#and even as an adult i still encounter people who talk over me and make me feel like i'm not allowed to be outspoken | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spacelazarwolf · 2 years

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actually yeah i would like to talk about how other queer people specifically were the reason it took me so long to come out as a gay trans man

(this is really fucking long, but especially if you’re not a trans man or trans masc, i’d like you to read it all the way through.)

as a preface, i’m not a kid. i’m a fully fledged adult who has been in the queer community for about ten years now, both online and offline. most of the queer people i know irl are my age or older. i turn 30 next year. also before you use the words ‘chronically online’, consider the fact that the things people say online are what they actually believe and will take out into the world with them.

anyway.

when i try to talk about transphobia directed at trans men and mascs from within the queer community, or lateral aggression from trans people who are not trans men or trans mascs (this is not just trans women and femmes, this includes any trans people who aren’t trans men or mascs. i have heard some vile shit out of the mouths of other ‘afab’* trans people), people often respond with “but cishets are the real enemy!!! they’re the ones causing all the actual damage and oppression!!!!!” and while i get the sentiment, that is where you’re wrong my friend. the thing causing my oppression isn’t cishets, it’s the cisheteropatriarchy. cishets tend to be the ones that chug that koolaid most readily, but queer people, even other trans people, have gleefully gulped down gallons of the stuff, and that specifically is what made it so difficult for me to accept myself and come out.

*i fucking hate the term ‘afab’ but this post is already so goddamn long

when i first entered the lgbtq community, it was on facebook in the early 2010′s. before that, i’d been stuck in a conservative small town and didn’t even know that not being a girl was an option. so obviously when i encountered a bunch of people that were like me, i was ecstatic and wanted to be a part of their community. because i still thought i was a girl at the time, i was immediately funneled into sapphic spaces. for the most part, they were great and lovely, i just felt left out because i couldn’t relate to the way they talked about their love of women. but i knew i was some sort of fruity, which meant clearly i was just repressing my attraction to women, so i needed to try harder to like women. some of this came from the things i’d heard in those groups, but a lot of it was just pressure from myself to deal with a reality that didn’t make sense.

the longer i spent in those groups, though, the more i ran into rhetoric like ‘men are inherently incapable of love and respect, it is impossible to be in a truly fulfilling relationship with a man’ and ‘masculinity is inherently evil and femininity is inherently good.’ some people tried to have nuance, but a lot, especially cis women, didn’t. in those groups, people were mocked for being in relationships with men, they were told that if they had a boyfriend they weren’t even allowed to mention it in the group because the group needed to be a ‘space completely free of men’, people were told that if they were being abused by a man then it was their fault because they should have been dating a woman instead, they should have known better. i was one of those people who was blamed for my own abuse.

as i started to realize that shit maybe i’m not a girl, there was a lot of pressure for me to make sure that i always stayed within the confines of ‘non man.’ because the second i slid over that line, it was over. i was lost. does that rhetoric sound familiar? it’s terf rhetoric, and the irony is that all of these spaces explicitly condemned terfs.

i was in a group for ‘non men’ and when people in the group came out as trans men, they were asked to leave. the network of groups that this one was connected to was of the mindset that trans men oppressed all nonmen, including cis women. the reasoning given was ‘it would be misgendering!!!!!!!’ but behind closed internet doors, the actual reasons were very clear. on a scale of ‘oppressed’ to ‘privileged’ it went trans women -> cis women -> trans men -> cis men, with nonbinary people being inserted into whatever category was most convenient for argument’s sake.

after that, i stuffed my doubts down for years, terrified of crossing that horrible threshold from ‘nonman’ to ‘man.’ even now, i still cling to the term ‘nonbinary’ because it makes other queer people view me as a more complex person. as soon as i started tentatively using the word ‘man’ to describe myself without all the disclaimers of ‘but don’t worry i’m not actually a man!!!!! i’m still a person!!!!!!!’, the way people interacted with me changed drastically.

i was the exact same person, still non-passing, still gender noncomforming, still someone with a very complex relationship to gender because of my sexuality and being autistic, but because that word ‘man’ was there, suddenly people felt they had the right to silence me and speak over me. cis women who were being blatantly transphobic dismissed me saying ‘i don’t argue with men’, queer people dismissed me saying ‘stop mansplaining’ and telling me that regardless of my presentation, regardless of how i was treated out in the world, i was still privileged because i identified with the label of ‘man.’

i made a video on tik tok about how traumatic it was to come to terms with being a man as someone who has been hurt by cis men, and an old mutual of mine started tagging me in cis men’s videos about unlearning toxic masculinity, telling me i needed to watch myself if i was going to be a man. another mutual also shared in that trauma, and theirs was exacerbated by a racial element. i tried to make more videos about my experiences, documented by journey with top surgery, but as soon as i started speaking loudly about including trans men and mascs in the fight for abortion rights, everything went downhill.

terfs started to find my account and get my videos taken down. queer cis women claimed i was ‘silencing women’ and used the ‘trans man’ in my bio to claim ‘mansplaining’ despite the fact i am nonpassing and the world sees me as a woman. a trans femme stitched one of my videos to chide me for saying that repealing roe v wade affected trans men and mascs, because i should have been talking about how it affected trans women and femmes and the rest of the queer community, not ‘centering men.’ a trans woman commented on their post in my defense, and they deleted her comment. after that, cis women reported by account by the dozens and i was eventually banned.

that’s when i realized, men hadn’t caused me trauma. the cisheteropatriarchy had caused me trauma. the system that had allowed my abusive ex to treat me the way he did, that allowed my friends to watch and say nothing, that allowed a woman who was a bystander in a public domestic violence incident to complain to us that we were ruining her day at the mall and threatening to call the police on both of us rather than standing up for someone who was literally publicly being physically attacked. the system that allowed cis women to say, quite literally, that because trans men and mascs were a numerical minority of the people who would be affected by the repealing of roe v wade that we shouldn’t be in the spotlight, that cis women should be centered, that it was somehow ‘misogyny’ to point out that anti-abortion laws quite literally would affect trans men and mascs more severely and in more ways than cis women.

women and other queer people may not have been the ones hitting me or writing these bills, but for years they were the ones telling me my abuse was my fault, that i was morally incorrect for being a man, that i could never love or be loved if i was a man, that i should sit down and shut up, regardless of how much my community was hurting and dying. that i would always be an afterthought, if even.

i think very often about two tik toks i saw of a trans masc person talking about transition, and one said “you spend the first half of your life being subjugated by the sins of men, then you transition and you spend the rest of your life paying for the sins of men” and the other commented about another user’s video saying “a beard, facial hair, stands in the way of this person being perceived as innocent and being perceived as capable of roofieing your drink.”

and i realized that’s part of why i’m terrified to go on t. completely separate from the fact that i have a career which relies on my voice so going on t would absolutely nuke that, i have already experienced so much aggression and isolation based on just identifying as a man. i cannot even begin to imagine how much worse it would get if i started to look ‘like a man.’ i have lamented the fact that i’m forced to lose my softness, whether i want to or not, that the very community that wants to break down barriers and liberate people are the ones who are forcing me into a box for the sake of convenience in online arguments.

and people can mock me and go on about ‘toxic masculinity’ all they want, but this is a hard truth about the community that we really need to start talking about, because i have absolutely no doubt that experiences like mine are what contributes to trans men and masc’s astronomically high rates of suicide, self harm, depression, anxiety, eating disorders, etc.

i feel more like myself than i ever have in my life. and i also feel more isolated than i ever have in my life. there was a moment where things finally clicked for me, and for a fraction of a second i was so excited. i wanted to share my revelation with my community and be celebrated. but then i thought back about the way people had talked about men, trans men, masculinity, loving men, and that little tiny moment of celebration was brought to a screeching halt. i realized that every other time i’d seen a gay trans man or masc come out and talk about their gender and sexuality, the responses had been peppered with ‘sorry for ur loss’, ‘ew lol’, ‘so u chose to become a man?????’, ‘omg u have to date men and be a man????? i feel sorry for u lmao.’

and now as i delve into the dating pool as a gay trans man, i see that all this online bullshit isn’t just ‘chronically online,’ it’s manifested in real life too. the way queer trans men and mascs are treated as entitled for wanting to date cis queer men, the way people respond if we say we’re unhappy with just being a hookup or a fling because we should be happy anyone wanted us in the first place. the way we’re treated as fetishizers and freaks, the way people specifically search through the ‘ftm’ tag on grindr looking for ‘sissy boys/femme bottoms/etc’ then get angry when you don’t respond to them. the way other queer people respond to you when you try to talk about this. the way trans men and mascs who can’t go on t are treated as less than men but also aren’t allowed to talk about their experience of someone perceived as ‘less than men’, the way testosterone is spoken about in queer communities as a poison, as something that makes you ugly and disfigured and gross and dirty when for so many of us it’s literally lifesaving medical treatment. the way we can’t talk about the things we go through without random cis people dragging trans women and femmes into it when, even though there are some concerning trends of lateral violence that need to be discussed, most of the aggression comes from cis queer women.

so when trans men make posts or host events or just do anything to celebrate trans manhood and masculinity, and your first reaction is to make fun of us, project your frustration with the cisheteropatriarchy, or respond with “we don’t need positivity for men”, i want you to think about the number of trans men and mascs who kill ourselves, and i want you to think “maybe i should not say this, maybe i should just do this one thing to make life a little easier for them, even if i don’t get it.”

#trans #transgender #trans man #trans masc #queer #trans community #queer community #lgbtq #transphobia #transandrophobia #transmisandry #antimasculism #it does not fucking matter what we call it #what matters is that it's killing us and y'all don't want to acknowledge it

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somekindofpoet · 1 year

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Like A Movie Part IX

Summary: Reader deals with big feelings and the movie is wrapped

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: This feels like the natural end to this one, but I will probably write little one shot extensions on it in the future. All good things must end! There are several time jumps in this chapter, hopefully they make sense. If anything seems convoluted please tell me so I can fix it! Send me asks, message me, I love interacting with you guys.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII

To say you didn’t get jealous may have been a slight overstatement on your part. You didn’t generally get jealous in everyday situations. You were a fairly secure person, and Jenna gave you no reason to question your place in her life. In fact, she was overwhelmingly affectionate and reminded you of her feelings often. It was a “sweet little relationship” so to say.

But as the dreaded day of filming drew ever nearer, you began to feel the claws of the green-eyed monster in your gut. You had written five wives for Judas. FIVE. You cursed yourself daily for being such a smut artist. Obviously, you had never intended to be dating the person who would play Judas, but the universe has a funny way of enacting its karma on people. When you wrote the part, you wanted Judas to be a believable cult leader. And those fools always had a plethora of sexual encounters. So five wives it was. It may have even been a conservative take.

Luckily for you, A24 had decided she should only have a sex scene with one wife on screen, the rest would be implied. But that one sex scene was inevitably going to happen, and it was going to happen with your friend. You weren’t sure which would be worse, watching Olivia do it or a complete stranger. You tell yourself it’s fake because it is, but that doesn’t help much. You still feel the sickening vice of greediness in your belly, an unwillingness to share.

You don’t share these feelings with Jenna. You’re nervous it’ll rattle the skeletons in her closet and send her running for the hills. Your pride doesn’t allow you to tell Olivia, because that would mean admitting to the silly whims of your irrational feelings. It’s for the same reasons you refrain from telling your other friends, leaving you alone to dwell on how stupid your lizard brain is.

You’re not at your best when left alone with your thoughts, often spiraling into a vicious cycle of what-ifs. Dealing with the jealousy was the beginning; questioning whether your relationship with Jenna was only built on the excitement of making Secessus was the end result.

You’re sitting on your couch the morning of filming “The Dreaded Scene”, fighting yourself in a battle you can’t win. Jealousy has curdled in your stomach and turned into doubt. You drop your head into your hands, trying to talk yourself out of the mood you had put yourself in. But all you can think is what if? What if after filming wraps, Jenna realizes you’re terribly boring? What if the movie is a flop? What if the excitement dies down and you can’t sell another script? What if? What if? What if?

Your phone vibrates on the table, and you drag your hands down your face. It’s Jenna, she’d been texting you for over an hour, and you have yet to reply to her. You’re not upset with her at all, you’re scared that if she talks to you, she will know what you’re feeling. Over the months of knowing her, and the months of filming, she had learned you like the back of her hand. Sometimes she knew you better than you knew yourself. That fact brought you some comfort because if she knew you so well and still liked you, then she would like you after the movie was done. But that voice was much quieter than the one that said she would grow bored of you.

You sigh and pick up the phone, unwilling to force her to wait on you any longer. You are a grown ass adult, and you will handle this appropriately! Probably…Most Likely. You shoot her a text telling her you’re on your way to set, and you’ll see her in an hour. You flop back onto your couch, preparing your mind for the rollercoaster of emotions you’d go through that day.

Just as you’re about to get up, there’s a soft knock on your door. You recheck your phone, no messages. You’re beginning to get deja vu, reminded of the day you met Jenna. What a weird and wonderful day that was. You became so lost in thought at the cherished memory you nearly forgot someone was at your door.

You pull yourself off the couch as the person knocks again, yelling, “Yeah I’m comin, I’m comin!”

You open your door, half hoping it would be Jenna in a floppy boonie cap and pitvipers again. But it’s a kid trying to spread the gospel in a white button up and black tie. You look him up and down, then turn back to grab your sunglasses and car keys.

“Not today kid. I’m just leaving.” You tell him, stepping over the threshold and forcing him to retreat from your welcome mat.

“Ma’am, I just wanted to come to tell you-“

“Hey listen, I respect you man. You’re doing something you think is right. But I’m not interested in learning about your lord and savior or whatever.” You say over your shoulder as you lock your door.

The kid frowns at you, “I was coming to tell you your car is getting towed.”

“WHAT?!” You shout, running to the stairs looking for your Mustang.

Sure enough, a tow truck was parked directly behind you, the driver walking back to the cab of his truck. You sprint down the stairs two steps at a time, skidding to a halt as you reach the truck.

“No no no man you can’t take her! I’m right here I’ll move it, this is my child!”

The tow truck driver is old, and tired, and clearly not willing to put up with you. He takes his trucker hat off and runs his fingers through an oily tuft of hair before replacing the hat on his head.

“Look kid, you’re parked in a tow zone. You can come get the car tomorrow afternoon once you pay the fine.”

“If there’s a scratch on her I swear to-“

The man slams his door shut, ignoring you. The tow truck rumbles to a start, and you watch mournfully as your beloved car is taken from you.

You put your hands on your head and pace, at a loss. You needed to be on set NOW, you were already late. And now your baby was being towed away, taken by this big ugly truck to the big ugly impound lot. You had parked in a tow zone last night, thinking you’d go back out after you ran to the bathroom and move it, but with all the shit going on in your head you had completely spaced it. Actions meet consequences.

You text Jenna to tell her you’re not, in fact, on your way and you’re stranded. And you’re sorry for being an idiot who got their car towed. The sweet angel of a human being texted you back almost immediately, solving your problem easily. Phil was around Hollywood, and would come get you momentarily. You thank her and walk to the marking curb to sit down and review the life choices that brought you here.

The kid in the tie made his way down the stairs and walked over to you, eyeing you curiously. You look up at him with a raised eyebrow. He couldn’t be more than 13 maybe 14 if you squinted.

“Where’s your parents kid?”

He points to an apartment on the other side of the U-shaped building, “I live right there with my grandma.”

You frown, looking over to the door he pointed at, “I’ve never seen you before.”

He shrugs, not offering an answer. You shrug back, not really needing one.

“So…do you want to hear about Jesus Christ now?”

“Awh hell kid, seriously no.”

“Hell is where you’ll end up if-“

You laugh, “Boy, do I have news for you.”

By the grace of some holy entity, Phil pulled up before you could educate the kid on your “lifestyle” and the tree he was barking up. You wave the kid off and jump in the car, grateful for Phil’s timing.

“Man you just saved that kid from an education he wasn’t ready for.” You tell him as you settle into the back seat.

Phil doesn’t ask questions, just chuckles and drives off.

———

The set was in a frenzy when you pulled into the parking lot. People were running around crossing each others paths like a haphazardly choreographed dance. The set was almost always full of activity, but people were in more of a frenzy than usual today. You catch the arm of a PA you recognize, pulling her aside.

“Is there a fire I don’t know about?” You ask her.

There is panic in her face at being stopped, and she pulls her arm from you. “The director is NOT in a good mood today.” She says as she hurries off to continue whatever she had been sent to do.

Uh oh. Task one, talk Jenna down. Actually, task one, find Jenna. You stand on your tiptoes, looking for the area that was being avoided the most, knowing that was likely where she’d be. There was a careful path being cut around the trailers, so you make your way through them, figuring you’d check her trailer first. On your way there you bump into one of the other actors, and they silently point you in the direction of the makeup trailer.

Olivia is out front smoking a cigarette in a black robe. Seeing her stokes your anxiety, reminding you of what was on the shooting schedule for the day. She sees you and a visible level of stress leaves her body.

“Oh thank fuck you’re here.”

“That bad?”

She grimaces, “You’ll see.”

You hear before you see. You can hear Jenna’s voice in the trailer. She’s not yelling, but she is very clearly not happy. You hesitate at the door, looking back to Olivia with a fearful frown on your face.

She shakes her head at you, “Oh no, this is your realm my friend. Get your ass in there.”

You gulp and open the door delicately. You’re immediately met with silence. The makeup artists have vacated the premises, the only occupants are Jenna and her assistant. He’s trying to make himself small in the corner and his eyes go wide when you step in. Jenna is pacing the length of the small trailer, so you lean back into the door to let her pass. When she passes you again without speaking, you decide to take mercy on him.

“You should probably head to set Junior.”

He doesn’t dally and practically leaps out of the door when you move away from it. You hear it click shut and meet Jenna in the middle of the trailer, halting her pacing. She allows you to stop her as you pull her into a hug. You know better now than to try to solve her problems for her, and set your attention on what she likely wants.

Her hair and makeup is already done so you’re careful when you separate yourself from her and tilt her chin up. She’s not angry and that surprises you. Everyone was tiptoeing around the trailer like she was a fire breathing dragon, but here she was, clearly vulnerable and upset. You lean down and press a gentle kiss to her lips, which she reciprocates immediately. She grabs the back of your neck, pulling you into her.

