedly as she watched me grow closer and closer to the edge. Her face flushed, and her own breath now came in pants as she worked me towards release. "Just hold on a little longer, baby," she whispered. "You’re doing so well. You feel so tight and hot around my fingers, so good. Just a few more moments, and then I’ll let you come. Just a few more moments, I promise."

Her words drove me crazy, the heat building up was almost too much to bear. I leaned down and bit her shoulder, using it as a distraction to keep me from going over the edge without permission. “Mmmmm-mommy please,” I begged as I rode her fingers.

Her breath hitched as I bit down on her shoulder, the sting of pain adding to her arousal. "Not yet, little mouse," she growled, her voice gruff and commanding. "You’re being such a good girl, but you have to wait for my permission. Just a little longer. Almost there." Melissa felt my body tensing, sensing just how close I was to release.

My eyes rolled back and I almost went limp in her arms. Melissa watched as I grew more boneless, my body riding her fingers more on instinct than anything else. "That’s it, baby girl, ride them just like that," she whispered, her voice thick with lust. "You’re being so good for me. But not yet. Not yet. Just hold on a little while longer."

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck, oh mommy, please let me come, I can’t hold it anymore,” I cried as her thumb met my clit again.

Melissa looked up at my face, her own expression filled with need and awe at the control I exerted over my body. She knew she’d pushed me to the limit. She grinned, her eyes roaming over my body. "You’ve been such a good little mouse," she said huskily . "You’ve held on for so long. You’re so good. So desperate. I think you’ve earned permission now, don’t you?" All I could do was gasp and moan in response.

She knew I’d held on as long as I could, and she wasn’t going to make me wait anymore. "Come for me, baby girl," she ordered, her voice firm. "You’ve earned it, mouse. Let go. Now."

My orgasm washed over me with an intensity I’d never experienced before, and it felt even better knowing Melissa Schemmenti got me there. “OHHH fuck! Oh yes! Yes yes yessss! Mmmm oh God, Melissa!” I trembled and shook as I collapsed in her arms, completely out of breath.

Melissa watched as I let go and held me close as I came down, her eyes wide with awe at the intensity of my release. The feel of me trembling and shaking against her brought a smug grin to her face, her own arousal ramping up again at the sight of my pleasure. "That’s my good little mouse," she cooed, placing gentle kisses on my cheek and in my hair. "You came so hard for me, I’m so proud of you."

“Good God, Melissa,” I said between pants, still coming down from my high, “holy shit.”

Melissa held me tight as you rode out the aftershocks of my orgasm, her arms wrapped around me as I come back down to earth. She chuckled softly as she listened to my shaky breaths and shaky voice. "That good, huh?" she teased, her voice smug. "I guess that means you enjoyed yourself."

I lifted my head from her shoulder and looked at her through half lidded eyes, “I don’t think I can ever fuck anyone else now.”

Melissa smiled at my words, her eyes roaming over my face. Her hands moved across my back as she watched me catch my breath. "Well, I can’t say I’m disappointed to hear that," she husked, a smug grin on her lips. "After all, I don’t like sharing my toys."

My eyes closed as I smiled at her remark. “Kiss me?”

Melissa chuckled at my request, her lips curving up at the corners. She cupped my face with one hand and drew me closer, her eyes locking with my own as she leaned in. "Since you asked so nicely," she said, her voice low and sultry. And then her lips were on mine, claiming my mouth in a kiss. It was sweet and gentle, a sharp contrast to the entirety of our escapade.

I glanced at the clock as our lips parted. “Think we should get outta here? I’m sure Mr. Johnson’s been ready to lock up for a while now.”

Melissa hums, her eyes still closed as she savored the sweetness of the kiss. When she finally opened them, she nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you're right," she said with a soft chuckle. "We should probably head out. But we're definitely resuming this back at my place."

There was a flash of hunger in both of our eyes and I licked my lips. “Oh yeah? Then let’s get goin’.” I tossed her her pants and got myself dressed, straightening my hair and smeared makeup in the reflection of the window.

Melissa laughed as she caught her pants and quickly pulled them on. She watched me tidy myself up, a satisfied smirk on her face. She could tell I was eager to get back to her place, and she felt the same way. "Can’t believe you’re still trying to make yourself presentable after what we just did," she teased.

I blushed a deep red. “Not for you, just in case we happen upon Mr. Johnson on the way out!” I wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed her again.

Melissa smiled against my lips, enjoying the feeling of being in my arms. She wrapped her own arms around me, pulling me close as she kissed me deeply. "You’re adorable," she mumbled when the kiss ended, her eyes flicking over to the door. "And smart. Let’s get out of here before Mr. Johnson catches us."

I giggled like a schoolgirl and grabbed her wrist, “C’mon, kitten! We have things to do.”

The redhead followed me out into the hallway, her hand in mine. The nickname "kitten" made her heart flutter, and she matched my pace easily as we headed towards the car."You're in a rush, aren't you?" She teased as she glanced at me, a sly smile on her lips. "Can't wait to get me home and all alone, huh?"

I bit my lip and gave her a mischievous grin. “God Mel, I’m already dying for round two.” I winked at her and we rounded the corner to see Mr. Johnson standing there with his mop in hand, staring us down.

Melissa's eyes went wide as we came face to face with Mr. Johnson. As he stood there it became increasingly obvious he knew what happened in that classroom, and he was not mincing words. "Out a little late tonight, aren't we ladies?" he asked gruffly, his eyes moving from you to Melissa and back again. Both of our faces matched Melissa’s hair in that moment.

“$50 and you tell no one, Mr. J…” I offered, hoping to save us from some embarrassment in the teachers lounge.

Mr. Johnson considered it for a moment, his expression stern. Then he let out a small laugh and extended his hand. "$50 and my lips are sealed," he said. "But this better not become a regular occurrence, you hear me?"

I took my wallet out and handed him a crisp $50 bill, then mock saluted him. “Yes sir!”

Mr. Johnson pocketed the bribe money and nodded at me in acknowledgement. He turned his gaze to Melissa, his expression still stern. "You’re a terrible influence, Schemmenti," he huffed. "That poor girl didn’t stand a chance."

Mr. Johnson watched as Melissa tried to suppress her laugh, his eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. He shook his head and pointed his mop in her direction. "You’re a menace," he grumbled. "Now get outta here before I change my mind about keeping quiet."

I pulled Melissa’s arm and started walking very quickly to the exit. “Thanks, Mr. J! See ya Monday!” We didn’t stop until we got to Melissa’s car.

“The whole school is gonna know, aren’t they,” I asked as I buckled into the passenger seat.

Melissa cackled, her face still red with embarrassment. "Oh, absolutely," she replied. "Mr. Johnson couldn’t resist the bribe money, but he’s definitely the biggest gossip at Abbott. They’ll probably know by breakfast tomorrow, and if not then by Monday morning guaranteed.” She settled into her seat and started the car as she buckled in. I gave her a look of disbelief.

“You coulda told me and saved me $50! You so owe me, Schemmenti!” I smacked her arm and then placed my hand on her thigh, squeezing slightly.

“Definitely thinking of ways I can make it up to you…,” Her pupils dilated as she took my hand in hers. My head fell back in another laugh.

“Then step on it, Jeeves!”

[kiingkiismet]

You ARE selfish. Why should I vote for the ones who have been actively committing genocide against my people for almost a year?

Why do you all expect Palestinians and other Arab-Americans to get over it and vote to protect your rights and lives when you’ve all done everything you can to show us that OUR rights and lives are apparently the only ones that don’t matter?

First of all—no matter what we do, voting is supposed to be harm reduction and there’s always going to be something negative. Black Americans (psst: that’s me) for the longest time have been voting for the “least harmful option” for decades even IF those people are still harmful to some degree. Honestly, the best case scenario that could’ve happened is if colonialism didn’t happen 400+ years ago, but here we are.

Like I said in my original post, there IS no perfect option, and doing nothing will only allow the OTHER option to succeed. Yknow, the orange fuck and his posse of conservatives who objectively want to strip everyone of their rights and will definitely still be supporting Israel with what they’re doing. Instead of narrowing in and making it an individual moral matter, it should be “what else are we to do that will cause the LEAST amount of harm possible?” Which is what I and others are trying to do. Pointing fingers and telling people, especially other people of color in the same fucking boat that we are selfish is very unhelpful. Read the room, we are ALL in danger here!

Because if you missed it when I said it time and time again, I am ALSO a minority in this country. I will ALSO get harmed and if I am at risk of harm and death (more than I already am given police brutality, threat of trans healthcare, lack of investigation in murders of BIPOC and queer folk, etc.), how can I help other people further?? Dead people can’t help others.

I DO care about Palestinians AND other minorities in this country and outside of it, we are all in the same fucked up boat here. No one is telling yall to get over it, that’s wrong and that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying the other option will not care about me, and they sure as shit will not give a shit about yall.

I do not think Kamala is a saint, but she’s leagues better than two white men who are so damn myopic and can’t see the suffering of anyone who is not them, at least it will buy us time (4 or 8 years) to find another suitable candidate that better represents the people and hurt us even less than her. There was no time between the beginning of this year and now to get a new candidate that all Americans can collectively agree upon to stamp trump out. That is virtually impossible—and if you say it isn’t, you have clearly forgotten what happened in 2016 where we tried that and ended up getting trump.

Do not tell me that I do not care when it’s yall and other minorities ALL AT ONCE in danger when the trump administration wants ALL OF US dead and will CONTINUE wreaking havoc internationally as well. We CANNOT let that happen so Kamala is literally the ONLY option.

[chelseeebe]

dirty little secret.

NOT MY GIF!

summary: a babysitting gig at one of your dad's employee's houses leads to a filthy affair of secrets with a certain mr. harrington.

a/n: i have not proofread this one bit, i just wanted to get it posted so i could start on some ghostface!steddie hehe. i suppose this is another installment of the older!steve/mr.harrington saga though in my head they're different people.

he's a scummy scumbag but that's okay because it's sexy (don’t do this irl) smut and inappropriate relationship dynamics. r is 23/24 and steve is mid 40's ish.

it had all started fairly innocently.

a simple phone call asking if you could do some last minute babysitting. sure. easy enough.

earn some extra cash for doing absolutely nothing.

your dad had recommended you. someone who worked for him, steve or something or other, you’d met him before but that was years ago when you were much younger.

christ, you had a degree now. navigating the post-grad world. not with much luck.

the actual babysitting had been simple enough, feed the kids, put them to bed and now you could just relax.

the house was huge. obviously not decorated by a man, or at least not on his own. it was all meticulously designed, you’d never know there were kids living here. or anybody at all for that sake.

you’re lounging on the sparkling white couch waiting for this illusive steve to get back from wherever. your dad had said eleven but it was well past.

he makes an appearance at quarter to twelve, sighing loudly as he steps into the large hallway. the door makes you jump, sitting up straight on the sofa as if it were illegal to be sitting comfortably on such an expensive piece of furniture.

you peer over the back of the couch as he walks into the living room. finally putting a face to the name. you’d gone to his wedding reception so many years back, unhappy and moody as you’d been dragged along.

‘i am so sorry,’ he says, shaking his head and removing the tailored suit jacket, slinging it over a chair, ‘the dinner ran over and then it was just awful traffic.. how were they? i hope they didn’t give you too much shit,’ chuckling deeply.

‘no.. no, they were great,’ you nod, smiling weakly, standing up to gather your things and finally leave.

you couldn’t help but notice how tight his shirt was, clinging onto his defined arms. you draw your eyes away quickly, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

‘good,’ he breathes, pouring himself a glass of whisky out of the obviously insanely expensive bottle, ‘d’you drink?’ offering a glass to you.

‘uhh.. not whisky,’ laughing quietly, still standing awkwardly in the middle of the obscenely large room.

‘it’s good stuff,’ he shrugs, still holding the second glass to you.

‘i’m okay.. thank you though,’ you nod, stepping closer to him. he smelled great. expensive.

‘fair enough,’ he laughs, taking a short sip, ‘right.. you wanna be paid,’ digging around his pocket for his wallet.

his pants also incredibly well fitted. there’s no need to mention what they were showcasing.

you give him a tight lipped smile, looking anywhere but his crotch.

his wallet is almost overflowing, stuffed with notes and various cards. you try not to gawp at the sight. your dad most definitely did not flex like this.

he hands you four fifty dollar bills, holding the pile in your palm. fingers clasping your hand. the sensation alone is enough to give you butterflies.

‘that’s too much,’ you shake your head, trying to refuse. a whole two hundred dollars to make mac and cheese and watch television.

