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ally-127 · 4 years

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Can I request study date with mingyu at the library but your skirt is a little to short for his liking and then... I’ll let you decide lmao

study date

pairing : mingyu x reader ( college!AU ) word count : 2.5k warnings : public sex; exhibitionism; teasing; degradation; fingering; orgasm denial; music : ‘flow’ by monsta x a/n : i added some fluffy, slice of life at the start because who would i be without that

it was sunny out that day, rays of golden sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains of your bedroom. lively birds chirped outside your window, accompanied by the hustle and bustle down the streets of seoul.

it was a nice day to have plans, which was how you quickly scrambled for your phone to text mingyu in order to make some in the first place.

study date at the library?

he replied you less than a minute later.

see you at 12 :)

shoving a thick block of a textbook for constitutional law into your tote bag along with your laptop and some loose sheets of lined paper, you set the bag down in front of your door before sorting through your dresser for something loose and light to wear.

to your surprise, you managed to find a dress in the small expanse of your drawers. it was made of black satin and had long, thin strings all over the place. as you put it on with a slight struggle, you realised that the dress had a slight cowl neckline in the front and backless, tied together by a ribbon just between your shoulder blades.

this resulted in you discarding your bra from underneath. it was a daring move, considering how thin the material is, but you were running out of time and couldn’t be bothered to find another outfit. besides, you also wanted to give mingyu a little tease just for the kicks.

after quickly lacing up your favourite pair of matching black low-cut converses, you were out the door in less than five minutes.

the walk to the library was not as pleasant as you had expected it to be. the weather was warmer than usual. it was a sign of spring transitioning into summer.

the midday, sizzling heat and the humid air drew perspiration from your skin.

by the time you’d reached the designated location, you were covered in light sheen of sweat and your hair was pulled up into a mess of a bun on the top of your head.

at least your mascara and eyeliner were waterproof.

the library was packed with people, mostly students. their heads were all bent, almost to ninety degrees, in focused silence. there were hushed murmurs here and there, but other than that the place was mostly quiet.

as it should be.

you pushed your sunglasses up into your hair, your eyes scanning the area to look for a particularly tall boy with particularly sharp canines and a particularly sweet smile.

“looking for me?” a low voice asked from behind you.

you jumped, startled.

mingyu stood in front of you, clad in a classic black t-shirt and light-washed, ripped jeans. his hair, the colour of milk chocolate, was swept away from his face. those strands looked incredibly soft you were one step away from asking what his shampoo and conditioner were.

the heat you were now feeling was clearly not from the weather as his eyes, akin to the colour of his hair, raked down your body.

you brushed away the momentary burn of exhilaration you felt from his stare, deciding to focus on the smile that tugged by his lips.

he gave you a light kiss on the lips as a form of greeting. you offered him a bright smile in return. no words were exchanged between you two then.

that was, until you began to receive weird looks from those who occupied the tables closest to the entrance for lingering there

“come on,” you took his arm. “let’s find a place to sit.”

you two found a spot by the panelled windows that overlooked the city ahead. cars, skyscrapers and pedestrians were splashed out before you like an urban art piece.

courtesy of the sun, shadows in the shape of the grids formed on the wooden desk. this tiny detail made the entire spot an even more pleasing sight to see.

“pretty, huh?” mingyu said under his breath.

you nodded.

a minute later, you had all your materials scattered across your workspace. your laptop sat the furthest away, the presentation slides from your lecture last week on full screen for reference and your bulky textbook right under your nose.

mingyu busied himself with reading a copy of jane austen’s pride and prejudice. his space, in comparison to yours, was looking rather desolate.

“aside from being a hopeless romantic,” you mused, eyeing the book in his hand. “do you ever, you know, study?”

“already did this morning,” he murmured without looking up. he sat further back from the desk, an ankle crossed over a knee. “finished most of the syllabus covered so far. even went the extra mile to skim through the next chapter.”

“productive,” you couldn’t help the sarcasm as averted your eyes back to your book and paper, uncapping the pen to begin writing.

as time went by, you realised that mingyu was here literally only to accompany you. he didn’t have anything to do aside from indulging himself in elizabeth bennet and mr. darcy. you grinned to yourself at the fact, your heart taking massive leap in your chest.

“what’re you smiling at?” he peered past your shoulder at what you were working on. “is constitutional law that fun?”

“it’s nothing,” you waved him off.

mingyu shifted his chair forward so he was closer to you. you felt strong arms wrap around your bare shoulders and his chin resting on your collarbone.

“it’s not nothing,” his book dangled from his hand as he clasped them by your neck.

“i’m just happy,” you put your pen down. “that you’re here with me.”

“i can say the same,” his chin moved on your shoulder as he spoke. “i missed you.”

“it’s been three days,” you murmured.

“yeah, well,” he said, trailing off into a daydream. “it’s three days too long.”

“patience is a virtue,” you gave him a swift glance from the side of your eye.

“i’ll keep that in mind,” he smirked at you and now you knew you probably have said the wrong thing.

sooner or later he’d use this against you.

you resumed writing, mingyu remaining in his position with his arms enveloped around you while he peeked at your notes and textbook.

“i’m not illiterate but i can’t seem to understand a single word you’re writing,” you saw him frown in confusion in your peripheral vision as he read the information you were jotting down on paper.

“i don’t blame you,” you murmured, a mild headache beginning to form in your temples.

you sighed as you noticed one of your points about the freedom of speech needed further elaboration.

you were sure this library contained some sort of reference in the legal section that you could use. so you tapped on mingyu’s arm, silently asking him to move so you could stand up and look for it.

