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#the rest of us are not experiencing those bonding chemicals
watermelinoe · 3 months
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at first my thought was "well you probably shouldn't say it" but then in the post you find out op's sister is trying to make her board her 18 year old cats so she can bring her 4 week old baby to op's house to meet her and said "if you loved my niece you would do anything to protect her" like ok well you just pushed that thang out of your vagina two seconds ago. op has had years to bond with her cats. do the math
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alusa12 · 7 days
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The Science Behind How Massage Can Improve Mental Health
Introduction:
In the fast-paced modern world, where stress and anxiety have become commonplace, the search for effective methods to improve mental health has never been more pressing. While traditional approaches like therapy and medication remain essential, there's growing interest in complementary therapies such as massage. Beyond its reputation for relaxation and physical benefits, emerging research is shedding light on the profound impact massage therapy can have on mental wellbeing. Let's delve into the science behind how massage can improve mental health and explore the mechanisms at work.출장마사지
The Stress Response and Massage:
At the core of many mental health issues lies the body's stress response, governed by the sympathetic nervous system. When we experience stress, whether it's due to work pressures, relationship challenges, or financial worries, the body releases hormones like cortisol and adrenaline, preparing us for fight or flight. While this response is vital for survival in acute situations, chronic stress can wreak havoc on our physical and mental health.
Massage therapy acts as a powerful antidote to stress by activating the parasympathetic nervous system, often referred to as the body's "rest and digest" response. Through gentle touch and manipulation of soft tissues, massage stimulates the release of neurotransmitters like serotonin and dopamine, which promote feelings of relaxation and wellbeing. Additionally, massage lowers levels of cortisol and adrenaline, reducing the physiological markers of stress and anxiety.출장샵
The Role of Neurotransmitters:
Neurotransmitters are chemical messengers that play a crucial role in regulating mood, behavior, and cognitive function. Serotonin, often referred to as the "happy hormone," is involved in regulating mood, appetite, and sleep. Dopamine, known as the "reward hormone," is associated with pleasure, motivation, and focus.
Research has shown that massage therapy can increase levels of serotonin and dopamine in the brain, leading to improved mood and emotional wellbeing. In a study published in the Journal of Alternative and Complementary Medicine, researchers found that participants who received massage therapy experienced significant increases in serotonin and dopamine levels compared to those in the control group. These findings highlight the neurochemical basis of massage's mood-enhancing effects.
The Impact on Stress-Related Disorders:
Chronic stress is a significant risk factor for a range of mental health disorders, including anxiety, depression, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Massage therapy has shown promise as a complementary treatment for these conditions, offering relief from symptoms and improving overall quality of life.
In a meta-analysis of 17 clinical trials, researchers found that massage therapy was associated with significant reductions in symptoms of anxiety and depression across diverse populations, including individuals with chronic illness, psychiatric disorders, and postpartum depression. Massage's ability to lower cortisol levels and increase serotonin and dopamine may contribute to its therapeutic effects on stress-related disorders.
The Mind-Body Connection:
The mind-body connection lies at the heart of massage therapy's impact on mental health. Research has shown that physical touch and human connection have profound effects on our emotional wellbeing, influencing everything from stress regulation to social bonding.
Massage therapy provides a safe and nurturing environment for individuals to experience touch and connection, which can be particularly beneficial for those who have experienced trauma or have difficulty expressing emotions verbally. The therapeutic relationship between client and therapist fosters feelings of trust, empathy, and acceptance, facilitating emotional healing and resilience.
In addition to its psychological benefits, massage therapy can help alleviate physical symptoms that contribute to mental health issues. For example, chronic pain conditions like fibromyalgia and tension headaches are often co-occurring with depression and anxiety. By reducing pain and muscle tension, massage can provide relief from these symptoms and improve overall mental wellbeing.
The Importance of Self-Care:
In today's hectic world, self-care has become a buzzword, but its importance cannot be overstated when it comes to mental health. Massage therapy offers a tangible way for individuals to prioritize their wellbeing and engage in self-care practices that nourish both body and mind.
By scheduling regular massage sessions, individuals can proactively manage stress, reduce anxiety, and improve mood, ultimately enhancing their resilience in the face of life's challenges. Whether it's a weekly relaxation massage or targeted treatment for specific mental health concerns, incorporating massage therapy into a holistic self-care routine can yield profound benefits for overall wellbeing.
Conclusion:
As our understanding of the mind-body connection continues to evolve, so too does our appreciation for the therapeutic potential of massage therapy in improving mental health. From its ability to modulate the stress response and boost neurotransmitter levels to its role in fostering touch and connection, massage offers a multifaceted approach to enhancing emotional wellbeing. By harnessing the science behind massage therapy, individuals can empower themselves to take proactive steps towards better mental health and a more balanced life.
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bluefellow · 4 months
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Yeah I totally know , I think women can love and feel deeper in general just because we are mother's, daughter's, and sisters we bond stronger because of years of evolution we are better care givers & sympathizers. I love to make my life harder than it needs to be, my creativity steams from pain & when I'm hurt is when I feel the most real. But I'm still afraid of it because I used to not take care of my pain properly & didn't know how to cope with it so I'd suffer & not take anything from it - -but now I know what good can come of bad & I know how to protect myself when needed even if I do build a wall more often than I probably ought to I no longer do it to the point where I become completely numb. I am glad to hear you're sweet & rough, my favorite combination. ❤❤❤
Aw good that makes me feel very nice ! I would love to share with you some of my writing, I have books of it but that page was the only one anyone has ever seen of it before. Yeah I can wrap my head around sorrow a lot better than happiness. I feel like I deserve pain more than happiness so when I do feel happy I'm usually trying to find a way to sabotage that & I've done some pretty fucked up shit just to hurt myself. I am different now though I feel , I have had to learn through years of being
Stuck in my own head how to avoid hurting people around me & instead just effect myself. I used to be really good at ruining relationships before I really understood the fact that I have unbalanced chemicals in my brain & now I try really hard to focus on growing relationships with people I love & care about positively because I know what it means to be ugly & hurt & I don't want people I consider family or friends to feel that way. I think the only way to be truly happy is if you've truly been
Unhappy & of course there is no light without the dark & everyone suffers on their own levels & it is all valid but I tend to be more attracted to people who have really been through the ringer just because I can relate to that on such a deeper level since that's been the majority of my young adult life. Most people don't know what to do when you have bad days & I don't really ever expect people to handle me well when I'm bad but that's just because I often don't handle my own self well during
Those times. Yeah I have a pretty cynical outlook on the majority of human beings. There are a handful of accaptions where I meet a phenomenal person & that is what I think makes this wild life worth it
I love having conversations like this with people like you, it's a rare thing to come by for me. I rest my head on the glory of sorrow & more people find that hard to swallow so when someone can relate it makes me feel a little less lonely. That's exactly what I think I need to start doing. I have more words going through my head than I will ever be able to articulate but most of the time people think I just don't have words to say but the case usually is I just don't want to be the one to speak
Them. I'm not one for small talk so I tend to keep it short until someone mentions something that Sparks my interest but I want to try to be the one to open others up instead of waiting for someone else to. I just don't handle misunderstanding well so I can get offended if someone interprests something I say wrong espically when I'm opening up the parts of myself that I actually need to put effort into in order to reveal them. I will try to make them understand where I'm coming from but if in
The end they still can't seem to comprehend that's when I know I can't get along with them in a sense of how I'd want to be able to get along with people I choose to spend my time w. & That's when I can get bitchy also because I have little patience for people who have had it easy & haven't been exposed to real shit. But I just need to remember that it's not usually their fault & I think no matter how well one can word their thoughts people who've never experienced something similar will never
Be able to actually understand & all that I really am looking for in people is the ability to empathize. I totally feel like I can convey my feelings much more effectively through art. People can have more time to see what it means & truly think about it. Often in verbal conversation people are not mentally present & as soon as someone is finished saying something , rather than thinking about what they just said, they are thinking of what they will say next & that's where I think miscommunication
Comes in & where people get hurt when they put emotion into their words & notice the other person has thrown that away.
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allclassbeauty3 · 9 months
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Wigs and Extensions: Your Style, Your Way
Wigs and hair extensions have become increasingly popular due to their versatility and ability to cater to various hair needs. Whether you desire a temporary change for a special occasion or a more permanent solution to your hair struggles, wigs, and extensions offer a world of possibilities.
The Magic of Wigs
Wigs are a fantastic way to achieve an instant and dramatic hair makeover. With an extensive array of styles, colors, and lengths available, you can embrace any look you desire. Whether you want to sport a sleek bob, elegant updo, or long flowing waves, wigs can make it happen effortlessly.