Had it not been for your concern about her set makeup, you would have let her do anything she wanted to you right then and there. But there was a schedule to uphold and you were the only one who was going to hold her to it at this point. You pull back from her, rubbing your hands up and down her arms. You still aren’t sure what’s going on, but you have an inkling it has something to do with the very thing you had been freaking out about earlier. In all your self pity you had forgotten that there was a person on the other end of this situation, and that person probably had some strong feelings about it as well.

She closes her eyes and sighs, her posture dropping when she opens them again. She doesn’t make any signs that she’s going to speak, so you do it for her.

“Distraction or discussion?” You ask her.

“I want to say distraction, but we don’t have time.” She replies, her muscles starting to tense up again.

“Okay, discussion then,” you say, your hands still on her arms, “What’s got you all messed up?”

She chews on her bottom lip. You know if she had her rings on she’d be spinning the hell out of them right now, but she’s already in costume so they’re not there for her. She takes in a deep breath and follows it with an onslaught of words.

“I’m worried about the scene today. Olivia is a perfect professional and I am a professional and I know that we are going to crush it. But I…” she pauses and looks you deep in the eye, “Im so afraid it’s going to freak you out. It’s freaking me out. Can we do this? Are we okay doing this? What if-“

You cut her off with another kiss. You’re slightly worried it’ll irritate her, but you’ve decided a half distraction might not be the worst idea. There’s a couch in the corner where Junior had been huddled and you back into it, pulling her with you. You sit down and she climbs into your lap facing you. You kiss her again, her makeup and hair be damned. She leans into you, her hands coming up from your neck into your hair, just a touch less than frantic. You’ve forgotten the schedule now, you’re a writer not a director. Fuck the schedule. Your hands move to her hips, and she groans leaning back from you, her chest heaving.

Her pupils are blown out and her lips parted. You can tell she doesn’t want to stop, but she’s forcing herself. She rests her hands on your shoulders, her breathing slowing. You’re somewhat disappointed but you’re also proud of yourself for calming her down. She bends down to rest her forehead on yours, closing her eyes again. You let her gather herself and wait patiently before you say anything to her. When she seems to relax further, you decide it’s time you’re up front with her.

“Can I be really honest for a second?” You whisper.

She leans back, worry clouding her features. You’ve ruined her lipstick, but the rest of her makeup is intact. The beauticians would be proud of you.

“I’ve been freaking out about this-“

She interrupts you, “I knew it, I shouldn’t do this I-“

“Hey hang on let me finish.” You interrupt her interrupting you. She pouts and it makes you smile in spite of the situation.

“What I was saying,” you continue, “was I’ve been freaking out about this but not because I can’t handle it. I’m nervous and I’ve never been in this situation before. But me and you, we’re going to be fine. I’m not going anywhere and I will be in there supporting you every step of the way. It’s gonna be fucking weird, but exactly zero parts of our relationship have been normal up to now.”

She laughs and it’s like angels singing in the choir. Maybe the kid from earlier had a point. Only he was preaching the wrong religion. You were at the altar of her, and you should go to his door and tell him what divinity actually looked like. Or maybe you’d allow him to maintain his ignorance and keep this moment all to yourself like the greedy heathen you were.

She kisses your forehead and you can tell you’ve said all the right things. The worry is washed away from her and she’s looking at you like she thinks you’re the one who is divine. Oh the price you’d be willing to pay to hear her thoughts in that moment.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “I know this is a lot and…wait a minute are you okay? Your car?”

You shake your head, “Oh fuck I forgot about my baby. She has to spend the night in impound.” You stick your bottom lip out, exaggerating how sullen you felt about the car.

She smiles and runs her thumb over your lip, “We’ll go save her tomorrow, don’t worry.”

The ‘we’ in her sentence makes your heart sing. It’s no longer a you problem but a we problem. You’re struck with the realization that you love her. The sudden awareness of the emotion makes everything better and worse simultaneously. The fear of losing her grows, and the joy of having her grows. They are feelings dependent of one another and can’t be separated. You reopen the feelings cabinet and stuff them in, you’ll have to deal with that tremendous hulking beast later.

You want to tell her you love her, but instead you smile and nod. “Yeah, tomorrow.” You answer, dazed.

She sets her jaw and dissects herself from you, moving off your lap to stand between your knees. “Okay JD. We can do this. Let’s go have sex on camera.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from your stomach and shaking you. “Let’s not ever say that sentence again.”

She grins as she pulls you off the couch, clearly proud of herself for making a joke that would normally have come out of your mouth. You follow her out of the trailer and find Olivia waiting outside. She chuckles at the state of the two of you, not holding her tongue.

“Got Casanova to be your fluffer then?”

Jenna frowns in confusion and looks back to you. Her lipstick is smudged, so you lick your thumb and move to wipe it from her face, but she ducks under your hand.

“Oh absolutely not. We have make up artists for that, do not clean my face like my grandma right now.”

Her comment makes you laugh and you comply, putting your hands up in surrender. She turns on her heel and starts off toward the house with you and Olivia closely in tow.

Jenna and Olivia are completely different human beings when they’re in front of a camera. All playfulness and jokes are out the window and their serious work faces are on. You’re used to it now, having watched them work on the movie for over two months now, but it still impresses you every time when the switch is flipped. The assistant director is in Jenna’s chair, pushing the cameras in and giving them the cues to work off of.

The scene is set perfectly, even better than you imagined between the lines of your script. It starts off with them in a fight, which gradually progresses to them falling into bed together. You’re well aware of how the dance will go. They start and stop on the first few lines, getting the lighting and placement just right. You brace yourself for the impending doom you expect to wash over you the second their lips crash into each others.

But it never comes. You’re just as surprised as anyone when you find yourself with your jaw hanging open and your eyes wide. It occurs to you that you have watched Jenna do this before. Before you knew her at least. You’d seen all her movies, seen almost every scene she’d acted in. This was a completely separate person than the one who was in your lap only half an hour ago. This was the movie star you’d drooled over, tweeted about, chattered about to anyone who would listen. This was a character and you were fully willing to let it be just that.

You watch them act and you feel like you’re watching the movie in a theater. But you’ve got the best front row seat possible. You’re literally IN the movie set. Every time the assistant director cuts the scene you’re yanked back into reality and you recognize them again. It’s weird at first, obviously it’s weird, but you allow the movie magic to wash over you and it’s not nearly as difficult as you’d imagined.

Before you know it, Jenna is in a robe and at your side again, her eyes searching your face for signs of apprehension, but she can find none. You’re buzzing with excitement and she is shocked at your enthusiasm.

“That was…INCREDIBLE.” You say, hugging her and lifting her off the ground. She giggles as you spin around, only setting her down when you lose your balance and stumble into a light stand.

“So you’re okay?” She asks you.

“Okay? I can’t believe how good you were! And Olivia! Oh my god the passion! The aggression! Are you kidding me?”

Olivia yells at you from the other side of the set, “Settle down Casanova, or we’ll bring you into it next time!”

Your smile drops immediately and you scowl at her. You make a show of pushing Jenna behind your body and puff up your chest.

“You couldn’t handle me on your best day, home girl!” You joke, deadpan.

She blows a raspberry trying not to laugh at you and shakes her head, returning her attention to the assistant director. You’re riding a high, the realization that the scene is now over and your anxiety was for nothing lifts a weight off of your chest. Your mood is infectious and soon everyone is in high spirits. With this scene wrapped, the movie is almost complete. The schedule makes for another day or two of filming and then it goes into post production, where you play the waiting game and go back to your normal life.

You’re in too good a mood for that idea to really hit you yet, so you make room for it in your feelings filing cabinet, shoving it right next to the big L word that takes up most of the space in the drawer. Much like Scott Pilgrim, you’re terrified of that word and what it means for you. You let the thought go and enjoy the moment of relief.

————

“That’s a wrap!”

The moment the words left Jenna’s mouth the cast and crew erupted in cheers and whoops of laughter. Champagne bottles popped and the last remnants of the characters fell from the actors faces.

You watched the celebration in awe, the final moments of your first movie coming to a close. You couldn’t believe all of this had happened because you wrote words on paper and someone somewhere saw them and put them in the hands of Jenna. You allow the moment to swallow you whole, the pure joy radiating off of the crowd filling you up.

Olivia breaks free from the mass and runs over to you jumping on your shoulders and screaming.

“We did it Casanova! We fucking did it!”

You piggy back her around, running a short lap with her on your back. She slides off when you stop, smacks you on the butt and grins at you.

“Better go tell the director congratulations lover boy.” She says and runs back into the throng of bodies.

You laugh watching her jump on more people, enjoying her moment. A bottle of champagne pops behind you making you spin around. Jenna is holding two glasses and a now overflowing bottle, a huge smile plastered to her face. You make your way over to her and curtsy, then bow extending your hand. Instead of taking it, she hands you the glass and fills it to the top.

She fills hers and leaves the bottle on a table, clinking her glass to yours.

“Congratulations,” you tell her, smiling over the rim of your glass before taking a swig.

“This is all because of you, so I think the compliments go to you.”

“I could start a sickeningly sweet argument with you right now, but I don’t want everyone around us to suffer.”

“Let’s take it to my trailer then, you can tell me all about this argument of yours.” Jenna says, picking up the bottle again and holding her arm out for you to hold.

You loop your hand through the crook of her elbow and bend down to whisper in her ear, “Ooh yeah, debate team really gets me going, let’s go argue.”

She rolls her eyes still leading you away from the party, “Do you want to ruin this moment for yourself? Because you’re rapidly ruining this moment for yourself.”

“How about naked debate team. Now thats an idea.”

“You really think you could argue with me naked?”

You gulp, your voice cracking at the thought, “N-no. You’re right naked debate team is a terrible idea.”

When you step inside her trailer she sets the champagne bottle down on the table and turns to you. “Seriously though y/n, congratulations.” She wraps her arms around the back of your neck, looking up at you as she speaks, “I’m so proud of how far you’ve come these last few months and I can’t wait to see what else you do.”

Her words spread a rapid fire of warmth through your body, filling you to the brim with adoration and pride. You look down at her, a soft smile playing at your lips. You hadn’t planned on getting emotional, but here you were, unable to find a joke that could worm your way out of this complex situation.

“Thank you,” you say, “Thank you for everything. Thank you for showing up on my doorstep five months ago. Thank you for aggressively pursuing my movie, thank you for kissing me at that premiere and thank you for being the best director and star I could have ever imagined for this movie.”

Jenna’s expression is so soft it nearly hurts you. She pulls you down and kisses you hard, growing faster and frenzied quickly. She pulls you into the back of the trailer and into the bed.

———

Post production on most movies takes six months to a year. All the excitement of filming is done and the studio gets to work on compiling the footage and audio to create the masterpiece that people will see in the theater.

As the lead writer, you’re still called in to the studio here and there for a scene edit or a small rewrite, but for the most part, your job is done. You received a fat paycheck and cashed out, saving most of it. Jenna is in the studio nearly every day toiling over the imagery and reviewing every clip of footage and audio as it’s spliced together.

You had hoped she would spend more nights with you due to the proximity to her work, but often she commutes. Shes working a schedule that you had paled at when you saw it on paper. You’re not sure when she ever sleeps or eats, she works that much. You try not to let the feelings filing cabinet overflow, but one day a few weeks into post production, you’re really going through it.

You’d been trying to write all day, all week really, but nothing was good enough. You’d scrapped page after page, until you gave up on something new. You started unearthing old scripts, moving piles of paper around and re-reading them, trying to find one that could use a thorough rewrite.

It was in the midst of that activity that you found yourself lying on your back on your floor, staring at your ceiling. You had created a nearly perfect outline of yourself in screenplays, a writer’s version of a chalk outline around a dead body on the floor. The emotions were spilling out of your ‘orderly’ filing system and the only way to deal with it was to lay very still and hope they went away. You dealt with big feels like the kids in Jurassic park dealt with the T-Rex. Avoid avoid avoid, hold very still, avoid avoid.

Your front door opening and closing rouses you from an unintentional nap, and you’re confused as to why you’re still on the floor. Apparently, you had gone so still hiding from your own mind that you racked out amongst the mountains of your scripts.

“What exactly is happening here?” Jenna’s voice comes from above you and you prop yourself up on your elbows, yawning.

“I was dealing with some things and then the scripts tried to tie me down like Gulliver‘s Travels.”

“Uh huh.” She says, dropping her purse onto the table in the entry way and making her way over to you.

She shifts a few piles aside, removing half of the wall of paper from your side and lays on the floor next to you. The gesture is sweet and so typically Jenna.

“Do you want to tell me what things you were dealing with?” She asks, turning on her side to look at you.

You don’t want to tell her, you think. You do NEED to tell her. “I’m…feeling some big…things.” You say, halting between words as you think them through.

She doesn’t say anything, just raises her eyebrows and waits for you to continue. You puff up your cheeks and let the air rush out of your mouth. Here goes nothing.

“What if I’m boring?” You say to the ceiling.

Jenna snorts, “You are far from boring.”

“What if I can’t write another movie worth making?”

“You can. And there are plenty of movies worth making in this living room alone.”

“What if Secessus flops?”

“It’s not going to flop. And even if it does, we try, try again. That’s the business.”

You finally turn to face her, “What if after we’re done with Secessus, you figure out you actually are too good for me?”

She frowns at that, and thinks hard for a moment. She explores your expression, trying to work out if you’re joking or not. When she realizes you’re not, she sits up and leans over you.

“I am not dating you because of this movie.”

“Well, because of this script, we are dating.”

“Because of this script, we met. We’re dating because you’re a looney toon and I happen enjoy that about you.”

You sulk, “I’m not a looney toon. I’m a real boy.”

Jenna rolls her eyes and laughs at you, even in a serious moment you can’t help but joke. “When this movie is done, we’ll make another one. We’ll be like Tim Burton and Helena Bonham Carter.”

“They broke up,” you huff.

“Okay, we’ll be like Tim Burton and Johnny Depp.”

“Jenna, I’m in lesbians with you.”

She slaps your arm, her face serious. “Don’t joke like that.”

You sit up, forcing her to shift to your side and you take her hand. All jokes aside, you need to unpack that damned filing cabinet.

“Okay, the other L word.”

She shakes her head, not allowing you to get out of it so easily. “Which one, y/n?”

You sigh and look at your hands, her fingers intertwined in yours. No holding back now boys, here comes the full monty. You look back up and the sight of her nearly takes your breath away. At this point, you figure you have nothing to lose. Either she loves you back or she doesn’t, she’s still right there and you can’t keep it neatly tucked away anymore.

“I love you.”

The soft gasp that leaves her lips may as well have been made of the last breath of air to ever enter your lungs. Nothing would ever get better than that sound. Nothing except when she replies.

“I love you too. And it’s about damn time.”

You’re dumbfounded. She somehow always knows what you’re going to do. She’s always a step ahead of you. And you love her for it. You love her.

“About damn time?” You parrot back in mock outrage, “It’s been like six months dude we-“

You never get the chance to finish your sentence because she’s pushing you into your back and kissing you with a fervor you hadn’t yet witnessed. It’s soft and rushed, and it’s rough and sweet all at once. Your head spins but your hands have a mind of their own. They travel from her thighs to her hips to her ribs to her back, making notes of their journey all the way through. You stay like that for a while, telling each other everything that needed to be said without words.

One of you bumps a limb into a stack of screenplays and they avalanche down around you, spreading all over the living room floor and slowing your bodies adventurous touches. After a while, Jenna pulls herself away from you and sits up, resting on your hips. She reaches out for the closest screenplay and opens it, looking back to you.

“Which one are we making next?”

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday #tara carpenter #vada cavell #lorraine day #like a movie

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strayheartless · 3 months

Text

friendship bracelets:

Zack makes them, obviously, because he’s a sentimental dork, and in Gongaga it’s considered a sign of great affection to give someone something like jewellery. I like to think there’s a Gongagan tradition/ holiday a bit like Valentine’s Day but it’s for showing appreciation to everyone. And on this day people swap hand made jewellery to signify their respect and love for a person.

Mostly Gongagan kids swap them, and it’s a big thing in school, but Adults do also observe the day with those closest to them -or someone who has done them a great service through the year!

Zack hasn’t really observed the holiday since he left home, but when he finally becomes FIRST he gets kind of sentimental and homesick for some reason. So he buys a bracelet making kit from a craft store and makes a bunch of bracelets for his fellow firsts and Cloud and Kunsel, he makes one for Aerith too!

Giving them to Kunsel is pretty easy. They’ve been friends for years and have talked a lot about Gongagan holidays before. Kunsel is pretty touched actually, and hugs Zack. It’s a nice little moment between them. Quality brotherly affection. Hense the reason the word “brother” is stamped on the bracelet.

Giving Cloud his is funny only because Cloud goes bright red in the face and stutters through accepting it. Zacks pretty smug throughout the entire encounter about making Cloud blush like that. But he’s also incredibly emotional when Cloud turns up at 12:00 PM the same night and pushes a bracelet into Zack’s hand. Zack hadn’t known what to stamp on Clouds “best friend” seemed too weak and and anything more then that felt presumptuous to the point of impertinence, considering he was still battling with how he felt about Cloud. In the end he’d gone with “legacy” which felt like a cop out but Cloud seemed to like it.

It’s only as he looks down at the word printed on his bracelet that he realises he needs to seriously get his act together with Cloud… the word that both brakes his heart and makes it soar “everything”.

Aerith is pretty happy with her bracelet, and as she does with most things, gives him a bunch of flowers for his efforts! He deliberated on what to put on hers too. “Girlfriend” made him feel guilty. He loves her, he does… but he knows, and she knows that they’re playing a game until Zack tells her about Cloud. Instead he stamps “soul” on hers because she will always know his soul better than anyone.

Giving Angeal his is nerve wracking because it makes Zack feel stupid. He knows Angeal wouldn’t make fun of his homes tradition, but still… in the end the worrying is for nothing. Zack gives Angeal the bracelet stamped “mentor” and Angeal is very touched and even a little emotional over it actually. He gives Zack a side hug and puts the bracelet on immediately.