“where are you going?” he looked up at you.

in this close proximity, mingyu could see the slight outline of your nipples through the thin material of your dress. the buds were hardened in response to the air conditioner being blasted in this library.

you weren’t wearing a bra today.

he bit his lip, feeling himself slowly grow rigid in his pants. he silently cursed himself for reacting like a preteen who had just seen tits for the first time.

“to the law section,” you replied.

mingyu kept his eyes on you. from a lower angle, he was able discern how awfully short the skirt of your dress was and from the way you walked so carelessly it seemed like you didn’t notice it at all. the shape of your ass was highlighted even more so now, the end of your dress teasing the top most part of your thighs.

if you had just lifted your leg slightly, whatever you were wearing underneath would be exposed to the naked eye. if you were even wearing any.

he inhaled sharply, unsure on what to do with his concupiscent thoughts. he watched you disappear as you wandered further down the hall of the library.

your footsteps were light on the ground as you browsed through the different shelves of law books, eyes scanning for the word ‘constitution’. you craned your neck up, finally spotting one and reached up to get it.

it was, however, way out of your reach. no matter how much you tiptoed and how far your arms extended, there was no way of getting it. you looked around the room for a stepping stool but sadly there were none in sight. in addition to that the entire section was empty, not a soul to be seen.

so you considered jumping, your shoes thumping mutedly against the wooden floor.

obviously, that didn’t work. it only drained your energy.

almost effortlessly a second later, an arm reached up to grab the exact book you had your eye on.

before you could turn to protest, you were met by the face of your boyfriend. mingyu leaned himself against the shelf, holding the book up almost teasingly.

like holding a piece of raw meat in front of a tiger.

“looking for this?”

now, you felt like the prey.

there was a newfound hunger in the way he stared at you. a flame, bright with excitement, burned behind his eyes and it could only mean one thing.

you weren’t unfamiliar with it. you were just confused as to what triggered him or more specifically,

what turned him on.

you already had something in mind, but you wanted to tease the answer out of him.

“do you know,” he slid the book back on the shelf with ease as he took more steps closer. “that what you’re wearing is far too short?”

so that was what it’s about.

“do i?” you glanced down, fingers toying with the hem of your dress.

you played along, with pleasure.

“don’t talk back,” the more steps forward he took, the more steps backward you took until you were up against the wall.

mingyu was right in front of you now, lips millimetres away.

“do you enjoy other men staring at your ass like that?” he held your jaw between his thumb and pointer finger. he could force your mouth open if he pressed any harder, but he didn’t. “answer me.”

“i didn’t know anyone was staring at me,” you said truthfully but a knowing smirk swept across your lips. “and i didn’t know it would have that much of an effect on you.”

“are you sure?” his eyes trailed down to your chest, where your nipples peeked through.

“maybe i wanted to tease you,” you laughed at how tense he was, already spotting a tent in his jeans as he snaked an arm around your waist. “but that was it.”

“is it funny how hard i am for you?” he closed the distance between your bodies so his crotch grounded against your pelvic bone.

“a little,” you said, voice turning breathy as mingyu shifted his hand from your jaw down to graze the skin on your inner thigh.

heat blossomed in your core, the urge to press your thighs together apparent as his hand travelled further up your dress. his hand disappeared under your skirt, the material hiking up his wrist. the tips of his fingers brushed the lace of your underwear, almost your clit but not there just yet.

“mingyu,” your hands sought purchase on his broad shoulders, head leaning against the wall.

“is it funny now?” his whispered into your ear, long fingers unfurling to cup your sex. he pushed his hand up into you. jolts of electricity soared up your spine, your body almost jerking upwards against his from the sudden pressure.

“n-not here,” at this rate, you began to whimper.

“why not?” mingyu’s voice had noticeably gone down a couple octaves, the baritone quaking through your core. his spread his fingers in your underwear so his middle finger rubbed directly on your slit. your back arched on the wall, pressing your chest harder on him in response. your hips undulated on his hand, urging him to fucking move.

“people w-will see.”

“they’ll see how much of a slut you are,” he nipped the lobe of your ear, breath hot and needy. he stroked your clit, slow and unrelenting. “just for me.”

his words, dirty and brimming with desire, were enough to intoxicate you in a haze of what he was feeling. his lips form a sardonic grin of your state, finally giving you a taste of your own medicine.

“you like that?” his hand from your waist moved up to your breast, squeezing it and shooting pleasure straight to your aching pussy. “you like letting the whole world see you take my cock right on this wall?”

you pressed your lips on his to hide the moan the slips from them as he rubbed your clothed-sex with full force. he gladly swallowed the wanton sound of your cry, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to grant his tongue access to the depths of your heated mouth. a multitude of groans rumbled in his chest, soft enough so only you could hear, while he nudged a thigh between your legs for support and elevate your leg slightly for him to reach deeper.

your hands carded through his hair, pulling on the roots as he continued his assault on your clit. your eyes were half-closed and fluttering from overwhelming pleasure. he pushed your panties to the side, slowly and allowing the elastic to snap against your now exposed folds. you jumped, the pain eliciting a new sensation.

mingyu took the opportunity to slip his ring finger into you, your juices providing more than enough lubrication for him to glide in. the wave of your hips—rolling against his hand—became more sharp in movement, more desperate to get all of him.

“you’re so wet already,” he mumbled into your ear, sinking his finger to the hilt. “and we’ve barely just gotten started.” he added another finger—his middle—into you. he pumped his digits slowly first to stretch you out, curling the tips to stroke your walls. you moaned into his neck, his fingers increasing in pace.

“you have to be quiet for me or we’ll be in huge trouble,” mingyu ran his free hand up your neck to your lips, swiping the spit off your lips and jutting a thumb between your soft appendages. “but i’m sure you’d like that, won’t you?”

you took a moment to quirk your lips up in a smirk, trapping his thumb between your teeth, silently telling him that oh yes you’d like that very much.