A World of Options:
Synthetic Wigs: Perfect for those looking for budget-friendly options with a wide range of colors and styles. Synthetic wigs offer low-maintenance and pre-styled convenience.
Human Hair Wigs: For those seeking the utmost natural look and feel, human hair wigs are the ideal choice. They can be styled, colored, and treated just like your natural hair.
Lace Front Wigs: These wigs have a sheer lace front that creates a natural-looking hairline, allowing you to style the hair away from your face.
Full Lace Wigs: With a lace cap that covers the entire head, full lace wigs offer maximum versatility in styling, including updos and high ponytails.
The Art of Extensions
Hair extensions are a game-changer when it comes to adding length, volume, and dimension to your hair. If you've been dreaming of Rapunzel-like tresses or voluminous red-carpet curls, extensions are the answer.
Types of Extensions:
Clip-in Extensions: These temporary extensions are easy to apply and remove, making them perfect for special occasions or occasional use.
Tape-in Extensions: Ideal for a semi-permanent solution, tape-in extensions are taped near the roots of your natural hair and can last for several weeks.
Sew-in Extensions: Also known as weaves, these extensions are sewn into braided hair, providing a longer-lasting option.
Fusion Extensions: These extensions use a keratin bond to attach to your natural hair, offering a natural look and feel.
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Why Choose Wigs and Extensions?
Endless Variety: Wigs and extensions open up a whole new world of hairstyles to explore. From short to long, straight to curly, and everything in between, you can experiment with various looks without any commitment.
Confidence Booster: A good hair day can work wonders for your self-esteem. With wigs and extensions, you can confidently step out with the hairstyle you've always dreamed of, knowing you look stunning.
Damage-Free Styling: Unlike frequent heat styling or chemical treatments, wigs and extensions allow your natural hair to rest and grow healthier.
Ideal for Hair Growth: If you are trying to grow out your hair or have experienced hair loss, wigs and extensions can provide an immediate solution while you wait for your natural hair to grow back.
Experiment without Regret: Want to try a bold color or a daring cut? Wigs and extensions let you experiment without making any permanent changes to your natural hair.
Conclusion
Unleash the power of wigs and extensions to transform your hair and elevate your style. From playful experimentation to elegant makeovers, the possibilities are endless. Embrace a new persona, exude confidence, and experience the joy of having the hair you've always dreamed of. Whether you choose wigs, extensions, or both, let the magic of hair transformation await you!
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sex-ionary · 11 months
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Sex Chems
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Most of us have experienced sexual pleasure and felt amazing after that, physically and emotionally. A healthy sexual life involves self-exploration. It’s fundamental for our personal growth.
For many decades sex has been an activity that most people had considered taboo, fortunately, this idea has changed over the last few years. More than 83% have sex regularly
Sex can affect and improve our daily life. It offers a cocktail of brain-balancing delights. Giving yourself pleasure should be as fundamental as breakfast for everyone, regardless of age, social status, or sexual orientation. It is important to know, when we orgasm, our brain releases a whole host of feel-good chemicals that offer a state of calm and well-being to the mind and body.
Orgasms offer everything from stress relief and immune-boosting effects. Also, releases sleep-inducing chemicals. It’s healthy to satisfy our desires and enjoy ourselves.
Masturbation and sexual intercourse allows us to know ourselves and develop self-confidence. This will result in an important amount of self-love, which can help us to have a better mood and improve our daily activities
When we are experiencing sexual pleasure our brain produces neurotransmitters that help to boost our well-being. Those chemicals are:
Serotonin
Is a monoamine neurotransmitter (modulation of psychomotor function, cardiovascular, respiratory and gastrointestinal control, sleep mechanisms, hormone secretion, body temperature, and pain).
It acts as a hormone, carrying messages between nerve cells in your brain and throughout your body.These messages tell your body how to work, influencing learning, memory, happiness, body temperature, sleep, sexual behavior and hunger.
Lack of enough serotonin is thought to play a role in depression, anxiety, mania and other health conditions.
Serotonin overall influencing:
Mood
Digestion
Sleep
Wound Healing
Bone Health
Sexual Desire
Adrenaline
Adrenaline is a hormone that helps you react quickly if you face an exciting, stressful or dangerous situation. The brain starts sending signals to your body and your body responds with:
Increased heart rate
Dilated eyes
Increased sweating
Heightened anxiety and nervousness
Decreased appetite
Decreased ability to concéntrate
As the levels of adrenaline grow through sexual arousal, attraction between two people also increases. Creating an intense act, physically and emotionally.
Norepinephrine
It’s a hormone that helps to transmit nerve signals across nerve endings to another nerve cell, muscle cell or gland cell.
Increases heart rate and blood pressure, release of glucose from energy stores, improves blood flow to skeletal muscle while reducing blood flow to the gastrointestinal system and increases muscle contraction.
Also, encourages arousal and alertness.
Dopamine
It’s made in your brain and released into your bloodstream. Acts as a chemical messenger, sending signals between nerve cells in your brain and your brain to the rest of your body.
Also, has a huge impact in your body, causing:
Blood vessels relaxation
Increases sodium and urine removal from your body.
Reduces insulin production in your pancreas.
Slows gastrointestinal content movement and protects your GI lining.
Reduces lymphocyte activity in your immune system.
Is well known as the “feel-good” hormone. It gives you a sense of pleasure and gives you the motivation to do things you enjoy.
It plays a role in many important body functions, including movement, memory and pleasurable reward and motivation.
Oxytocin
It’s produced in the hypothalamus and released into the bloodstream. We produce oxytocin when we’re excited by our sexual partner, and when we fall in love. Also, helps to induce anti-stress-like effects such as blood pressure and cortisol reduction.
Meanwhile, it increases pain thresholds and stimulates various types of positive social interaction. In addition, it promotes growth and healing.
Oxytocin can help us bond with loved ones and can be released of non-noxious sensory stimulation, like touching, music and exercise
Our body is amazing; it naturally offers a lot to make us feel good, all this happens when we are experiencing pleasure.
Self-pleasure can have a huge impact in our daily life; we can feel those benefits instantly. In Long-Term we can enhance how we feel and perceive things.
Everything about masturbation must be perceived as a fundamental part for our health, let’s put aside what other people think. This is something personal and every person is different and can do what thinks it’s best for them.
Biologically masturbation is good for health due to the chemicals that are released while we experience pleasure, it is important to maintain a healthy lifestyle involving sexual activity.
Remember that there are no rules to enjoy our sex life, the only thing that matters is to enjoy, if there are other parts involved, make them feel good as they want to.
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5 Laws That'll Help the d8 distillate Industry
The Definitive Guide to Consumer Experiences With Delta-8-thc: Medical Use
Table of ContentsThe smart Trick of What Research Says About The Benefits Of Delta 8 Thc That Nobody is Talking AboutThe A Legal-ish Way To Get Stoned Is On The Rise. Is It Legit? IdeasGetting My How To Make Delta 8 Thc: Cbd To Δ8 Thc Step-by-step To WorkTop Guidelines Of Best Delta 8 Distillate Brands
Delta 8 THC is around half as tough as delta 9 THC - delta 10 distillate. It's certainly not a heavy-hitter, but it is actually likewise not one thing to approach along with a no-risk attitude. There have been actually situations of people that took very much delta 8 THC and experienced poor after it sluggish as well as certainly not in full control of their intellectual potentials.
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The reason that our experts need to elaborate on each product format is actually basic; each of these usage methods has a various technique of interacting along with your body. hemp derived delta 10. For instance, one method might need much less time to take in, whereas others may hit you along with a problem. Other factors that may contribute in the metabolic process of delta 8 THC include: Bodyweight bigger folks are going to need greater doses than smaller people - hemp derived delta 8 thc distillate.
A conventional dose is 2040 mg of CBD/ml. Just like any sort of other product that you measure, you need to separate the total amount of delta 8 THC due to the size of liquor, and also you'll always understand the amount of delta 8 THC rests in a singular offering - hemp delta 8. That's given that most manufacturers make use of a solitary dropper (1 ml.) as the typical providing measurements.
Delta 8 THC vapes are actually amongst one of the most prominent formats for this cannabinoid. There are actually 3 styles of delta 8 vapes on the market place: Dosing these products is the same irrespective of the type, therefore allow's clarify on it. 10 dollar cartridge delta 8. A typical solitary dose of vaped d8 is actually one or 3 puffs depending upon the mentioned individual elements.