Genesis is -if possible- even more nerve wracking, because Zacknis absolutely sure he’ll be made fun of. He positively shakes out of his skin giving the bracelet stamped “hero” to Genesis and for a second Gen does do his whole “shoot it down in flames” thing until he realises two things: 1. Zack had gone to extend a art lengths to match the colour red to Gens coat, and 2. he turns it over in his hand and runs his fingers over the letters stamped into soft leather.

Zack absolutely panics when Genesis starts to cry. Gens emotional sure, but Zacks never seen the man cry. Gen asks him “why would you spend time on this for me?” And Zack tells him the truth, “cause you are a hero Genesis, and I wanted you to know that people see you that way.”

Genesis is never taking the bracelet off. Ever.

Then the only person left to give a bracelet to is Sephiroth. It is exceptionally hard to pin the man down that day, and in the end Zack has to wait a week for him to come back from mission. And then it’s terrifying to hand it over.

What’s even more terrifying is that Sephiroth kind of stops breathing for a second when Zack gives it to him. He sits on the edge of his desk heavily and stares at the inscribed bracelet in his hand. Zack says his name at least three times before Seph responds to him. When he does it’s with a shaking “why?” And Zack can only hug him and whisper back “because you are,”

The stamp simply reads “best friend” but it’s enough to bring the great general sephiroth to his knees.

***

Alternative title for this little headcanon is:

Zack Fair stops crisis core with the power of friendship.

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s1ater · 2 years

Text

promise me nothing.

pairings. steve harrington x fem!reader

about. steve and you cross paths, only for him to find out some bad news about you.

warnings. foul language, s4 spoilers sorta

ricky rocks. anotha one 😼🙌 also part two or nah?

“long time, no see, harrington,” you nod as you pass him before looking up and unintentionally connecting eyes with five other people at once. “and children…”

you nod again in acknowledgement, getting a good look at them all before making a move to walk away from the car they were all huddled around, but steve grabs your arm, “hey, what’s going on?”

“i don’t know what you mean.”

he rolls his eyes, still holding your bicep firmly. he tips his head toward the swarm of law enforcement in the front of a house before raising a brow, “you’re telling me this is nothing?”

“just about.”

“y/n.”

“what?”

“i think we need to talk.”

you and steve go back; way back since pre-school days, and although neither of you were ever truly close, there was a mutual understanding that you both had each other’s backs.

you both came from similar backgrounds; life set up since day one, given nice cars, lived in nice houses, and grew up in the hawkins country club aspect for loser adults trying to relive high school popularity by flaunting money.

and you were only tied more together by the strange and abnormal encounters and fights for life against the sci-fi creatures that had no faces and were covered from head to toe in slime—that eventually turned into something way bigger than the mind could fathom.

ever since the mall fire during the summer after senior year, you hadn’t seen steve or any of his nerd posse—till now.

you almost thought you were seeing things, but then again, you should have guessed that when anything remotely strange or out of the normal happened in hawkins, they’d always turn up, immediately on the case.

just never this fast.

“i think i’m dying.”

“what?”

you stood in front of steve, nancy, robin, and three of his freshman friends. their presence made you suddenly anxious and you couldn’t help but begin to talk out of your ass as you slightly paced back and forth in your parents living room.

how steve coaxed you into talking to them—you weren’t sure—but it didn’t take long and it seemed you were almost more than willing to allow them into your home by the way you so easily opened your front door and offered snacks and refreshments.

yep, you were definitely dying.

they watched you with sudden concerned and confused looks, not knowing what to say and not expecting you to throw them this type of curve ball.

“brandon,” you mumbled, your hands shaking out in front of you. “jesus, i can’t even think straight…” you place your hand on your forehead, thinking over whether or not you should ever be speaking right then. “he’s dead.”

“who’s brandon?” dustin glances around to everyone but you, afraid to make eye contact almost.

“her boyfriend,” steve whispers, speaking as if you can’t hear them. and you almost couldn’t.

“i can’t even-i don’t even know-“

“hey, hey,” steve stops you in your tracks of speaking, sitting up from the chair he previously sat in. “you don’t have to say anything right now, just breathe. sit down.”

steve liked you, a lot. like, since day one, even as kids, he couldn’t get you out of his mind.

there was just something about you. you had a good head on your shoulders, you knew what you wanted, you didn’t let anything or anyone knock you off your feet, and you didn’t need anyone to save you. he hated that fact—the fact that you didn’t need him and he hated that sometimes it seemed you weren’t anything more than acquaintance.

“sit down,” he pulled you by the arm till you were close enough for him to place a hand on your waist, carefully guiding you to the chair he was previously in, giving you a soft look. “just breathe for a moment, alright?”

everyone glanced to each other at the gesture, almost not believing it. they looked to steve now where he stood in your place, his hand stroking his chin in thought, “i think it’s time we call in your pal eddie.”

it seemed you were in and out of sensibility as you thought over the past 24 hours, not believing it was real. you felt crazy, not being able to keep a stable thought in your head for more than a minute before turning into an emotional mess.

steve knew you weren’t in your right mind, especially after you let eddie into your home without a second thought. he didn’t think you even processed that moment or even realized what you were doing until—

“who are you?”

something you asked twenty minutes after he had been in your home.

“i’m eddie.”

“i think i know you.”

“well i hope so since we’ve been in school together since middle school before you graduated.”

“right,” you narrowed your brows, but didn’t say anything else, not knowing what to even make of him.

you knew eddie, but he was never someone you had ever talked to or had any interactions with. you didn’t care for him; you found him obnoxious and practically repulsing when you were still in school together—but right now, by the way he was looking at you—you didn’t mind him at all.

his expression was soft and full of sympathy, like he understood what was going through your mind and why you seemed so…bipolar in emotions.

“y/n, eddie’s here to talk.”

“why?”

“because what happened to you, is exactly what happened to him.”

you still had narrowed brows as you stared at him, not knowing what to say. there was a small proportion of recognition that struck you when you stared at eddie, not nearly enough for you to trust him, nor enough for you to spill your guts out to him about how your boyfriend was practically castrated right in front of your eyes.

“you’re afraid?”

you slowly nodded your head, eyes wide, not understanding the willingness that has suddenly taken over you, “yes.”

he nods and you feel the need to continue to explain yourself.

“i can’t get that image out of my head. god, i don’t even know if it was…”

“real?”

“yeah.”

he nods again.

“you said you think you’re dying, why?” he sat right across from you on your carpeted floor, now eyeing you carefully with the same cautiousness you had in your own pupils.

“because… the things that were happening to brandon before he was fucking possessed… are happening to me.”

“what do you mean,” he starred at you strangely now, his head slightly tipping, watching you carefully just as the rest of them did.

“the bloodied noses, the nightmares, the headaches, that noise…” you cringed as you spoke, almost shying away from saying more.

“what noise?” robin was leaned forward on her knees, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“a clock.”

it seemed right as you said it, the sound echoed through the room and the lights begun to flicker till there was no light at all and the only breathing body was you.

“you’re fucking kidding me,” your head lifted toward the hallway that opened up to your living room; exactly where the noise was coming from.

this had only happened once before; the first day you had come back from college while you were throwing up in your childhood bathroom. you couldn’t figure it out, you had never been sick before—not like that, but then suddenly your world turned dark and the sound of that damned clock was one of the only things you could hear.

you got to your feet slowly, continuing to stare into the dark as the sound echoed throughout your now empty home. the sound was jarring and something about it made you want to follow it like the last time. you were losing your mind, you had to get out of there.

you turned, only for your body to match right up against an unintelligible one. one much larger than your own.

your eyes went wide immediately, feeling a scream rip through your throat as fear set in fast and your head tipped to see such a haunting face you had never seen before.

“hello, y/n,” it looked like it smiled, examining your frightened state, taking pleasure in it, as you stared back in a paralyzed state. “your time is running thin,” it took a step forward, closer and closer. “you will soon be mine.”

you back peddle, fast, not thinking, not processing, but soon landing on your ass and back into the light where you sat in the same place before but with a pair of hands on your face, with voices yelling and screaming you back to conscious.

you were in shock, your limbs were numb and you could barely keep yourself up in a sitting position. you were breathing hard like you had been holding your breath for the past minute, practically dry heaving, feeling your stomach fold up into itself in terror.

“what happened?” steve’s face was the only thing your could see as his hands clasped your face hard, his nose practically touching yours as he stared at you wide-eyed, dipped in fear.

you stared back, feeling every nerve slowly come back to life within your body—drawing out into a painful process. your body begun to shake, tears flooding into the corners of your eyes as you couldn’t even begin to process the switch between realities.

“steve, get out of her face, she’s going to throw up!” robin was yanking at his shoulder despite his constant persistence, clinging to your body.

“are you okay?”

everyone stood around you, wide eyes, wide with fear, wide with concern.

“are you okay?”

“what happened?”

“i was here, and then i wasn’t, but it’s like nothing changed other than you all being gone,” you stood now, guiding them all through the process of your episode, now that you could finally process what had just happened. “it was that sound, that fucking clock sound, and i turned and it was something, like something you’d see out of a fucking movie, like the weird alien-monster things we’ve seen before. i don’t know—”

“vecna.”

“what?”

“she saw vecna,” dustin looks between everyone who all have seemed to agree with this consolation.

“will someone please translate what he just said?”

“vecna,” steve repeated, glancing up to you from the sudden heavy gloom laid upon him. “he’s the reason everyone’s been dying lately, you see him, you’re in an automatic death sentence… but you already knew that…”

you starred at him in disbelief, your eyes switching between each teen that sat on your couch, as if asking whether that was true or not, but they all avoided eye contact--which spoke louder than words.

“you’re fucking with me,” you scoffed, turning on your heal and beginning to pace. “of fucking course.”

“you don’t seemed so… terrified about this anymore,” max is quick to elbow lucas in the ribs who winces.

you ignore it, suddenly annoyed at the swift depressive mood change, “how do we kill this motherfucker?”

“you’re not giving up on me, are you steve?”

“of course not.”

the two of you stood on your back porch after steve had lightly pulled you by the elbow, recommending catching some fresh air.

you don’t believe his words. he seemed tired with almost the look of sadness in his eyes. this observation causes you to frown as you tip your head, slightly coming closer to steve to look at him better, “then why does it look like you’re the one dying and not me?”

he scoffs, “y/n.” he gets taller, straightening his posture from where he was previously leaned on your railing. he turns even more serious and it makes you frown. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“what difference would it have made?”

“we could have caught it earlier.”

“and be in the same position as we are in now?”

he doesn’t say anything, but still stares at you with a look that makes your chest tighten and your skin begin to flare up in heat.

and then, “i’m sorry about brandon.”

he wasn’t. he never liked him.

“i’m sorry you had to go through that,” he takes a step closer to you, his hand now clasping your arm. “we’re going to figure this out, i promise.”

“don’t promise me anything, stevie,” your hand softly caressed his cheek, giving him a thinned lip smile before walking inside, leaving him to himself outside.

navigation.

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olderthannetfic · 10 months

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Anon from 722398181104795649 again about YA as a G-D and it's failure(s). Your response is really interesting because it definitely aligns with the market research I've had to do over the last 3-ish months for work. Adult YA readers want YA to skew older superficially as escapism from the woes of adulthood (It's like someone who orders a pasta with broccoli in it because they appreciate the flavor it brings, but they have no interest in actually eating their vegetables). Teenagers feel alienated by the G-D that is meant for them no longer allows them to confront said woes with honesty or maturity for their age to prepare them for adulthood or discussing broader ideas. More teenagers skip over YA altogether or just reader adult genre fiction with some Middle Grade fiction mixed in because the teenagers feel in MG, there's still an honesty to the stories that they can understand, having once been young children. In short: teenagers think YA books are talking down to or patronizing them.

The result is YA authors pushing for NA, New Adult, as a G-D, which hasn't taken off within tradpub outside of romance circles. Mostly, because what they're pushing for is already an established genre for around a century: campus novels--books about characters 18+ who are entering college, establishing independence, beginning to explore sexuality and enter the workforce, etc. But, again, YA adult readers refuse to engage with adult genre fiction because there isn't the facade of protection from adult themes or topics, and there's an aggressive refusal among many agents in literary fiction (and some adult genre fiction) to encourage authors to sanitize their stories. YA authors began attempting to cross over into adult genre fiction with mixed, but overwhelmingly negative, results, as they cannot shake the stigma of writing YA. And the genre fiction crowds they want to appeal to have higher standards, typically, than the average YA writer is able to meet. YA authors then complain about the differences in publishing YA and genre adult fiction. It's like when MCU actors and directors get upset when prestige film directors don't consider MCU movies to be "cinema."

This is fascinating.

I pretty much missed the YA boom (slightly too old, not paying attention, etc.), so I've mostly encountered YA through its worst evangelists of the Hunger Games knockoff era, and often a good bit after their favorite books were at their height.

As I've said before, this really strikes me as that pattern where something is big when you're at a formative age, and it becomes the Normal Default to you.

I'm sure some of it is refusal to engage with adult nuance, but I'll bet a lot of it is resistance to leaving the name of YA behind. People spent so much time defending this niche that they started believing their own rhetoric about it being the only place the good queer stuff was or the feminist stuff was or whatever. They identified really strongly as A YA Fan. It's hard to let that go.

And if you don't remember much about pre-YA boom publishing, the fact that all that YA-tastic Mercedes Lackey stuff was filed under fantasy, not YA is completely obscure. The places you find stuff you'd like that aren't called "YA" are not obvious. The fact that YA in its boom era form isn't universal and eternal is not obvious.

I think people are waiting for their Cool Era of their early 20s to return and for the things they think should always be in fashion to come back... Like everyone else aging ungracefully, they may be waiting a while.

Gotta say, every New Adult book I've been shown sounds like a hideously boring contemporary romance that would probably make a good coffee shop AU against a backdrop of a canon that's dark or magical but that isn't really pulling its weight even if you like contemporaries.

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dead-dove-yandere · 18 days

Note

I don't know if requests are open. But what if Smiley is a woman who once hooked up with a reader who only had sex and casual encounters and then forgot about the person, but little did she know that her affair resulted in Smiley

Okay this was originally sent in before requests were open again and I was going to ignore it but I felt bad about deleting it because it seems as though you weren’t sure or confused. So I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and take a bit of time to re-explain rules surrounding requests before getting to your request.

The most up-to-date information regarding whether requests (as in, asking for a particular story) are open or closed will be in my bio, so it’s a good idea to check there first. I also put out posts when requests are opening or closing. However, asks are always open and you can send things that arent requests even when requests are closed. Basically, if you have a question or made something that you want to share, you can send that any time. But if you want to ask for a story then you should check the bio. :]

My pinned post has additional and more in depth rules and it gets updated sometimes so I recommend also checking that out right before sending anything through the ask box.

Anyway, onto the fun stuff!! This is going to be another one from Smiley’s POV.

TW: Stalking, obsession, vague allusions to casual sex, implied abusive, unsafe or otherwise unusual childhood, watching someone sleep, routing through another’s private belongings

They rolled over. Still asleep. Still undressed. The first time I’d seen a person undressed and it was fun - I didn’t realise that reproduction could be like that. I sat up in bed, staring at them, watching the rise and fall of their breathing. This truly was an invaluable learning experience - not only experiencing a reproduction attempt for the first time, but also, I was in their home, filled with all kinds of clues as to who they are. I slowly got out of the bed, taking great care not to awaken them as I scuttled over to the dresser. There were all kinds of things on there. Aerosols and tubs and tubes and boxes of various substances, all in the name of hygiene - a practice of keeping oneself clean and healthy. Now that I was an independent adult, alone in the world, no longer a juvenile coddled by some guardian, I struggled to keep up the many strange rituals that seemed imperative to fit in. I made a mental note of everything there - I wanted to try the same things for myself.

I moved to the nightstand, where I picked up their phone, tapping the metal and glass box to make it light up. It was difficult to navigate, but I figured it out, reading the messages. How strange! They knew so many people, it seemed. Not like me. There were people going by all kinds of strange names - Boss, Dad, Grandma, Landlord, Mum, Two Factor Authentication. I had never heard such names before now. Was this how people met each other? Did they write through the device? I wanted desperately a phone of my own so I could talk to people, but money was a difficult thing to scavenge. I turned the phone off and put it down.

It made a slight tap as it went on the dresser, and they stirred, beginning to wake. I leaned over them, my face close their ear.

“Shh. It’s alright, Lover. Rest,” I whispered, pressing my mouth to their ear in what I had learnt tonight was called a “kiss.” They grumbled sleepily before rolling over again and falling back into unconsciousness. I went to their wardrobe next, opening it up to have a look at the garments they chose to wear. There were a great variety, in many different lengths and colours and patterns, all shaped for different parts of the body. One seemed to be a covering for the back and arms, along which were little slits right about where the waist would be. I slipped my hand in curiously, only to find that the slit was a pouch attached inside the piece of clothing, and something was stored within. I took it out. A small rectangle of paper, stiff and thick, and written on it were strange words.

“A— Company. For job enquiries, telephone— or email—“

A job? Like a task to do? That sounded fun. I wanted a job too. I looked over at my lover, still sleeping. We’d mated. Bonded. We were together now, but how could I talk to him without a phone to send the messages? Maybe I should do their job too - then I could see them then. Maybe I’d even find some kind of paper to send my messages on instead and hand deliver them. Yes! That’s perfect!

This fitting in thing is easy.

Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post

#yancore #yandere #yandere blog #yandere fic #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere drabble #yandere oc x reader #Ask #Story #Dove Speaks #Smiley

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nothingtoseeherebyeexx · 10 months

Text

Delicate, Chapter Five: Party in the USA…at Potter Manor? (Narcissa’s Version)

second half of the party!! narcissa+reg bonding, sisterly problems, messy alicissa! hope you like it <3

< prev chapter next chapter >

When at a party there are many old friends one hasn’t seen in ages, the risk is getting stuck in a tumultuous cycle of recognition, surprise, light chitchat and (empty) promises of keeping in touch. This is the mechanism that led Narcissa to lose Mary after barely fifteen minutes into the Potter’s house, or, more precisely, their royal castle. And mind you, Narcissa was used to big, luxurious houses.

She had just caught a glimpse of Mary, sitting on a sofa in the corner of the living room between Zabini’s girl and Marlene McKinnon, when she got up and went to the kitchen with the blonde and Lily.