“dirty slut,” he growled in your ear. “always so tight,” his fingers formed a ‘v’ shape in your inner walls for a brief second before returning to thrusting in and out of you.

soon enough a release tugged at the base of your spine. your core clenched around his digits as a mild rush of euphoria began to approach. sensing it through the increased tightness around his fingers and the excess slick that ran down your inner thighs, mingyu retracted his fingers.

a quiet whine left your lips from the orgasm that had been ripped off from you. you rocked your hips upwards in hopes that he would do something about it until he tut, shaking his head.

“patience is a virtue, my love.”

#kwritersworldnet #seventeen #mingyu #mingyu smut #mingyu fic #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagines #mingyu drabbles #mingyu x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen requests #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen drabbles

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pnwriter · 3 years

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Endemic Pandemic

Part 1: Seattle as the Epicenter

How did it all start? First, it was STEP A, everyone from China, talking about it and one student bemoaning the fact that some people in Wuhan, China will eat anything. It seems eating a diseased bat started it, as contact with a monkey started AIDS. That group made it back and we had a fun time. The next two-week class was canceled because travel from China had been suspended. I skipped the next group to go to Mexico with Rene and Anne, and started the fourth group with a reduced group. After only one week, the UW decided to cancel in-person classes and that program ended. Now, there is the worry that I may not even have enough work to retire as I had planned. I started job hunting as soon as we heard the program will probably close the end of summer. Now, it's the start of spring quarter, and we only have 20 new students (as opposed to a healthy 80). Moreover, these classes may have to be on-line, so I'll have to learn a program called Zoom. All the signs are pointing to me getting out of this career and Rene is talking about getting out of the country. China and Iran took the biggest initial hits, then Italy closed down. Just today, 3/11/2020, Dumptr canceled all flights to and from Europe, except for England, who Brexited earlier this year. Also, today, the public schools followed the university's precedent, and closed down, as did the Burke Museum. The governor has banned any meetings over 250 people. Any meetings over 13 are discouraged and on my way back from the gym, which is still open, the train was mostly empty, with the buses being just a little fuller. You see people in masks, bus drivers, students until the classes were cancelled, doctors and nurses, shoppers, passers by. It's all disconcerting. People are over reacting, in my opinion...the North Dakotan whose bus driver always made it through when all the others cancelled.

Facebook and Instagram are double edged swords. First, it is and always has been a community of contact at a time when face to face contact has decreased steadily over the years. (Ironically, it's been decreasing directly because of the technology that gave us Facebook in the first place!) I send a photo of a candle burning for all our brothers and sisters across the world to my Greek pagan witch friend Vas. I am at home after going to our favorite neighborhood coffee shop this morning with the dog (hoping to see its friend Pinky there), only to find out that they are closing, due to the uncertainty. There are those who say that what is happening now in Italy will happen here, too. It's only a matter of time.

Speaking of FB, I'm chatting on line now with Alban, my brother-from-another-life teacher friend in France, where everything is still normal. We talked about how people are getting into being the characters in an epidemic horror film and acting accordingly. We both acknowledge the advantages of learning in the flesh, but also know people are lazy and always take the easy way out. Even as we communicated, President Macron issued the edict to close all schools and universities starting Monday. I look outside to the sunny March day and think similar days greeted the Spanish Flu and the Black Death. At least this one is not smelly.

Here's the resume I have sent:

CAREER SUMMARY

My international experience began after undergraduate school with the Peace Corps in Morocco. My strengths of responsibility, patience and adaptability gained from being raised on a farm contributed to a successful and rewarding overseas experience. The professional aspect of my international experience began with teaching and studying in the Teaching English as a Second Language Program at CSU. As the Graduate Student Representative, in addition to teaching, being the liaison between the faculty and the students honed my leadership, organizational and diplomatic skills. From my first teaching job at Saint Martin’s College to my extensive career at the University of Washington, these skills developed greatly over the years.

Writing and editing, International relations, counseling, public relations, intercultural communication,

EMPLOYMENT

English Language Instructor, UW Campus and downtown ELP, material development, listening and speaking and grammar specialties 3/16/2005 to present

Compliance Specialist, (change to Professional Staff status from Extension Lecturer) effective March 2004

Admissions and Immigration Director, University of Washington International Outreach Programs, Seattle WA. Admissions and Immigration for all UW Educational Outreach International Programs. Primary Designated Student Official in the Immigration and Customs Enforcement SEVIS program. 1/2004 to present.

Director of Student Services, University of Washington Educational Outreach, Seattle, WA. Directing all international student services in the English Language program including acceptance, immigration advising, orientation (initial and on-going), information dissemination (weekly newsletter), sponsors, housing, language exchange and extracurricular activities. Teaching an English Language class is part of the administration positions. 9/2000 to 1/2004.

Acting Director, Downtown ESL Program, Directing ESL program with 80 students and nine faculty and staff. Payroll and expenditure authorization, supervising office staff and providing support for teachers and students. June 12-August 18, 2000.

International Student Advisor, ESL Programs, University of Washington Educational Outreach (UWEO), Seattle, WA. Immigration, academic and personal advising. Activities supervisor, conversation exchange program coordinator, extended orientation class development and instruction, weekly newsletter publisher. Taught extended orientation class in ESL Program, speaking and listening focus. Liaison with UWEO Business Office, sponsoring agencies and embassies, UW housing office, and home stay agencies. 3/87 to 9/2000.