‘no no, take it, thank you for coming so last minute, have you got a ride home? i can get you a cab?’ he nods, maintaining heavy eye contact, honestly making you squirm.

‘i drove.. thank you so much,’ placing the notes into your bag, still under his heavy gaze.

‘okay,’ he smiles, ‘i’ll uh- i’ll get your number from your dad for next time.. if you don’t mind?’

‘uhh..yeah sure.’

‘great.. thank you, again,’ his hand brushes against your arm, causing the goosebumps to rise instantly.

you give him one last shy smile and walk to the oversized front door. baffled by the things you were feeling. the small yearning feeling bubbling in your stomach. a man god knows how many years your senior. it felt wrong.

dirty.

-

the next time you babysit for him, he’s prepared. a bottle of fancy vodka left next to the whisky.

‘you’re a vodka girl, right? i can tell,’ he winks, a deep laugh erupting from his throat as he pours the clear liquid into a glass.

‘ahh.. how’d you know?’ you smile, not wanting to refuse the man, especially as he’d gone out of his way to get this for you.

he taps his temple, holding the drink out to you, ‘intuition..’

the conversation flows on, telling him about your degree and where you planned to go with it. him humbly flexing his own work, talking about the various connections he could make for you.

‘i know you’re robert’s daughter but i just.. i feel like i’ve seen you before,’ his eyebrows squeeze together, knee almost touching yours as his legs spread across the sofa.

‘i uh- i actually went to your wedding, the reception at least,’ you laugh, still heavily avoiding eye contact even though you could feel his eyes boring into your face.

‘oh my god, that’s right.. you were miserable,’ his laughter rumbles through the room, if the house weren’t so big you’d be worried about it waking the kids. not a chance they could hear a thing in this mansion.

‘i was.. i didn’t know you! my dad made us go,’ you giggle, just about meeting his dark eyes before quickly glancing down at his hand grasping the glass, noticing the lack of wedding ring.

he notices, rubbing the empty finger, ‘no,’ chuckling, ‘we’re not.. if you were wondering,’ you can’t tell if it’s a smirk or just his slightly tipsy smile.

‘sorry,’ you breathe, awkward that he’d noticed your attempt at subtlety.

‘don’t be.. we’re still married for now, but we’re not together,’ he nods, seemingly unaffected by the separation.

‘oh.. right,’ you chuckle, unsure of how you’d ended up discussing his divorce at midnight on a friday night. it wasn’t exactly anywhere near where you’d pictured yourself being after graduation.

‘d’you have a boyfriend?’ he asks, shifting slightly to face more towards you, still nursing the neat whisky.

you shake your head, ‘no.. not at the moment,’ staring just past him as to not make direct eye contact.

‘oh, i thought for sure someone would’ve snatched you up,’ his gaze falters, lingering on your exposed thigh, your skirt had slightly ridden up as you’d sat.

‘surprisingly not,’ weary as to whether you should pull your skirt down or let his eyes loiter. opting for the latter.

the attention was nice. unexpected. but not unappreciated. it made your stomach tight, slightly intimidated by his dark eyes.

‘hmm, that’s a shame,’ his tongue runs along his bottom lip, eyes slowly making their way up to meet yours.

you don’t know what to do. where to leave your eyes. his intense stare only worsening your composure. you’d have probably thrown yourself at him if he didn’t answer to your dad. complicating matters immensely.

‘you want another drink?’ he asks, leaning closer, shaking his own empty glass.

‘no.. thank you,’ the words struggle to come out, throat dry at the proximity of his body to yours. the smell of whisky and his cologne mixing to create an intoxicating smell.

‘sure?’ he reiterates, smirking as his eyes fall to your parted lips. mostly trying to regain air into your lungs.

your breath hitches in your throat, suddenly unable to speak, watching as he slowly moves over. cocky smile plastered across his face, relishing in your spreading blush.

he brings his face to within just a few inches of yours, pausing, ‘tell me if this is too much,’ the feel of his breath against your nose.

you shake your head slightly, almost paralysed by his eyes. it was confirmation enough for steve. his lips brushing yours softly, as his free hand moves to rest just above your knee.

your lips move with his, tasting the remnants of the expensive alcohol as his tongue glides across your bottom lip and into your mouth. a quiet gasp comes out as his fingers slide up your leg, his smirk evident against your mouth.

letting him take full control of the kiss, leaning back as his chest presses against yours. he takes full advantage of your new position, fingers creeping up your already short skirt.

you move back fully, back against the soft cushions. he doesn’t break the kiss as he moves on top, sliding between your now open legs, groaning into your mouth when your hands finally touch him.

resting on his shoulders as he manoeuvres his body, fitting perfectly with yours. he pulls back from the kiss, taking a brief moment to catch his breath, looking into your eyes for encouragement.

you haven’t enough time to process anything before his hips begin to move against yours, lips now attacking your jaw line. peppering kisses and gentle nibbles to the skin, eliciting a barely audible moan from your throat.

his hand had found it’s way to your panties, fingers rubbing against the cotton, ‘holy shit,’ he mumbles into your neck, ‘you’re already soaked.’

you recoil, burying your face into the pillow next to your head. this only makes him laugh, his body vibrating against yours as your panties are pushed aside, two fingers circling your entrance before slipping inside.

‘shit,’ you curse into the pillow, gripping onto his shirt.

his other hand comes up, coaxing your face out of the pillow with a gentle hand. when you finally emerge you can feel your cheeks heat up, his blown out pupils gazing back at you.

‘look at me,’ his voice bellows out, ensuring your attention stays firmly on him. you almost want to look away, just to see what he’d do.

there’s a small voice from somewhere up the stairs, ‘daddy,’ it whines and steve groans above you.

‘shit.. two minutes,’ he curses, removing his hand from underneath your skirt, climbing off of the couch.

you’re immediately jolted back to earth. back to mr. harrington’s living room where you were immodestly dressed. you sit up, face screwed up in disgust at your frankly whorish actions and pull your skirt down to an appropriate length.

‘fuck,’ you hiss to yourself, what the hell where you doing? screwing around with your dad’s employee who by the way, was at least double your age, was not on your cards.

you stand, frantic to gather your things and escape before he comes back down. you’d just ignore him if he called again. you could cut the loss on whatever you were owed for tonight.

you’re halfway down the long corridor when he creeps down the stairs, ‘sneaking out?’ his voice appears from behind, making you jump halfway out of your skin.

spinning on your heel to face him, every part of your body heating up with embarrassment, ‘i should get home..’

‘you don’t have to.. stay,’ he grins, walking towards you, one hand brushing against your arm.

you swallow, knowing exactly where that hand had been just minutes earlier. the feel of his bulge moving against your thigh. you almost shudder at the thought.

‘i shouldn’t..’ you manage to squeak out, mind preoccupied by what was hidden under those tight-fitted suit pants.

‘it’s late, i’m sure your dad wouldn’t want you driving at this time,’ he bargains, fingers squeezing around your arm.

‘okay,’ you breathe, relinquishing your stance, it seems it didn’t take much.

‘good,’ he nods, a smug expression overtakes his features, ‘give me two minutes,’ letting go of your arm and walking back into the dimly living room.

you stand awkwardly in the hallway, clutching your small bag and waiting for him to return from whatever the fuck he was doing. it was honestly made worse with the anticipation of what was to come. it was inevitable.

the light snaps off and he re-emerges, clutching onto a small glass of whiskey, motioning for you to climb the stairs.

you oblige as he follows closely, spare hand reaching up to rest on the small of your back.

‘ah.. i don’t think the guest bedroom has been cleaned.. i can make up the bed for you quickly if you want?’ he hushes, hand dropping to hover just above your ass.

you roll your eyes instinctively, it would seem men never grow out of the awful frat-boy tactics. he feigns shock for a brief moment before guiding you further up the hallway, towards his own room.

you hold your breath, entering the room. a large bed with silk covers takes up most of the room. he closes the door softly behind him, flicking on the lamp and setting his drink on the bedside table.

you marvel at the room, the extravagance of it all. it honestly could’ve passed as a five star hotel. he walks back over to you, running his hands around your rigid frame. unexpected overcome with nerves.

‘relax,’ he breathes, nudging his face into your neck, pressing amorous kisses down onto your exposed collarbone.

a small sigh leaving your mouth, which steve loves. taking it as a sign to continue, walking you over to the bed, hands groping any flesh they could.

your skirt flipped up over your ass as he continues the attack on your neck. your hands finally settling on his muscular shoulders, clinging on to his white shirt as you're dipped back onto the bed, his body climbing on top of yours.

'wow,' he mumbles, muffled by the crook of your neck, hands roaming the length of your body, 'so pretty.'

his large palm glides up, lifting your shirt with it, the cold air immediately leaving goosebumps over the exposed skin. only worsened by his soft fingertips trailing along behind your shirt, breaking apart long enough to pull it over your head.

your mouth falling open when his lips find their way to your neck once again, sucking on the tender skin. your fingers absentmindedly unbuttoning his shirt, defined shoulders peeking out as you gently tug it down his arms.

moving down to rid him of his pants, not ignoring how big he already felt under your palm, wondering if you'd even be able to take him all.

'y'sure about this?' he asks into your neck, fumbling with your panties as your hand tries and fails to undo his belt buckle.

you nod, cheek brushing against his mess of hair still buried in your neck. he reappears, gazing down at you as your fingers continue to fumble with the expensive, over-complicated belt.

you finally unclasp the metal, gasping as his cold hands brush against your thighs, fingers finding their way to your sensitive clit, circling around, causing a hushed moan. terribly aware that his children were not too far from you.

‘j-jesus,’ you mumble, sliding down his tailored trousers and rutting your hips against his, feeling his already very erect cock against your centre.

he’s still staring down at you, inches away from your face, unable to decipher the look on his face, a mix between animalistic desire and lust.

your legs lock around his torso and he wastes no time in aligning himself with your entrance, only breaking eye contact to look down at the space between your bodies before sliding in, a raspy moan vibrating from his throat.

hand sliding from the back of his already moist neck, down onto his shoulders, his shirt half-off as he thrusts in and out, pressing his forehead against yours. it feels incredibly intimate, his hot breath brushing against your cheek, the sounds of his balls slapping against your drenched cunt.

your head falls back onto the pillow, hair splayed out around you, rhythmically slamming into you. eyes fluttering closed when his thumb finds your sensitive clit once more. he grins when your hips buck against his in instant approval.

'yeah? y'like that?' he breathes, slowing his pace as you clench around him, nearing your climax. you can't open your eyes to look at him, the immense feeling of pleasure growing in your lower abdomen.

his gruff groans only accelerating your orgasm, 'sh-shit,' you babble, digging your nails into his skin as you reach your peak, waves of hot pleasure running through your body, thighs squeezing his torso, pulling him deeper as you writhe against him.

a series of expletives tumble from your lips, loosening your grip on his skin as he continues thrusting into your now sensitive cunt. the sound of your sweet moans pushing steve to his own orgasm, hips stuttering with his final few strokes before pulling out, painting your thighs with his load.

his mouth hangs open as he catches his breath, running a hand through his damp hair, watching as you come back down to earth. you brave opening your eyes, catching his amorous stare, a small smile overtaking his face.

you're unsure of how to feel, slightly embarrassed, still laid bare on the cotton bedsheets, scrambling to cover yourself as he reaches for a previously discarded towel. cleaning the mess he had made on your skin.

'well.. i'm glad you didn't sneak out,' he simpers, removing collapsing onto the bed beside you, fully removing the half-undone shirt from his body.

'me too,' you attempt to contain the smile on your face with the pillow, though it doesn't really work, exposing your smugness.

he sits up slightly, peering over you to the alarm clock on the bedside table, 'it's late, y'should probably just stay here.. just say i got back super late,' falling back onto the mattress.

you nod, not wanting to defy his suggestion. not that you wanted to leave anyway, fairly happy to stay right here with him.

steve pulls the satiny covers fully over the both of you, turning on his side to face you. dimly lit by the definitely overpriced lamp in the corner of the room. his hand comes up to your waist, pulling your body into his.

you're clueless as to how this had all transpired. now in what was technically your bosses bed, falling asleep in the older man's arms with no idea how you'd explain this to your dad in the morning.

-

steve's lips wake you in the morning, his stubble brushing against your shoulder as you blink, remembering where the hell you were.

you hadn't woken when he'd got up earlier to get his kids ready for school, probably for the best. not wanting to answer questions as to why their new babysitter was still here in the morning, dressed in their dad's shirt.