Considering everything, the kitchen was still forbidden territory, and Narcissa wasn’t going to risk another encounter with Alice in front of everyone so soon.

One good thing about the whole small-talk-with-acquaintances routine was that it required incredible memory and ability to make plausible shit up to keep the conversations going, and the mental exercise was hard enough for Narcissa to not focus on the raging burning of all her blood vessels caused by her lovely ex-schoolmate (schoolmate? Who was she kidding?) that, for the record, happened almost two hours earlier. If Narcissa stopped babbling to strangers, she’d have to face the fact she was being blatantly ignored by Alice.

How fucking dare she.

Narcissa was ready for a fight.

She had never been an optimistic person, so she hadn’t hoped for a pacific reunion with Alice, but this childish indifference was beyond what she could allow. She could say it’s because they’re both adults, and needed to face their problems like such, but really, Narcissa just hated being ignored.

By Alice.

Especially by Alice.

Maybe because she was the first one to see her when everyone else was just looking. Beyond the snotty attitude, the prestigious family, the posh accent, Alice saw something Narcissa didn’t even know was there.

Okay, so maybe Alice hated her. Fine, Narcissa couldn’t blame her, but the silent treatment? Really? After everything?

The lack of people to talk to was slowly leaving Narcissa to her own thoughts, which was evidently not a good sign.

She needed a distraction. Drama. Theatrics.

It was time to say hello to her beloved cousins.

“Is there space for me?” she asked, standing in front of the sofa where Dorcas, Sirius, James and Peter were lounging, the girl mildly enraged, the three boys pleasurably sloshed.

Sirius’ eyes lit up, and he immediately made a show of getting up, arms wide, and hugged her tightly. Narcissa reciprocated awkwardly: the last time she saw Sirius, she was still working with her parents, and her cousin had always been resentful of her, blatantly preferring Andromeda’s company. Narcissa guessed he was more mad at their family’s business rather than her personally, so maybe he was being so friendly because she had left.

Or because of the alcohol.

“Took you long enough! We missed you, Cissaaaaa~”

Probably because of the alcohol.

“I missed you, too Sirius,” she patted his shoulder, breaking the hug.

She sat between him and Dorcas, and smirked at Regulus, on the armchair in front of her.

“How’s your girlfriend, Reggie?” she taunted him, glancing the girl asleep at his feet.

“Get lost,” he answered, but a smile was tugging at the corner of his lips.

“How’s yours?”

“Oh, fuck off,” she groaned.

One summer, years before, Regulus had walked in on Narcissa pacing her room like mad, losing her mind over a letter Alice had sent her at the end of the school year (because of course she liked that sort of thing, messages or emails were too banal for her, the romantic sod). Everything had been meticulously organized, the delivery kept secret from her parents, and then Narcissa had been caught by her little cousin because she couldn’t be normal about a letter from her ‘friend’.

She had thrown everything in a drawer and sat on her bed, Regulus following suit.

“What’s wrong, Cissa?”

“Nothing, Reggie, I just received a letter from a friend-“

“A letter?” he asked, eyes wide. At this day and age?

“Yes, well…” she laughed, embarrassed, “She’s a bit old-fashioned.” (She was absolutely not.) “Did you need anything?”

But Regulus kept quiet, staring at his lap.

“Did you know some male celebrities had relationships with other males?”

Oh, Narcissa was going to be sick.

“It goes for other males, too, not just celebrities,” he clarified, his cheeks getting as red as apples.

“Wh-Who told you about this?” Narcissa asked, trying to sound as neutral as possible and probably failing. Their family wasn’t progressive at all, and Regulus wasn’t much more than a kid, so she wanted to know if he was genuinely curious about the matter or if he was about to unknowingly insult her.

“I can’t say!” He exclaimed, panicked.

Sirius, then.

“Okay…How do you feel about it?” she tried, still as diplomatically as possible.

“I don’t know…I know Mother and Father are against it, but I’m not sure why. I don’t think it’s a bad thing, though. Personally,” he raised his palms almost as an excuse, “I’ve never been in love.”

Narcissa couldn’t help but chuckle at Regulus’ self-assigned distance from the matter. “But art often portrays love, and it comes in many different ways,” he continued, innocently. “So it’s not that weird if it’s shared between two people of the same sex?”

“Seems to me like you have it figured out,” she commented, smiling softly. “They don’t do anything wrong,” ‘We aren’t doing anything wrong’ “But I have to warn you, your parents will disagree.”

Regulus nodded. “I’ll keep my mouth shut with them.”

How sad. How incredibly, inevitably sad.

Narcissa was a lot like him: a spirit of preservation stronger than her morals. That’s what made the two of them so different from Andromeda and Sirius, who’d prefer a clear conscience and bloody wounds, rather than the safety that hypocrisy could offer them.

“Who was the letter from?” Regulus asked.

“Told you, just a friend from school.”

“Who got you walking around your bedroom like the Phantom at the Opera,” he countered raising a dark eyebrow.

Oh, he was going to grow into an insufferable teen. She couldn’t wait.

But now, Narcissa had two options: completely ignore the whole talk they had just had and deny everything (safe, hypocritical), or admit-

“You have a crush on her.”

Fuck it.

Narcissa told him everything. From her encounter with Alice, to the interest disguised as repulsion, to the sweet, lovey dovey details that made Regulus scrunch his nose in childish disgust. And when she spoke, Narcissa realised with stupor that the words took shapes and colours she wasn’t aware they could.

Narcissa was capable beauty of her own creation.

Then, years later, Regulus causally came to her room one day complaining about a boy he was seeing like it was nothing, and it made her heart warm. They had created a safe space that survived even after Sirius ran away, dying only when Regulus himself left, a few years later. The two of them kept in touch after her own escape, but they didn’t talk as much as they used to.

“You like girls?” Sirius asked shocked, bringing her back to reality. Regulus bursted into laughter.

“I’ve been out for years, Sirius,” Narcissa answered flatly.

“You’ve never had an official girlfriend, I couldn’t be sure!”

“Oh my God, Sirius, don’t be homophobic!” Peter swatted him in the head.

“So you’re the Narcissa Black,” called a voice from her left, and she had to lean over Dorcas (“I’m sorry love, you’re gorgeous by the way”) to see that it belonged to a handsome young man sitting on the ground. She wondered how such a tall person could almost hide behind the armrest of a sofa.

“The one and only. And you are?”

“Remus Lupin. I’m Peter’s bassist. It’s an honour to meet you,” he shook her hand.

“You look dangerous, Lupin. It’s charming.”

“Hands off, Cissa,” said Regulus, “Sirius already called dibs on him.”

“When did you learn to be such a asshole?” his brother replied, rolling his eyes.

“It was for a role,” Regulus answered, buried in the leather armchair.

“I’m not interested, just stating a fact.” Narcissa shrugged.

“Besides, if Sirius had to be jealous of anyone here, it should be me,” stated Peter smugly, “Since I’ve already kissed Remus. On the mouth. During a live show.”

“I’m not jealous of anyone,” protested Sirius. Liar. He was seething.

“Anything to say, Remus?” intervened James.

“Peter kisses all his friends, it’s a rite of passage. Even you and Sirius did it, he told me,” Remus replied nonchalantly.

“Enough with the petty fighting,” said Dorcas. “James, Sirius. Weren’t you going to recreate that one scene from Dirty Dancing?”

Oh, what had Narcissa walked into?

“Sirius.”

“James.”

“If I have to be subjected to that one more time,” commented Peter, “I’ll have to get more champagne. Excuse me-”

He got up while Sirius and James started making space around them. Dorcas pulled out her phone and exchanged seats with Regulus for a better view.

“It’s not much of a show,” he whispered, next to her. “They’re just being idiots.”

“Try sounding less fond, when you say it.”

“I’m not fond.”

“Mhm. It’s good to see you don’t hate Potter anymore,” she commented.

“I never hated him. But that doesn’t mean that I can stand the guy.” A bit confused, her little Reggie, but Narcissa didn’t pry.

The whole room was watching Sirius and James being embarrassments to themselves, drunkenly spinning around the room and shaking their heads while singing. They had learnt the choreography well, though, if they could perform it in that state.

“Sirius is playing Baby?” asked Remus.

“Potter has enough strength in his arms to hold him for the final move,” Regulus explained, like he had seen this show a thousand times.

“What would you know about Potter’s arms?” Narcissa teased.

“I saw the attempts with the roles reversed. I’m surprised Potter didn’t end up at the hospital with a concussion.”

Everyone was still watching Sirius and James dancing when Peter came back. He had brought a glass of champagne for Regulus, too.

“Oh, we’re almost done,” he commented, sitting next to Narcissa.

“Apparently. Did you go to the kitchen to get those?” she asked.

“No, I picked them from a trail. Do you want one?”

“No, thank you,” I just wanted to know where the fuck is Alice Fortescue. “Mary and Lily are still there, right?”

“Alice too, I think,” commented Regulus glancing at her. Telepathic little shit.

And that’s when Sirius threw himself at James: a couple of screamed curses were involved and the form wasn’t at all perfect, but everyone felt the need to applaude the performance. The two clowns even bowed, showering in the attention.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, Narcissa finally saw Mary and Lily leaving the kitchen, arm in arm. Smiling. Looking all sweet and cute. If that was the direction things were taking, well…it was time to have a little chat with Evans.

Just as she was getting up from the sofa, though, Regulus grabbed her wrist.

“I wanted to tell you something, Cissa,” he whispered, serious, “It’s about Bella.”

Narcissa immediately sat down.

“She’s getting married. Soon. They’ve tried to keep it hidden, but rumours spread fast.”

Narcissa’s head was suddenly spinning like a top. Bella always said she’d never marry, and yes, they were still young when they used to talk about marriages and growing up, but…she would have invited her sister, right? It couldn’t be true.

“Are you sure? Rumours are rumours.”

“I have reasons to believe it’s true. I just thought you deserved to know.”

“When’s the wedding?”

“No clue. Are you thinking of sneaking in?”

Narcissa bit her lip. “I’m considering it?”

Regulus stared in silence, but she knew he wasn’t judging her: he probably would do the same, in her place.

“I have to go, now,” said Narcissa, noticing Mary and Lily getting closer. “Thank you for telling me.”

Regulus nodded, and she could hear him making a snarky comment at his brother as she walked towards the girls.

“Mary! I thought I had lost you forever!” Narcissa put her hands on her hips like a disappointed mother.

“Same here, this house is huge,” Mary smiled, offering her a glass. “Apple juice?”

“Aw, thank you, darling. Were you in the kitchen?”

“Yes, Lily and I wanted a drink.”

Narcissa didn’t have to say a word, because Mary apparently read her mind and stealthily shook her head. So Alice wasn’t there, then. Where the fuck was she?

Lily watched the exchange, sipping from her own cup.

“Lily, I wanted to have a little chat with you, alone,” smiled Narcissa, “To get to know each other.”

Mary sensed danger, Narcissa could tell .

“I really like her, Cissa,” she warned, “And I think we can become really good friends. So don’t scare her.” Mary added in a whisper, and it made Narcissa smile even more devilishly.

“I won’t. Thanks for the juice.”

Mary narrowed her eyes, then threw a look at Lily, who seemed pretty calm, and walked towards the sofa.

“Okay, Evans, what’s your deal with my Mary?”

“Straight to the point, I see,” Lily commented, taken aback. “Your Mary?”

“She’s like a sister to me. So?”

“I want to get to know her, hopefully become her friend, eventually write a song with her,” Lily listed without hesitation.

“Huh, so your priorities changed, then,” Narcissa raised an eyebrow, “I thought the collaboration was your main goal.”

“Before we properly start writing together I wanted to get to know her.” she replied, quick. She really had her answers ready, Narcissa could appreciate that. She had to catch her off guard.

“…Do you like women?”

“I-What?” Lily faltered, her face becoming as red as a tomato. “I-I don’t…I don’t. I’ve always been with men.”

“That doesn’t mean shit, you know.” Narcissa commented, satisfied to have caught Lily by surprise.

“Yes, of course…” she replied, apparently finding the tip of her shoes incredibly interesting. “Does…does Mary like women?”

Narcissa looked at her, not answering immediately to see how Lily handled the suspence. Answer: pitifully.

“I dunno, go ask her,” she shrugged.

“I can’t just go up to her ask if she likes women!”

“Why not? I just did.”

Lily pressed her lips, clearly flustered, and they held eye contact for a while.

“Okay, you seem harmless enough. The interrogation is over.”

Lily sighed in relief, and took a sip of her drink.

“…So, what‘s your deal with Alice?” she asked, breaking the silence. Narcissa tensed.

She could tell her everything. She had the chance to be the childish one, making Alice seem like a bad friend for hiding their relationship to her friend. A taste of sweet, sweet revenge.

“If Alice didn’t tell you anything, I’ll keep my own mouth shut,” she said instead.

“Fair,” Lily shrugged. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”

They looked around, pretending to ignore the rising awkwardness.

“Thank you for coming,” started Lily, “I already told Mary, but coming here represents a risk for both of you. So thank you, I appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Lily,” Narcissa softened. “You were there for Sirius when he ran from home, and then for Regulus, too. I know it wasn’t only you who helped them, but you have my respect.”

“So, you don’t care you’ve voluntarily walked into the snake’s nest?” Lily joked humourlessly.

“Darling, I live with a snake. My house literally qualifies as a snake nest.” Narcissa replied, rolling her eyes.

“You…What?”

Narcissa smiled at the surprise on her face. “Follow me, I’ll show you.”

She led Lily to her car, that thankfully wasn’t too far, ranting about how she had a whole fight with Mary about bringing the snake that night. In the end, Narcissa had won: a mother can’t just leave her daughter alone at home, and going out was good for development. Mary argued that snakes didn’t grow like human babies, but she had given in.

They had left the tank in the passenger’s seat, and when Narcissa pulled out Bunny, she immediately found her place around her forearm, small head resting on her palm. Lily was staring at the reptile, mouth wide open.

“Bunny, this is Lily Evans. She’s Mummy’s friend.”

“This is Bunny?” she replied, amazed. “Can I hold her? Please?”

“Oh. Mary freaked out the first time I showed her, and Amelia threw me a shoe. Here, take her,” Narcissa gently held Bunny. “Aren’t you scared?”

“I love her. It’s hard to find it insulting when people call me a snake, looking at her,” Lily said mindlessly, watching the snake carefully as she slithered up her arm. “It tickles!” she giggled, like a kid petting a dog for the first time.

Narcissa let her play with Bunny for a bit.

The streets were almost empty, the air cold, and the sky didn’t get much darker than this. Soon they’d have to go home, and she still hadn’t talked to Alice. How frustrating.

“I know what they say about you, Evans.” Narcissa commented. Lily gave her her full attention, Bunny now drifting unsupervised around her fingers.

“…And?”

“Honestly, I think they’re scared of you. You are friends with two prodigies of the Black family: they couldn’t manage to overshadow Sirius and Regulus’ success, and now that even I left almost unscathed, I think they’re scared of more of their actors and singers doing the same,” Narcissa explained. She had started formulating that hypothesis when the youngest Black started his own career: the beginning of the downfall wasn’t him leaving, but him not needing his family to succeed, and Narcissa was further proof of that.

“Our family couldn’t go against Potter, the main reason Sirius left, because of his parents, but you were unlucky, getting involved in that ordeal with Severus, so you’re an easy target. They want to take you down, and the brothers with you.“

“What do you think I should do, then?” Lily asked, sincerely. Now, five years weren’t that much of an age difference, but to Narcissa Lily was looking a lot like a lost puppy at the moment, and she was holding her precious Bunny oh so tenderly…she felt the need to help her.

“Make them pay. Give them a reason to be scared. I bet Sirius and Regulus would gladly help you with that,” she answered, taking Bunny from Lily’s arms.

“We were all so relieved, when Regulus ran away,” Lily said, as Narcissa put Bunny back in her tank and locked her car.

“I have to ask those two about the details. You should’ve seen Regulus when Sirius left, I thought they’d never speak to each other again,” Narcissa sighed.

“Their relationship was frail, at first. But in the end they sort of made up.” Lily offered, and Narcissa had the feeling she wouldn’t get much more info from her. It was a personal matter, after all, and Narcissa doubted Lily herself knew much more.

“And they did it by what, talking?” Narcissa joked.

Lily nodded, and Narcissa’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Are you se…kidding me?” Lily shook her head.

“Those two talked?” Nod.

“About their feelings?” Another nod.

“Sober?” …Reluctant head shake.

“Listen, I was as surprised as you are-“

“Surprised!” Narcissa let her back rest against the cold car door.

“If they can do it, why can’t I?” She exclaimed, frustrated.

“I know!” Lily agreed, standing next to her with her arms crossed. They both acknowledged their slip ups quickly, and shut their mouths.

“What, do you also have sibling issues?” Narcissa smirked.

“A sister that pretends I don’t exist,” Lily said, facing the house. The gold lights and the wind made her hair glow like wildfire. “She’s pregnant. And I found out through a fucking Facebook post.”

Narcissa hissed. “Ouch. Well, at least you have only one sister to worry about: I was too high to crash my niece’s baby shower but hey, maybe I can make it to my other sister’s wedding.”

“Well, better late than never. If you crash the wedding I’ll crash my sister’s kid’s baby shower,” Lily replied, and they both chuckled. Yeah, Narcissa liked her.

“…Shall we go back inside?” said Lily.

“Please, I’m freezing. I can’t feel my toes and I don’t know if it’s the heels, or the cold.”

As soon as they stepped back into the warm house, Narcissa decided she wasn’t going to waste any more time.

“Listen, Lily…Do you happen to know where Alice is?” she tried.

“Oh…” Lily replied, “I don’t know. Really. Marlene went looking for her some time ago, maybe try asking her.”

“Okay, thank you,” Narcissa nodded, already searching the room for a blond mullet. “But tell Mary I didn’t traumatise you, or it’ll be a dreadful ride home.”

“I will,” Lily laughed. “Good luck.”

Narcissa found Marlene, but she was too loyal (and hammered) to give Alice’s precise location, so Narcissa had to search the whole house, room by room. She found that Longbottom guy Alice was friends with, but even his lips stayed sealed, and Narcissa damned Alice for having such good friends. She was halfway into exploring the second floor when she finally found her.