PROFESSIONAL ORGANIZATIONS AND SERVICES

Peace Corps Volunteer, Taza, Morocco. High school instructor of English at Lycee Sidi Azzouz in Taza. Outreach to disabled children in a special summer project at a special school in Martil, Morocco. From 6/78-6/80.

Member NAFSA: Association of International Educators and the Association of Washington International Student Affairs (AWISA). Received Outstanding Service Award. Reached out especially to the LGBT international community by producing a video and presenting workshops and sessions yearly at national and regional TESOL and NAFSA conferences.

EDUCATION AND PROFESSIONAL TRAINING

Cetlalic Language Program, Cuernavaca, Mexico, Intensive Spanish study January 3-16, 2004.

International House, Madrid, Spain, Intensive Spanish Study and Study Abroad experience 99-00

NAFSA Professional Development Training May 1998

M.A. TESL/Linguistics, Colorado State University 1982

B.S. Psychology, Minor in French, University of North Dakota, 1977

a week, we had done some bonding and I was remembering the difference between the two girls with similar, to me, names.

Like the 1918 Spanish Flu, which took my grandmother Voeller and Catherine Thomas' husband, starting the huge Voeller clan, the last dying before this next-100-year epidemic took hold. It centered in a nursing home in Kirkland, and has taken mostly the elderly. Some say it is cleaning out the dark, negative energy.

Part 2: Two Months in

It's now been over two months since people were sent to their rooms to thinking long and hard about what they have done...to the

Mother, to Gaia. Yesterday was Mother's Day and I posted photos both of my mother and Gaia in celebration of the day. I have picked up a variety pack of online friends...Roial Co (Philippine Reiki Master (I attuned him from 2 to 3 over the phone in an hour-long ceremony last weekend. He could be part of the soul family...other members being Kim, Aric, Bob, Bachir, Robert, Vivian, Paki, Roy, Cynthia, Alban for sure), Mahamed, Eryk (also for sure), Samuel and the latest...Randy. There could be up to 90 scattered across the planet at this time...like shatters of glass (Roi). I'm almost to the point where I can start writing in my books again.

The state was supposed to go into what is called "Stage 2" on June 1, five days from now, but people are still dying (up to 100,000 in the states, 300,000 worldwide) so now it's mid-month. More monetary help is on the way. The veil is thinning. Strange events are starting to become common. I am meeting good people around the world on social media. We send money to Samuel after vetting him, but Kelvin Moore turns out to be a Yemeni hack. Oh well. My gardens, on the other hand, are glorious and giving me much pleasure. I have fresh flowers here at my little at home desk and downstairs on the kitchen counter. The ones at my office desk are from the top deck and the ones on the counter are from the east English garden. I am trying to attract elves and fairies to both gardens and have started playing my harp out there, with melodies that come to me from the plants' exhalations. I installed a lady bug house at the base of the climbing vines and will sit out there when the weather gets better and it's supposed to reach record heat this summer. Yikes. Along with world pandemic, murder hornets, ravaging storms and the 17 year cadydid cycle falling on 2020, a record heat wave and resulting fires are just par for the course.

Going out in public these days, at least here in the city, you would see that nearly everyone has a mask on. It's a bit disconcerting looking at eyes above various colors of masks, the new item of outer wear. The cute barista wore a black one, the owner a bandanna, his wife, the chef, a more medical-looking surgical mask, the lady in front of me, a homemade jobby. Out in the boonies, there is a culture war between those who believe we need to wear masks to protect both ourselves and others and those who believe that it's all a hoax and it's a way for the government to muzzle us, limit our freedom. Both sides see the other as sheeple.

Part 3: Month 6

It's now 70 days until November 3 and as Antonio from Spain said, "At the end of the day, it's up to a few Floridians, a bunch of Ohioans and a handful of Michiganians to decide the future of mankind..." The DNC went better than anyone had expected, with great speeches from both Michelle and Barack Obama, the AOC, Kamala Harris and culminating with one by Biden, himself. This week, the shit show in a burning dumpster called teh RNC has started with hysterical screaming and drug-induced ramblings laying all blame the the Dems and predicting a daily reality of lawlessness, rioting and burning cities if Biden gets elected. Only 70 days until we decide whether to stay in this country, or like our ancestors, try our luck in a new one: Mexico, Spain or Portugal are the top runners right now. We plan to go south to check out Flagstaff and Sedona, Arizona this Christmas. Last Christmas, it was El Paso, Alpine and Marfa, Texas and Los Crucas, New Mexico.

I am on the break between summer and fall...noteably the longest one of the year, often five weeks. I usually go back to North Dakota during this time, but that's not happening this year, probably never again. The last time I was there, I was suffering from depression and I had a feeling I would not be seeing it again. Best to leave it to my memories of happier days there when the people I grew up with were still alive.

This divide in the country, instigated by Russian bots and carried out by Puppet Dumpster, has been the last straw, the one to have broken the camel's back that was my family connection. Foreseen by my late sister Lori, when she said (in response to whether it was now my job to keep the family together), "We are all adults now. If anyone decides to never see the others again, then that's up to them, not you." First, it was LaVonne who stopped texting or answering my texts. Then, Dennis stopped answering my phone calls and stopped calling as well. Rosie and Jamie are still cyber-stalking me on Facebook and Instagram (Rosie made an Instagram account as soon as I said I was leaving FB in disgust. She has never posted anything and has no photos in her folder...she just checks to see what I'm up to.) I stopped posting political craziness last week as it was becoming too much work to research what was fear-inducing truth and what was fear-inducing fiction. The tainted GOP is all about striking fear into the hearts of anyone who will listen to their rabid rantings.