Individuals along with higher tolerance can get up to 10 drags on the pen at once for rigorous results - can you eat d8 distillate. Delta 8 THC eatable gummies offer a premeasured volume of delta 8 THC commonly between 1040 mg per gummy. 10 mg is actually looked at a great dosage for light-weight consumers and newbies, while the 40 mg dosage is actually preferable for big-time users and also those along with greater endurance to delta 8 THC. δ8-thc.
Delta-8 Thc: Experts Warn That Not All Cannabis Alternatives for Dummies
Similar to gummies, delta 8 THC capsules are very easy to dose as a result of containing a corrected dosage every serving. The bottle supplies precise information regarding the total quantity of delta 8 THC and also the dose in each pill. Typically, one pill equates in to a solitary offering; that's the common used through the majority of producers.
Prior to our company speak about the clinical advantages of this particular cannabinoid, let's speak about just what Delta 8 THC is, and also how it's different from the even more popular, Delta 9 THC. Delta 8 THC (tetrahydrocannabinol) is a typically occurring, slight cannabinoid found in the marijuana vegetation. Although it's structurally identical to Delta 9 THC, there are some primary variations also.
Actually, Delta 8 is not also created by the chemicals in cannabis, instead, it is produced when Delta 9 THC oxidizes as well as gradually deteriorates right into Delta 8. Further destruction of Delta 9 would create the cannabinoid CBN (cannabinol). When it arrives to the chemical variation in between Delta 8 and also Delta 9, it all arrives down to one molecule.
Delta compounds possess even more electrons and also are going to interact with the body system differently than solitary connection cannabinoids. The distinction between the Delta THC cognates arrives down to where the dual bond lies on their link of carbon atoms. Delta 9 possesses this bond on the 9th carbon link, as well as Delta 8 THC possesses the double connection on the 8th carbon chain - pure syringe review.
The designers of the research, led through Raphael Mechulam, kept in mind that "at the same this investigation was happening, there had been actually 480 successful therapies of cancer with delta-8 THC. delta 8 distillate cart." If you lean to stress, the moderate and uplifting higher you obtain from Delta 8 THC may be simply what you require (delta 8 thc delivery near me).
Compliant Delta 8 Distillate Δ8 Thc Can Be Fun For Anyone
The pollutants are thrown away and also the remaining product is filteringed system. Decarboxylation Before being actually left open to heat energy or even air, cannabinoids exist in an acid condition (CBDA, THCA, etc). To turn the vegetation cannabinoids into their energetic condition, the removed solution is heated extensively - delta 8 wholesalers. Purification The last procedure of purification, the answer is vaporized and also accumulated in a purification air conditioning system.
The ultimate item is actually a golden, thick strong product along with a congruity that's similar to honey (delta8 thc). Purification makes it possible for consumers to make a decision the amount of they yearn for an oil to drift from the original plant extraction. Thus, if you're helping make edibles for instance, you would certainly really want an oil along with little to no flavor, to ensure your eatable tastes like food items and not marijuana.
In the happening years, there are a bunch of individuals that aren't heading to be actually seeking the ideal flower, but also for the most effective profile page that you may place all together mathematically." There are actually many even more health care conditions that Delta 8 THC may be made use of for, and also extract can easily permit producers to make products along with extremely higher as well as correct doses of any cannabinoid that can easily be actually chemically removed from the plant.
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Previously pair of years our company've observed the increase of brand-new forms of THC. Nowadays, at Fresh Bros our team lug products made from Delta 8 THC, Delta 9 THC, Delta 10 THC, and also even THC-O Acetate. Nonetheless, this write-up will certainly center mainly on Delta-8 vs Delta-9. Delta 9 is the psychoactive compound present in marijuana that has possessed one of the most focus in recent years besides the non-psychoactive cannabinoid, CBD.
As for the endocannabinoid unit, Delta-9 THC simply activates the CB1 receptor whereas, Delta-8 THC switches on both the CB1 and CB2 receptors. When each receptors are entailed there is actually a linked bodily state called homeostasis, the physical body's natural relaxing state, when it is actually not in a match or match setting.
Little Known Facts About We Believe In Unicorns (And Delta-8).
The marijuana vegetation, including hemp, has more than 120 cannabinoids but merely a handful have actually actually been examined and also industried. Permit's take a deeper take a look at Delta-9 THC (Tetrahydrocannabinol) and also its near cousin Delta-8 THC, as well as know just how they differ. Delta 9 THC is actually the psychedelic compound found in cannabis that has possessed the very most interest over the last few years (delta 8 wholesale companies).
Delta-8 THC has effects that are identical to regular delta-9 THC, nonetheless it is considerably a lot less tough. delta8 concentrate. Delta 8 THC can easily be actually obtained and legitimately purchased in tinctures, vapes, gummies, and even a mixture of CBN and also D8 (for those looking for much better sleep). delta 8 liquid near me. Also, in United States Patents the adhering to is actually said: "8-THC, mostly, generates identical psychometric effects as performs 9-THC, however is typically looked at to be actually 50% a lot less effective" [8-THC] "has been received some scenarios to be 3-10 opportunities less strong" "8-THC has likewise been actually shown to be actually extra (200%) helpful an anti-emetic than 9-THC" What is even more, some study proposes that Delta 8 likely aids folks make a natural chemical referred to as Acetylcholine, which is in charge of memory, knowledge, stimulation, and also neuroplasticity.
Delta-8 comes under a sort of regulatory gray area because it may be actually secured coming from both the hemp and cannabis vegetations and also may be turned from CBD which possesses absolutely no Delta-9 THC present. bulk d8 distillate for sale. If there are actually signs of Delta-9 THC present, it needs to have to become listed below the government regulated level of 0 - pure thc syringe.
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watchtower-feed · 4 years
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Waynesitter’s Runaway Bats
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✧ Sometimes your job requires you to go on little excursions to drag back some family runaways. And when Alfred says little, it means Bruce intends for you to borrow the Batmobile.
✧ “Uhh… Thanks. But I’ll just use Tim’s Prius.”
✧ “Y/N, I insist.”
✧ “Mr. Wayne. I’d rather be bringing home your son and not another Arkham escapee.”
✧ Sometimes the others tag along with you when they’re awake, still alive, or generally just bored.
✧ “Oh my god, Tim. You have the worst songs.”
✧ “Apart from being dead weight in my car, Jason, what else are you good for?”
✧ “Tch. Y/N, Jason brought a gun again.”
✧ “Jason, I swear to god if you fire that gun you better shoot me first.”
✧ Whenever Dick runs away, he always goes to Amusement Mile, Gotham’s entertainment district, where Haley’s Circus used to be. When something really bad happens, Dick would actually leave town to follow the Circus’ tour. But for now, you pull over by the boardwalk.
✧ “Stay in the car.”
✧ “What if there’s trouble?”
✧ “I’ll light up a bat signal.”
✧ “Harhar, Y/N.”
✧ You quickly find Dick inside the large tent just sitting in the middle of the ring. He always greets you with a sheepish smile and pursed lips.
✧ “Time to go back already?”
✧ “I have two volatile children and Tim stuck in a Prius so…”
✧ Dick laughs and slowly gets up. “Okay.” When he reaches you, he stops and rests his head on your shoulder. You hear him sigh and quietly say, “I don’t know what I’m doing, Y/N. I’m no leader.”
✧ It’s one of those days. One when all the responsibility is on Dick’s shoulders and he feels like no one taught him how to be an adult. Not his parents. Not Bruce or Alfred. He still feels like a child. Most of the time you think he’s more a child than Damian. But the innocent kind. Not the murder you in your sleep kind. Or the annoying brat kind in general.
✧ “Y/N.”
✧ “Oh, sorry. I spaced out.”
✧ “Y/N!” he chuckles, “this is supposed to be the part where you say something that’ll motivate me to do the right thing.”
✧ “The right thing? I don’t even know the difference between laundry detergent and fabric conditioner. They both just clean clothes, right?” 
✧ He laughs. “Right.”
✧ “But Dick… No one’s ever going to say the exact thing you need to hear because only you know what that is. You just have to be patient with yourself and continue to listen to your gut. The fact that you’re here means you feel like you did something wrong. So it’s time to go and fix it.”
✧ As far as your speeches go, persuading Dick to go home is the easiest. But when it comes to Tim, you need to be a bit more creative. Or diabolical.
✧ “Uh, Robin. Your babysitter’s here to see you.”
✧ “Don’t let--”
✧ “Thanks, Beast Boy. Next time you’re in Gotham I’ll give you a tour of the cave. Oh hey, Tim. Fancy seeing you here.”
✧ “You’re in San Francisco. You’re at the Titans Tower. You know I would be here.”
✧ “Really? But why would you be all the way here when they need you in Gotham? BB just told me--”
✧ “BB??”