Alice was lying in a bed of dark guest room, an empty bottle of vodka by her side. Her short curls were dark against white pillow, and she was wearing a black suit, white shirt and a waist coat, the jacket discarded on the sheets. She looked tired, but apparently she had had the decency to take off her shoes before laying on the bed. When she saw Narcissa, she had the audacity to groan.

She fucking groaned.

To Narcissa’s face.

“Hello to you, too.” Narcissa said, venomous, standing in the doorway’s yellowish light. Alice glared at her, still not speaking a word. Narcissa physically needed to hear her voice. At least once, after so many years. Or she was going to explode.

She walked into the room, Alice’s eyes on her, and stood in front of her.

“Are you not going to say anything?”

“I have nothing to say to you.” Alice replied.

Oh, her voice. Her voice. Give her the most offensive, atrocious words, but please, please don’t keep Alice’s voice away from her.

“Amazing. Because I have a lot to say.”

Alice stood up, making Narcissa retreat just a step. She had gotten taller, Narcissa had to slightly lift her chin to look at her in the eye, even with heels on. She tried not to think too much about it.

“Speak, then. I can’t promise I’ll listen,” Alice smelled of alcohol, but she looked as sober as ever. She had never been a light weight, even at parties during their school years Narcissa was always the one getting dragged back to their dorm. In Alice’s arms. Arms that were so close she could just reach out and-

“That’s exactly the problem, Fortescue,” replied Narcissa, snapping back to reality. Alice’s eyebrow shot up at the last name. God, Narcissa hadn’t used it since their first weeks as roommates, but it still rolled off her tongue like a deadly curse.

“You can yell, scream, hate me all you want, but don’t ignore me. I won’t accept it.”

Alice blinked, and then laughed bitterly. “Oh, so the princess can disappear for a decade, but when I ignore her then that’s unacceptable? Don’t be a fucking hypocrite, Black,” she said, all bite, and Narcissa had never been happier of someone being mad at her.

“You broke my heart, ran away with the pieces, and vanished. I didn’t hear from you for years, and then you come back into my life, expecting what? Me, waiting with open arms?” Alice never shouted when she was mad, her words became more and more settled and firm, like slaps to the face that progressively got stronger.

She was close, really close, close enough Narcissa could smell a hint of cinnamon under all the drunkenness. She didn’t move an inch, couldn’t move even if she wanted to.

“This doesn’t seem like nothing to say,” commented Narcissa, snarky, because she couldn’t help it, not with Alice so close, the closest they’ve been since they were at school.

“Oh, fuck you,” Alice groaned, turning away, but Narcissa grabbed her by the collar of her shirt.

“No, fuck you. I came here to apologise, but you want to act all childish-“

“Childish?”

“Let me finish!” Narcissa shouted, then angry silence settled between them. Narcissa let go of Alice’s shirt, now all crumpled.

“Have you listened to any of my songs?” Narcissa asked, more quietly.

“No, I’ve made a good job at avoiding you, in the last ten years.”

“Well,” she snapped, trying to ignore the angry ringing in her ears. “I’m performing, next Friday. It’s a live show, and I want you to watch me.”

“You can’t make me-“

“Watch me fucking sing, Alice, or I promise I’ll haunt you like a ghost. Every. Step. You. Take. And you won’t be able to ignore me.” Narcissa punctuated, tapping her finger on Alice’s tie. “I’m not asking you to like me, or talk to me. Just to listen.”

They were glaring at each other, but Alice’s brown eyes caught the light in a way that made them glow like bonfires, mysterious craters on the surface of a far away planet, and the freckles on her face were still exactly where they were supposed to, a map imprinted in her memory, and Narcissa had forgotten she was supposed to be glaring at her.

“…Fine. But take your hands off of me,” Alice swatted her hand away, but Narcissa was satisfied, both because Alice had given in and because her voice was almost soft, if she listened carefully. Or if she was delusional enough.

“Good. It’s time for me to go. By the way, you look stupid in that suit,” Narcissa lied.

“You love women in suits,” countered Alice, smirking because she knew it was the truth.

“On you, it’s repulsive,” Narcissa shrugged.

“Repulsive is that green you’re wearing. It’s not really your colour, Cissa.”

“Green is my colour, always has been and you know it, you lying-“

“If no article of clothing is coming off, I’m escorting Narcissa to the door,” interrupted Lily, standing behind them, with Mary next to her trying to suppress her laughter.

“My heels are the only thing I’m taking off,” said Narcissa, walking towards them, her mind repeating that last ‘Cissa’ like a broken record. “Let’s go.”

Narcissa didn’t look at Alice while walking away. They had never been good at goodbyes, and if they didn’t even consider saying it when they thought they would see each other for the last time, why would they start now?

Goodbye, for them, was a promise bound to be broken.

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copperbadge · 1 year

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Hi Sam! I’m really interested in what you said about taking an adderall before socializing so that you don’t have to spend the next several days agonizing about the awkward shit you said. I’ve never heard anyone talk about that as a benefit before.

Is it because taking it makes you less likely to say the awkward shit at all? Or because it just makes you less likely to fixate on it later? I mean, either way sounds pretty good, I’m just curious and intrigued.

Yeah, it's pretty fascinating. I'm going to try to put this in coherent order but there is a lot going on here, so let's start with the disclaimer that a lot of this is anecdotal or based in casual research, so I don't have sources to cite, but you should be able to google and explore for yourself.

SHORT VERSION: Adderall doesn't alter my behavior, at least as far as I can tell; it might somewhat inhibit my bad habit of interrupting, but that’s not why I take it. I take it because it prevents me from reacting emotionally to awkward moments in a social situation or remembering those moments later. The result is that instead of thinking "Oh, that thing I did was super awkward" and obsessing over it, when it probably wasn't awkward and if it was nobody remembers it anyway, I just don't have any strong emotion attached to it so I don't remember and feel bad about it later.

It's like if the color red constantly burned your eyes, and you could take a drug that would turn down the saturation. You still see the color, but now you see it the way everyone else sees it, and it doesn't hurt anymore.

The long version is...more complex, but I'm including it because I want to talk about why this maybe happens.

The reason I have such fraught emotions surrounding socializing is that I have Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, which is a common aspect of ADHD. It's not the only reason one might obsessively relive embarrassing moments, but if you have ADHD, RSD is the likely cause. RSD is linked to poor emotional regulation which derives from a deficiency in executive function. So this whole family of ADHD symptoms -- poor focus, poor short-term memory, time blindness -- all come from a basic failure of executive function, and so does RSD. And luckily for me, my poor executive function can be treated with stimulants (some people, even people with ADHD, don’t respond well to them).

Even though RSD seems dissimilar to other aspects of ADHD, because the stimulant addresses a neurological root cause, anything stemming from that cause is, to some degree, alleviated by the medication.

RSD can manifest in various ways. I'm generally fine when I'm present in a social situation, but I struggle to resolve shame and anxiety around past behavior. I have spent a lot of time worrying that people who, let's be clear, I know love and respect me, have finally had enough of me and something I said or did was the last straw. I know intellectually this is not the case and I have spent my adult life striving to remind myself of that so that I don’t come off as a needy creep who constantly has to be reassured of other peoples’ affections. Emotionally, however, I was incapable of reconciling these memories. They just hung around in my brain, causing me a lot of pain and regret.

So there’s a chain reaction of saying something, realizing it may have been somewhere between "slightly weird" and "deeply upsetting", and encoding it in my memory with strong emotions of shame and fear attached to it. I then involuntarily relive those memories and the emotions attached to them afterward -- usually only for a few days, but depending on the event, sometimes off and on for years. I suspect this derives from our very early ancestors, who had to hard-code dangerous situations into their memories so if they encountered them again they'd recognize them as dangerous. My brain simply encodes every social interaction as having a fairly high level of danger. This situation is fucking life-threatening, don't go near one again or you'll feel like this forever. Except in my case "this situation" is not dangerous, it's just a dinner party with friends or a meeting with a colleague or a first date.

It seems that the Adderall switches off that instinct to categorize social interaction as inherently dangerous by allowing me to regulate my emotions. If I’m not feeling fear in the moment -- because there’s no reason to be afraid! -- then my brain doesn’t categorize the moment as dangerous, and won’t remember it negatively later. I won’t really remember it at all. So my memories go from “A dinner party where I said three terrible things that I feel shame over” to “A dinner party where I had some really nice conversations.” Do I remember the conversations? Not in detail, and that’s fine. That’s how memory is supposed to work.

And now, because I know if I take an Adderall half an hour before a party starts I won’t feel shame or fear after the party ends, I’m even more capable of relaxing and enjoying myself, meaning I’m even less likely to feel negative emotions that would cause me to remember things with shame later. I just thought shame was a price you paid for socializing; I knew the amount I felt wasn’t right, but I thought everyone else just put up with some amount of it. But no, it turns out when your brain isn’t constantly looking for a fucking lion trying to eat you in the middle of cocktail hour, the reason people go out and socialize is that it’s...fun to do. And it turns out when I’m not subconsciously terrified that I’m about to be drowned in quicksand, I actually form fond and positive memories of things.

Which is a little wild to be experiencing for the first time at the age of 43, but better late than never. And it means that while I still struggle a great deal with emotional intimacy, I’m much, much more capable of maintaining social contacts and deepening friendships because my friends can see and talk to me face-to-face and I can enjoy my time with them more.

#sam has adhd

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mango-bango-bby · 1 year

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Congrats on 7k my love you deserve it!! Can you do 🪷 with prince! Keigo please 🥺

♡ Sleeping Beauty ♡

(A/N: Hi love, I know really sweet fluff isn’t usually your style but I couldn’t bring myself to write angst or smut today lol!! I always get so nervous when my moots request, like I love it but I get nervous ahhhh ok, I hope you like this 💝 And thank you 🥺🥺🥺🥺 You’re so nice 💞)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, prince!Keigo, royalty!reader, Keigo kisses reader while they’re asleep, murder to rivals, mentions of blood, really sweet fluff

Summary: Keigo breaks the curse on you through true loves kiss (Yan!Hawks x GN!reader)

Prompt List ➸ ♡

Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The sound of Keigo’s boots echo off of the walls of the empty castle. This was the day he had been waiting for. Everyone knew about the curse placed on you as a child.

A witch, who was jealous of your mother, had cursed you as a baby that as an adult you would fall into a death like slumber. The only thing that could possibly wake you from that sleep was true loves kiss.

You would eventually fall into that slumber by pricking your finger on a spinning wheel. Your life went on like normal, you grew up like normal. The curse wouldn’t affect you until you were older so your parents raised you as a normal royal child.

Keigo can still remember the first day he met you. You two were both children. You hid underneath the table of food during a ball, hiding from the crowd of people.

You were overwhelmed by the amount of people talking and dancing. Keigo, bored of the party, noticed your shoes from underneath the tablecloth. You two talked to each other for the rest of the night.

You two would look for each other at every royal ball, whether it was in your future kingdom or Keigos future kingdom. You two would hide away and talk, or you two would dance on the dance floor.

Keigo knew he loved you, even from that young age. Keigo can also remember the feeling when you became isolated from the world, afraid of the curse.

The news of you finally falling victim to the curse finally came to Keigo. He could only smile a bit at the news, getting suited up before grabbing a horse from the stables. He had to be the one to be true loves kiss.

It was the only option, in his mind. There wasn’t any other option for who to wake you other than him. If anyone else woke you from the spell, he doesn’t know what he would do.

Keigo walks through the empty castle, gently putting his sword back into his sheath. The word of a beautiful royal who was cursed to fall asleep spread quickly.

Multiple men trying to find the castle, in hopes to be the one to wake you. It took Keigo a while to make it here, he had encountered many men who wished to wake you. That’s why he needed to bring the sword. He could be the only one to wake you.

You would be so grateful for him for waking you, you would be so glad to see him that you wouldn’t notice the blood.

If you did notice Keigo would simply explain to you that he did it to protect you. And knowing you, you would believe him. Always his sweet, innocent Y/n. His Y/n.

Keigo creaks open the door to the tower. The rooms walls are covered in thorns and roses. The stained glass window on the wall casts light of red, pink, and blue into the room and directly onto you as you lay in the bed.

Your hair spread across the pillow as if after you pricked your finger you fell into the bed. Your hands resting on your stomach as you sleep peacefully.

Keigo smiles softly, sitting on on the bed next to you. He leans over you, gently kissing you. It’s a solid few seconds before he pulls away, waiting for you to open your eyes. There’s a thought that crosses his mind if you don’t wake up from him. However it does work.

You gently open your eyes, letting them adjust to the light. You turn your head, you face bursting into a smile. “Y/n-” Keigo starts, being cut off by you throwing yourself at him into a hug.

“I knew you were going to be the one to wake me” you mumble into his shoulder, Keigo wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I knew to”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ Thank you for reading, darling!!

#yandere bnha #yandere fantasy au #yandere!keigo #yandere keigo #yandere takami keigo #yandere keigo x reader #yandere takami #yandere hawks x reader #yandere!hawks #yandere hawks #moots 🏹

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shuttershocky · 1 year

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Whats the phillipine's most famous cryptid?

Alright so before we start let me reiterate that the creatures that get passed off as Filipino mythology are still living beliefs for many people, especially those that live away from the big cities. These are not mere scary stories to them, but real threats that you must take seriously, and specialists that deal with the supernatural are very much still a thing.

So the most famous creature would probably be the aswang, but what an aswang actually is depends on who you ask. They could be were-beasts, undead, evil sorcerors/witches, etc depending on the province, and it's come to be almost an umbrella term for monsters that don't already have a name. Every time someone strays too close to the woods and goes missing? Aswang attack. Wikipedia will tell you that stories of the aswang are mostly popular in the South of the Philippines, but my dad's family comes from the North and they're just as well-known there. Ask a grandfather or grandmother whose family came from Ilocos, and there's a decent chance they can tell you stories of how someone the family knew was taken by an aswang because they didn't hurry home when the sun was going down, or how they themselves had a close call when they ignored their parents' warnings about what was out there. When we would visit my grandmother's home province, she would tell me very seriously that if the night is too dark, I should never leave the indoors even if we're at a hotel at the beach, you could never tell how daring a monster might be.

The CIA even actually used the belief in aswang stories to crush a local communist guerilla movement called the Hukbalahap, where they would kidnap Huks and drain their blood then leave their corpses for their comrades to find, terrifying the people and killing public support for the movement.

I think the funniest story that I personally know though is technically not an aswang attack, but shares a lot of the same elements with the monster stories that involve dark magic. It's also particularly interesting because it was told to me by a mentor from the gamedev industry and who was not a superstitious person.

When I was a kid I already knew that no matter what, I wanted to work in video games. My friend and I would attend all the local dev meetups and talks and seminars trying to learn as much as we could about the industry before getting out foot in the door, and one of the developers we befriended was a very experienced artist with some international successes under his belt already. He's now working at a big name European studio, but before that he shared with us the story about his own dangerous encounter.

It started when my friend asked for advice on love, like many young adults would to a cool, older mentor. Rather than give wise sayings about patience and communication or whatever, he said "When they invite you over to your house, keep your eyes open in case they try to eat you."

See when he was our age he was dating this art scene girl who kept telling him that she was dangerous and a practitioner of curses, which he had brushed off as being a quirky art thing and kept seeing her despite her warnings. One time, the girl invited him over to her house saying she was going to eat him, and my mentor, thinking it was his lucky day, walked right in, went into her room, and then stood there when she pulled out a knife and suddenly declared that actually, she was possessed by an evil spirit and was going to kill and eat him now.

Despite the now very clear sign that eating him did not mean anything sexy, he said he was okay with this. She attacked him with the knife and only then did he finally realize that maybe he was not okay with this, but at that point she was making inhuman sounds and was also overpowering him with absurd strength. It's been years since I heard the story so I don't remember how exactly he survived. If I remember correctly, the girl's mom burst into the room and said that this happens often, then promptly pulled the girl off of him and began exorcising her on the spot while the girl began screeching, and the mom insisted while struggling that my mentor and her daughter shouldn't see each other anymore and so he escaped from that house, never to go back.

He ended that story there, insisting it was completely true and that he had already told this story to his peers in the gamedev industry (he actually did) while my friend and I stared at him completely dumbfounded.

"What the fuck" I said, "Why did you keep going when she clearly said she was cursed and was also going to eat you for real?"

To which my mentor just shrugged his shoulders and said "I mean, she was so hot. I just thought it would be okay anyway."

#And that's why years later when I watched Kara No Kyoukai #nothing about Kokutou's continuing to date Shiki despite her warnings that she'd kill him struck me as unrealistic #I know someone irl who did the exact same thing and almost got eaten for it

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mcufan72 · 1 year

Text

Cold winter days, a lonely woman on a bench, a stranger in the park...

An Encounter in Winter ❄️

Loki and female reader

18+/adult themes/talking/flirting/slow burn/angst/fluff/smut (eventually)

Warnings: mentions of an accident, alcoholism and death (not detailed, not graphic) /a little bit of implied smut (not reader...not yet). It's a long chapter and maybe the beginning is a bit sad before the flirting can start again. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2

Chapter 1 here

You and Loki met every day in the park. That has been going on for over two weeks now and you have already developed a lovely routine. First, you walked around that little lake or through the park and told each other about the day. Then you headed out to one of your benches and sat there for a while.

Sometimes you two had many more things to talk about like you would know each other for ages now and sometimes the two of you just sat there in silence and enjoyed the others' proximity. It never felt awkward. It was hard for both of you to not take each other's hands.

How much you wanted to place your head on his shoulder and Loki wished you would just do it. But none of you did anything of it. You both strictly avoided physical contact, except the hand kisses he gave you every day as a welcome. Even then you were always wearing your gloves.

Neither him nor you wanted to destroy what had just begun blooming and might end in a very good friendship. Also you two never asked about private details, both of you didn't want to be intrusive. He knew what your job was and the only thing you knew about his job was that he was something like a businessman, often on exhausting business trips.

Loki was always very secretive about his work or when it came to him. Nonetheless between you two there was definitely a subtle attraction for each other but you both were in denial about it. Love at first sight didn't exist, if love exists at all and so you both still maintained a polite distance from each other.