'good morning,' he breathes, nose nuzzled into the back of your neck, strong arms snaking around your waist.

'hi,' you respond, slowly coming to, relaxing into his embrace.

'nancy's taken the kids to school.. we've got a little time before i've gotta work,' you can feel his smirk, wandering hands already finding themselves between your thighs.

'your ex-wife was here?' sounding slightly panicked, knowing deep down that whatever had happened last night would land the both of you in serious trouble.

steve picks up on your worry, planting a wet kiss to your shoulder, 'don't worry.. she just picks them up, we're good,' reassuring you only slightly.

before you can dwell on the thought too much, his erection presses against your ass, eliciting a sharp gasp from your throat. you giggle, moving your leg to allow further access.

not quite sure what exactly was going on but absolutely elated to be involved.

-

your dad always had an extravagant party for his birthday. like, unnecessarily big with far too much money poured into it. you’d had to miss the last few years as his birthday fell in finals week.

the last time you remember going was when you were seventeen, you’d sat in the corner for the entire night watching as everyone danced and got drunk. wishing you could’ve been literally anywhere else in the moment.

this year, you’d have to go and deal with the fact steve was also there. in his best suit with those sickly fitting pants, hair perfectly styled and smelling like that intoxicating cologne you loved.

and you’d have to do it all without giving any inclination as to what was going on between you. it was about to be the hardest night of your life.

steve had even helped you pick out your dress. obviously opting for the most revealing option, trying to play it off as just liking you in black. you’d sworn there was a teenage boy alive inside of that man.

the last few weeks had been spent with him, mostly under the guise of babysitting. spending days at a time in his glorious house, waiting for nancy to collect the kids so you could leave his room. indulging in luxurious breakfasts, sharing clothes and enough sex to keep you satisfied for life.

not without plenty of gifts, hand-crafted pieces of jewelry and god knows how many bright bouquets of flowers now littered around your room. even adorning the beautiful diamond necklace you'd received last week, tonight.

your sister had questioned the sudden abundance of gifts but you'd carefully brushed her off, putting it down to some new guy you'd been seeing, she wouldn't know him.

the start of the party was absolutely fine. sipping on some rather expensive white wine, listening to your father go on and on about his life, never missing an opportunity to talk about you and your sister.

it was inevitable that at some point you would have to speak to steve. especially as you were his new babysitter and seemed to be over there a hell of a lot, working.

‘she’s great, isn’t she?’ your dad boasts, standing between you and steve.

your eyes meet his, a sight you’d actually missed all night. taking your bottom lip between your teeth, a small knowing smile on your lips.

‘yeah, absolutely.. i’d be lost without her,’ steve grins, nudging your dads arm. his eyes don’t leave yours, blood rushing to your cheeks, playing it off as just being bashful at all of the attention.

‘you’re over there enough, i’m surprised you let her have the night off,’ your dad laughs, slinging his arm around your shoulder and rubbing your arm.

‘ahh of course, she can have anything she wants,’ he clears his throat, continuing to make heavy eye contact, ‘she’s such a big help y’know?’

‘too right,’ your dad laughs, clinking his glass against steve’s.

you want to get the fuck out of there, unsure if you had the strength to not fucking pounce on steve the second your dad looked away.

the chat goes on for a little while, switching topics to unimaginably boring topics like whatever it was they did for work. steve had attempted to explain it to you, not that it was much help.

the small group disperses into their own groups and you’re left stood opposite steve, clutching onto your wine glass trying your damn hardest not to let your eyes falter to his package.

he leans in, whispering into your ear, ‘come and find me in five minutes.. there’s an empty meeting room down the hall, you’ll know which one,’ before pulling away, you suspect to go to said room.

you almost don’t want to. let him sit there waiting on his own as revenge for the flirtatious words he’d spoken about you to your dad. you don’t. obviously.

there was not a chance you could leave him be, especially not with the way he looked tonight.

besides, it was kinda fun. risky. there wasn’t much risk involved when you were at his house. other than dodging nancy in the mornings and hoping praying that the kids wouldn’t walk in in the middle of the night.

you give a quick look around, patting the older woman on the arm as you break away from the conversation you were only half-included in. trying not to trip over your feet as you exit, trying to find this meeting room.

there’s a row of almost identical doors and you want to curse him out when the last door in the corridor is adorned with a large, silver 69 nailed to the wood.

you open the door slowly, edging your way into the room when you’re pulled into the darkness. large hands grabbing at your waist holding your body against his chest.

‘oh my god,’ you say, almost too loudly, holding yourself steady as you grip onto his shirt sleeves.

‘shh..’ he hushes, you can just about make out his features from the small amount of light being let into the room. half of his face engulfed in the shadows.

‘you’re a child,’ you smirk, slightly tipsy and very much desperate for his touch.

‘i knew you’d find it,’ he chuckles, fingers digging into the fat around your waist, eager to feel the skin beneath your dress.

‘you’re not fu-,’ you’re interrupted by his lips crashing against yours, trying to pull you even closer. he’d mesh your skin with his if he could.

your hands move to cup his face, palms running against the stubble on his cheeks. jesus christ he could have you right here. you wouldn’t even care at this point.

his fingers inch your already short dress up, riding to the top of your thighs. you slip your tongue into his mouth, the one tiny bit of dominance you had in this situation.

a low groan rumbles into your mouth as one hand glides down his torso, stopping just above his belt. he manoeuvres both of you backwards, crashing into a rogue desk, fingertips surely leaving bruises as they clutch onto you.

‘we can’t,’ he mumbles, lips resting on the side of your mouth, leaving small, wet kisses as your fingers work on undoing his belt buckle.

‘we can,’ you nod frantically, aching to feel him inside of you.

the metal clanks together as you get it unbuckled, sliding a hand into his pants, palming above his boxers at his growing cock as he grunts into your mouth. falling apart at your touch.

the hallway light flickers on fully, footsteps leading up the corridor, stopping just before the room you were in. you pull your head back, eyes wide, just about seeing his worried expression.

‘well we’re about to do the cake, where is she?’ the voice you now recognise as your sister’s echoes in the hallway.

hand still comfortably dipped into his trousers as your head snaps to the door, making desperate pleas to god and anyone else above that she’d turn back around.

‘shit..’ he whispers, pulling your hand from his boxers by your wrist, distressed as your sister walks further up the hallway and back down.

you’re confident she’s back in the main hall as you exhale, relief washing over you, ‘oh my god,’ you giggle slightly, it was pretty funny now the immediate threat had gone.

steve does not share the amusement, his face straight as zips his pants back up, pulling away from you. you screw up your face in confusion, yanking your dress back down to an appropriate length.

‘jesus fucking christ,’ he huffs, tucking his shirt back in.

‘oh c’mon.. it’s fine, she doesn’t know.. no one knows,’ you frown, placing a hand on his arm in an attempt to reassure him.

‘this was a stupid idea,’ jerking his arm away.

‘this was your idea,’ utterly dumbfounded by his attitude, nothing bad had happened so was the annoyance really necessary?

‘i know that- look, you should get back out there,’ he shoos you off to the door.

‘why are you being so weird? it’s fine,’ you breathe, now slightly offended that he was being so mean.

‘go.. they’re looking for you,’ patting your back, ‘i’ll slip out in a minute.’

one of the downsides to an older man definitely included his lack of a sense of humour. you didn’t appreciate having to explain simple jokes or why you found something funny. it was as if he felt the need to be serious about everything.

you shake your head as you slip out of the door, making sure the hallway was empty. there’s a lump in your throat. he still clearly thought of you as a child. someone that needed to be told what to do.

steve doesn’t make eye contact with you for the rest of the night. carefully averting his eyes when you’d try desperately to garner his attention. you don’t even notice him slip out of the door, deserting your plans to go over when the party had ended.

it all felt terribly embarrassing. not that you’d even done anything wrong. it was his idea to go to the room. nothing had even happened, your sister still had no idea anything was even happening between you.

you call him when you’re eventually home and sure everyone else was asleep. sitting cross-legged on your bed, the phone pulled over and resting on your lap.

‘hello?’ he speaks groggily into the phone. you’re shocked he’d even answered.

‘oh hello, d’you remember me?’ you reply, still slightly tipsy and now sharing the anger he’d obviously felt earlier.

he sighs and you can hear him sit up, bedsheets rustling in the back, ‘i’m sorry.. it was just- that was too close.. i can’t lose my job, you know that.’

‘nothing even happened, steve! you’re not gonna lose your fucking job,’ you snap, gripping onto the plastic receiver.

‘i know.. i just have to be careful- we have to be careful,’ once again trying to spin it as if you’d been the one to drag him into the damned room.

‘we are,’ you swallow, vision blurred as the lump in your throat reappears, ‘i know you’re scared but you don’t have to take it out on me.’

he exhales, ‘okay, i’m sorry,’ sounding only slightly remorseful.

‘i wanna see you,’ you sniff, wiping your face with the sleeve of your shirt, ‘can i come over?’

‘it’s late,’ he notes, you can hear the sheets rustle again and the soft padding of his feet as he gets up.

‘that doesn’t answer my question,’ deepening your frown, picking at a loose thread on your shorts.

you can still hear him doing whatever the fuck he was doing in the background, ‘i’ll be there in fifteen.. round the back.’

your frown immediately disappears, ‘okay,’ putting the phone down and jumping from your bed, getting your stuff ready to go.

you’re there waiting for him around the back of your house, an empty dimly lit road. you practically ran to his car when his headlights turned the corner.

sliding into the seat, slightly damp from the rain that’d started, he looks over quickly before speeding off. not giving anyone the chance to spot you.

there’s a small silence before you speak up, ‘i’m sorry,’ apologising for seemingly nothing. it didn’t matter, really. as long as he wasn’t mad anymore.

his hand comes over, resting on your knee, ‘we just have to be careful.. i wasn’t really angry.’

‘i know,’ you nod, though you didn’t. he seemed angry enough. enough to outwardly upset you.

you swallow any feelings of dejection. he'd apologised after all. what was the issue?

-

steve had been awfully quiet. suddenly not requiring your services as often. being overly cautious about your relationship, calling every few days and only inviting you over when the kids were with nancy.

you’re not afraid to bring it up when you do eventually go over. he was faffing about with some paperwork, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as you sit and watch.

‘why are you being so off with me?’ you speak up, curling your feet up underneath you.

‘hmm?’ he hums, barely lifting his head to acknowledge the fact you’d just spoken to him.

you huff, ‘you’re not even listening,’ crossing your arms over your chest.

‘i am,’ he slowly tears his eyes from the paper, looking over at you, ‘what’d you say?’

‘i said, why are you being weird with me?’

‘what?’ shaking his head, looking back at the numbers on the sheet.

you want to scream. tear the piece of paper into tiny shreds and sprinkle them across the living room.

‘you don’t call me, you don’t want to see me.. i don’t understand what i’ve done,’ you frown, shifting your position to face him fully.

he sighs, long and exaggerated, ‘that’s not true, nancy’s had the kids more.. i just haven’t needed you here as much,’ shrugging you off.

‘oh, so now i’m only your babysitter? you only need me here to fuck, is that it?’

‘you’re twisting my words,’ he finally puts the paper down completely, taking his glasses off and placing them on top of the pile.

‘so what am i? your babysitter or your girlfriend? i’m getting confused,’ sarcastic as you were losing your temper. he was great at evading the question at hand.

he blinks, ‘i’m not gonna argue with you, if that’s what you’re looking for,’ rubbing his temples.

‘answer the question.’

he’d never explicitly called you his girlfriend. you’d just sort of assumed that your relationship had gone past secret hookups. what with all the time spent together, the long hours spent chatting and the occasional, far-too-expensive gifts he’d gotten you.

‘you’re my.. i don’t know, my girlfriend?’ he’s so nonchalant with it all. only pissing you off further.

it was blatantly obvious just why his previous marriage hadn’t worked out.

‘do you want that?’ you ask earnestly, narrowing your eyes at him.

‘well not when you’re like this.’

it must’ve been a skill of his, to make you feel so crazy. so guilty for just wanting some clarification on your relationship.

you’re left speechless, opening your mouth to reply but nothing coming out. you look down, trying not to let him see your tears.

‘you know how i feel about you,’ he sighs, caressing your cheek, running his thumb over the blushed skin.

you nod under his grasp, squeezing your eyes to stop them from leaking.

‘yeah? you gonna stop being silly?’ he says softly, moving in closer. your eyes meet his, watering as a rogue tear slips out and rolls onto his hand.

you felt like a petulant child. like you’d just been told off and needed to be comforted. except, you only wanted to be comforted by him. his touch being the only thing to settle you.

you’d do anything to keep that. even if it meant biting your tongue and being ignored a few times a week.

he smiles when you place your hand above his, leaning into his touch. accepting that to have this, you had to take whatever he would give you.