✧ “-- that the other Titans are home for the summer. Like you should be. Suspicious.”
✧ “Why are you here, Y/N?”
✧ You smile and take out a small folder from your bag. “I need help with Chemistry--”
✧ “Chemistry? You’re a lit maj-- Wait a minute… These are the compounds for Scarecrow’s fear toxin.”
✧ “Nope. Look at the bonding element.”
✧ “... It’s... It’s a mutation of Joker’s laughing gas!”
✧ Of course, once you get back, you’ll tell Tim you just fudged elements together and you’re surprised and proud of yourself for making up a whole new deadly chemical. By then, Damian or Jason is ready to apologize to Tim just like you practiced.
✧ On the other side of the spectrum, the least bat you have to worry about is Cass. Whenever she goes missing it’s the only time you volunteer to bring a Wayne back. Only because you always find her sitting on your couch hugging a bowl of popcorn.
✧ “What series are we binging tonight, Y/N?”
✧ “Legends of Tomorrow? It’s about a group of misfit superheroes who fixes history. You might recognize a few costumes.”
✧ Cass recognizes all of them. Sometimes you forget that Cass isn’t a civilian and she’s even more of a vigilante than the boys. That this is what most her life has been and she has no inclination to quit it.
✧ “Can I live with you?”
✧ “You can’t, Cass. You’ll know all my bad habits and then you won’t want to be my friend.”
✧ “You’re more than a friend, Y/N. You’re family.”
✧ “Oh god. I mean no offense, Cass. I love you, but the only reason you’re always trying to kill each other is because you’re family. I don’t want to be in your Lord of the Flies.”
✧ Cass doesn’t really get it. “They know every bad thing about me… but they still want me.”
✧ “Oh.”
✧ Cass is the most observant person you know. She knows exactly how the family feels about her and they would move Earths for her. But having never experienced any kind of love growing up and then jumping into their unconditional love, it shocks you and leaves you anxious about the day when the dream is over.
✧ “You can live with me one day but you gotta pay rent. I’m not letting you mooch off of me.”
✧ Cass smiles at you. You turn back to the TV and she curls up beside you all night before you take her home in the morning.
✧ Jason’s another one that’s easy to find. He always holes up in his own apartment because no one in his family would dare bother him there when he’s in a mood. This is one of those moments when you’re glad you’re not family.
✧ “Open up, Zombie boy!”
✧ “When are you going to stop calling me that?”
✧ “When you go to a derma and finally get rid of those autopsy scars. Seriously, Jason, they’re unsettling.”
✧ Jason touches his chest and then stays quiet the whole time you settle yourself in his apartment. With Jason, there are no words or tricks to play. Whenever he’s seen too much of the family he just needs time and distance. You’re only there to shorten that time and make sure the distance stays within city limits.
✧ “Can you sing it again?”
✧ But Jason makes you pay the highest price. Ever since he heard you whistle and sing The Dancing and the Dreaming from How to Train Your Dragon 2, he always asks you to sing it when he’s not particularly feeling high on his horse. So how could you refuse?
✧ “Sure. But could we not do a duet this time? It makes me feel like we’re having a Viking wedding.”
✧ “Damian would love that.”
✧ It’s bad. If Jason doesn’t fight you for that duet and just wants to close his eyes and listen, then something really bad happened. So you sing while you watch Jason relax in his chair. You maintain a slow tempo throughout the whole song.
✧ When Jason finally opens his eyes, tears slip through. He’s staring at you with wide eyes and he touches his cheeks, wondering why they’re wet. Your lips quiver and you bite them before you approach Jason and wipe his cheeks.
✧ “Was my singing that bad?”
✧ Jason blows on your face and laughs even though he’s still crying.
✧ You didn’t really know what to do when Alfred told you Damian ran back home. Isn’t this his home? But when you’re strapped in the batplane with the Batman, especially since he’s also your boss, you can’t really opt out anymore.
✧ “Mr. W-- Er Batman? Is it really smart to bring civilian me to the base of one of your mortal enemies?”
✧ “The League knows all of our identities--”
✧ “Yeah, but I think I’d feel a lot safer in a bullet-proof costume like yours. No offense.”
✧ “They use swords here, Y/N.”
✧ “Oh… kevlar can’t stop that?”
✧ When you arrive, the fortress is even more intimidating and terrifying than you imagined. You stick close to Batman, clutching his cape, and warily eye the assassins clad in all black, stationed at almost every corner.
✧ “It sort of feels like the cave. Maybe if you trained more bats, you can finally get some sleep or go to your 10 AM meetings.”
✧ Batman can’t suppress his grin. “Do you really want more of them to take care of?”
✧ “I would quit. Or make you quadruple my salary.”
✧ When you finally see Damian after several days of his disappearance, you forget yourself and run to him, only to be met with the hilt of a sword an inch away from your neck.
✧ Damian’s eyes widen when he realizes it’s you and drops his sword. He looks horrified. Quickly forgetting your own shock, you bend down and pick him up to hold him tight in your arms. You can feel him sobbing against your shoulder.
✧ “Beloved. I see you’ve started involving your servants in your crusade.”
✧ “Don’t be jealous, Talia. She’s only family.”
✧ “Damian,” you whisper. “Ready to go home? I might need your help in stopping Bruce from adopting me.”
✧ Damian sniffs. “That mustn’t happen if we’re going to be married in the future.”
✧ You don’t leave Damian’s side until you get back to the manor. You stay later just to lie beside him in his bed until he falls asleep. You’re brushing his hair when a thought comes to you. “You know, in the future, maybe run away to Paris. I hear they have an old cave network there. It might take me days or weeks to bring you home.”
✧ Damian scoffs and smiles. He turns to his other side, away from you. “Y/N, I’m trying to sleep.”
✧ “Yeah, but think about it okay? What are you doing tomorrow?”
Notes: Here’s that version of the song YN sings to Jason. Fair warning, it’s a Drarry animation.
✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧
415 notes · View notes
moonlit-melodies · 3 years
Text
A Day At The Fair (Original Story)
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Written: June 23, 2020 / Posted: December 9, 2020
Warnings: None / Word Count: 2,515 words
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Tia hadn’t been to the state fair in years. Not because her parents didn’t let her, but because she just wasn’t interested in going. It’s always seemed too loud, too noisy, too filled with children and germs. But the week before, her friends were begging her to join them for just one day.
Her mom smiled at her as she dropped her off on the side of the road, just outside of the fair. She could see her friends sitting and chatting next to the greenery hanging from the walls of the fair.
“Have fun, Fatia,” her mom said, kissing her forehead before she hopped out of the car. After waving goodbye to her mother, Tia walked over to where her friends sat, talking about their previous DnD campaign. Olivia looked up at her, smiled and waved.
“Tia!”
The others looked up and ran to hug Tia, as if they hadn’t just seen each other at school the day before.
“Do we all have money for tickets?” Valerie, the eldest of the group, asked, standing from where she was sitting. Lydia, Valerie’s nearly identical twin sister, had cash for the both of them. Tia tapped her purse, and Liv nodded.
Tia had first met Lydia and Valerie in fifth grade, when they and a few other kids were part of their school’s first all-girls Robotics team. Two years later, Olivia came to their school. The four of them bonded over their shared love of musicals, Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter. Now, they’re a nerdy group of friends who sing Newsies during lunch or recess, and Les Miserables during field trips.
The four of them all walked to the entrance, chattering about their homework assignments and games. They passed through security, Tia opening her purse to the guard anxiously before he waved her past to join her friends.
She grabbed a map from the booth as they walked past, and opened it. She always adored staring at maps, from game treasure maps to museum maps. It seemed that fair maps were no different. She was the one in her household with the best sense of direction. “One of the good things I got from Dad,” she used to say.
“Where do we want to go first?” Tia asked. Lydia peered at the map over her shoulder.
“We should go to the game alley,” Liv suggested.
“We should go to the rides,” Lydia said, much louder, her finger jabbing at a spot on the map. “The Tornado is five tickets per ride, and I have enough for ten tickets for myself.”
They all agreed to ride The Tornado first. Tia led the group through the fair, marching through crowds of children waving balloon swords and college-aged people wielding corn dogs and cotton candy. The smell of fried fair food, combined with the bright colors of food stands and bright lights was almost disorienting, making her feel slightly nauseated.
They each purchased five tickets each from a ticket booth, so that they each had just enough for cookies from Sweet Martha’s Cookie Jar, and headed for The Tornado.
The ride took them soaring through the sky like birds. Tia couldn’t remember the last time she felt so much joy from a fair ride. That morning, she had been running through all of the bad things that could happen at the fair, but she has not yet experienced anything negative here. If anything, she felt like there was nowhere more fun than this place, this ride, with her friends.