Another week, another innocent black man shot by racist white police. Then, to add insult to injury, a trumped up 17 year old from Illinois goes across the border to shoot two protesters, walking by police to go home and then turn himself in the next day. (It comes out later that he shot the first victim in the back, and that his mom drove him to the protest, as if it were a soccer practice!) I had to break my political silence on FB, which I have just decided I will have to leave. I don't know if I can deal with Liker, the current alternative, either. It's the brainchild of some guy who saw where FB was going in 2012 and decided people needed an option. They need an option, all right. The option to opt out of social media, the new Dolls of the 2010s and now 20s.

I wake up early on 8/27/2020 and disable my Facebook account. I can't quite go cold turkey and get rid of Messenger along with it, because there are some people on there I still want to support. This is the second time I have tried to do this. After 13 years (is that all? It seems half my life!), it's a main social outlet that I am moving away from. Especially now, in the time of pandemics, it will be more isolating, but the vitriol and Hate being spewed forth is out of balance with what's really out there...I hope. There were those who had to spew the venom that the skateboarder that was killed, a gentle, long-haired hippy soul, deserved to die. I can not relate nor be exposed to such unadulterated hate. Their minds have been poisoned by no other than the POTUS, (and the institutionalized racism/hate behind him) as well as hate speech on line. My family has succumbed to the Fear of the Other as well. So be it. It may mean leaving the country if this upcoming election is stolen like the last one was. I refuse to believe that a majority of people in this country have drunk the Kool-aid.

Reading "The Witches are Coming" by Lindy West is giving me more insight, a chance to laugh and even some hope.

"Our propensity for always, always, always choosing what is comfortable over what is right helped pave the road to this low and surreal moment in US history."

Part 4: Month 7

From September 8 to 18, Seattle was socked in under a cloud of ash from the fires down south. I could feel the ashes of the bodies the those who died, as well as the chemicals of the burnt human structures. Breitenbush Hot Springs lay in ashes with only the main buildings saved. I could feel the heaviness in my lungs. Mishka could sense it and acted out by peeing outside the box. On the 14th, it finally rained some and we still have more days to endure. I got up from epic dreams of lost family (my mom, That Bitch Denis, DJ, my nieces who my mom prepared us for so they could come in and check us out sleeping) and went out into the acid rain to witness it. The craziness coming from the POTUS and media intensifies as it's now 50 days till the election.

Then, when it seems to be darkest before the dawn, the triple threat of the GOPruients, COVID-19 and the death-ash from the west coast fires, we find on the evening of 9/18/20 that the Notorious RBG, Ruth Bader Ginsberg, justice of the SCOTUS, died at 87, after having fought numerous ailments, including cancer. That bitch, Moscow Mitch immediately states the Senate will vote on a replacement even before the body is cold, even though in 2016 he said that the people of the US should have a say in the next SCOTUS, therefore, the appointment should wait until the election of the new president...blocking Obama in this last year, from appointing one. This will enable the Dumpster in his last weeks to appoint another conservative, anti-abortionist.

It becomes harder to grasp what is actually going on..these times are so unprecedented in our life times, though to those of us for whom AIDS was an epidemic, this is our second time around fearing for our lives. We know it's a long haul with many casualties before we come out on the other side, but whatever was normal no longer will be.

We go out for healthy burgers at Little Big Burger, where you can get a lettuce wrap in the place of a bun. We are both on edge and irritable and go to our separate corners after we eat in silence to grieve in our own way. Me typing here with all my altar lights on and a candle burning by the RBG candle, as the first fall rains sound outside, clearing the air for the first time in 10 days. The temptation to sell the house and leave the country is strong. The need to stay and fight on will probably prevail, but may not take the re-election of the anti-Christ, the embodiment of the Seven Deadly sins: pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth,

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let-it-show · 4 years

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A Little Stumble

So, because I couldn’t help myself, I jumped on the next idea!

@priscilarte1 suggested the idea of Elsa coping with low blood pressure, managing to be clumsy enough to often her herself and Anna worries and cares for her. So I ran with this and it’s not as lighthearted as I originally planned, but! Please enjoy~

"Ow. Ow ow ow!"

At the cries of pain, Anna's face popped into view in the doorway, eyes wide in alarm. She stumbled backwards for a second with her brush caught in her hair and finally managed to rush to Elsa's side.

Elsa was on the floor at the top of the stairs with a spilled cup of water in front of her. She was annoyed at herself for the mess, but most of her focus was on the pain pulsing through her ankle after she fell up the stairs. She hadn't felt super well and knew she was thirsty, but the dizziness caught her off guard.

Anna's hands were on her face and then one on her arm as she checked on her. "Elsa! What happened?"

"Tripped," Elsa said simply with a sigh, pulling one knee forward to better brace herself on. She had chosen to wear one of her very long white dresses that day, decorated with snowflakes and the earth symbol in gentle greys and blues. Elsa was, typically, pretty good at navigating one of her ridiculous long dresses but she could feel it tangled in her feet.

"Are you okay?" Anna asked, scanning her face and then looking around her where she surely noticed the one foot sticking out behind Elsa.

"I think so. My ankle is a little sore and I landed a little hard on my hands." They ached slightly, but not much. She reached for the hand on her face and squeezed it. "It's alright, I hurried up the stairs too fast. Help me up?"

Anna didn't look so sure. "Your foot looks like it hurts."

"Just a little," Elsa lied, as it only began to throb more. Oh she had really twisted it!

With doubt still painted on her pretty face, Anna complied anyway to help Elsa up. She rose slowly and held Elsa's hand and arm to support her. It was a good thing too because as she rose and then tried to put weight on it, Elsa cried out and stumbled.