[tigergirltail]

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 1 - MONTH MINUS 6 - THE CONSULTATION

The specialest of special thanks to @ayviedoesthings for creating the original Dragon HRT story, and a big shoutout as well to @kaylasartwork, @welldrawnfish, @nyxisart, and @deadeyedfae for their takes on the concept! Every one of you is inspirational, and your work gives me so much second-hand gender euphoria!

Next

---

"Miss Alexis, please come in."

I look around as I walk inside. Between the doctor being a balding middle-aged man and the office looking like any generic doctor's office, I'm honestly a little disappointed. I was hoping the infamous source of therian HRT would be a little more… I don't know. Exotic? Unique? I was half expecting the walls to have before and after photographs of clients, but I suppose when it comes down to it, this is a serious medical facility, not a beauty salon. I walk up to the desk and sit down in the chair.

"Now I understand you wish to be a… a tiger?"

I'm unable to suppress my euphoria at the idea, and I start grinning and nodding. "A white tiger! I haven't changed my fursona since I got one, it's about time I start embodying it!"

"Indeed… And I see on your medical history that you are transgender." He mutters under his breath, "Just like all the others…"

I give a little smirk. 'All the others' are the reason I'm here. If this guy is handing out meds that can turn people into dragons or fish or bats, then a tiger should be easy, right? It's a mammal, and not much bigger than a human, relatively speaking. I had even given some thought to the rumoured "Fifteen Minute Shortcut", but when it comes down to it, even if I did have the ungodly pain tolerance to withstand such a rapid transformation of my bone structure and musculature, I… don't really want to do it quickly. Mundane HRT has already been such an absolute gift in terms of euphoria from noticing the slow and gradual changes, I want to keep that up. I want to notice the little things.

"Now I'm afraid there are some requirements to be settled first…"

Oh boy. Here comes the bureaucratic bullshit. Everything that's been put in place to make sure Our Children don't Make A Terrible Mistake. When it comes down to it, bodily autonomy only counts when you're not one of the weirdos. The instant you decide to be capital-d Different, people start falling over themselves trying to talk you out of it.

"First of all, I see that you have been taking human hormone therapy for a little over six months. We do require a full year of human treatment before beginning therian treatments, and I'm afraid that is fully non-negotiable. There are matters of biology that require the body to be a certain degree of… receptive."

I was afraid of this, but at least it's not a deal-killer. Another half-year is bearable, even if I am going to be shaking with anticipation the entire time.

"I also see you have letters from a practicing physician and a social worker, but we do require a second psychologist to be involved in the process."

Okay. Absolute horseshit, but not impossible. All I've got to do is find another social worker or psychologist. And pay them for several months of sessions. And hope they don't decide I'm crazy for wanting to throw away my humanity. I can feel my expression souring…

"It's also required to live as your desired species for at least a year before beginning the process."

"What." I'm leaning forward and glaring at the doctor before I fully realize it. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that, without the… the requisite biology, or the inborn instincts, or the… the habitat!" I let out a frustrated growl. "Am I supposed to fly off to India or Bangladesh or somewhere, and start camping out in the wilderness??"

"Miss Alexis, please, I'm afraid these are… are the requirements set forth by the guidelines of -"

"Guidelines!" I slam a palm down on the desk between us, before letting out a frustrated breath. "Just that… Guidelines. You know, and I know, that a lot of people have come to you already, with a lot more… exotic requests. Flying animals? Aquatic animals? A fucking DRAGON??"

The doctor seems taken aback, maybe he didn't expect this level of resistance.

"What is even the natural habitat of a dragon anyway? Or the diet? Or the behaviours in the wild?? It's a mythical creature for gods' sakes, there's no firm evidence they even existed!!" I stare at him, unblinkingly, with what I dearly hope is a predatory glare. "But I do get it, though. You have to be absolutely sure I won't regret it. Liability, or whatever. …Maybe we just need to know how hard I can BITE."

Something changes in his expression. ...Malice? No, not quite. A sort of… satisfaction, maybe.

It was a test. He wanted to know whether I'd just roll over and accept the impossibility of my quest, or whether I was prepared to fight for it.

Joke's on him, just getting human HRT was such a godsdamned hassle, I already know how to fight.

He adjusts his glasses. "Perhaps there is something I can do for you… Let me get you some forms."

[trblsvt]

★ my favorite lyrics + seventeen

pairing | ot13 x fem!reader genre | angst, hurt comfort (?), fluff (if you squint?) warnings | references to sex/suggestive, swearing, situationships! ALSDKJ, toxic relationships, actual breakups, heartbreak, and relationship angst, cheating/infidelity (?) in one section (it’s a first date, but someone gets distracted), alcohol consumption min | lowercase intended. and honestly i say fem!reader but i don’t think i used any pronouns that indicate gender identity. (keeping the tag to stay safe). some (most if not all) of these songs came from my top 100 songs of last year. and most of these are kind of sad... sorry

choi seungcheol “you're scared to be lonely, 'specially in the night. i'm scared that i'll miss you, happens every time” - die for you by the weeknd

you just didn’t get it, he thought to himself. you were looking for something that he couldn’t give you, or something he didn’t know how to give you. he couldn’t stop thinking about the way your eyes were welling up after he told you that he wasn’t trying to gain anything else from the relationship. 

“so this is all i mean to you? just a thing to use when you’re bored?” you asked, quietly. it appeared that had taken every ounce of fire out of you. 

of course not, he thought. i’d do anything for you.

“yes,” he confirmed. why did i say that? he thought again.

“get out of my house, choi seungcheol.”

ouch. you knew he hated being called his full name, especially by you. he remembered when you did it jokingly and he held that stupid pout on his lips for almost two hours. (that is until you went over to him and planted kisses all over his face). 

he didn’t understand what was so wrong with what the two of you had going on. he thought you were happy. it worked out great. together, but not actually together. after the first time he spent the night, he realized how strong his feelings for you were. they were so far beyond anything he had ever felt before. now how was he supposed to explain that to you. 

“no,” he said simply. 

“i don’t want to see you anymore, seungcheol, so leave!” you yelled at him. “i’ve wanted more from you ever since i met you, but now i can see that’s something you’ve never wanted.”

“that’s not true.”

“then tell me, seungcheol! what am i missing? because you just told me i’ve been nothing but your plaything while i was putting my heart in your hands.”

“i’m scared that i’ll miss you too much.”

you froze.

“i’m so scared that if i give myself to you, the way you deserve, it’ll just hurt more when you realize that i’m not the one for you. i can barely think when i’m away from you. i don’t think i’ll be able to breathe if i’m actually with you. i miss you so much just when i leave after every night. i don’t know how to give you what you want. i don’t even know where to start. i’m sorry.” he didn’t know when he started crying, but he was. he diverted his gaze to the floor. his heart wouldn’t only hurt more if he looked at you. his heart would hurt and he’d only miss you more when you told him to leave again. so he was surprised when he felt your hands come up and wipe his tears away. “then try,” you mumbled softly. “try.”

yoon jeonghan “and the funny thing is i would've married you if you'd have stuck around” - doomsday by lizzy mcalpine

there you were. as beautiful as the day when he last saw you. you were just sitting there reading at a table in the local cafe the two of you frequented when you were together. “jeonghan?” you asked, standing up from your place.

shit. was he staring?

“hi, ___,” he finally responded. 

“i knew you looked familiar,” you laughed, and he wished he could keep it forever. “i see that you’re growing your hair out again, it looks nice.” 

“thanks.” he would never change his hairstyle ever again. 

“come sit, it’s been a while.”

so he sat.

he sat and he listened as you talked. how you finished your degree. how you finally bought an apartment that you actually liked. how you got that dog you always wanted. how you got promoted at work. and how you had a great new boyfriend, and that said boyfriend was meeting you in the next fifteen to twenty minutes. “so what about you, jeonghan? how’s work? how’s joshua? i bet you have all the ladies after you,” you joked.

he could say it. he could say that he was still so deeply in love with you. he could say “i love you” over and over again to make up for the times when he didn’t. he could say that he wanted you to break up with your boyfriend. he could say that he hasn’t been able to find someone else without comparing them to you in every way possible. he could even say that he wished every night that he was the one in your dreams in the same way you were in his. 

yet, he didn’t, not after what he did. it would be wildly inappropriate to tell you that, especially when you seemed so happy without him. so all he said was, “oh you know me, pretty average. it was really nice to catch up with you.”

you gave him a look, and he somehow knew he was busted. “i don’t hate you for what you did, jeonghan. know that, alright? we were both a bit too immature for one another. i would’ve married you in heartbeat though, even if it meant you left me with all your broken pieces,” you sighed. “i loved you, jeonghan.”

loved.

“and i’m certain you will find someone who loves you as much as i did you.”

but i love you.

“thank you, ___. truly,” was all he said, but wasn’t what he wanted to say. 

hong joshua “and i'd leave you, but the roller coaster is all i've ever had. yeah, it's one step forward and three steps back. do you love me, want me, hate me?” - 1 step forward, 3 steps back by olivia rodrigo

“clearly i’ve wasted my time my time on you,” you finally said. that shut him up. “you can’t possibly mean that,” he stammered, but the blank look on your face told him otherwise.

“i can’t be the only person invested in this relationship, joshua!” you sighed.

“who said you were?” you scoffed at that. joshua had been wildly absent from your relationship, opting to hang out with friends playing basketball, eating out, watching movies. really doing anything except be with you. “well it sure fucking feels like, joshua,” you grumbled.

“what did you say?” he sounded angry, but the look on his face looked more confused than anything. damn his face. damn that perfect smile. damn those kind eyes that kept you crawling back to him even if he stood you up for the third time that week. “i said it feels like i’m the only person putting anything into this relationship. when you told me that you wanted to go beyond just fucking i really believed you, and i was actually excited about getting to put an actual label on whatever we had. but now, i don’t fucking know how to act around you. you stood me up at least three times last week, and i-”

“what do you want from me, ___? i showed up tuesday night and we watched all the movies you wanted, didn’t we?” he interrupted. 

unbelievable.

“yeah, and then when you said we could hang out on friday night you suddenly ditched me. not only that, seungcheol told me you guys went to play basketball on friday and proceeded to go out to dinner afterwards,” you huffed. “it’s like we make some sort of progress in this - this - whatever this is - and then you do something that sets us back!”

“god, do you need to be with me all the fucking time. you’re so clingy,” he grumbled under his breath, but you heard him.

“clingy? i’m only upset because you said you were going to be there. you said you were free and that you wanted to hang out. i’m upset because you don’t even give me the simple courtesy of saying ‘oh hey i’m sorry something came up’ or ‘i actually can’t, i had plans with the guys.’ but no, i don’t hear anything from you. to think i actually love you. fuck you, hong,” you spat, grabbing your things and heading out his door before he could stop you. 

“wait! love? you love me? ___!” he called after you, but you were over it. despite how much it hurt your heart to leave behind his stupid laugh, his stupid music taste, and his stupid eyes that you’re quite sure you probably won’t get over. 

ironically enough, that was the first time you said “i love you,” and probably the last.

wen junhui 请快回来 想听你说说你还在 “please come back quickly, i want to hear from you that you are still there” - unbreakable love by eric chou

he knew you were sick of waiting around for him. work was hard and so was maintaining a relationship. a lot harder than he thought it was going to be. when he began going away for extended periods of time you always called or texted when you were about to go to sleep or when you woke up in the morning. 

then he started going away more. 

he was around less.

couldn’t call you back as often as he once did.

then you started contacting him less. 

the messages that held the run-downs about your days became infrequent and then rare. he reached out too, but calls and messages were brief. he began wondering what he was even trying for anymore. his friend, minghao, began to notice this. he noticed jun frowning at his phone more, or he looked more anxious by the end of the day like he was running late to something.

he knew you were probably busy. he couldn’t expect you to wait around for his calls, but his brain told him otherwise. it told him that maybe you were tired of waiting around for him. 

he was sitting in minghao’s hotel room eating some lame takeout for the nth time this week. minghao could tell that jun was not focused on his meal or in the conversation they were having. “you should probably just call ___,” minghao suggested.

“what if, what if it’s a bad time?” jun countered, a weak defense.

“just call, wimp. worst case scenario: leave a voicemail,” minghao shrugged. 

“fine. see you tomorrow.”

“you owe me for the food.”