This afternoon after your stroll through the park you now sat next to him on the bench and you both looked at the little lake and watched at the ice skaters, who were peacefully doing their laps around the rink.

Today Loki wanted to take the chance to find out why you were alone here in this city. Maybe it was too soon to ask you such a private question but he needed to know because…no, he hadn't feelings of love for you but he was concerned about you and somehow the urge to take care of you grew more and more.

"Lady y/n? I'd like to ask you something. Why do you live here alone? What happened between you and your family? There's something that makes you sad and has broken your heart, right?"

He sensed that it wouldn't be easy for you to talk about it.

"You get straight to the point, don't you?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"No, it's okay, Mr. Laufeyson."

Right from the beginning you had the feeling you could tell him everything. You just weren't that kind of person who would tell everyone about your messed-up life on your own. You didn't want to bore someone or to be pitied. But you had nothing to hide or nothing to lose so you decided to talk about one of the worst things in your life that had happened to you.

"There was a big disaster, an accident, with some unfortunate consequences. I caused it, so that's what I thought for a very long time. A few years ago I was on a day trip with my mother and two other people. On our way back home another car, that drove way too fast, took me off the road and I lost control and we crashed in my car.

It was bad, my mother got injured. Nothing happened to me, I just had a shock and the other two were unharmed too. Unfortunately my mother's injury caused her constant physical pain afterwards. I felt so guilty about that. Because I had caused it. And she tried to cover the pain with too much alcohol.

The combination with the meds she had to take continuously since that accident, led to her death finally. My father yelled at me that this disaster was only my fault and that I was the only one to blame for everything.

You know, I had a wonderful childhood and youth, happy and carefree. My parents always seemed to be happy and in love. I'd never have thought that they could be unlucky and desperate. What I didn't know was that my parents' marriage had already been a loveless one for many many years and that my mum sought comfort in drinking lots of alcohol long before the accident happened. My godmother told me later.

At my mother's funeral he didn't even look at me. Only my then-fiance was there for me that day.

Am I through with it? Yes and no. I will never forget what happened but I've learned to live with it. And I still have to learn that none of it was my fault. It was fate and I never had a chance to avoid what happened even if I wanted to. But nonetheless I feel guilty sometimes and I still need time to arrange my new life here and to let go of the past…"

Loki listened to you in silence. He was profoundly touched by what he just had heard.

"Your father needed someone to blame for his faults and his mourn. So, it seems like he chose you. Did you ever meet your father again after your mother's funeral?"

"No, he never forgave me for what I had done. I arranged myself with this situation and it's okay now. And I still love him though."

"You do?" He turned his head towards you, astonished.

"How? I mean, he did you wrong and he let you feel his anger, he left it all out on you and made you responsible for the loss of his wife, your mother. Instead of doing that you two should've comforted each other. You would've needed his love and support."

The unjust behavior that was being shown to you made him angry.

"Yes, he did blame me and I mourned my mother's death alone but he's still my father…and parents are never easy to handle, are they?" You smiled, still staring at the lake.

"And in most cases, we love our parents somehow, no matter what they say or do or what they think about us. And I'm sure, deep inside his heart he still loves me, too. I know it's not possible for everyone to feel like this and that there can be unforgivable things and it's absolutely okay to forgive your parents not. I don't feel the need to meet him ever again but I can't hate him either.

And I had to leave. It became impossible for me to stay where my family lived. For me it's better to live alone. No pain anymore, no sorrows. So that's why I moved here a few months after the funeral."

Loki nodded, he understood what you meant. He had his own family issues and totally understood your contradictory feelings.

"That's really sad what happened to you and between you and your family. I feel sorry for that, I really do." Loki said gently and genuinely to you.

"You don't have to but thank you. I'm stronger now, I'm alright now," you said quietly.

"May I ask you something, Mr.Laufeyson? You turned towards him to face him.

"Of course, Lady y/n!"

It always made you giggle when he called you that.

"I noticed it since the second day I saw you here in the park, sitting on this bench. Don't you feel cold? There's snow on the ground and it's so cold. Every day you wear just a suit, a light scarf and a light woolen coat. You must be freezing! I'm freezing all the time."

Somehow you were concerned about him and Loki chuckled.

"You're adorable, Lady y/n…may I invite you for a coffee or a hot chocolate?"he asked you with his deep baritone and smiled politely at you.

He knew that some Midgardians were addicted to hot chocolate, especially in the winter time and after what you had told him just yet he thought you could need some comfort. You noticed that he didn't give you an answer to your question but you didn't want to force him to give you an answer either and so you gave him a big smile. You were cold and it sounded awesome to drink something warm now.

"Oh yes please, Mr.Laufeyson. A hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows…that would be sooo wonderful now," you answered him full of joy and enthusiasm.

"It's hot chocolate then, my Lady. Let's go!" He replied calmly and you two stood up from the bench to leave the park.

"Wonderful, and I already know a nice café where we can get it" and you hooked your arms around one of his like it was the most normal thing in the world.

He stiffened immediately, stopped walking and looked astonished at your tangled arms and then into your face, a quizzical look in his eyes, raising one eyebrow. You looked back at him a little scared. You didn't want to overstep and let go of his arm promptly.

"I'm sorry" you said quietly, smiled awkwardly and hid your hands behind your back.

His gaze at you was kind of emotionless now and you couldn't decipher it.

"That's quite all right, Lady y/n," he said after a few seconds and offered you his arm gentlemanlike so you could hook your arm with his again.

"My Lady?" he said calmly.

"Thank you, Sir" and you took his offer gratefully, smiled brightly at him and you two continued the walk to the café.

It was pleasant to feel him physically. You felt the muscles of his angled forearm flexing under your grip. You had started to caress his forearm with your fingers without recognising it but it made Loki grinning. It felt good. You were the cutest thing he had ever seen and you clinging on his arm felt pretty good.

When you had reached the café and found a nice table at the window, Loki helped you out of your winter coat and hung it up in the wardrobe together with your scarf and your beanie.

"Thank you, you're a real gentleman," you said and smiled at him.

"That's how it should be and it's what my parents taught me: behave decently towards a Lady because every woman deserves respect, " he answered and he gave you a kind smile.

"No one ever did this for me," you stated.

"That's awful! It seems you only met idiots before you met me." he grinned smugly and winked at you.

He took off his coat and the jacket of his suit and hung them up in the wardrobe next to your winter coat. After he had helped you with your chair and you had taken a seat, he sat down across from you and rolled the sleeves of his crisp white shirt neatly up to his elbows. His tailored waistcoat hugged his body perfectly and his clothing was precisely rounded up with a dark green tie.

The sight of his v-shaped, marvellous torso and his defined biceps flexing under the sleeves of his tight shirt made you swallow thickly. He looked stunning and you tried to not stare at him like an idiot. The knees of his well-built endlessly long legs brushed yours under the table and you tried hard to ignore it. Every contact of your body with his made your spine tingle.

"You might be right with it, Mr. Laufeyson. I only met the jerks until I met you," and a big smile appeared on your face again.

After the waiter had taken your orders, Loki decided to continue your conversation you had in the park. He wanted to learn more about you because he liked you very much. You were so positive, your whole appearance and attitude were so natural, genuine and warm. Your natural manner was enchanting. He admired you for being so strong. But besides this he was sure there were more incidents in your life that had hit you hard.

"It seems you like the color green?" you asked him and you made a gesture like you would tidying an imaginary tie around your neck.

"Oh…yes, it's my favorite color," he answered laughingly.

"Mine too," you said and smiled at him.

"I know," he answered with his velvety voice and a flash of pink appeared on your cheeks.

"Excuse me, Lady y/n but…I can't get it out of my head. So you are really completely alone here in this town? No family, no friends? You also mentioned a then-fiancé. Is there really no one who takes care of you? After everything that happened to you?"

Maybe it would be better to not answer a stranger's questions you just met some time ago but you trusted him somehow. He remained distant and guarded all the time and you didn't know much about him but you didn't have the feeling that he wanted to harm you, it seemed he cared about your well-being. And mostly your gut feeling didn't betray you. He truly seemed to be one of the good ones…but you would definitely not talk about your ex-fiancé.

"Besides that I'm a big girl and able to handle myself, you seem really to be concerned about me."

Loki just shrugged his shoulders apologetically and smiled politely. In addition he couldn't ignore your beautiful body which was perfectly hugged by your knitted turtleneck sweater and your jeans. He liked your beautiful small delicate hands and how you were fidgeting with your fingers.

"Besides my father, I have a sister, a brother-in-law and a niece."

"A sister, a brother-in-law and a niece? That's wonderful. Do you meet them regularly?"

"Why do you want to know all this?" you wondered and smiled at him.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to overstep anything and of course you don't need to give me an answer. But I like you and it just concerns me that a nice woman like you has neither a family nor friends here by her side who care about her. I know how it feels to be alone all too well."

Now you were concerned about him. A man like him was alone and lonely in life, too? Until now you've never talked about those private things, you just spent approximately two hours in the afternoons together and you always presumed he has friends or a special someone. And if he had a wife you would never want to come between them. His concern for you seemed to be genuine so you wanted to answer him.

"No, unfortunately, I don't see my sister and her family. She and my niece… were the other two passengers in my car…. You sighed quietly.

"They're world travellers and the last time I saw my sister was at the funeral of our mother. And I'm sure she doesn't want to see me ever again because when we had that accident I could have harmed her and her baby, too. I think she will never forgive me for what happened either. Our relationship after the accident is a complicated one. And to be honest, I don't even know where they are actually." You chuckled slightly.

"But I have some friends at work…ahm… they're more colleagues than friends but sometimes we meet at the theater or in a restaurant…so, as you can see, I'm not completely alone."

The waiter came and served you your hot chocolate and Loki his espresso and you both took a sip of your beverages.

"Mmhmm…fantastic, exactly what I need right now, " you hummed.

"Your hot chocolate marshmallow stuff looks delicious," Loki stated and he noticed the seam of cocoa and cream on your upper lip when you put the mug on the table, your hands still cupped around it to warm your hands.

"There's…something on your upper lip." Loki stroked his index finger over his upper lip to show you what he meant and grinned.

You raised your eyebrows and laughed silently. With your tongue you licked the cocoa-cream seam slowly off your upper lip, unaware how exquisitely sensual you did it. Finally you stroked with the side of your thumb over your lips to clean them properly and as the cherry on top you gave him your cute smile.

"Better?" you asked him.

Loki couldn't help himself but stare at you and your action. He licked his lips nervously and he felt how his pants became tighter in his crotch.

"Yeah, better," he assured you.

"Wanna taste?" you asked him smoothly while looking him deep in the eyes and you passed your mug into his direction.

A shiver ran down his spine. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat.

"Maybe next time, darling. But thank you," he replied in his deep voice but now it sounded a little bit more rough and scratchy.

Why did you affect him so much? He shouldn't allow himself to feel like this. You would never talk to him if you knew what he did and who he really was. You were too good for him.

"You miss something if you don't taste it, it's really good," you pouted and glanced at him smilingly.

"I'm sure it is. I'll try it one day. I promise."

"Good, I'll remind you about it!" and you put your mug back on the table again.

"So tell me, Mr.Laufeyson. What about you? Do you have family and friends here? A wife somewhere waiting for you perhaps? I can't imagine that a handsome and extremely polite man like you is all alone here in this city."

He hesitated before he gave you an answer.

"I have a brother. He lives here too. No wife, no…I'm not in a relationship. I'm…not alone …most nights, if you know what I mean but…it's never anything solid…and I moved here recently so…I don't know many people here, not yet. I need to put certain things here in order."

"Ah, okay, I understand."

Was it a good or a bad sign that he hadn't asked you yet to spend the night with him? Anyway, you weren't looking for a one-night-stand or a boyfriend.

"So you have a sibling too, a brother, that's nice. It's important to have your family nearby…if possible. And please don't get me wrong, I didn't want to be offensive..it's just…once bitten twice shy… the jerks, you know."

You answered him friendly and smiled.

You didn't want to force him to tell you more. You had the feeling that he didn't want to tell you more details about his private life.

"No need to worry, Lady y/n, you haven't been offensive. Not more than I've been,"

he answered you and took a sip of his espresso.

Your conversation became more casual and general again like it was every day when you met each other at the park.

You talked about the cultural offers of the city, some musicals and museums.

"Would you like to visit an art gallery? With me?" he asked.

Did he just ask you out for a date? Normally he asked a woman to share his bed for the night. He never asked for a date. But you were a special woman to him. You deserved better than only to be a one-night-stand. You deserved to get conquered and loved. He wasn't the right man for you but he wanted to give you a good time and make you feel less alone. And he would be less alone too.

"You would like to do that with me, are you sure, Mr.Laufeyson?"

You couldn't believe that he wanted to do this with you, that he could be interested in art, too. Normally you were used to visiting art galleries all by yourself.

"Hmmmmhh! I'm absolutely sure!" he assured you.

"Oh, yes that sounds great and yes I'd love to visit an art gallery with you."

His offer made you overly happy.

"What about next week?"

"Fine, that sounds great! Next week then!" you nodded. "It's late, I should go home now. I gotta get up early."

"Shall I escort you home?"

"No, no please, no circumstances Mr.Laufeyson. My place is not that far away from here. But thank you for your kind offer…and your invitation."

"My pleasure!"

Loki nodded, smiled warmly at you and when you stood up from your chair, he went to the wardrobe and helped you into your coat. He stood so close behind you that you could feel his breath on your neck, his fingers touched your shoulders gently. You shivered again, his closeness felt good and made you feel safe. You turned around to face him and for a short moment, you thought he would kiss you. Of course, he didn't, you barely knew each other.

It felt good when he stood so close to you. He hoped you wouldn't think he wanted to touch you in a not-so-decent way when his hand gently stroked over your shoulders after he had helped you into your coat. It happened rather accidentally than purposely or that was what he thought.

When you turned around to face him he couldn't resist letting his eyes wander over your pretty face. He found you incredibly pretty with your sparkling eyes and your wonderful soft lips. It was hard for him to kiss you not. He bet you would slap him if he would do it, you only knew each other briefly. It didn't feel right to kiss you, not yet and maybe he would never be allowed to do that.

"Have a nice evening, Mr.Laufeyson and thank you so much for this lovely afternoon and…the hot chocolate."

"Have a nice evening too, Lady y/n, I definitely enjoyed the afternoon with you, and you're welcome."

"Tomorrow, same time, same place?" you asked him happily.

"I'm looking forward to tomorrow, same time, same place. And after our stroll in the park, I'd like to sit here with you again, in this lovely place. What about you? Would you like that?" he asked you, softly gazing at you and waiting for your answer.

"Yes, let us go here again tomorrow. That would be great. See you, Sir. Bye."

"See you then, my Lady."

You smiled brightly at him, turned around and waved your hand at him when you opened the café's entrance door and left the café.

On your way back home you walked along the store windows which were so lovely decorated for Christmas. Your coat and your scarf smelled like him…sandalwood …and a warm smile curved your lips slightly.

After you had left, Loki got dressed into his jacket and coat, paid the bill and left the café too. He didn't want to go home yet and so he visited a bar, to find a companion and distraction for the night…like usual. And if he was honest with himself he had the unfulfillable hope that one day you would be his companion, his friend, his lover, his girl for each of his lonesome nights and days…and he smelled a hint of your perfume that lingered in his coat and a smile curved his lips.

"Yes babe yess…fuck me, Loki…deeper, deeper…I'm a good girl, I'm a good girl yes,yes…please…fuck meee daddy…"

"That's what you want, slut, hm?…want me to fuck you relentlessly like the whore you are…fuck…just like that…"

"Yes, I'm a whore, fuck me deeper… daddyyyy…deeper…yesss…"

Loki fucked the woman underneath him in a merciless pace. He was close to his release, he just wanted to finish this quickly.

"I'm…cumming."

"Yes, cum…cum now" and he ejaculated and she climaxed while shouting his name.

When he looked at her, he himself was panting heavily in the aftermath of his orgasm, he didn't see her, he saw your face…Loki pulled out of her quickly and left the bed, slightly irritated, stroking his hands through his messy hair.

"Loki darling, come back to bed, I want to cuddle you " she pouted.

"No, no cuddling, just fucking. I made it clear before we started!"

"Oh come ooonn. You're so sweet," she chirped.

"No! Go girl! Please! I never cuddle, okay! …please go, clean yourself or take a shower if you want and then just go. No aftercare. We both just wanted to let off some steam. That was the deal," he said respectfully but strictly.

"Okay, babe," she answered carelessly and jumped out of the bed, collected her clothes from the floor and went towards the bathroom. She didn't care, she had a good fuck with Loki and that was it. A few minutes later she came back, cleaned and dressed.

"Bye, Loki babe, you were fantastic, " she purred, pressed a wet kiss to his cheek and left his apartment.

Why did he see your face when he fucked a random woman? He couldn't allow himself to fall for you…and he wiped his hand firmly over his cheek where that woman had kissed him. He didn't feel satisfied, he felt empty inside and alone.

Something had started to change.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

@lokisprettygirl @wheredafandomat @fictive-sl0th @lokixryss @huntress-artemiss

#loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x reader fluff #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki x reader fic #loki x reader angst #loki x reader smut #loki x y/n #loki au

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karrenseely · 2 months

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Emotional Regulation

So I have CPTSD. Everything I've read mostly points to this being a lifelong condition (yay :P) that is incredibly difficult for all of us whom suffer from it. I know it has been for me. I honestly don't know if I'd have developed it if my parents had been loving, supportive, and understanding like they should have. Because, even if they had been, I would still have likely had many many years of gas lighting from society, them, and my extended family to be a gender other than what I was. And that takes its toll on anyone's psyche.

But who knows, maybe if they'd been really supportive, then I wouldn't have had years of thinking I was crazy or shameful, maybe I would have transitioned really young as soon as I could tell them they were wrong. Then all I'd have to deal with is some body dysphoria. But then even that can take its toll as well. So I really couldn't say if I was destined to have this incredibly difficult mental health condition or not.