Anna still supported her though, standing there in her green nightgown and half brushed hair with worry swirling all around her. Elsa could feel it, and it was sort of alarming. It was just her foot. She shrugged it off for the moment. "Okay...it really hurts," she groaned. She was mad at herself, she knew better!

So did Anna, who had frowned when she noticed the various scrapes and bruises all over Elsa's body upon arriving from the forest. Ever since Anna had seen the way Elsa became clutzy and out of it after overextending herself, Elsa had to distract her out of lectures and make her smile through her fear. It wasn't a new thing, and something she had always talked to the castle doctor about, but for Anna it hadn't really been apparent until Elsa became queen. When the stress and tiredness hit, it had been rough.

Living in the forest compacted it. In Arendelle she had been a lot less likely to run into trees, fall off a horse into the ocean, and wander into a giant's nostril. Luckily the third had been an isolated event, not that the giant ever let her forget it. On top of the additional obstacles, there were times Elsa really pushed herself up there, in ways she hadn't in the castle. It wasn't often but it was draining...

Anna had one arm around her waist and her grip was tight. "You were dizzy, weren't you..." It wasn't a question. Anna knew her habits.

"A little, but..." Oh, Elsa felt guilty there and then. That's when she couldn't dismiss the energy coming off of Anna anymore. Her sister worried about her more than her own life. She put her arm around Anna both to calm her and help with the support.

Anna said nothing as they got to the bedroom. She escorted Elsa carefully to the bed and then sat her down on the edge. Elsa kept her foot raised and eyes on Anna, who immediately set about fluffing the pillows. "Hang on...hang oooon..." The anxiety coming off of her was growing.

"Anna, Anna I'm alright, its just my foot! I just tripped, it's nothing." Anna was acting like she'd just found Elsa in the middle of drowning.

"It's not nothing," Anna fretted and once she deemed the pillows good enough, she gestured for Elsa to get on the bed and sit back. Elsa did so with a little groan, lifting her leg and quickly settling it on the bed. There was an angry bruise forming.

Anna certainly noticed.

"You wanted water?"

"Anna..."

"You need to drink water. You know how much trouble you have when you can't concentrate."

Elsa opened her mouth to argue, but quickly shut it. Anna was right. Plus Elsa had been pretty thirsty, so what was the point of arguing? It wouldn't help with Anna's stress levels. "Okay," she said simply.

And with that Anna darted out of the room. Elsa watched and leaned her head back, simply studying the ceiling. She was so very upset with herself...it seemed like a pattern the way she always managed to make Anna worry over her. She felt so guilty. She had to tell herself it was sort of Anna's choice to worry and she couldn't control that - that line of thinking had helped her years ago when her mind otherwise would have told her she was less of a burden locked in her room.

No, it was definitely better for both of them, even if sometimes they worried and scared each other. Anna's love outweighed it all and Elsa wouldn't risk losing it by closing herself away again.

Still, she was silently making herself calm down a few minutes later when Anna rushed in the room with a small cushion and wrap under one arm and a new glass of water in her hand. She handed the water to Elsa first. "Drink," she said softly. Then she crawled onto the end of the bed, settling with her knees curled. She lifted Elsa's calf so she could place the injured foot in her lap.

It hurt a little.

Anna's touches were very careful and light as she examined her foot, a frown on her face. "I don't like this bruise," she said softly.

"Sorry..." Elsa didn't know how else to respond.

Anna shook her head. "Don't be sorry, you're hurt and I...I just want you to be more careful. You have bruises on your legs and don't think I didn't see that big scrape on your back. You heal up a little quicker but not instantly."

"I know. I've been trying, I really have. If I start to fall Gale usually catches me. I don't leave Ahtohallan if I feel out of it, or the village." Elsa knew that wasn't perfect, but it was a start and she was desperate to calm Anna. "I'm okay Anna, really, twisting my ankle is not a normal day for me." It really wasn't.

Anna didn't say anything and instead reached for the wrap. She moved Elsa's foot gently as she applied it, careful movements helping her wrap without much pain for Elsa. When it was on well, Anna traced the fabric with her fingers. "I worry about you all the time. You don't have to tell me you know that." She took a deep breath, sighed, and then lifted her head with a small smile. "And...you don't need me to be so negative, either. I know. But I've seen you collide with an entire family before when you were like this-"

Elsa nearly spat out the water she was trying to drink. "Oh, no! No don't remind me." That had been a very weird and awkward day. She'd made a lot of ice boats to try and compensate for the act.

"That was funny after I stopped panicing," Anna replied and she giggled a little. "There was also the time you got carried away saying you were going to make us an ice rink for the night but ended up freezing your feet to the ground."

"Oh yea, that was hilarious until Olaf poured hot water on my bare feet," Elsa mumbled and rolled her eyes.

Anna cradled her foot for another moment. "He was trying to help, even if he isn't always good at it." She gently moved Elsa's foot and traded the cushion for her lap. "This is from the couch, it's good and firm. I want you to keep your foot up and ice it!" she said, trying to sound bossy but it was way too cute.

"Yes, yes." Elsa waved her hand and immediately her foot was held in ice, structured so that she wouldn't accidentally move her foot more and hurt it during the night.

"Lucky that cold doesn't bother you," Anna commented as she watched. She looked at Elsa's face after. "Are you going to sleep in that dress? You'll get tangled! I'll untangle you but still..."

It had faded immensely, but there was still distress in the air and Elsa didn't want it there. She didn't care if she slept in the dress but with another, slower wave of her hand, the long dress was gone and she remained in a very simple white and sparkly little gown that stopped at her knees. "Feel better?"

Anna nodded in approval and slid off the bed, rushing over to the trunk she stored extra bedding in. She rustled around for a few seconds before emerging with a good sized, thick blanket. "Just need this. I know you won't get cold but the ice..."