“yeah, yeah.”

jun made his way back to his own hotel room and pulled up your contact. “just do it,” he grumbled and pressed call. he sat down on his bed as he listened to the ringing. on the fifth ring you picked up. there was loud music in the back with muffled voices. “jun? hey, babe,” you yelled.

“hi, ___. i was just checking in to see how you’re doing. i’m coming back home next week,” he sighed, feeling a bit more at ease.

“that’s great, junnie! i’m looking forward to it.” you sounded absentminded. “am i interrupting something?” he asked.

“oh, well, it’s my friend’s birthday party and she’s going a bit off the rails. can i call you back later?” you explained as lightly as possible. you knew how he got about this kind of stuff. “oh yeah, totally. you should’ve told me earlier, i don’t want to interrupt your fun. have fun,” he said pulling the phone down from his ear, not hearing how you paused and tried to call out to him.

so you do have better things to be doing. he understood. you were your own person, but it had been so long since he had even spoken to you. maybe you didn’t want to wait around anymore. then he saw all the posts that you shared of you out having fun, without him. you looked happier. he dwelled on it for longer than he should’ve. 

he dwelled on it for another three hours and then his phone rang. he picked it up without looking at the caller id. “hello?” he answered.

“jun, are you okay? you hung up so abruptly back there. i just got back home,” you asked, you sounded concerned. 

“do you still want to be with me?” 

“what - yes. why would you ask?” you sputtered. never once did you have a doubt in your relationship with jun. you understood that it was hard, with him being away and all, but you would always be around to wait for him. “i don’t want to make you feel like you’re waiting for nothing. i leave for weeks, come back for one, and leave for three more,” he sighed. “i don’t want to weigh you down.” 

“do you think a little distance is going to break us, jun?” you chuckled.

“i don’t know! just either be there when i get home or tell me you can’t wait around any longer,” he cried. it was disheartening to hear him like this. you never wanted anything more than him. the type of love you had with jun was beautiful and it would cross seas if necessary. 

“i’ll be here for as long as you want me, jun. now, come home quickly. i miss you.” 

kwon soonyoung “you only call me on the weekend. you only love me when we freakin'” - the weekend by bibi

you were trying to slip out unnoticed. soonyoung had passed out essentially right after the two of you cleaned up. he had insisted that you should stay the night. you tried to refuse, but the way he looked so tired and sweet when he basically begged you to lie down in his arms. 

and you were weak, so you did.

except, when he fell asleep in the crook of your neck you were still wide awake. you heard his phone going off and being nosy you looked to see notification after notification from his other hookups, and you were suddenly reminded why you were in the first place. you needed to leave.

 you tried your best to maneuver your way out of his grasp. you were slipping on your socks when he stirred. “where are you going?” his voice worn.

“i have an early day tomorrow, i need to get back to my place,” you lied.

“liar.”

“excuse me?” how in the world could he possibly call you on something when he was half asleep?

“you’re running. just stay the night. it can’t hurt.” oh, but it could. the question was: would it hurt more to tell him or to just keep the arrangement as is? before you could weigh your options, your mouth had already taken over. “it would hurt,” you said. “it already hurts.”

“what hurts? did i- did i do something wrong?” he asked, sitting up suddenly interested. you knew what he was thinking. “not in the way you’re thinking, soonyoung,” you smiled. “it hurts because throughout this whole agreement i accidentally caught feelings for you and it fucking sucks. because while you’re out hooking up with other people, i can’t even bring myself to hookup with another person because i think you’ve ruined me.”

“___-” he began, he looked apprehensive.

“i know. i know this wasn’t what we agreed on, and i know you’re not looking for anything right now. i just like you so much, and every time i look at you, i just wonder why you can’t just like me back. i’ll just go. i can’t do this anymore, soonyoung. i’m sorry.” you sighed.

“i am too,” he replied quietly, and he genuinely was. 

jeon wonwoo “one day i will stop falling in love with you. some day someone will like me like i like you” -  let you break my heart again by laufey

you often borrowed wonwoo’s things. from hats to jackets to random necklaces you found around his apartment, everything was fair game. sometimes you would forget to return them and wear them out. wonwoo never complained or tried to steal the clothes back from you. he liked them better on you anyway.

one day his friends noticed. it was just a house party where you had been teasing wonwoo all night about his less than average kart rider skills. you had taken his glasses off and placed them on your nose. “look at me i’m wonwoo and i suck at kart rider,” you imitated his voice puffing out your chest and bumping into his shoulder. 

“hey, i need those,” he chuckled, squinting at the tv in front of him. 

“yeah, yeah, i know. they look better on you anyway,” you grumbled, delicately placing the glasses back on his nose. “i’m going to get a drink, you want anything?” he shook his head, and you got up.

“wonwoo, isn’t that your coat?” mingyu casually asked as he sat down next to wonwoo on the couch. wonwoo didn’t even really process what mingyu was asking, but answered, “oh, the one ___’s wearing? yeah.”

“so, does this mean you two are finally together?” mingyu pressed. 

“uh, no. it just means i like sharing.”

“just like how you like sharing your glasses,” mingyu scoffed. “bullshit.”

mingyu got up and walked over to where you were chatting with some of your friends. wonwoo wanted to act like he was paying attention to seungcheol absolutely demolishing him and chan at kart rider, but he was only focused on you. 

he knew he didn’t stand a chance against the other guys you had been going out with for the past few months. he knew that you were probably better off with a guy like mingyu or something, and when he saw you chatting with mingyu he knew he couldn’t even begin to compete. in your eyes, he was just your cute best friend that did you favors all the time.

“you know, i think you should really un-friendzone wonwoo,” your friend giggled.

“i agree,” mingyu piped in.

“please, wonwoo’s just my friend,” you chuckled, glancing over at the dark haired man sitting on the couch. “plus, i already have a date this weekend.”

it was true. you did have a date lined up. it was about the fourth new guy this month. none of the people you’ve been meeting had actually clicked after the first date. which was a bit disheartening since you’ve been trying to date for a while. 

the only constant in your life was wonwoo. he’s been with you since high school, and the two of you quickly rented an apartment together when you two decided to attend the same college. it was a nice set up, and you appreciated his companionship. he was there for every high and low of life, and didn’t complain if you were a mess most of the time. he was just there. a great friend.

as wonwoo and you walked home, he admired the way you looked at everything around you. the stars in the sky or the flowers that lined the windows of some apartments. it was comfortable with you. “you have a date later this weekend?” he asked quietly. you hummed in response. 

you were a little too busy watching your surroundings to see wonwoo’s face fall a bit. he would watch you go off on these dates every so often, and nothing came to fruition for most of them. if they did, they were quite short lived. although it broke his heart every time you overlooked his hinting gestures, he would always be there to help you get ready and pick up any broken pieces. he’d be there at your door with a cup of coffee for you in the morning or he’d give you the space you needed if you asked. whatever you asked of him, he would do because he’d let you break his heart as many times as you wanted and he’d still come back. after all, he was your best friend. 

he just wished that someday he would finally leave the feelings he harbored for you behind, and he could find someone who loved him the same way that he loved you. even if it wasn’t you.

lee jihoon “feels like we had matching wounds, but mine's still black and bruised and yours is perfectly fine now” - the exit by conan gray

jihoon was jihoon. you were you. there wasn’t any way around it. you had met him at a bad time, that’s all you could say about it. it probably wasn’t the best idea to start hanging out as much as you did. you knew that, and so did he. yet, you two did, and it was nice while it lasted.

“i just thought- i just thought we could continue seeing each other,” you grumbled. you weren’t sure what you were expecting out of jihoon. he was always a bit, emotionally reserved. 

“i mean, why would we?” he asked, blinking slowly at you. of course he would ask that. “you didn’t think we were actually like dating, right?” he asked. 

well no. 

you and jihoon had established a mutual distaste towards labels, but now you regretted not putting one on what you had with jihoon. “i mean, i didn’t. i just thought-” you trailed off. what did you think? that maybe by the time he figured out his shit, you would have figured yours out too. or maybe that he would’ve noticed your growing feelings towards him. 

“look, ___. you have been a greater help than i could’ve ever asked for. i was, well you know, just out of a long term relationship that ended well, badly. you were with me through every step of the healing process, and i will forever be grateful for you,” he said, taking a step closer to you.

“yeah, you- you really helped me too,” you mumbled, you couldn’t help the tears that were forming in your eyes.

“___? why are you crying?” he asked.

“no reason, jihoon,” you sniffed. there was a perfectly good reason why you crying, it was just a bit too embarrassing to tell him when he obviously didn’t reciprocate your feelings. maybe you got attached to jihoon to easily, someone who was obviously emotionally unavailable. maybe you had a type. 

things had ended badly with your ex, and you feared that things would end horribly with jihoon before they could even begin. 

maybe he would say you were too clingy, too needy, too this that and the other thing. was wanting to be loved such a bad thing?

all you really wanted was for him to notice you, but it appeared as though he was too focused on healing himself that he had left you behind without as much as a band-aid. 

lee seokmin “and though it's fading with time, i remember the warm nights with love in your eyes. passing the days, watching rains as it dries, staring at your eyes i know it's the time” - less and less by matt maltese 

a ball of sunshine. that’s how you described lee seokmin. you always grabbed his face in your hands and just looked at him, and he’d let you. then he’d giggle or something and you’d smile while you memorized every aspect of his face. 

but now, but now, he couldn’t even look you in the eye, not after he heard that you didn’t really care to see him anymore. it was weird to overhear from one of his friends who still kept in touch with you. apparently he would be too much of a distraction or something to that effect. he knew the chances of reconciliation were already slim, but just knowing you didn’t really want to see him at all hurt. it wasn’t necessarily a bad or messy break up either.

a mutual friend of the two of you had just gotten engaged, and they were having a celebratory dinner. seokmin had the feeling that you were going to be there, but he couldn’t skip out on this just because his ex would be there. that would be - sad.

you were chatting casually with one of the other dinner guests, and you looked as beautiful as ever. “seokmin? are you even listening to me?” soonyoung whined next to him.

“you’re drunk, soonyoung. i probably shouldn’t listen to anything you say,” seokmin chuckled, pushing on his obviously drunk friend. soonyoung whined and threw his head back against the wall that was behind his chair. “___ looks nice tonight,” he commented. seokmin nodded in agreement. 

he stole another glance at you, and that was when he met your eyes. god, those eyes. the same kind ones that he looked into every night before you said your goodnights and i love yous. you offered him a small smile and he reciprocated it as best as he could without it hurting his chest too much. 

he found himself stealing glances at you when you didn’t even bother to look over. he wished he could sit next to you and hold your hand. kiss your cheek like he used to. should he profess his undying love for you even though you had broken his heart over six months ago? would that be appropriate?

by the end of the dinner, seokmin had slung soonyoung over his shoulder and was bringing him out to his car parked nearby the restaurant. “seokmin, why don’t you ask ___ out again?” he grumbled as seokmin dragged him into the passenger seat. the smell of alcohol reeked on his breath as seokmin buckled his pouting friend in. soonyoung continued, “you two were so good together. so cute. you were so down bad for ___.” seokmin sighed. he knew that already. 

he looked at you like you hung the moon, and he genuinely believed that you did. your soft kisses on his cheeks and warm hands around his were nice, but they weren’t enough. as much as he wanted them to be, they just couldn’t be enough. 

“seokmin?” he heard your familiar voice float into his ears and shot up instantly, hitting his head on his car as he tried to escape the clutches of soonyoung. “oh, are you okay?” you giggled. 

“yeah,” he said, standing upright and rubbing the back of his head. and there the two of you stood in silence. oddly enough, it wasn’t as awkward as he thought it was going to be. there was a dull pain in his chest when he looked at you. “look, i just wanted to say it was nice seeing you tonight,” you said. his heart soared, but the pain hurt. “it was nice seeing you too,” was all he seemed to muster before he turned around to check on soonyoung. 

you must’ve thought he was trying to get out of the conversation because the next words you said sounded rushed. “i want you to know that i don’t hate you,” you said.

he froze. 

“i mean, i know you heard about what i said about not wanting to see you. that’s not what i meant,” you sighed. 

he nodded dumbly.

“i just- i know we didn’t end things badly at all. it was actually quite nice. i said that after we broke up and i was still a bit upset, i guess. i thought that if i saw you, i would just hurt all over again. i just wanted to stop hurting. i should’ve considered that you might hear about it and misunderstand, and i’m sorry about that.”

silence.

“i’ll always want you in my life, seokmin.”