Either way, I really wish I'd had the loving supportive family every child deserves. I really wish I didn't find my psyche shattering as I grew up, getting stuck repeatedly at every traumatic event that I can remember, and actively forgetting everything I couldn't along with most of my other memories. Such that now, my memories consist of shattered disorganized shards scattered over the floor, most of those shards long since missing. It's really difficult to live when all you really have is now.

People talk about their childhoods like there's this linear well established timeline in their memories. It was a long time before I realized this was the typical way people remember their past. That for most people, they can remember approximately when such a memory occurred, in sequence with another. Even now, this is so foreign to me. I remember things in disjointed pieces, any one memory is not connected to any other. And few, if any, are connected to a specific time that I can locate.

Then there is the ability to remember what you did yesterday, or last week, or even last month in day to day life. That it's hard to know what's happened and what's been done recently. This was particularly bad when I was dissociating all the time, fortunately, therapy has helped with that part, and I don't do it as much and I can remember more of my day to day life. But even now, there are still significant holes in my memories of adult life. And admittedly as I struggle through my current flare of CPTSD symptoms, I sometimes wish I could dissociate like I used to so that I don't have to feel all of this horrible stuff. It hurts like hell.

If someone created the universe, they must be one of the most sadistic assholes to have ever existed, making it so healing is so effing painful, much less making thinking feeling beings feed off of one another.

In this journey of trying to heal, I've encountered many people talking about how, when we were abused as children we didn't develop our emotional regulation skills like normal loved, unabused kids do. I always found these comments or suppositions confusing. In large part due to the fact that I don't really understand what emotional regulation means. As a child, trying to survive, the only thing that worked, that made things even remotely bearable was dampening down on emotions until I didn't feel hardly anything at all. I wasn't particularly good at this, I still had feelings but they were distorted hazy half hearted things that would escape out, usually as anger, irritability, sadness, often fear, sometimes even joy would get out. But none were fully formed, or fully embraced, because if I did, then the pain would be in full force, the shame, the horror I constantly felt at what I was going through. So I did my best to damp down my emotions to almost nothing, and dissociate as much as I could so that I didn't have to feel or atleast remember feeling all those horrible things I felt. And the plus side to dissociation is that you truly only live in the moment. You can forget so much that way. You can ride the bus to school, but not remember any of it, just one moment you're at home and the next, poof, you're at school, and the next, poof, it's time to go home again and get on the bus, and poof the next you're at home again... you get the idea.

Emotions when all of the above were unsuccessful and I felt them anyway, usually it was the really really bad ones. And they were felt at 120% full blast. It was either 10 mph, or 120 mph. No inbetween. But people who talk about the ability to regulate emotions describe it as having inbetweens. Not having to feel the full blast, but not suppressing it completely either.

For the longest time when I encountered that phrase around emotional regulation, my mind just skittered past it, as it didn't make any sense to me. But I found myself thinking about it a couple months ago. And some kind fellow people with CPTSD pointed me to links that helped to explain the concept... except, those links were mostly just confusing. And unfortunately, my brain interpreted them as, "you are deficient, you're inability to regulate is your fault." Which didn't help. I honestly don't know if those explanations actually implied that, but it's what it felt like. Maybe because I didn't understand what they were saying.

Then... recently I returned to work, full time. And an interesting, if sucky, thing happened. I was fine at work, I could joke, I could laugh and have fun with coworkers and feel empathy for my patients and basically function somewhat like a typical human being in what I imagine is a healthy fashion. But as soon as I left work and went home, I had no energy left to keep the intrusive memories and emotions in check. And I would immediately start to crash. Spiraling down the rabbit hole of all those horrible memories. Nothing had specifically triggered them, it's just I ran out of spoons and they took over. I'd used up all my spoons at work.

Obviously, I'd overestimated my ability to return to full time work, but also it felt like there was an insight here. And it came down to my emotional bandwidth. If I had enough emotional energy, enough spoons, then minor triggers that normally would have lead me back down that lovely negative spiral, wouldn't actually set me off, and I could continue to function. And this was the neat part, I could continue to function without having all my walls slam down and turn everything numb. But, if I run out of that energy, if I run out of those spoons, then any little thing can set me down that self destructive spiral.

And the more I've thought about this, the more I think this is what people mean when they talk about emotional regulation. That most people have a large fount of this emotional energy to buffer against the extremes. And thus can handle day to day joys, stresses and hurtful things without completely falling apart. If this is the case then I guess I've developed some emotional regulation after all, though it's limited.

But why is it so limited? Why didn't I have any before? And the more I look at it. I see it in terms of bandwidth, energy, and/or spoons. Before, when I was having to live in survival mode, all of my emotional energy was being used to just survive. I was constantly in fight or flight. There was no energy to spare for nuance. My bandwidth was incredibly limited because so much of it was taken up with just surviving from one day to the next, with constant vigilance. But when we are no longer in those situations, and just as importantly, when we are not constantly flashing back to those situations, we start to have that bandwidth become available for the nuance. We can start feeling things in between because we have the energy to do so. It's no longer entirely about survive or die.

And that's the worst part about flashbacks. Even though I'm no longer in that constant life or death situation, those flashbacks have me believing I am. And contrary to popular media's depiction of flashbacks, most of the time it's not getting stuck in a living visual memory of an event. No, the vast majority of those flashbacks are emotional flashbacks. Getting stuck in the feelings of the event, the feelings I couldn't suppress anymore, the constant feeling of being in danger, of having my life, my very existence threatened, which brings on the constant sense of danger, of fight or flight. Which means, no emotional energy for anything else, except the extremes. Everything in my life currently can be perfectly fine, safe, wonderful even. But if I'm stuck in an emotional flashback, none of the current circumstances matter, because I'm emotionally back in survival mode, feeling constantly threatened, trying to survive, trying to decide if I need to fight or run. And if I'm stuck there... then there isn't any emotional energy left for anything else.

The really effing sucky part, is that often I don't know I'm in an emotional flashback until after it's gone away, and I can see looking back that how I was feeling didn't fit at all with what was actually happening at the time. I reacted to an outside observer in a rather extreme, or worse in a completely irrational manner. But then when I'm in the middle of it, I guess it's understandable that I have a hard time recognizing it, as all my energy is directed towards surviving, towards keeping the pain and my fears at bay.

So maybe emotional regulation is just having enough emotional energy to filter the experiences you're having into a much more nuanced pattern, rather than having to sort things into binary extremes of bad, not bad. And if that's the case, then maybe, just maybe, I am healing, because I'm starting to free up some of my bandwidth to start sorting out the nuances... even if I can't quite identify what those nuances are yet.

#trans #transgender #lgbt+#lgbtqia #lgbt #trans kids #childhood trauma #complex ptsd #trauma #family #Emotional regulation #mental health #coping #emotional flashbacks #flashbacks #emotional energy #emotional bandwidth #lgbtqia+#queer

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smgsecretsanta · 3 months

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A gift from @galaxyzone to @qusok!!!!

Text under the cut

A/N: I really liked the request for a summer camp fanfic, so I thought I would give that a go! Just a disclaimer that I haven’t written fanfiction in years, but I am very confident in my writing ability, so I hope you enjoy it! Also, this story is essentially a Summer Camp AU and is not tied to the canon game, as the characters are all about the same ages (except Charlie) instead of there being like a 6-year age gap between Erin and Kate, for instance. In this story, Jamie & Erin are 14 while Kate & Mark are 16. I also may have incorporated some of my headcanons about the characters, as well as some headcanons I’ve seen from other people because I liked them! Oh, I also have included a little easter egg referencing The Quarry if anyone happens to catch it. It’s very subtle but let me know if you find it! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy it! <3

Jamie always hated these things. The stupid orientations on the first day of camp where the adults go over the rules & regulations, give sleeping arrangements, discuss the “itinerary” of activities instead of actually doing said activities, talk about the code of conduct, etc, etc. It was already hard enough for any teenager to sit still for a prolonged period of time and listen attentively while monotone adults droned on and on, let alone a teenager who already has difficulties with attention regulation such as Jamie. As the counselor moved on to talking about how meals would work, Jamie huffed and slouched even lower in her chair.

As she scanned the room, she recognized only 2 familiar faces. One was a man, one of the counselors, who was sitting up at the front with the other counselors, flipping through a stack of papers. Charlie was the director of activities, which Jamie considered a joke since she was pretty sure the man would lose his own head if it wasn’t already screwed on. Actually, Jamie questioned if it was even screwed on tight enough, or possibly even a little too tight. That would explain his constant stress responses to every little hiccup he encounters. The other face Jamie recognized belonged to a boy, another camper whom Jamie knew from both her previous 2 years at camp. He was wearing a well-loved gray hoodie and had his favorite camera strapped around his neck. During their first year at camp together, Jamie and Mark didn’t know each other too well. Jamie was extroverted and liked socializing and getting into trouble with the other kids, whereas Mark was more introverted and preferred keeping to himself and his camera. However, all of the kids that Jamie had hung out with during her first year did not attend camp the following year, leaving Jamie to make new friends. One of the only faces she recognized was Mark’s, so she decided to adopt him as her designated introvert, as many extroverts like to do. Even though they were different, the two of them got along pretty well and Jamie was happy to see that he was back.

Just then, the girl sitting next to Mark leaned over and whispered something to him. She had auburn hair and was wearing a beanie that looked almost as well-loved as Mark’s hoodie. Jamie didn’t recognize her. Was she someone Mark knew from school? Jamie shrugged and resumed slouching in her chair. She bent her head back, looking up at the ceiling, and heaved a sigh. These stupid things always dragged on.

After the orientation finally ended, Jamie quickly found her cabin and was surprised to already find another girl inside. She didn’t notice Jamie come in, she had her back turned towards the door and was rummaging inside her bag.

“Hey,” Jamie gently greeted the girl to get her attention.

“Oh!” The girl spun around, holding something in her hand. She greeted Jamie back with a small wave, “Hi.”

The girl was wearing a yellow t-shirt over a black long-sleeved shirt and a pair of headphones around her neck.

“I’m Jamie,” Jamie stuck her hand out for the girl to shake.

“Erin,” The girl replied as she softly took Jamie’s hand and gave it a gentle shake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Erin.”

“You too,” Erin gave Jamie a soft smile.

Their hands lingered a little longer than normal, still awkwardly and slowly shaking for a good couple of seconds before Jamie chuckled and retracted her hand.

“What were you looking for in your bag? You forget something?”

“Oh, no, I was looking for this,” Erin held up a blue inhaler. “There’s probably a lot of dust and stuff at camp, so I wanted to make sure it was accessible, because the last time I had an attack and didn’t have it on me, it was— well,” She stopped herself short. “I’m sorry, that’s probably too much information, i-it just helps me breathe.”

“You’re good,” Jamie gave a small, amused chuckle. “I don’t mind, I like learning things about people. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t care.”

“Oh, well that’s a relief,” Erin plopped down on her chosen bed as Jamie set her bag on the other bed and started to unpack. “I’m just so used to people getting annoyed with me for sharing too much.”

“Those people are lame,” Jamie said in such a blunt tone that caught Erin off-guard, but in a good way. She wasn’t used to other people immediately having her back in such a confident manner like the one Jamie exudes.

“Yeah,” Erin giggled. “I guess so.”

“Go ahead, say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say, ‘those people are lame.’ It’ll make you feel good, promise.”

“…Will it?”

“As someone who’s been saying it practically my whole life, yes. I guarantee.”

“O-okay… Those people are lame?”

Jamie stopped rummaging in her bag and turned to Erin.

“Mmm, no. Like you mean it.”

“But what if I don’t mean it?”

“Come onn, just say it.”

“Okay, those people are lame…”

“Louder.”

Erin looked around, unsure of herself, as she was a much more quiet and reserved person than Jamie was. It would appear that Jamie had found her designated adopted introvert for the summer.

“I won’t judge you,” Jamie encouraged her. “In fact, I’ll think you’re pretty cool. Go ahead, let it out.”

“Alright… Those people are lame.”

“One more time.”

“Those people are lame!”

Jamie chuckled, “Pretty good, does that feel better?”

“A little,” Erin admitted with a sheepish smile, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Good! Sometimes you gotta let that stuff out instead of letting it bottle up, y’know?” Jamie finished unpacking most of her stuff before she turned back towards Erin. “You wanna go look around?”

Erin looked up at her, “Don’t you still have to finish unpacking?”

“Eh, that stuff can wait, I wanna go see everything. Wanna join me? It’ll be fun!”

Erin, wanting Jamie to continue to think she was cool, shrugged and placed aside the book that she had gotten out.

“Sure, I suppose. Where are we going?”

“Anywhere! I wanna see what kind of activities they have set up.”

Jamie headed for the cabin door and Erin followed after her, inhaler in her pocket and headphones still around her neck.

At another section of the camp, Mark sat on a bench and pointed his camera at a small family of ducks floating in the lake across from him. As one of the ducks popped back up from the water and shook its head, Mark clicked his camera and took a couple of quick photos. After a short succession of shots, he took the camera away from his eye and reviewed them, determining which ones to keep. As he clicked through them, the auburn-haired girl strolled up to him.

“Get anything good?” She asked him.

“Just some trees and ducks,” He turned the camera screen to show her his favorite from the bunch, which was a snap of the duck shaking off the water.

“Looks good! Is that a new camera?”

“My mom got it for me for my birthday. She gave it to me a little early so I could have it at camp.”

“That was sweet. How is your mom?”

“She’s good. She says hi.”

“Ah, well, tell her I say hi back! You know… when you get back home, of course…” She trailed off before letting out a sigh as she sat next to him. Mark chuckled and turned towards her.

“For sure. You all unpacked?” He shut his camera off and put it back in his camera bag.

“Yup! Ah, so, Mark… I—”

“I’m really glad you could come along this summer, Kate. It’s a lot of fun and I’m pretty excited to finally share it with you.”

Kate gave him a soft smile, “Me too, Mark. I’m really happy we get to have a fun summer together. There’s just, um…” Kate looked at her hands, picking at the skin around her fingernails.

“Who knows, maybe if you enjoy it just as much as I do, we can come back next year and be counselors or something.”

“I thought you had to be eighteen to be a counselor.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re probably right. I just assumed that because sixteen was the cutoff for campers, that meant that seventeen was the eligible age for counselors. Although maybe there’s a junior counselor option? I don’t know, it was just a thought.”

Kate gave him another warm smile, “Well, you should definitely look into it, I think that would be really great for you. Maybe you could teach these kids about photography!”

“You think I could?”

“I don’t see why not. You’re a really good photographer, Mark.”

Mark couldn’t help but blush a little. “Thanks, Kate. Maybe you could teach them about journalism or something!”

Kate smiled at him again, although this time it was more of a sad smile. He was so excited and she was so happy to see him thinking about the future, especially since the Mark she’s used to usually just lets life happen. How was she supposed to tell him about her mother’s new job and about how it would take her away from him?

“Mark, I have to tell you about something—”

“Hey, Mark!” Kate was cut off by Jamie, who was waving and walking up to them with Erin at her side.

“Hey, Jamie, good to see you again!” Mark stood up and caught Jamie slightly off-guard with a hug.

“Oh, hey, yeah, you too!” She patted his back before they let go.

Mark, realizing he had to make introductions, awkwardly gestured to Kate, “This is Kate, we go to school together. She’s that friend I told you about last year.” He then turned to Kate and gestured towards Jamie, “Kate, this is Jamie, she was my friend last year at camp.”

Kate stood up and shook Jamie’s hand, “Nice to meet you, Jamie.”

“You too. Mark told me a lot about you last year. In fact, sometimes it seemed like he wouldn’t shut up about you.”

Kate looked at Mark, who opened his mouth to object, clearly blushing. “Really?”

“I— I wouldn’t say I wouldn’t shut up about you, that’s… an over-exaggeration, I just had a lot to say about… school, and… stuff…”

“Uh huh,” Kate smirked before turning back to Jamie. “Well he told me a good bit about you too, he said he had a lot of fun last year.” Kate then turned to Erin, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Erin.” Erin awkwardly lifted her hand, unsure of whether or not she should hold it out for Kate to shake. When Kate extended her own hand, Erin clumsily took it and gave it a small shake. “I’m just… Jamie’s roommate. Or, uh, cabinmate,” she said before she awkwardly folded her arms just so she could have somewhere to put her hands, which she was suddenly overly conscious of.

“I’m taking her around, showing her all of my favorite spots, telling her which places to stay away from, et cetera,” Jamie jumped in, taking the attention and pressure off of Erin.

“Did you show her the waterfall?” Mark asked.

Kate echoed, “Waterfall?”

“There’s this little lake that we all used to go swimming in, and above it there’s this stream that has a mini waterfall flowing into it.”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” Jamie answered. “I was actually heading that way now when I saw you guys. You… wanna join us?”

“Sure! Kate, you wanna go?”

Kate hesitated. She knew that she shouldn’t put off what she needed to tell him, but she also knew that she technically had all summer. She figured it was best to not dump it on him right away, so she said, “Sure, that sounds like fun.”

“Alrighty, campers, let’s goo!” Jamie started leading the way, Erin right behind her, and Mark and Kate behind Erin.

When the four of them made it to the waterfall, they laughed and talked about everything they thought of, simply having fun getting to know each other. They splashed around in the water a bit, but Mark was resistant to getting his favorite hoodie wet while Erin was protective of her headphones, not wanting them to get ruined. They hung out for about an hour or so before a counselor came looking for them.

Later that night, after dinner, Kate knocked on Mark’s cabin door just as he was finishing getting unpacked. Because the doors had mesh windows on them, Mark could see Kate standing outside under the glow of the lantern that was mounted on the outside wall.

“Come in, Kate!” Mark called to Kate, and she opened the door to let herself in. Mark was organizing his camera bag for what Kate could only guess was maybe the fiftieth time since they got to camp that day. Mark’s roommate was sitting on his own bed on the farther side of the cabin, listening intently to something on his phone with earbuds in his ears. “Hey,” Mark greeted Kate, “What’s up?”

“Hey, Mark, do you have a minute?”

“Luckily I just finished unpacking, so yeah! Why?”

Kate shrugged, “Wanna go on a walk? It’s really nice out tonight.”

“Sure,” Mark finished crewing a lens on his camera. “Should I bring my camera?”

“I don’t know how good the lighting is here at nighttime.”