"Oh." Elsa blinked, setting down her finally emptied glass. Yea, that block of ice was going to bother Anna probably. "Sorry. Are you sure you want me to stay on the bed?" She'd move, but she also realized quickly it was a silly offer to make.

Immediately Anna had narrowed her eyes and rushed the bed with her blanket in her arms. She scrambled on next to Elsa. "No, you're staying right here! Don't move an inch, I won't miss one of my nights with you." She considered where to lay and smartly settled on Elsa's left, the foot that wasn't injured.

"Anna." Elsa laughed as her sister arranged the blanket over herself and partially over Elsa.

"Are you comfortable? Here, let me arrange the pillows so you can lay back now," Anna said, taking a couple that had been propping Elsa up. She put them behind herself instead and scooched in close. As she settled herself in for another nice cuddle, she kissed her sister's cheek.

Elsa smiled at her, noticing the way Anna's cheeks reddened. Elsa was usually the one who gave small kisses, something that Anna loved but was certainly shy about. "Love you too, Anna," she told her and enjoyed the extended blushing.

"You always know what I want to say," Anna said softly. "Or how I feel."

"And? You feel that too," she said, indicating their meshed energies. "I know you do."

"I do, I do. I never want to stop feeling it," Anna said as she rolled on her side and gazed up at Elsa.

"Neither do I," Elsa replied and stroked Anna's cheek. Anna's face was almost shining up at her. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"It's my favorite thing to do! Not that-not that I want you sick or hurt. I still want you to look after yourself, you know." Anna slid her arm around her in her typical way.

"Yes, yes. I know. I'll do better." Elsa didn't say she promised since she knew how she could be...but she was sure going to try.

Anna squeezed her and nodded. "Good. If you don't, you're going to spend a lot of time healing while listening to Olaf's trivia. How's that sound to you?"

At that, Elsa could only groan.

#Frozen 2 #fanfic #anna #elsa #COMFORT N STUFF

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anthonywashrosado · 4 years

Text

Our Need for Intersectionality within the Hip Hop Movement

A couple of mornings ago I was in Florida tuning into The Breakfast Club for a semblance of home. Conversations on The Breakfast Club relay ways in which Hip Hop’s Movement and Culture relate to the individual, our community, and our world. In addition to sharing personal stories, politics of the music industry and artist development are examined and reviewed with influential innovators.

There have been golden episodes of TBC that filled me with hope. Interviews with leading revolutionaries Trevor Noah, Angela Rye, SZA, Kendrick Lamar, the cast of Insecure, DJ Khaled,Cardi B.and more have blessed millions of listeners with insight, enlightenment, inspiration, and laughs. Although I am forced to swallow my pride whenever Angela Yee is cut off by her male co-hosts, I tune into TBC in order to tap into sentiments similar to those of Johanna Valdes:

“It sucks that even though when people are highly problematic on The Breakfast Club and Power 105.1, I still have to engage because it's Black media and it's New York and it sounds like home. It just still has the parts of home that still hurt the most (usually misogyny and homophobia and classism).”

Johanna’s ventilation vibrate on a high frequency. Remy Ma was TBC’s guest this morning and I was eager to hear her speak of her creative process, as well as her journey making music. Half an hour into this episode I was packing my suitcase and heard words from Remy that brought a sharp chill down my spine, paralyzing my body to a halt.

“But I just... Me, as a female I get it when females do certain things but--”

She was responding to an earlier statement regarding men who gossip. My heart pounded as I turned my head toward Remy’s waving hands and matter of fact tone, thinking of the audience receiving this:

“--I hang around a lot of guys, so when I see guys doing certain things that the guys I grew up around and that I hang around don’t do, I just be so confused. Like, why?”

She threw her hands up, extending the “whyyyyy?”. I knew exactly where this tired rhetoric was going. I immediately felt solidarity with fellow femme identifying listeners as we all prepared ourselves for the internalized misogyny that would spur the seemingly unending perpetuation of femmephobia and attack on women and girls. Charlemagne responded,

“But you grew up around a lot of murderers and killers and shooters.” Remy attests,

“You’re right. You’re right. Absolutely, I did. I’m not going to lie to you. I didn’t have any, like, nice guys around me. They was real cool, but I tell you one thing: They was 100. They wasn’t acting like

girls. They wasn’t doing anything that was not manly; that wasn’t stand up; that you couldn’t, you know, hold your nuts on. That’s just the people that I grew up around. So when I move around today and I see a lot of the ways these guys be moving, it’s very female-ish.”

At this point Remy’s tone has transitioned from a high pitch of confusion to the somber note of a lecturing professor. Angela agrees with a “Mhm”. Charlemagne nods with focused eyes as if this information is new and righteous. Remy continues,

“Very woman-like.”

Angela, the most informed and considerately conscious host on TBC, quickly switches the topic to Love & Hip Hop. As their talk delves further into mind-numbing discourse, I felt that final blow alongside all femme identifying women, trans people, and men listening.

I expected Charlemagne to support Remy’s statements. This is a man who is obtaining cultural capital through interviews with varying sources emboldening his perspective on the “transgender lifestyle”. Charlemagne is akin to straight and straight-passing men who demonstrate their masculinity via defamation of gender non-conforming peoples. While transwomen are being killed every day, The Breakfast Club have the privilege of sittin in their studio and laughing while, you know, Lil Duval states he would kill his sexual partner if he found out they were trans. Their uproar translated to the TBC community: whether lie or not, a human being’s inability to reveal their gender identity is of more value than that human’s right to live.

Do you see how dangerous that is?