“i’ll always want you in mine too,” he finally said, and he felt like he truly meant it. he knew that he wouldn’t be in your life like the two of you had planned, but just hearing that you wanted him - needed him - to just be there was enough. 

he had all those times that you looked at him with such love and affection that he didn’t care how he was in your life. he just needed to be in it. he had the memories how you kissed him. how you hummed songs while lounging around the house. how you would wrap your arms around him while he was cooking. how you held his hand when your car broke down in the rain.

you would remember the way he just admired you at a distance. how he cried when he forgot to water your plant when you left town for a trip. how he brought you flowers when he knew the ones you had were dying. how he sang in the shower. how he laughed at all of your jokes. how he grabbed your hand and kissed it just because. 

now you stood so close to him, but so far. he wanted to hold you close to him, feel your hands on his face, hear your laugh, kiss your lips, anything and everything. all it would take would be a couple of strides and he would be close enough to smell the perfume you put on for the evening.

but something in him kept him from doing that. he looked at you. the look in your eyes wasn’t the same as when the two of you were together. something else was there. admiration, respect, unconditional love. something in your eyes told him it was time to let you go. he would always remember you and all the moments you shared, but he needed to let go of what he had. let it fade until all that remained was the dull ache in his heart. 

“i’ve missed you, ___,” he said meeting your gaze. 

you smiled, “i’ve missed you too. please don’t be a stranger.”

“i won’t.”

the pain in his chest was still there as he watched you leave, but he supposed that it would always be there.

kim mingyu so i can't love you even though i do 밀어내 봐도 난 너를 못이겨 “so i can't love you, even though i do. i try to push you away but i can't beat you” - invu by taeyeon

this was wrong. he knew it. you knew it. he was on a first date with mutual of one of his friends, and he only agreed because he needed to get his mind off of everything, off of you. it should be easy, nice laid back dinner date. it had been a while since he had been on first date, but he couldn’t be that bad at this whole first date thing.

apparently he was pretty bad at it. 

“mingyu,” you gasped, as he grabbed onto your waist. “where are you taking me?” he didn’t say a word. something in his blood boiled when he saw you sitting with your friends at the same restaurant he was at. he quickly excused himself from the table and made his way to your table. your table was conveniently located on the way to the bathroom. he turned his head to make sure his date wasn’t looking, luckily his date’s chair was facing the other way, so he could get away with snatching you away from your friends.

you barely had time to process what had happened. you sensed someone rushing toward you, but you figured it was just a waiter. suddenly you were pulled out of your seat and there was a familiar arm wrapped around your waist. “mingyu, what are you doing?” you demanded as he pulled you into the single-bathroom and locked the door. “i was having dinner with my friends.”

“and i was having dinner with a date, but here we are,” he scoffed.

“you’re on a date, and you dragged me in here!” you yelled. “mingyu, you’re unbelievable. you should be on your date. this is incredibly rude of-” 

“do you miss me?” 

“what?”

“do you miss me?”

“not in the way you want me to.”

that seemed to do it for him. he pressed you against the bathroom wall and kissed you in the way that took your breath away. “mingyu,” you gasped in between his kisses. you felt the way he was holding onto you, it was pure need. “mingyu, we- we can’t. your date,” you breathed as your hands found purchase on his shoulders.

“fuck my date. i’m only on that date to stop thinking about you,” he admitted.

“mingyu-” you began to pull away from him.

“stop calling me that,” he pulled away and looked you dead in the eye.

“what? your name? it’s your name, mingyu. what else am i supposed to call you?”

“please, ___. you know.” it sounded pathetic and you practically melted. “gyu,” you caved. he didn’t realize how much he missed you until this moment. well, he had been missing you since the two of you parted ways several months ago, but now that he had you so close to him, that he had just kissed you, he missed you more than ever. you were so close. he could just go back to kissing you. he really wanted to go back to kissing you. 

you don’t know how you could let this happen. mingyu was always very nice to you. he was sweet, caring, attentive, all the things you could want in a boyfriend, but you just weren’t ready for the type of commitment you knew he craved. 

he wanted to move in, settle down, get married, live life. it was all too real to you, so you ran.

sure it hurt to break up with him. to tell him that you didn’t want to move that fast, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever marry at all. it was all just too confusing. but now, that you were here with him, you knew that you had made a mistake.

but you had missed your chance.

he tried to move back in to kiss you again.

“gyu, stop,” you whispered. he did, but he didn’t back away. “go back to your date, gyu,” you sighed. “it isn’t fair to your date. it isn’t fair to you.”

“what do you mean, ___? i want you. i’ve only ever wanted you,” he complained, he couldn’t let you leave again. “i’ll wait for you, for as long as it takes for you to realize that it’ll always be you. that you’re the only one for me,” he rushed.

“don’t say that stuff, gyu,��� you smiled at him resting your palm on his cheek. “i missed my chance with you. you deserve someone who will appreciate you from the start. you don’t deserve someone who makes you wait around.” 

and with that, you pulled away from him, took a quick glance in the mirror and fixed your hair, and left.

and he had no choice but to let you. 

xu minghao “oh, simple thing, where have you gone? i'm getting old, and i need something to rely on. so, tell me when you're gonna let me in. i'm getting tired, and i need somewhere to begin” - somewhere only we know by keane

“what do you want?” you asked, leaning against your door. 

“can i, uh, get some books that i left here?” minghao asked not meeting your gaze. you squinted your eyes at him. this was so not minghao behavior. even though the two of you stopped hooking up a couple months ago there was still some sort of tension that made you want to claw your hair out. “yeah, i have work soon, so, uh, make it quick,” you mumbled, moving out of the way of the door. he nodded and quickly brushed past you. 

your apartment was small and you knew what books he was looking for. they had been sitting on your coffee table for the past months. it wasn’t like you took time to read all five of them in his absence. it wasn’t like you ranked them by how much you thought he would like them. it wasn’t like you knew the book with the green cover would be his least favorite. but you knew you were never going to tell him that. 

you picked up the stack of books and handed them to him. he took them and glanced around your apartment. he noticed that the painting the two of you made together as a joke was still hanging out by the window, and he couldn’t help be smile at that. 

now there the two of you stood. saying nothing. being with minhao was always quiet, but never this type of quiet. this was stale and somewhat raw, you missed the times of soft comfortable silence. 

“well, thank you for holding on to these,” he finally said.

“of course, i mean i’m not a monster who throws away books,” you chuckled. he laughed. you loved it when he laughed, especially since it took you ages to get him to stop stifling it around you. 

“before i go, ___, i just need you to know that i don’t regret the things we had, and i don’t regret how things ended. i just need to know why.”

if you thought the air was stale before, you were not prepared for that. “i- i swear it has nothing to do with you,” you said. all he did was nod. “i don’t know,” you resigned yourself. 

“yes, you do,” he shrugged. you stared at him, dumbfounded. yes you knew, but you were barely ready to admit it to yourself, how were you supposed to admit it to him? 

“i understand that you’re lost, i am too. maybe you can’t tell me right now for whatever reason, maybe you don’t even know yourself, but i can’t stand not being around you,” he said finally.

you just looked at him. he wanted to be around you? after you broke up with him? he still wanted to be around you. 

“look, i know it’s weird, but i’ve spent a lot of my time with you. i’ve genuinely enjoyed all the things we’ve done together, and i’m just at a loss for what to do. you were a huge part of my life and now that we’re not together i-” he rambled

“don’t know where to start again,” you finished for him. his eyes flickered between you and the ground. 

you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same. leaving minghao had left some sort of void in your life that you weren’t prepared for. he had been a huge part of your life and then he was just gone. “i guess we could try to be friends again,” you suggested. “just to start again.”

he nodded.

deep down you knew you couldn’t just be friends with him, and he knew that too. yet, he agreed. he needed somewhere to begin again, and you did too. so like you always did, you would always come running back to each other even if it meant leaving each other for good in the future.

“hey, hao,” you called after him. he turned on his heel and looked at you expectantly. “don’t read the book with the green cover. you won’t like it,” you warned. he glanced down at the books he was carrying and back up at you. “noted,” he smiled. “i guess you’ll have to recommend me a different one next time.”

boo seungkwan “if i were a mountain, i'd stand my ground, and maybe i'd never listen. but if i were a mountain, i'd close my mouth and maybe i'd be forgiving” - i’m not a mountain by sarah kinsley

seungkwan tried. he tried his hardest. he gave his everything in every aspect of his life. he gave his all to you, yet for some reason it wasn’t enough. sure, he knew this wasn’t an official thing, but he still treated it as though it was.

“i just- i don’t understand,” he stammered. the look in your eyes was not one of malice or hatred, just sorrow. “i’m moving, kwan,” you sighed. “i can’t- i can’t make you wait for me. we can hardly make it when you make your trips.” 

that was true. he needed you like oxygen and his job wasn’t necessarily very forgiving towards the health of his... friendships. “don’t you think we can work it out?” he questioned. “is everything we’ve done together mean nothing?”

“that’s the thing! everything we’ve done means everything to me,” you cried. “please just let me go. maybe if we meet again, it’ll be meant to be.”

he paused. 

it meant everything? did that mean...

“i can’t just let you go. we are meant to be. us, here. right now. this is right. why can’t you see that?” 

from his perspective, it was his fault.

did he not show you enough love? did he not text or call enough when he was away? was he not a nice enough friend for you to stay?

 if he was stronger he would’ve stopped you, even though he knew you were right. some people say that couples who are meant to be together can last the test of time and distance, but that was the issue. you and seungkwan were meant to be together, physically, mentally, emotionally.

“seungkwan, please just - i’m sorry. i can’t play this game anymore.”

“then let’s stop playing, i’ll give you everything!”

“but i can’t give you everything.”

that would be fine, as long as you’re with me, he thought.

“i’m sorry, seungkwan. i- do like you, a lot. more than i should. and it isn’t fair to you to wait for someone like me who can’t love you in the way you deserve,” you sighed, making your way to the door.

if seungkwan was stronger, he would kiss you. he would hold you in his arms and tell you that you are the only person he’ll ever need or want. he would tell you that he loves you. he would ignore the things you said about leaving and make you stay. make you see that you were his world. 

if seungkwan was stronger, he would stand there and forgive you for all the times you couldn’t give him your all. he would forgive you for ghosting him occasionally. he would forgive you for breaking his heart. 

but seungkwan, wasn’t strong enough to do that. he was upset that you could walk away. he was upset that you were crying about this. he was upset that he couldn’t do anything about it. his facade was in shambles, and his world was crumbling around him. 

instead of standing up and protesting anymore, he shut his mouth and bowed his head. tears were dotting the floor as he heard you make your way to the door. “i’m sorry, seungkwan. i love you,” you whispered.

he heard.

“i love you too,” he said as the door clicked shut.

choi vernon 어느 날 우연히 마주치면그�� 우연이 아닐지 몰라 “if we meet by chance one day, maybe it’s not a coincidence” - one day by chance by ailee

“you have to meet him!” your friend giggled. “he’s so your type!”

“type? and what would that be exactly?” you entertained the notion. 

“im not sure, but he’s for sure your type!” you rolled your eyes. you hadn’t dated anyone since high school, and even then it wasn’t that serious. “and what if he isn’t my so-called type?” you questioned.

“then you get to hang out with me at an awesome party,” she stated.

you didn’t even like going to parties, but you only went to entertain her (and to be her ride home). when you finally arrived at the party she slipped way saying that she was off to find the guy. you sighed and made your way the kitchen to find the bottled water. it was most likely going to be a long night and you were-

“oh hey, sorry,” the guy you just bumped shoulders with apologized instantly.  

“no worries, i wasn’t watching-” you paused. “- where i was going.”

“___.”

“vernon.” 

“there you are! oh! look you found him before i did!” your friend exclaimed a cup already in her hand. 

right. this was the only person in high school that you had a relationship with and thought it was mildly serious. “you were looking for me?” he cocked an eyebrow at you.

“no.”

“yes! i think ___ is just your type!” you friend practically screeched. 

“is that so?”