After the ride finished, Tia dusted off her skirt and took out the map, still somewhat dizzy from the ride. The four friends decided to walk through the game alley, which was less than a minute away, despite the fact that they knew all of the games were rigged.
“Woah, look at that Enderman doll.” Tia pointed at the game stall that had dozens of Minecraft Endermen hanging from the ceiling. The sign stated that five wins on the game were required for the doll, and Tia frowned. How disappointing. It would take a miracle to win those rigged games. She knew that. Her eyes moved onto the next stall, and her eyes bugged out even wider. “And that stuffed cat!”
Tia hadn’t thought that coming to the fair would renew her love for stuffed animals. When she’d lived at her dad’s house, she’d collected at least two dozen stuffed animals, from hand-sized cats to a head-sized Totoro. After she’d left to live with her mom at age twelve, she’d left almost all of them there, and her collection was reduced to a single stuffed cheetah. Back then, she’d come to terms with the fact that she’d never get to rebuild that collection. But now that she was here, she felt a strong need to hold a stuffed animal.
Valerie giggled at Tia’s oohs and aahs as they passed through the game alley. "You know those things are scams, right?"
"I do know! We talked about them in math class two weeks ago," Tia said, pouting, but she felt just the tiniest bit blushy as Valerie poked at her.
Tia was the youngest--and shortest--of the group, and was considered the baby of the group. In all honesty, she didn't mind being babied. She was usually the one in charge, what with being the captain of the Robotics team, so being babies by her friends gave her a break from being the oldest and in charge.
The group stopped to talk about what they wanted to do with the rest of their time at the fair. They discussed spending some time at the animal farms (Tia insisted on visiting the horses, despite being allergic to them), and later on getting cookies from Sweet Martha’s.
Tia could see a bit farther down the game alley that there was a booth decorated with hundreds of variously-sized stuffed dogs hanging by their tails, far enough that Tia could barely see the balloon dart board. A sign against the wall read in all capital letters, 'POP FIVE BALLOONS TO WIN! ONE WIN FOR A SMALL DOG! THREE FOR A MEDIUM DOG! FIVE FOR A LARGE DOG!' Tia felt as if the sign was yelling at her, taunting her, telling her that she won’t get a dog.
“Look at how  big that dog is,” Tia murmured.
“What if two of us pretended they were dating and tried to trick the employee into giving us one?” Lov said, poking Tia’s shoulder. 
Lydia laughed. “You could try the ‘Oh babe, I don’t have enough to do the game’ thing, and if that doesn’t work, bribe him with this twenty,” Lydia said, taking out a twenty from her wallet.
“We should try,” Liv said. “Even if it doesn’t work. It’d be fun. Who wants to be the girlfriends?” Liv asked. “Not me.”
“I think I can,” Tia suggested nervously, shifting her weight between her feet. “After all, I’m the one who wanted the dog in the first place.”
“Alright, makes sense. Lydia? Valerie? Who’s the other girlfriend?” Liv asked.
“I vote Val,” Lydia said, raising her hand. “She’s the better theater kid, anyway.”
“Why not? You’re a theater kid, too,” Olivia said with a frown.
“Yeah, but I’m tech. Lights and sound and set, not acting.”
“Alright. I could probably play a better lesbian, what with actually being a lesbian,” Valerie said, looping her arm through Tia’s, making her cheeks heat up just a bit.
“So how do we do this?” Tia asked, trying to imagine the scenario. “Do I ask Val to win me a stuffed dog, and then she tells me she doesn't have enough to win me the dog? And then we ask the employee to give us one, and if  needed, we bribe him with the twenty?”
“Exactly.” Valerie said. As she straightened her shirt, she laughed. “We do make a cute couple, though, don’t we?” she asked, looking down at their outfits. Valerie was dressed in dark, torn jeans and a black shirt beneath a red flannel--despite the hot weather--paired with black lace-up boots, while Tia wore a flowy, pastel-pink skirt, a frilly white blouse, and her fluffy hair was held back with a soft pink headband. They looked a bit like every stereotypical goth-girl/soft-pastel-princess instagram or tumblr lesbian couple. You know the ones. One half of the couple looks like they never completely got out of their My Chemical Romance based emo phase, while the other dresses in the colors of cotton candy and looks about as intimidating as a marshmallow. That was Valerie and Tia.
"Alright," Liv said. "We probably shouldn't meet up back here after. We’re too close, and it'll be too suspicious if you go back the way you came."
"Let's meet back at The Tornado, then," Tia suggested. The rest of the group agreed.
“C’mon, honey,” Valerie said, her hand sliding down to clasp Tia’s, taking her by surprise. She usually didn’t mind holding hands with her friends, including Lydia and Liv, but for some reason, this made her feel like butterflies were fluttering around in her stomach.
Valerie led her closer to the booth, and Tia followed behind, recollecting her thoughts. As they neared the stall, Tia grew nervous. She clung to Valerie’s arm tighter, and she didn’t know if it was for the act, or if it was out of fear. Tia was known in the friend group for the worst poker face--which is why she chose to be an IB Visual Arts student instead of an IB Theater student like Lydia and Valerie--but hopefully Valerie, best poker face and theater gay, would make up for everything Tia lacked.
The employee, a thirty-five or forty-five year old man blowing up balloons for the dart board, didn’t look like he would fall for their act. He turned in their direction, and Tia turned to Valerie, putting on her best puppy dog eyes.
“Babe, can you pretty please win me that doggy?” Tia asked, pointing at one of the bigger dogs hanging from the roof of the game stall. She almost laughed at herself, wondering if she was overdoing it. She could see Liv and Lydia snickering out of the corner of her eye, just out of sight from the vendor.
“Sweetness, you know I would, but I suck at these fair games and I only have twenty dollars on me, and we want fair snacks later," Valerie said, squeezing Tia's hand and putting the other on her shoulder, speaking loudly enough for the vendor to hear but not so loud that it was obvious.
"But ba-abe," Tia whined, shaking her head so that her fluffy hair flew up. "It's so cute! Look at his little face. His nose is so cute!" She gestured to the giant stuffed dog again.
Valerie smiled, and Tia could tell she was trying to contain her laughter. What happened to Poker Faced Val? "I'll see what I can do, sweetheart," Val said, and Tia couldn't help but blush. Hopefully that had helped with their performance.
Valerie let go of Tia's hand and stepped closer to the booth. Tia observed, twirling her hips innocently and clutching her purse as Valerie addressed the vendor, who had been watching them fondly.
"Sir, do you suppose I'd be able to have that dog for my girlfriend?" Tia heard Valerie say, and she couldn't help but smile at that last word. The vendor smiled, but shook his head.
"I'm sorry, but you'd have to win this dart game five times," the vendor said. "You could win three times for a medium, and once for a small one."
Valerie sighed, and Tia leaned forward to listen more. "Sir, I don't have enough money or skill to win the dart game five times. I haven't been able to get my girlfriend anything yet at the fair, and I really really want this for her."
Tia tried hard not to laugh. Valerie was doing so very well. She smiled softly to disguise her amusement with adoration for her 'girlfriend' Valerie.
"Tia, baby."
She focused her attention back to the situation. Valerie was beckoning her to come over, and she skipped over quickly. Immediately, she slid her hand into Valerie's, and smiled up innocently at the booth's vendor.
"Hello," she said.
"Hello," the vendor said, a pleasant smile on his face.
"Sir," Valerie continued. "I do have twenty dollars on me. I'll buy the dog from you." She took the twenty dollars out of her pocket.
"Please sir?" Tia asked. The vender sighed and shook his head.
"I'm sorry, ladies, but I can't."
"How about for the medium-sized ones, sir?" Tia asked. The vendor shook his head again. "Small ones? Please?" Tia asked, staring into the eyes of one of the smaller dogs' eyes. It could fit in her hand.
"I'm sorry, ladies," he said.
"How much do you make, sir, as a vendor?" Valerie asked politely.
"I make eleven dollars per hour."
"You could have these twenty dollars, twice your hourly pay, in exchange for one tiny dog they won't even notice," Valerie said.
"I'm okay, thank you." His tone of voice had remained the same the whole time since they'd arrived. He was polite and calm, despite Valerie’s pushing.
"Sir, what is your name?" Valerie asked.
"Jared."
"Jared," Valerie said. "I have a proposal. I could give you this twenty dollar bill, and I could put in a good word for you, in exchange for a small dog."
"I can't do that, ladies," Jared the booth vendor said.