While I appreciate Angela’s proactivity to cease Remy’s misogynist and femmephobic hyperbole, her reaction mirrored my sixth grade science teacher’s decision to sweep homophobia under the rug by instructing us to open chapter four after I had been called a faggot during his lesson.

Miles from my family, I turned to facebook and posted my feelings. Responses from fellow TBC subscribers eased my mind. Candace Simpson vented,

“It hurts me when my fellow black cis sisters engage in those sorts of gender-essentialist games. We never had womanhood in this country. Ever. And even when we did, it was conditional. I wish we could really take seriously that transphobic rhetoric hurts us too. Think about how people called Serena a man. Black women get those ‘insults’ so much more than white women. As a tall woman, I’ve had my womanhood questioned. I wish we could get it together because this really does come home to bite us in the ass.”

Initially, I planned on visiting Angela at her juice spotin Brooklyn. She is able to thwart any exchange from deleterious to productive. I invariably look forward to her questions. I admire her entrepreneurship. As a Brooklyn native I felt she might want to listen to me. “Yet”, I thought to myself, “if the camera is hardly on Angela during TBC’s aired recordings and her profound questions are constantly interrupted by basic macho prose, then what power would she have to respond to the hate so boldly spewed internationally? ...And would she be targeted for speaking out against hate she and her co-hosts permitted on TBC?”

Angela’s decision to slyly swat away comments that assure continuous degradation of women within the workforce and social spheres is one that is just as venomous as instigating hate. Remy’s internalized misogyny was ignored, as well as the fact that she spat in the wind.

This spit slapped the faces of women who have struggled with stereotypical heteronormative expectations of womanhood for generations... then hit all of her femme identifying male and trans fans...

and finally landed on her L’Aveugle shades.

Although she may wipe her glasses off, the brunt of her conclusion is detrimental to the sustainability of her fan base. There are many ironic and sad parts of Remy’s foot-in-mouth moment. First and foremost...

Remy, come meet me on any day and I will humbly show you a man who is thriving for his community. I will come to you with utmost respect and kindness. I will provide for you receipts at which to prove how I have fostered my upward mobility within a society whose legislative and socially oppressive systems hinder non-white low class individuals from reaching their potential. I am a queer femme identifying Afro-Boricua housing rights activist, curator, and choreographer. My older brother is also queer and a self made entrepreneur, mother agent, and photographer who I assisted in helping raise our three younger siblings. My mom had he at 16 and me at 18. He and I are both very comfortable with our masculine and feminine energies.

My brother is 100. I am 100. I am confident many of your femme identifying male fans are 100.

We need clarity on your definitions so as not to misinterpret your words: Remy, what does it mean to act like a “girlyman”?

Doe it mean that that one is considerate; emotionally intellectual; secure in their feelings; able to express their self?

Or does it mean that one is fragile; dim-witted; easily moldable; unable to make their own decisions?

What does it mean to act “woman-like”?

Does it mean that one provides; nurtures; has agency in creating the circumstances for the life they want; preserves the human species?

Or, Remy, does it mean that one is worth less than the masculinity present within a cis-gendered man; to blame for any verbal and physical abuse they receive in these streets; wired to gossip.

If so...

Remy Remy Remy... You and TBC just dug us a bit deeper into a pit of anti-women based media, hate, crimes, and legislation...

Now I’M confused cause y’all over there laughing and got me sitting in Miami on a sunny 86 degree day tapping at the keys on my laptop, over here like... Why? Whyyyy? Why can’t y’all just have a discussion with the Gender Unicorn?

Fact:Gender performance, gender identity, the sex you were assigned at birth, sexual attraction, and emotional attraction are different. Neither one of these dictates the other.

Remy, your remarks regarding your perception of how others should perform their gender have weight. I wish they didn’t, but they do. I understand that you were alluding to men who gossip. However your proclamation was toxic because it implies that women inherently gossip and/or it is okay for women to gossip but not men. Although your words intended to illustrate your mindset on men gossiping, their effect was of severe detriment to TBC supporters. They maintain the stereotype that women are loose with their tongues. They validate aggressors who traumatize, attack, and slaughter gender non-conforming people.

Remy, I also grew up with machismos in and out of jail. I too had men in my life like those you explain. They tried their hardest to make a man of me. What they, and you, won’t realize is that my manhood and my gender performance are defined by me. Not them. Not you. Me.

True, Remy, your intention was to express your distaste for men who gossip. This implies that gossiping is a trait ingrained in women.

Remy, what is missing from your eurocentrically washed frame of mind is the herstory and history of our African and Indigenous American ancestors. Arawak Tainos across the Caribbean were amongst countless tribes who lived in matriarchal societies. All spectrums of gender identity and performance existed then, as they still do today.

Remy, in order to insure the longevity of your career you need an ardent and viable fan base that know you got their backs. No matter your intent, your actions impacted more people than you can imagine. Believe it or not, your fans include gender non conforming and/or femme identifying people.

Why do we hurt one another even though we are all being hurt by the same oppressor?

I escaped New York in part to get away from femme phobia, only to arrive to North Miami and experience femmephobia from men and women of color.

Where is the intersectionality? Why can’t I escape society motivating society to drink basic-heteronormative flavored kool aid?

Red dye #40 is not good for you.

Deductive reasoning reveals if a person is discriminatory of an identity they too claim, then they endure self-inflicted prejudice. Remy, if you loved yourself then you wouldn’t have to nonchalantly spread hate internationally. Just because people around you were laughing, does not mean it wasn’t enmity. I hope you take time to learn to love yourself more. I hope you will make time to reach out to we who secure your artistic career’s existence. We need your lucidity.

We are waiting.

Revolutionary Ru Paul preaches, “If you don’t love yourself, how in the world are you going to love somebody else?”

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