“i’m afraid not. i’ll be outside,” you grumbled to your now confused friend as you walked out the back door. you heard your friend calling after you, but you couldn’t be bothered. it wasn’t like you held a grudge towards vernon, but he was the first guy to break your heart. you knew it was just a stupid high school relationship, but there was something about him. something that was so charmingly awkward that you couldn’t help but enjoy his lame jokes and not as lame music tastes. you didn’t even announce to your friends that you were dating, you didn’t really announce it to yourselves either. it just started. and it just sort of ended. maybe the reason it hurt so much to see him here was simply because there wasn’t any screaming or crying or fighting when it all ended. just zero effort or care was behind the ending.

then something just happened and the two of you just stopped hanging out as much. you knew you couldn’t completely blame it on him. he started hanging out with a different crowd, as did you. and suddenly, it wasn’t. the breakup was as quiet as the get together. but it didn’t hurt any less to see him with his arm around someone else at lunch. 

after high school you tried your best to move as far away from your hometown. you largely succeeded. new friends, new places, new experiences. you had it all while avoiding any contact from your previous life. but there was always that thought lurking in the back of your mind about what could’ve been. 

it was just a stupid high school thing. then why was your heart beating so much?

you were too lost in thought to notice that vernon had joined you on the porch. “long time no see,” he said, taking a drink from his cup. you scoffed, but not so much in an unfriendly way. just a “that was such a you thing to say” scoff. he laughed taking a sip of his drink. and there you sat in silence. it was comfortable until it wasn’t. 

“why’d we stop talking,” you asked suddenly. he shrugged. “not an answer, vernon,” you groaned. 

“we grew a part, i guess.” the conversation topic obviously irked him. it was weird, because you had dreamt of this moment for as long as you could remember. reuniting with your high school boyfriend. it seemed far fetched, yet here you were. you were never one to believe in that metaphysical stuff, but maybe this meant something. maybe this was the universe saying something. no. it couldn’t. it was too good to be true. 

“did you feel anything for me? i mean, back then at least,” you asked finally. 

“yes,” he said, with a sort of certainty that scared you. 

“okay, good.” you turned and you were about to go back inside as you muttered to yourself, “at least now i can move on.”

“what if i don’t want you to?” he called.

“excuse me?” you turned on your heel to stare at him.

“what if i don’t want you to move on?” he repeated. 

“then you should’ve tried.”

lee chan “got to get it in my head, i'll never be 16 again. i'm waiting to live, and waiting to love” - when by dodie

some things never lasted, and that was a tough pill to swallow. an especially tough one for chan. he moved away, but he had his phone and your number (and address if he needed to resort to letters). there shouldn’t have been a problem. he promised he’d call or text at least once a day, as did you.

and for a while. it worked. things were just the same as they were. almost as if he had never even left. 

yet as time passed, he wasn’t expecting to be so busy with his new neighborhood, school, and friends. so, he forgot to text and call quite often actually. just sporadic texts for holidays, funny things, “hellos” and “goodnights.” nothing like what you two were like before. and soon, that became the new normal - for the next four years. 

that is until one day when he suddenly remembered the deal the two of you had. he felt guilty. every day turned into every two weeks to once every month, and even less frequent than that. he had promised you the bare minimum, after all, you two were best friends. 

however, when he looked at your contact and messages, he realized that you never reached out that much either. just the same “happy winter break!” or “aren’t you so glad summer break is here?” or “we should visit each other soon.” those plans never came to be. 

maybe if he had just told you how he felt before he left, the remnants of your relationship wouldn’t be in such shambles. you would have a reason to text and call him. you would have a reason to come and see him and vice versa. except, he didn’t. you two were better off as friends anyway.

and he thoroughly believed that himself. he really believed it when it was the summer and he wanted to visit his grandparents who happened to live a little outside your childhood town. he still loved you even if he couldn’t call you every day to show it. who knows, maybe he could pass through, see you, and finally get to tell you how he felt after all these years. just because you guys didn’t talk as much didn’t mean things would be awkward or weird, right? and it definitely wouldn’t be weird if he just confessed his feelings he had been harboring for you since the seventh grade, right? the feelings he concealed and tucked away just in case you didn’t feel the same. the feelings he didn’t want to risk a friendship over. the feelings that still made him dream of you. 

so as he drove through his small hometown he parked along the street where the two of you would walk and window shop. he got out and strolled around greeting some of the older store owners who “oohed” and “ahhed” at him. he was finishing up his conversation with the baker when he heard it. 

the undeniable sound of sunshine. the laugh he grew accustomed to throughout your entire elementary and middle school years. he bid farewell, and went searching for it. he walked down the street and looked for it, for you. then he came to the end of the sidewalk and saw you. you were sitting on a bench with some ice cream. you looked beautiful. your eyes bright and smile wide. so bright and wide that he almost missed the guy who was wrapping you up in his arms and kissing your forehead. 

oh. 

so things did change. chan didn’t recognize the guy, but he knew this guy was more than a friend. his heart was sinking to the bottom of his stomach. and it sunk even further when he realize he needed to walk right by you to get to his car. 

shit. 

just tear off the band-aid fast. maybe you wouldn’t recognize him. maybe you would be too immersed in the conversation you were having the guy to notice. he didn’t know what he would say to you. confessing wasn’t exactly appropriate now, not that it ever was. would he be awkward? oh please don’t be awkward, he pleaded with himself. 

so he just went. he just walked. looked around at his surroundings. acted nonchalant. he was the closest to you he’d been in years, and he couldn’t even bring himself to wave at you, let alone look you in the eye. he ducked his head when he got closer to passing the bench where you sat. he kept his eyes to the ground and successfully made it past your table. there was approximately five beats of his heart when it dropped again. “chan? is that you?” you called after him, he heard you get up from the bench. he looked over his shoulder slightly, but he couldn’t bring himself to fully turn around. you stood in the middle of the sidewalk, ice cream melting down your hand, and your presumed boyfriend staying off to the side. he turned back around to keep walking to his car. “god, chan!” you shouted. “get back here! why didn’t you tell me you were going to be in town?”

“sorry, i- i have to get to my grandparents’ place by dinner. it was nice running into you, ___,” he mumbled, blinking his eyes to stop the tears from falling. 

“chan, come on, it’ll be quick.” you were getting closer to him. he couldn’t let that happen.

“no, ___. i can’t. i have to go.” i don’t know what i was thinking. “i’m sorry. just text me or something.” 

he really should’ve told you how he felt when he was sixteen.

min | mmmm sad foolish people in love.... i wanted to do one with ceilings but i already did doomsday so i didn’t want to go overboard with lizzy... it’s been a while since i wrote angst ALKDJ leave so feedback in the comments or in the tags (they’re all greatly appreciated) not proofread 

[sgiandubh]

As usual you to try connect things that have nothing to with Sam and Cait to prove your fantasy. You have zero direct evidence proving relationship, marriage, children with Sam and Cait. ZERO. You are also admitting if people on screen are involved they are terrible actors. Give it up. As Sam again is off on vacation alone next week, beginning traveling for the next 8 weeks alone for various appointments which have nothing to do with Cait

Dear (returning, I suppose) Beauchamp and Fraser Anon,

Unlike other people in this fandom, I do not need to invent aggressive Anons: you provide the material almost on a daily basis, using the same old, same tired arguments. A very primitive harassment technique, indeed, that pushed many reasonable people in the shadows.

Because this is what y'all want. One of yours had the courage and honesty to write it down, just because a fencer (who should have known better) went on to engage with your faction. She got this response:

Note I did not publish the handle of the person who wrote this. I am only discussing people when prompted or when necessary. I usually discuss problems - and this is a big problem.

In other words, 'believe what you want, but verboten to write or discuss or even question'. I think it says a lot about your degree of tolerance and your democratic values. Or lack thereof.

I did not connect anything. I simply posted something and left it on the table for debate.

And now you invite me to 'give it up'. Because I piss off many, many people on both sides of the Great Divide and I am perfectly aware of it. Exactly what you want me to do, of course. Exactly what I am not going to do, Anon.

So, for the last time:

What really pisses you off is that I always did things my own way. Refused to post funeral pics. Refused to endlessly discuss the number of children S and C might have. Refused to disclose (completely against it) and discuss (unless absolutely necessary to do so) legal documents your side always ends up by revealing one way or another. And you do so usually via Anons, because you have no clue of what they really mean and you think you know (and you don't). Oh, and lest I forget: refused to judge C's attitude or behavior towards this fandom. Because Anon, I honestly don't know how I would react (if I were her) with all the bullshit you managed to ventilate their way and/or the brutal pressure under which she is living her life.

For all these reasons and then some more, you have decided I have to leave this fandom. Because this page, notwithstanding its mistakes, annoys the crap out of you. Because it strives to bring up reasonable dialogue, not circular discourse. Because it took upon itself to answer your insults: usually with irony, something that somehow escaped you. Because it managed to prove that when you deal politely with likeminded people, differences between factions of the same community can be put, if only for five minutes, aside. Because it also brought (or tried to) a new, no nonsense perspective informed by who I am and what I do. And because it is read on a daily basis by people who began to feel encouraged and valued simply for who they are: kind people, sharing a similar point of view of a given situation.

So guess what, Anon? I am not going anywhere.

Live with it. I can live with the daily dose, for sure.

I am also absolutely impressed by the illiterate confidence (I am sick and tired to correct your bad grammar and spelling) with which you suggest to be in the know of S's travel agenda or C's whereabouts. I should also hope someone, somewhere, financially rewards your efforts: if not, maybe you should ask them for a raise, or something. You surely are a very, very dedicated troll.

[astriiformes]

hiii! im a 17 y/o applying to college, but i have no idea what i want to major in/do with my life. im interested in math and science but also history and stuff. any advice?

Oh I am. An interesting person to ask this question considering I have changed my major multiple times (partly due to switching schools) and am now doing something a bit weird.

I suppose the first thing to mention is if you really aren't sure what you want to do in the future, there are options other than college and there's no shame in taking a gap year or two in order to figure out if it's actually the path you want to take. However! It sounds a bit like you are at least interested in the idea of college, and also that's where my own experience lies, so I'll offer what I can. Just definitely keep in mind there are other routes, if it doesn't end up fitting.

Honestly my biggest piece of advice to anyone looking at colleges is to dig into what actual courses are offered at the schools you're looking at. The same degree at one school can vary significantly from ones at another school, and getting some idea of if the specific classes that are a part of a given program are interesting to you can prevent a lot of heartache in the long run. I did not do this with the first college I attended, and found out the hard way that their program was really heavy on classes that I was less interested in and struggled with more. Which was frustrating.

As for narrowing down what you specifically want to major in, keep in mind that you don't necessarily have to. Like, you do have to pick a program, but interdisciplinary degrees and even build-your-own degrees like the one I'm currently doing are becoming increasingly popular, and there are ways to spin having disparate interests into something unique where you can really succeed.

When I started college, at my first university, I was doing a general Biology degree. Then I transferred to a school where you could pick slightly different concentrations in Biology, and did part of a degree in Biology, but with a concentration in Ecology and Evolutionary Biology. Then I took a break for about four years, because college was not working for me. When I picked it up again, at yet another school, I started with an interdisciplinary degree in Biology, Society, and Environment--still fairly Biology-heavy, but with an added focus in the humanities surrounding science . Eventually I abandoned the framework of structured degrees entirely, and am now finishing college doing a Bachelor's of Individualized Studies, which is a degree program my school offers where you essentially pick three minors and build your own degree out of them. (Mine are Biology, History of Science, and Cultural Studies & Comparative Literatures)

I hope that illustrates a couple things. One--you are not locked in to your first choice, and in fact may figure out what you want to do partly by dabbling in some other things first. And two--there are lots of different flavors of studying even some of the same subjects that vary from degree to degree and school to school. Look into some of the weirder options that are out there that might let you combine multiple passions for sure!

If you're specifically interested in a degree that blends the sciences and the humanities, some keywords that might be useful to you are looking up schools with programs in Science and Technology Studies (or STS), History of Science, or Philosophy of Science programs. Even if they don't offer Bachelor's in them (sometimes those are restricted to grad degrees), they may offer minors or concentration options, or be something you could work into an individualized degree if your school has a program for those, and at the very least may have classes you could take in those subjects even if you have to do a slightly different degree to dabble in them.

Best of luck with your searching and applications! I hope all this rambling can at least be of some use to you.

[mvrd3rf4c3]

Now I know that this post won't be about the usual stuff that I usually post. It's gonna be a bit more serious and I would like to know if you guys have any other opinions about that. It’s about the Psychonaut 4 allegations, specifically about their lead singer, Graf Von Baphomet.

Now the first thing that I would like to talk about was when Graf sent multiple female fans innapropriate pictures, one of them being a minor. When he found out that she was a minor, he deleted the photos. Although I agree with the fact that it's still considered sexual assault, he at least deleted them. (And like I mentioned, he didn't even know that she was a minor). So you at least gotta respect him for that.