Tia sighed. This guy seemed awfully dedicated to his eleven-dollars-per-hour fair job, which was just over two dollars over minimum wage, and there seemed no point in trying more.
Valerie took a deep breath, and it seemed that, unlike Tia, she wasn't ready to give up just yet. "Sir, you, among many others, are underpaid in this capitalistic society." Jared chuckled. "These dogs are worth maybe--"
"Babe!" Tia said, tugging at Valerie's arm. "It's okay, I don't need the doggy." In addition to feeling as though nothing would break him, Tia was worried that maybe Jared had caught on, and she hated confrontation. She turned to the vendor. "Thank you for your time, sir."
She dragged Valerie away, bowing her head to appear sad and clinging onto her arm until they were definitely out of sight. The fake couple met up with Liv and Lydia by The Tornado, and they all started laughing.
"You two were quite a convincing couple," Liv remarked. "Shame he didn't give you a dog, though."
"Yeah. They were cute."
"You don’t have to hold hands anymore," Lydia pointed out.
Tia looked down and quickly removed her hand from Valerie’s. To be honest, she didn't even remember that she was holding her hand. She couldn't help but smile.
"Let's try again next year, yeah?" Valerie suggested, elbowing Tia gently. "Maybe then you'll have a better poker face. And we might be able to be a lot cuter."
“Alright, nerds, let’s go to Sweet Martha’s. I’m really craving some cookies,” Liv said. “Tia, lead the way!”
6 notes · View notes
springday-aus · 4 years
Text
iKon’s Bobby: The Second Chance
Fic Piece Written by: Admin Grandma of @springday-aus​
Moodboard Link: Created By Admin Grandpa
Character Pairing: Y/N [gn] and iKON’s Kim Ji Won (Bobby) 
Other Characters: Twice [Momo and Jeongyeon] and ex-soulmate!Jisoo [Blackpink] 
Genre: romance, little angst (if you squint hard enough), soulmate!au with Bobby (timer + words of the first exchange) 
Type: one-shot writing piece
Word Count: approx. 4k 
Plot Summary: everyone has a destined soulmate, which can be found through a timer and the words of their first exchange. It was created by the gods to help the humans, in leading a less-chaotic life. Ironically enough, this whole soulmate fiasco is unneeded chaos you would rather live without. 
⤷ Alternatively: who the hell says “oh, shit” to their soulmate when they first meet? 
Warnings: long-ass intro/set-up before Bobby is introduced; mentions of polytheism; profanity 
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You stare down at the personal time bomb that’s permanently tattooed along your arm. No matter how hard you increasingly stare at it, the time continues to go down—second by second. You already seem to have begrudgingly admitted your fate as you lay your head in between your history textbook. 
You’re doomed. Today’s the day. You’re going to meet your soulmate and it doesn’t seem like the gods were willing to push it back any further. 
In another world, you would’ve chosen a life without a soulmate bond. You’re happy with the way you’re life is going now. Things are just settling. You’ve finally gotten your own apartment; you have a stable paycheck and you’re actually able to study what interests you. You might be research soulmates, but you weren’t supposed to worry about meeting your new soulmate for another five years. So, why did no one out of nowhere have to invade your life now? 
Too preoccupied with your misery, you don’t notice the little chime from the library’s cafe door. Momo enters, looking past the bookshelves and tables for you—her ankle boots quickly clack on the polished wooden floors as she makes her way through. 
She spots you in the corner and walks over, dropping her books on the table. “There you are,” she says. “Sit up, you look like you’re dying.” She takes the seat in front of you, taking in the depression cloud that hovers over your head. “You know, you’re in a public space. You could at least have a nervous breakdown at home, like a normal person.” 
You groan. “You don’t even know the half of  it.” 
“Okay, try me. What happened?” 
You simply lay out your arm out, displaying the little numbers counting down. 
“You’re meeting your soulmate today? That’s great! I thought you had, like, what? Four—or was it five? Five years, right?” 
You finally look at her. “It was five years. But, for some odd reason, the time jumped when I made the decision to meet you and Jeongyeon.” 
Momo grins at you. “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with that anymore. I think the anxiety would have killed me.” 
“Let’s just move on. Did you order anything yet?” 
“No, not yet. I’ll go now, since I know you’re not actually dying.” Momo flashes another smile at you, before leaving the table to head towards the counter. 
Meanwhile, you sit yourself up and clear the table of your previous set-up. It’s fine—everything’s fine. You’ll just focus on what you’re here for in the first place. You pull out your phone for the recording, as well as a notebook and several colored pens. Once Jeongyeon arrives at noon, you can officially start the interview process. Your research is more centered on abnormal soulmate bonds, but you still need normal couples to compare to—Momo and Jeongyeon are the most normal of couples you happen to know. 
You take the last sip of your tea and glance around. The library cafe is supposed to be another study area for university students, but it seems like it’s been overtaken by couples. The open windows allow a bizarre amount of sunlight to pour onto the lovey-dovey atmosphere. Empty cups and plates rest on the occupied tables, and everyone’s eyes sparkle as they look into their sweetheart’s eyes, clearly too invested in whatever the hell they’re talking about. Love: what a gross concept.
Momo comes back, with two coffees in hand and Jeongyeon right behind her. They both settle themselves in the seats facing you, setting down their bags and taking off their jackets. 
“Geez, (Y/N),” Jeongyeon says. “Try not to look too disgusted.” 
“I can’t help what I feel.” 
“Go easy on her,” Momo says. “She’s a bit moodier than usual.” 
“Oh?” Jeongyeon turns to you with wide eyes. “Why’s that?” 
You visibly grimace, practically retreating back into your shell. Momo chuckles, before answering for you. “(Y/N)’s soulmate meeting is happening today.” 
“That’s exciting!” 
You let out a laugh, but it’s one of disbelief and slight dread. “No, Jeongyeon. It’s not.” 
“Why are you even studying soulmates if you hate them so much?” 
“To prove my point.” 
“Which is?” 
“That love is absolute bullshit,” you say. “Even with the gods involved. You know that divorce rates haven’t entirely diminished, right? My research proves that at least three percent of soulmate bonds don’t actually work out. Seventy percent of soulmates may have succeeded, but ten percent have the possibility of getting reassigned.” 
“Yup,” Momo says. “That’s our lil’ ray of sunshine.” Her eyebrows furrow, realizing something. “Isn’t this, like, a conflict of interest? You know, since you and Jisoo ended up splitting—” 
“Nope.” You cut her off, refusing to let her bring up that painful memory. “Nope, none at all.” 
Momo gives her a pointed look. 
“Drink your coffee,” you say to her. You focus your attention elsewhere. You clear your throat, in hopes of moving away from the topic of your first-soulmate rejection. Luckily, the Jisoo incident happened before Jeongyeon joined your little friend group as Momo’s soulmate, but it doesn’t hurt any less because you don’t bring it up often. 
You try not to think about Jisoo often, especially since you were basically kids when you’d first met. You don’t think about how you felt when you first saw her on the kickball field in the fourth grade, or how the wind danced with her hair and the light sparkled against her skin. You don’t remember how bright Jisoo’s smile was when you first looked at each other. You don’t think about you practically spent your entire childhood together—up until sophomore year. 
You don’t think about how much pain you felt when someone—who you were supposed to be with for the rest of your life—suddenly left you because the gods decided you were no longer meant to be together. You don’t think about how shocked you were when Jisoo dropped their relationship so quickly once her timer reset. You don’t think about how angry you still are whenever you see those stupid teenage soulmate bondings in front of your face, as if the gods are rubbing salt into your wounds. 
You don’t think about how Jisoo and stupid Junmyeon got together a bit too quickly, especially when you two had only broken up a week ago. You don’t think about how they were practically showcasing their relationship all throughout the rest of high school. You don’t think about how they’re probably married now, living in some generic neighborhood with their stupid kids and stupid minivan. 
Nope, you don’t think about it at all. 
Your fists clench, nearly snapping the pen in your hand. Momo sips on her coffee. 
Jeongyeon glances between you two before speaking up. “So, why are we here? I think our soulmate bonding went just fine.” 
You try to refocus, racking your brain for the right words. “From what I remember, you didn’t have some corny Nicholas Sparks designed meeting. Plus, I’ve known Momo since middle school, so I can ask whatever I want to get the data I need.” 
Jeongyeon hums in agreement. Then, she leans towards you with a particular look in her eyes. “You know, there’s conspiracy theories that the government is behind all of this. They all probably drugged our water and all of this is an illusion.” 
“What are you talking about?” 
“The theories. There’s one that says pollution is to blame. All those harmful chemicals that are up in the air, went into our water, and it’s causing us to hallucinate. The government is using this to cover it up.” 