Mark looked down at his camera, contemplating what Kate said. “Good point,” he said as he put his camera back in its bag and zipped it shut. “Okay, let’s go!” Mark grabbed his gray hoodie and wrapped it around himself, zipping it up, before following Kate towards the door. Before leaving, Mark turned to his roommate and said, “I’ll be back, man.”

His roommate gave him a small thumbs up as an acknowledgment before Mark followed Kate outside and let the door swing close behind them.

“Where to, m’lady?” Mark asked Kate, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Anywhere, really, I just thought it’d be nice to look at the stars. It’s so much easier to see them here than back in the city.”

Mark followed Kate’s gaze up towards the sky, where he could indeed see more stars than he had ever seen back in Chicago. “Think you can recognize any constellations?”

Kate chuckled, “No, I’m not really familiar with any constellations.”

“You’re not?”

“No, not really. What makes you think I am?” Her tone wasn’t snappy at all, she was genuinely curious as to why he thought that about her.

Mark shrugged, “I dunno, I just thought since you’re into crystals, that you would be into all of that kind of stuff.” Mark gave her a sheepish smile, which Kate returned.

“Nah, not really my thing. I do like astrology and studying the zodiac signs, but I’m not really a constellations girl.”

Mark let out a chuckle and said, “Fair enough.”

The two of them walked in silence a bit longer, appreciating the night sky and the sounds of the crickets around them. They eventually made it to a little hiking trail that led away from the main camp. As they started walking down the trail, Kate looked at Mark, who was still admiring the night sky. Kate smiled to herself. She was going to miss this big dork a lot.

“Mark, I kinda have to tell you something.”

Mark looked back to Kate. “What’s up?”

“Well, firstly, nothing is wrong,” Kate reassured, not realizing how strange of a statement that was to start off with until Mark gave her a weird look.

“O-okay? Is everything ok?”

Kate was suddenly very aware of the cool breeze that was blowing through the trees around them.

“Y-yeah,” Kate let out a shiver. “Everything is f-fine.”

Mark, noticing Kate shivering, immediately unzipped his jacket and, without saying anything, removed it from himself and wrapped it around Kate’s shoulders. She gave him a sweet, grateful look before graciously taking it and putting her arms through the sleeves. What was she ever going to do without this big meatball? Once Kate had the hoodie on, Mark wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him so she could share his body warmth. Kate had always been one of those people who got cold pretty easily, and Mark was always more than happy to warm her up.

“What did you wanna talk about?” He asked.

“S-so,” Kate let out one last shiver before relaxing into his embrace. “You know how I told you my mom was looking for a new job?”

“Yeah, she wanted better pay and a better work environment, right?”

“Right… Yeah, so… She, uh, she found one.”

“Oh yeah? That’s great!” Mark smiled at Kate, who still looked nervous, which seemed strange to Mark considering the good news she just shared. “So how come you don’t seem happy?”

“The job is in Georgia.”

Mark stopped walking and loosened his embrace on Kate.

“What?”

“The job is located in Georgia, which means… We have to move,” Kate gave him a sad look. Mark dropped his arm and turned to face Kate fully.

“You’re moving?” Mark searched Kate’s face, looking for some type of indicator that there was hopefully some good news to balance out the idea of them having to split up. “When?”

“At the end of the summer. When we get back home, I basically have to start packing right away. Our flight is August 28th.”

Mark felt like someone had just jabbed a needle through his chest.

“So…” He started, trying to wrap his head around what he was hearing. “What does this mean, then? For us?”

“It, well… It means we have to break up,” Kate’s voice hitched as she said that. She hated the idea of them having to break up, but she hated the idea of a long-distance relationship just as much. “I’ve never done long-distance before, and to be honest, I don’t think I could handle it. I just think it would be even more painful than just being friends, which I don’t wanna do either, I want to be with you, I just… I don’t have a choice. Not until I’m an adult with my own job and can stand on my own feet.”

“You have a job.”

“I mean a real job, one that pays an actual living wage.”

Mark looked down at the ground, not wanting her to see the pain on his face. Mark was one of those people who hated the feeling of sadness so much that he would rather feel anything else, even if it was anger. To him, it was easier to be angry than it was to be sad. It was like an unhealthy coping mechanism designed to suppress his feelings rather than regulate them.

“Is this why you came to camp with me this year? Because you felt bad that you’ll have to leave me?”

“No, Mark, I wanted us to have a good summer before I have to go! I didn’t want to dump it on you right before we leave, which is also why I thought I should tell you now instead of at the end of summer. That way, I figured we could just focus on having a good time before, y’know…” Kate trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.

“Kate, how am I supposed to have a good time when I know that it’s going to end when we go back home?”

“Because we can make the most of it, you know, knowing that it’s… our last few months together. We can go all out— water balloon fights, hiking, scavenger hunts, swimming, all that stuff!”

“But knowing that you’re going to leave doesn’t make me wanna do that stuff, it makes me just want to reverse time or find a way to keep you here. Or, well— not keep you here, at camp, but I mean— like, keep you in Chicago. With me.”

Kate gave him another sad look, not entirely knowing what to say. It wasn’t her choice to leave him, she very much wanted the opposite, but her mom needed this new job to better make ends meet.

“I’m sorry, Mark, I wish I had a choice. You know how much my mom needs this job.”

Mark sighed, feeling his anger wash away as soon as he looked into her eyes. From just one glance, he could instantly tell just how much this was tearing her apart. That was the thing about Kate’s eyes— they always did the best job at portraying her inner thoughts and feelings, even more so than her words sometimes. That was one reason she often wore sunglasses when she could— they allowed her to be mysterious whenever she was around people she didn’t fully feel comfortable letting in. Mark, however, was not someone she felt the need to keep a guard up around.

“I’m sorry, too,” Mark took Kate’s hands. “You’re right, I know that, and I know you don’t have a choice, I just…” Mark sighed again. “Tell me there’s a chance that it’s not goodbye forever?”

“Oh, definitely not, you know I couldn’t do that,” Kate pulled her right hand free and used it to cup Mark’s face.

Mark looked back down at the ground, feeling slightly overpowered by the emotion glistening in Kate’s eyes, afraid that he would fully break if he were to continue looking into them; but it was too late. A tear started rolling down his cheek, which Kate promptly wiped away upon feeling it reach her fingertips.

“Hey,” Kate said softly. “We still have all summer before we have to worry about it. Let’s have fun, okay? I want you to show me everything you love here, like Jamie was doing with Erin. I want to see all your favorite spots, I want to do your favorite activities, I want to do dumb, reckless teenager stuff before we have to deal with boring, shitty adult stuff. Can we please do that?”

Mark nodded, “Yeah, of course.”

Wanting to ease the tension a little, Kate joked, “Good, because I’m really looking forward to crushing your ass in a water balloon fight.”

Mark chuckled. “You wish,” he said.

“Is that a challenge? Alright, buster, well we’ll just see who crushes who then, won’t we?” Kate gave him a playful kiss, which Mark quickly melted into, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. The two of them deepened the kiss, not wanting to let each other go. They could have stayed like that for hours if it weren’t for their need to break for air. When they finally parted lips, they kept their faces close together and leaned their foreheads together. They held that position for a good minute or so, feeling more connected than they ever had before. Neither of them was sure what they would do without the other, but they both figured they would put that thought off for as long as possible. For now, they just wanted to be present together, keeping company in each other’s warm embrace.

Back at the cabins, Jamie and Erin were chilling in their respective beds. Erin was reading a book, while Jamie played with a baseball, bored out of her mind. She suddenly looked over at Erin, who was still wearing her headphones around her neck.

“I’m bored,” Jamie said, getting Erin’s attention. “Do you wanna do something?”

Erin, sensing that Jamie wanted her full attention, placed a bookmark in her novel. “Like what?” She asked.

Jamie pondered before suggesting, “I kinda wanna go back to that lake. You feel like swimming?”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I’m not much of a swimmer.”

“Do you know how?”

“I do, I just… don’t do it very often.”

“Well, why not do it now? Did you pack a swimsuit?”

Erin wasn’t sure why, but she felt herself blushing at the question. Erin wasn’t the most comfortable person in swimming attire, especially not around someone she just met, and especially not around someone as intriguing and alluring as Jamie was.

“I-I, well, I— I mean, I did, but—” Erin stuttered.

“Okay!” Jamie popped off her bed. “Then let’s go!”

“Oh, uh, r-right now?”

“Yes, silly, that’s why I asked if you wanted to do something,” Jamie said in a light-hearted tone to let Erin know she was joking and not actually making fun of her.

“Oh, o-okay, sure!” Always the people-pleaser, Erin put her book aside and got up to get her swimsuit.

Jamie took a quick moment as she observed Erin rummaging through her bag. There was something adorable and charming about Erin’s awkwardness that Jamie couldn’t really explain. Jamie had been aware of her attraction to girls for a while now, but this attraction was especially interesting to Jamie because Erin wasn’t typically her type. She was used to being attracted by the girls who exuded even more confidence than Jamie did, but there was something about Erin’s soft and caring nature that Jamie couldn’t help but be drawn in by. Though Erin likely saw herself as an open book, she was somewhat of a mystery to Jamie, who couldn’t wait to learn more about her.

Once the girls both had their swimsuits on underneath their camp clothes, they started on their way back to the lake. They walked in silence for a few minutes, appreciating the nighttime ambiance, before Jamie noticed that Erin still had her headphones around her neck even though they were going to go swimming.

“Hey, can I ask you about something?” Jamie asked.

“Sure.”

“What are those headphones for? The ones you’re always wearing?”

“Oh,” Erin blushed as she looked down at said headphones, not even realizing she was still wearing them. “I guess I just get so used to having them on me, sometimes I forget to take them off when I don’t need them.”

“Have you ever fallen asleep with them on?”

“No…” Erin chuckled before a realization hit her. “Wait, yes…”

Now Jamie chuckled. “Yes?”

“Yeah, I forgot that one time I— well, it’s kind of embarrassing…” Erin trailed off.

“You can tell me,” Jamie reassured, “I won’t judge you. Trust me, I’ve heard plenty of crazy stuff from plenty of people, nothing really fazes me anymore.” Jamie and Erin both chuckled.

“Well, sometimes I use them for noise canceling. You know, to drone out overwhelming noise?”

“Yeah, lots of people like noise-canceling headphones.”

“Right, and, well… One night I heard… some people arguing and it just got to be a little too much for me, so I put them on and curled up in my bed, trying to ignore it, and I… eventually just fell asleep,” Erin let out a sheepish chuckle, not sure if she was sounding dumb or crazy or both.

“Ah, I’m sorry those people were arguing so much,” Jamie frowned.

“It’s okay, I’m used to it.”

From Erin’s demeanor and tone of voice, Jamie could sense that the arguing wasn’t just annoying neighbors, but likely possibly coming from somewhere within the same house that she had been in. Not wanting her to feel uncomfortable, Jamie changed the subject.

“So, what do you wanna do when you grow up?”

“Me? Oh, I don’t know…” Erin pondered the question before replying, “Well, I like doing sound editing.”

“What does that entail?”

“Sound editing? Well, it’s kind of like how movie editors choose certain sound effects for their scene, or how they’ll balance their channels so that the music doesn’t overpower the dialogue or vice versa. I’ve been doing it for a little while by making edits and things, but I’m just getting into doing it for shows. This past year, I helped with the sound design for a show that the theatre department put on at my school. It was really fun, and they said they’re always in need of more tech people, because, y’know, most kids want to do acting, so I said that sounded great, and…” Erin suddenly realized she was probably rambling. Feeling self-conscious, she quickly finished her thought, “Anyway, yeah, sound design! I like it,” she let out another sheepish chuckle.

“That sounds like a lot of fun,” Jamie smiled at her genuinely, allowing Erin to relax the tension she hadn’t realized she was holding. “I’m glad you’ve already found something you’re so passionate about, not everybody has something like that.”

“What about you?”

“Nah, not really. I kinda like art but I have no idea what I’d do with it, you know?”

“Well,” Erin started, “I think the thing about art, is you can do anything you want with it, really. What kind of art do you like?”

“I dunno… I like colors.”

“Have you thought about technical theatre at all? Maybe you could do lighting design. They use colors all the time, depending on the mood and atmosphere of the scene.”

“I hadn’t really thought about that, no. Maybe I’ll look into it,” Jamie smiled at Erin, who returned the smile.

When they finally reached the lake, Jamie stood up on a rock that looked much too slippery to Erin.

“Careful, Jamie!”

Jamie chuckled, “I’m fine, don’t worry.” She looked at Erin, who looked even more captivating under the moonlight shining through the trees. “You know, you’re cute when you worry about my well-being like that.”

“I just don’t want you to—” Erin cut herself off, realizing what Jamie had just said. “Wait, cute?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Jamie said, not backing down from her very true observation regarding Erin’s adorableness.

Erin’s cheeks suddenly felt very hot. “I— I don’t—” Erin stuttered, hoping that it was too dark for Jamie to see just how red her face had turned. “I don’t know what you’re—” Unsure of what to do with her body, Erin awkwardly shifted her feet, accidentally stepping on one of the wet rocks. “Oh!”

Erin suddenly slipped and stumbled forwards, into Jamie’s readied arms.

“Whoa! You okay there?” Jamie chuckled as she helped Erin get reoriented on her feet.

“Oh, y-yeah, thanks…” Erin started blushing even more, which she hadn’t even thought was possible. “Can I ask you something now?”

“Of course,” Jamie replied as she sat down on one of the drier rocks. Erin slowly followed suit, making sure to check that the rock was dry before sitting on it. When she was seated, she let out a small huff.

“How are you so…” Erin trailed, searching for the right word.

“Awesome?”

“Cool. I mean, like— chill.”

“You mean how am I so confident?”

“Y-yeah, I— guess that’s the word I was looking for.” Erin smiled sheepishly.

Jamie shrugged, “I don’t know, I guess I just learned how to fake it really well.”

“You mean, you… don’t actually feel confident?”

“Well, no, I do— but I didn’t always. I guess my dad kinda helped me with that. He’s an actor, so I guess it kind of runs in the family… even though I’m adopted,” Jamie cocked an eyebrow, realizing how silly it sounded for her to have inherited something from someone she wasn’t biologically related to. It was the first time that day that Erin had noticed Jamie double-guessing something she said, which made her seem a lot more relatable than she originally did.

Erin smiled at her. “That still makes sense, though, if he taught you.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Jamie returned the smile.

They both made direct eye contact for the first time that day and instantly found themselves looking into each other’s eyes for longer than anticipated. Neither of them could quite place their finger on just what exactly was so intriguing to them about the other person, but they were both experiencing the same butterflies and racing heartbeat. They weren’t sure what gravitational force was at play when they found themselves slowly leaning in, suddenly much closer to each other.

Jamie broke the silence, “Am I crazy, or do you feel something too?”

“I-I don’t know, I mean… I feel— something, I just— it’s new to me,” Erin admitted, having little to no experience with crushes or the like.

Jamie smiled at her. “It’s new to everyone at some point. I can help show you if you want,” Jamie said, not wanting Erin to feel pressured.

Erin blushed again. The idea sounded so daunting to Erin, but in a completely amazing and incredibly tempting way. She had never received this type of attention before and she wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Not knowing how to respond, Erin simply nodded.

“Okay, only if you’re sure though,” Jamie reassured.

“Y-yeah, sure, I’m sure,” Erin stuttered, causing Jamie to emit a small chuckle.

Jamie looked back into Erin’s eyes, ensuring that she was good, before finally closing the gap and tenderly touching her lips to Erin’s. Erin quickly leaned into it, giving Jamie the greenlight to deepen the kiss on her end as well. Her hands swiftly moved to Erin’s face, placing each palm on a — still very red — cheek. Erin placed her hands on Jamie’s upper arms, not completely sure about what to do with them. The two of them both leaned into the kiss more, but Erin must have leaned in a little too far because she suddenly slipped off the rock she was sitting on and plopped onto the ground, breaking the kiss and catching Jamie off-guard.

“Oof,” Erin grunted as she dropped to the ground.

“Oh, are you okay?” Jamie asked with a hint of amusement in her tone.

“Ugh, yeah… I should have figured that would happen to me,” Erin said, chuckling at her own misfortune. Jamie joined in her giggling, slipping off of her rock and joining Erin on the ground.

“Maybe we can try again later, when we’re in a drier environment,” Jamie suggested.

Erin perked back up. “Y-yeah, that would be— great. Maybe there’ll be fewer rocks, too,” she joked, and the two of them giggled some more.

“Well,” Jamie said, leaning back on her hands and looking up at the night sky, “Maybe for now, we can just admire the stars and listen to the crickets.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Erin smiled as she joined Jamie in looking at the sky. “It’s so beautiful here. You can’t see the stars anywhere near this well back in the city.”

Jamie looked at her. “What city are you from?”

“Chicago.”

“Dude, no way, that’s where I’m from too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! We should definitely keep in touch after camp is over. If you want to, of course.”

Erin giggled, “Yeah, I think I’d love to.”

The two of them smiled at each other, both even more excited for the summer they were about to have than they originally were. After a moment, they turned their gazes back to the clear night sky.

Jamie pointed up at something she saw. “Is that a shooting star?”

Erin looked at where she was pointing and squinted before giggling. “No, I think that’s just a plane.”

“Oh,” Jamie said, disappointed, as she put her hand back down on the ground behind her. “Can’t believe I was just about to make a wish on a plane,” Jamie joked, earning an even heartier giggle from Erin, which of course made Jamie smile.

The two of them sat in quiet for a moment before Erin asked, “So, uh… Were we going to go swimming? I mean, like, did you still want to?”

‘Yeah, for sure, I mean… if you want to,” Jamie looked at Erin, who returned the gaze.

Erin shrugged, “I dunno, I mean… I’m pretty good just looking at the stars, but I don’t know about you.”

Jamie smiled. “I’m good with that too.”

Erin smiled back at her. “Cool,” she said before catching Jamie’s eye.

They both leaned in and shared another gentle kiss before pulling back, Erin feeling her cheeks get flushed once again. After a moment, they both gazed back up at the twinkling stars and sat there for a good while, simply enjoying each other’s company and the atmosphere around them.

#smg secret santa #supermassive games #the devil in me #kate wilder #mark nestor #markate #erin keenan #jamie tiergan #jerin

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