Now the second one that I would like to talk about was when two girls that he gave fentanil to died of OD. He was arrested for and now in prison for second degree murder. Now, in my opinion, the fact that it was put as second degree murder is complete bullshit. If you give someone drugs, they know they are not supposed to take too much, especially with stronger ones. (even a twelve year old knows that, but we are talking about 2 grown women). Now, I don't want to seem like an asshole saying that it was the victim's fault (which I am not) but I was just pointing that out. Maybe they didn't know how much was too much, that's completely understandable. But still, just because you give drugs to two people doesn’t mean you murdered them. Because after all, they (Graf and the 2 girls) were taking them together. It’s not like Graf forcefully drugged them for it to be considered as murder.

And the third and last one (which is "the least" worrying one) was when he was arrested for possesion of alpha pyrrolidinopentiophenone (also known as flakka or gravel). Now, this one I somewhat agree with. You're caught with drugs, you pay the price. And I don't understand why some people were surprised (from what I saw). He's a drug addict that has tried to get sober multiple times, but to no avail. Of course he was gonna get caught with drugs at some point.

Now this is the reason why I am mad.

Psychonaut 4 got me thru so many things. I cannot even begin to explain how much their music touched me and influenced me. They are the first band that got me into dsbm. They are the band that I listen to the most (along with KD, Megadeth, Mercyful Fate and The Johns) and it will remain that way for a while. I can't even put my anger into words. Some people really have no shame, do they? Some people have no idea what depression can look like. They have no idea wat self harm can look like. They have no idea what addiction can look like and what it can do to affect a person. Addiction can swallow you whole (I know because I used to have a caffeine addiction and now I am starting to go back to it along with an alcohol addiction) and no matter how much help you get, if you don’t have the right people with you and something bad happens, you will fall right back in. And some motherfuckers have the nerve to talk about it when they don't know how it's like? That's just disrespect. No matter what said person did, if they are addicted to something, especially drugs, they don't need criticism. That's just gonna make things worse. They need help to get back on their feet. And in Graf's case, he tried to get sober millions of times before, but it never worked. And the people that criticise him are still surprised that he relapses all the time? No shit he relapses. If someone gets sober they don't need to hear people criticising something of the past. It’s like they want him to remain an addict and it's honestly disgusting.

I am mostly talking about the way I saw someone on tik tok talk about these situations. I am not gonna put their name because I don't really wanna start beef with this person so I will just leave it at that.

I you guys have any other opinions about the situation I would live to hear them.

[tapwater118]

The Post-Split Rant, part 3

a.k.a.: Grown Woman really should have finished this like 3 weeks ago give me a break

Part 1 | Part 2

yes i did just section the parts out like this just for the visual gag shut up

BFB Post-Split is my least favorite season, so now I’m gonna wrap up my whinging about it and move on with my life. These are my opinions, you’re free to disagree, bluh bluh bluh let’s just get on with it already.

BFB 28

Okay, I said I would talk about the eliminated contestants here, but I remember them doing more in this episode than they actually did for some reason. I guess I’ll get to them in BFB 29 I suppose.

Anyway the Announcer is back! Announcer’s actually my favorite host out of all the seasons (sorry Four), so when I watched this the first time I remember being really stoked to see him again. And I am glad to say they did him very nicely! He still has his slightly snarky demeanor (in spite of his monotone TTS voice), and is overall used in a very interesting way here. I’ll get more into it later, but it is very clear they didn’t just bring him back for nostalgia points, which I appreciate.

For an “all-in-one” challenge, this episode did it a lot better than BFDI 23, dare I say. Instead of spending a bit too long on the first few challenges and speeding by the rest, they spend time just on the challenges that they can get good bits out of and briskly walk past the others. I feel this approach works a lot better than BFDI 23.

Honestly, pretty nice episode. No real issues here. Not as good as BFB 20 or 26 I’d say, but a good deal better than BFB 22. Moving on.

BFB 29

They said it was impossible. They said it couldn’t be done. Post-Split actually has a second good Taco and Blocky interaction. They’re having an actual conversation! With witty banter and such!What is this wizardry? Why couldn’t we have more like this?

Not related to anything else really but I have to get this out. I find the over abundance of nicknames in Post-Split to be kind of grating at times but NOTHING grinds my gears as much as the stupid “blank”-ster nicknames. “Tacster” “Blockster” “Teadster” SHUT UUUUUUUPPPPPP. They’re just fine in isolation but they use them SO FREQUENTLY I HATE IT. Gelatin uses these the most and I honestly think it’s lessened my opinion of him to a non-negligible degree. Leafster is the only one that gets a past the rest suck so much shit.

Ok sub-rant over. Back on topic.

The whole, well not really backstory… interstory(?) they give Announcer here is very neat, I like it. Really adds a lot of depth to his character. Whoa, Post-Split just had compelling character development. I think I need to sit down. I guess I’ll also add here that it’s nice Taco has something to do other than whinge at Blocky. I mean, there’s a handful of other characters just kinda sitting around that they could also have investigating the Announcer, but I feel Taco fits this role the best (out of the characters available to do so).

The quality-downgrading bit near the end is also fun too- okay enough beating around the bush. I’ll talk about it here because I already have enough to say about BFB 30 on its own; they pretty obviously set Flower up to win. Having her be repeatedly ignored and tortured for those sympathy points, and then having her be the one to save the show to cap it all off.

I voted for Flower to win, and even if they didn’t set her up like this I still would have. She’s one of the few characters in all of BFDI that actually has a serious degree of character-growth throughout the series, from being the prototypical “mean for the sake of it” character in season 1 to having genuine compassion for those she cares about by the end of BFB. Gelatin doesn’t have any of this, and if I can be candid, I have no clue how he got so far in the season.

BFB 29 is good overall, but let’s not dwell on it any longer. The real meat and potatoes of this part of the rant is going to deal with the final episode, one I have so many thoughts on I have to split it into multiple segments. Let’s talk about BFB 30.

Smaller Thoughts on BFB 30

The scenes with the fake seasons add a lot to Four’s character, and are a nice lead in to the fact that he’s actually a huge BFDI fan who really just wanted to be in that show he really loves. Judging by his actions in the early days of BFB it’s obvious this was a rather late addition to his character, but his cruelty to the objects could likely be interpreted as just a culture difference between Algebraliens and objects. I could make a whole separate analysis about this, but right now I’ll just leave it that these aspects of Four’s character are rather interesting.

This is going to be really nitpicky, but I have no clue why Bubble would want Gelatin to win. He’s been nothing but horrible to her the entirety of Post-Split. Maybe you could say the same for Flower’s behavior towards her both here and in season 1, but in that case have her indecisive over her vote, not overly enthusiastic. This choice makes no sense. (Can you tell that Bubble is one of those characters I care way too much over how they’re written?)

Gotta say, very nice how they have Firey reflecting on his actions without outside prompting here, good sign of character development. Now if only they could have had him say something to this effect eight episodes ago… sigh…

From here the episode splits into two plots that it jumps between repeatedly. Going through every scene in the order they happen would start to get confusing, so I’ve given them their own sections. Gonna be honest, not really a fan of how either of these went. Let’s start with the better of the two.

Flower and the Battle for the BFDI

So, Flower and the Announcer start fighting over who should get the BFDI, and Purple Face comes out of nowhere to steal it for himself. They get in the bus, a bunch of other people give some silly reasons why they should have the BFDI, and then the bus is dangling off a cliff. Everyone hops out except those still fighting over the BFDI: Flower, the Announcer, and Purple Face.

Purple Face does not need to be here.

Flower wants the BFDI because she won, it’s her rightful prize, very valid. Announcer wants the BFDI because it’s his life’s work and, as he reveals here, the only remaining copy of that work, very valid.

Purple Face wants the BFDI just because he thinks he deserves it. His reason for wanting it is just as stupid as all the reasons the other characters (who aren’t Flower or the Announcer) gave for wanting it, and those were all treated as jokes. Hell, Firey (and by extension Leafy) DEFINITELY had a better reason for wanting the damn thing.

Why are we supposed to be taking this seriously? Purple Face has been nothing but a joke character the entire season, and now they suddenly want people to feel bad for him. So much of this scene is dedicated to him over Flower and the Announcer, the two this scene should have been focused on.

Time to get to the much weaker of the two plots.

Gelatin Helps Four Find Out His Value

Okay, I’m about to be way too overly negative, so let’s have something positive for a breather. “Choo Choo! Think again, Balloon Buddy!” is one of the best jokes in the entire series. I will not elaborate.

So, Four starts to run away, and all the characters who didn’t go after Purple Face (except Profily) chase after him. After a bit, they all end up on the sun, and a character gives a speech about how they’re all mad at Four, how he’s hurt them and been mean to them throughout the entire season, and he still expects them to all stick around for him?

Pretty nice speech, I wonder which character gives it?

Maybe Bubble? She’s constantly going under ire and has had to take a lot of shit this season.

Or maybe Flower! Maybe she could reflect on when she was a bad person, and how she turned around to better herself, and try to impart the things she learned onto Four.

Perhaps X! They’re Four’s best friend, and have certainly been hurt by him throughout this season. Maybe he could show Four sympathy for the objects? This is probably the best option, because of how close these characters are.

But no, none of these characters make this speech.

Gelatin makes this speech.

Gelatin.

Motherfucking Gelatin.

MOTHERFUCKING. FORK-FLINGING. PEOPLE-PUSHING. BOMBY-EXPLODING. GELATIN.

Gelatin is the last character who should be giving a speech about how being mean to people is bad. HE IS A GODDAMN MENACE! HAVING HIM SAY THIS MAKES HIM INTO A GIANT HYPOCRITE!

And then they play a montage on the BFB to show how fun this season actually was, and convince Four that they all really do like him. Am I the only one that thinks Four got off a little scot-free for the whole murdering and tormenting his contestants thing?

Whatever, let’s take a look at the supposedly “fun” moments of BFB that they want to give Four credit for:

Flower getting excited for like a second that she didn’t get eliminated, before running off in embarrassment because she tried to celebrate with the contestant who actually did get eliminated

A scene mere moments before Four despawns X again

A bunch of people playing with the popper toys, something that had no involvement from Four and likely would have happened regardless of his presence

A scene mere moments before Leafy painfully burns to death

Gelatin’s fork stack, which definitely didn’t involve Four because it happened before they showed up

The boring-ass train ride from BFB 21

Four’s almost-four-way-tie song, which I guess gets a pass

Aside from the last one maybe, how is ANY of this meant so show how much fun the cast has had with Four? And to top it all off the most unfitting piano music plays over the whole thing. Absolute dumpster fire of a montage.

Ending Thoughts on BFB 30

Everyone gets together to have a party and all is well in the world. Except for those 50000 dead Davids in Davidland. A shame, really. (that was a joke)

Wow, this best friends line sure aged well, didn’t it, Teardrop? (Actually thinking about it now they probably planned for Teardrop to join TPOT by this point. So why include this line when they already knew one of his best friends ditched him?)

This line is really corny. But also kinda charming? Weird. I guess all she really wanted in the end was friends, and now she has them! Good for her.

And you know, if I ignore how much I dislike how Post-Split reconciled Firey and Leafy, this scene is really cute. Very nice note to end on.

For the episode, that is. We still have stuff to talk about here.

So, about BFB 30 as a whole. Do I think it’s a good BFDI episode? Yeah, I guess. I have my problems with it (as I have more than made clear), but it still has a lot of laughs, and things conclude in a halfway decent way. So yeah, it’s a good episode.

But is it a good finale? I don’t think so. This is supposed to be BFB’s last hurrah, its final impact on the viewers. It should be putting its best foot forward here, but it drops the ball on so many things I can’t in good conscience say it was a satisfying conclusion to the season.

I just hope TPOT handles its finale a lot better.

Post-Split as a Whole

Welp, that certainly was a ride. Time for some closing thoughts.

While it might seem like I dislike characters like Gelatin from what I’ve said in this rant, I really don’t. I like these characters in the other seasons they’re in! Post-Split just kinda doesn’t do all that great with them.

Additionally, I don’t hate Post-Split either. I don’t love it, though. It’s just okay. It has some high highs, and some pretty deep lows. It has a lot of little things (and some major ones) that all together keep me from loving it like I do all the other seasons.

I’ve seen some people say the Split was the nail in the coffin for BFB, that there was no way Post-Split could have lived up to what came before. I don’t share this opinion. Episodes like BFB 20 and 26 (and to a lesser extent, 28 and 29, and to an even lesser extent, 22) show to me that Post-Split could have been something special.

So what happened? Why did Post-Split turn out the way it did?

I don’t know. I’m not here to do any meta-analysis or anything.

I’m just here to rant.

And rant I have.