Momo rolls her eyes. “Yeonnie, you think the government’s involved with everything.” 
Jeongyeon turns her body towards Momo. “We’re in the presence of an expert—” 
“Grad student.” 
“—we might as well confirm it.” 
“First of all,” you say. “That’s not how this works.” You pause, placing a hand under your chin and the other to twirl your pen. “You two experienced it first-hand, shouldn’t you understand how this works better than I do?” 
“Our first exchange was rather generic,” Momo says. “Someone else introduced us. The first words Jeongyeon said to me was literally ‘what up my guy.’” 
To prove her point further, she shows the words inscribed on her wrist—written in perfect little cursive, alongside a blank timer that’s clean of numbers in line. 
“We met in high school,” Jeongyeon says. “You should’ve known there was gonna be a stupid line on there. It’s not like yours was any better. Do you think I enjoyed having the words ‘I’m sorry, what?” on my wrist?” 
“I needed you to repeat the words! I didn’t actually think you’d be my soulmate.” 
“Didn’t you hear the chimes, bells—whatever you call them—when I said it? Or the little tingle from your arm?” 
“Well, I did. But I needed to confirm it. At least, that’s what I was thinking at the time.” 
“You know,” you say. “The whole point of the chimes and the timer tingle, as you called it, is for you to know that that person is your soulmate. The research time assumes the gods made that modification, after the fraud crimes started to go up around the first generation of the soulmate bonds.” 
“That was a thing?” Jeongyeon asks. 
You nod. “That—that was actually a thing.” 
“Wait, (Y/N),” Momo says. “You got a new phrase! What does yours say now?” 
The couple stare at you, but you move your arms underneath the table and turn away. In hopes that they wouldn’t be able to hear you, you mutter under your breath. “It says, ‘oh shit.’” 
Unfortunately for you, Jeongyeon picks up on it. “Oh shit?” 
You nod slowly, feeling yourself sink into your seat, and reconfirming her words. “It says ‘oh shit.’” 
“Oh,” Momo says. “Shit.” 
You sigh. 
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as it seems,” Jeongyeon says. 
“Yeah,” Momo says. “Maybe the gods have something special planned for you, especially since they kind of screwed you over the first time.” 
You lean back against your chair, your arms wrapping themselves around you tighter. “Let’s just focus back on you two. After this, I just need to go home and stay home. If I’m lucky, nothing will happen and the time will change back to five years.” 
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Your plans to hole yourself in at home are officially ruined. 
After the official interview session, Momo and Jeongyeon were planning on going to the farmers market. However, Jeongyeon had forgotten she’d already made plans with an old friend of hers—something about an engagement and party planning—which is how Momo successfully ropes you into coming with her instead. 
“Come on, (Y/N),” Momo says. “They probably have some of those fruits that you like. You don’t even need to worry about meeting your soulmate yet. You have time.” 
So, here you are at the farmers market in front of a grape stand. Momo stands over each bundle, inspecting each bunch carefully. Meanwhile, you’re just there, next to her, smiling awkwardly at the lady on the other side of the time from time to time. 
For a while, you stand there in silence, but then you finally ask her. “Do I really need to be here?” 
“Yes, I’m not like you,” Momo says. “I can’t be alone for a long period of time.” 
“You were probably going to be here for a couple of hours max.” 
“Still. I don’t like being out alone. You should know this by now.” 
“Gods bless for Jeongyeon.” 
“Speaking of which,” Momo says, trying to be cautious with her words. “I don’t think you have to worry about your new soulmate.” 
“Momo, I really don’t want to talk about this.”
“I know you don’t. But, this could be good for you. You haven’t been the same since Jisoo left and I know you’re still hurt, but it happened in sophomore year. You need to move on...maybe that’s why you’re meeting your new soulmate today.” 
“That can still change.” 
“I don’t think you should get your hopes up. It’s been years since Jisoo. Face the facts: this is happening today.” 
You sigh, knowing Momo isn’t going to let go of the subject. “Well, I still think this whole scheme is bullshit.” You pick at the stems of some of grapes in arm’s reach. “The gods should have left me alone after deciding to pair off Jisoo and Junmyeon together.” 
“They’re able to find their happiness. You have the right to find yours too.” Momo stands back up, facing you. “All of this.” She gestures towards your face. “Is more of a reason to push it.” 
“But, why?” 
“Well, you know what they say.” 
“No, I don’t.” 
“‘The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.’” 
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Momo’s car rolls up in front of your apartment complex. After putting it into park and turning on her blinkers, she looks at you, but you’re already unbuckling yourself from the car seat. 
“Have a fun night in with Coconut.” 
“Oh, I plan to. And, please let Jeongyeon know I said thanks again for today.” 
“Of course.” 
With that said, you get out of the car and slam the door shut, ready to wrap yourself in a soft blanket and cuddle with your cat. You’re able to head into the building, only to hear Momo shout from her car window. “Hey! Wait!” 
You turn around. “What?” 
“Keep me updated on the soulmate thing! Let me know how it goes.” 
“Alright, bye.” 
“Bye!” 
With a wave, you watch Momo’s care drive off. You take notice of a familiar car that rolls up to the building. Gods, it’s your neighbor from across the hall. He has never personally disturbed you, but it wouldn’t hurt anyone if he learned how to properly park his car, play his music at a more appropriate volume, or have less house parties on weeknights. You understand that he’s a more social person, at least more social than you, but still. 
What’s his name again? It starts with a B... Brian? Billy? Bob? It’s Bobby! You vaguely remember seeing it on his mailbox. You really should make an effort to know your neighbors better. Someone could be a serial killer and you wouldn’t even know it. You shake your head, taking yourself out of your thoughts. 
You enter the building swiftly, in hopes of avoiding Bobby. You walk through the lobby and into the elevator, pressing the button for the sixth floor. As the doors start to close, a hand comes between the doors and you have to suppress a groan. 
Bobby’s face pops in with an apologetic smile, but it doesn’t stop you from giving him a couple of choice words in your head. You look away from him, trying not to make eye contact. 
Despite being neighbors, you don’t talk to one another. Granted, it’s normal since it’s only been a couple of months since you’ve officially moved in. But, you can’t seem to recall if you’ve actually spoken to him. There’s been the polite smiles, nods, and the occasional waves (and some secret glares you give him from previously mentioned disturbances), but never an actual greeting. 
Although, you have heard things. It’s not that you mean to eavesdrop—it just happens. The rooms are close enough and the walls are fairly thin; eavesdropping was bound to occur. One night, you were organizing your data from the previous week, you had overheard one of Bobby’s friends (Junhoe, maybe?) laughing his ass off from across the hall. Long story short, whenever he meets his soulmate, they won’t be thrilled to meet him. 
You couldn’t help yourself from glancing down at his arm. It’s fully covered by his shirt’s sleeve, yet the wrist exposes his partner’s oh-so special words: you need to get the fuck off of me. You almost laugh aloud just thinking about it, but you suppress it by biting on your lower lip and focus on the elevator’s floor. 
Yeah, he could play his music a bit quieter and learn how to wear less cologne, but you can’t help but feel sorry for the poor guy. You can only imagine what would happen for those words to be uttered. 
The elevator stops at the sixth floor and the both of you get off—footsteps matching one another’s. You remain silent as you both make your way to the end of the hall. With another polite smile exchanged to one another, you unlock your door and step into your respective home. 
Once you shut the front door, you’re greeted by Coconut. You can’t help but coo at the little ball of white fur that walks between your legs, rubbing his head on your ankles with a soft purr. 
“Hi baby, did you miss me?” You pick him up, hugging him against your chest. “It’s just you and me tonight.” 
You bounce him a bit in your arms, lost in your own world and that’s when you hear it—a strong bass beat plays in the background. Your face contorts—gods, you’re really praying for his soulmate. 
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The bright light of the TV shines against the darkness of your living room—well, at least you and your couch. You sit cross-legged with Coconut lying comfortably on your lap, a blanket on your shoulders, and the remote in hand. You go through the movie selection your Netflix account, before debating whether or not if you should watch something else or just bury yourself underneath your sheets to avoid your up-incoming doom. 
You could binge-watch a random show for the time to go by quicker, or you could take one of your fifty milligram sleeping pills—which Jeongyeon gave you a while back. One of those suckers is enough to knock you out for the next twelve hours. 
If you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t really feel the need to do anything too drastic. You’re prepared to stay in for quite a few days. You’re well-stocked on food and you don’t need to go to the lab until the next week. Also, Coconut doesn’t need to go out, so that means you don’t have to go out. Had you gotten that cute Pomeranian from the shelter instead, you might’ve had to meet your soulmate sooner rather than later. 
You find yourself grimacing once more at the thought of having to meet your new soulmate. If the first one didn’t work out, what’s to stop the second one from doing just the same? Granted, you’ve interviewed a lot of couples and most worked out on the second try. Key term: most. 
There was that one lady who divorced, at least, three of her soulmates. The gods must have given up after the third try, because she ended up dying alone. You should’ve been left along, just like that lady. 
Jisoo is certainly thriving with her new soulmate—you can say whatever you want, but nothing’s stopping you from seeing all the godsforsaken photos on Facebook or Instagram. 
Nope. Nope, you’re not dealing with this. You’ve already covered up the timer with some bandage wrap (who knew that the first aid kit would come in handy) to prevent yourself from looking at it all night. Maybe if you sleep now, the would just reset back to five years. That sounds reasonable...right? 
No one has ever successfully avoided their soulmate. All throughout history, it shows that timers would just reset. You aren’t trying to avoid your soulmate forever—you’re just trying to avoid whoever your soulmate is now. You were fine with waiting for five years, or even ten. What are the gods thinking? You’re not ready for this. You should’ve been given a warning or something: all of this is just giving you a migraine. 
You shut off the TV and move yourself off the couch, despite Coconut’s protesting meows. You move towards the door and the windows, making sure they are securely locked. You might not trying to find your soulmate, but that doesn’t stop the gods from making them coming to you. Shame that there’s nothing you can do about the fire escape; that’s a lost cause. 
As you look out the window, you can easily spot out Bobby once again. What is it about today that you’re seeing him all over the place? He’s dressed in more casual war—compared to when you saw him in the elevator. He’s yelling and laughing with some of his friends in plain sight. 
“I’m meeting my soulmate today!” He yells. “Whatever happens, happens!” 
All of them start to chant like frat boys. “Bar hop! Bar hop! Bar hop!” 
Oh dear gods. 
You move yourself away from the window and go over your mental checklist again. After securing the locks one more time, you walk over to your bedroom and crawl into the full-sized bed, quickly making yourself familiar with your sheets. Coconut follows shortly after, jumping onto the bed and nuzzling his nose towards you. 
Reaching out, you pet him and scratch his chin, then you speak with a soft whisper. “Good night, Coco.” 
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Someone’s in the living room. 
You’re trying to ignore it. 
There’s a crash, followed by a couple of swear words, which is followed by another crash. 
Coconut has woken up, meowing at the closed door that separates you from possibly experiencing life or death. You bury your head further into the pillow. This—this cannot be happening right now. 
You should’ve taken the sleeping pill. 
There’s another crash, followed by heavy footsteps, which are now right outside your bedroom door. 
That’s when you realize: you didn’t lock the bedroom door. That’s it. You’re going to die. 
You swiftly grab your phone from your nightstand and turn it on silent mode, before retreating back underneath the sheets. You can easily call the police if they actually come in, but what if it’s too late? 
You don’t bother poking your head out. Instead you cling onto the comforter and try to quiet down your breathing. Is it a burglar? A thief? Or worse? Could it be…? 
Meanwhile, Coconut moves himself off the bed and towards the corner, already losing interest in the odd noises. You should’ve gotten the dog. 
Your door opens and the footsteps get closer, eventually stopping at the edge of your bed. Your heart drops. What’s this person going to do? 
You grunt from the sudden weight being thrown on top of you. Because for some reason, this fool—this complete stranger—has laid himself on top of you. Well, technically, next to you, but his body is spread out—an arm and a leg lays on top of you. 
The familiar smell of alcohol hits your nose. That’s definitely vodka. 
This idiot is drunk. 
Your curiosity gets the best of you and you end up tugging the comforter down, taking a peek at the intruder. You’re met with the view of Bobby. His bangs dangle down, brushing softly against your forehead. Your eyebrows furrow: this can’t be right. 
He’s slightly sweaty. His skin looks like he’s shimmering. His eyelashes have an almost perfect curl to them. His cheeks are flushed and his mouth is slightly opened, his natural pink lips are parted to let out his breath. Your heart pounds in your chest, flustered from the close proximity. 
You nudge him once.
He doesn’t wake up. 
You push him, nearly shoving him off your bed. He finally awakes, cracking an eye at you, only to shut it again with embarrassment written on his face. 
“Oh, shit,” he says. He laughs at himself. “I’m in the wrong apartment, aren’t I?” 
Your heart stops, feeling the tingle from your arm and the little chimes in your head. Your head spins and you rack your brain, trying to find the words to respond to him. Ironically enough, you can only think of the one phrase you should have been avoiding. “You need to get the fuck off of me.” 
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delta8hemp08-blog · 3 years
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#1yrago Seasteading meets the shock doctrine in Puerto Rico, where ethnic cleansing precedes Going Galt
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Naomi Klein's l(ooooo)ongread in The Intercept about the state of play in Puerto Rico is the comprehensive summary of the post-Maria fuckery and hope that has gripped America's colonial laboratory, the place where taxation without representation, austerity, chemical weapons, new drugs, and new agribusiness techniques get trialed before the rest of America are subjected to them.
Puerto Rico has experienced centuries of fuckery, including a brutal anti-independence regime that murdered and jailed American citizens for waving a flag, peacefully protesting, and pure speech acts in which factual recitals of the state of Puerto Rico became crimes.
The fuckery never stopped. After being colonized for medical experiments, chemical weapons experiments, and agribusiness experiments, Puerto Rico was colonized for financial experiments. First the island offered short-term tax incentives for businesses to locate there (the dubious benefits of this were wiped off the ledger and converted to deficits when all the businesses left the island after their tax holiday ended); then the island floated tax-free bonds that rang up massive debt; then came even shittier bonds with predatory interest rates that ballooned to 785%-1000% after their teaser rates expire. The Puerto Rican government was stripped of its power to govern in favor of an appointed board of finance industry execs whose job was to ensure that those bonds got serviced, at any expense -- including the shuttering of critical state institutions and the sale of state assets (often at sweetheart rates to their friends).
Puerto Ricans had just about had enough in 2017, and waves of protests and uprisings shook the island, stemming the tide and showing a solidarity that put the whole neoliberal project in jeopardy. Then Hurricane Maria hit.
You may remember what a piece of fuckery that was, but let me refresh you: there was the two-person company that employed a Trump cabinet member's son, who were awarded a $300,000,000 contract to rebuild the island's shattered power grid; the anonymous mercenaries who flooded the city streets; the not-even-trying spin-doctoring by Trump officials; Trump's war against local officials who stood up to him; the official indifference and incompetence, culminating in the paper towel incident, which is by no means the cruelest fuckery, but possibly the most emblematic.
(Naturally, elected Republicans rejected the Warren-Sanders plan to provide $146B in aid to Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands.)
In the wake of Maria, in the face of seemingly deliberate governmental indifference, community organizers, anarchists and socialists stepped in to fill the void, laying the ground for a new Puerto Rican resistance that could form out of the ruins of Maria.
But the new face of Puerto Rico is ferociously contested. A group of cryptocurrency speculators have hatched a plan to create "Puertopia," in which a radically depopulated island becomes a kind of on-shore off-shore tax-haven. Puerto Rico already offers a raft of tax-gifts to fly-in bankers; if you overwinter in Puerto Rico, you can avail yourself of a 0% capital gains and 0% interest and dividends tax-rates (this tax deal is not available to year-round, ordinary Puerto Rican residents). Move your businesses's registration to Puerto Rico and you'll enjoy a 4% corporate tax rate. All without leaving the USA or relinquishing your US passport!
The Puertopians and the neoliberal management of Puerto Rico have convergent interests, and those interests likewise converge with trumpism: since Maria, the island has experienced radical depopulation, driven by the incompetence of the relief effort; the government projects (plans) a 20% drop in population overall. There are official plans, some already underway, to sell off state assets at fire-sale prices, and to shutter public schools, end independent consumption-crop farming in favor of corporate cash-crop farms tended by low-wage workers who have no rights to speak of.
Against this are the green shoots of a new Puerto Rican resistance, reborn after Maria. The fact that decentralized, renewable energy; sustainable consumption-crop farming; and publicly run schools all weathered the storm more-or-less intact is an existence-proof of a better way for Puerto Rico, one grounded in fiscal sovereignty, educational sovereignty, food sovereignty, and the refactoring of Puerto Rican infrastructure to benefit Puerto Ricans and resilience.
Meanwhile, the Puertopians and the island's technocratic appointed managers plan to supercharge the factors that created a disaster on Puerto Rico: more filthy, groaning fossil fuels that poison the people and the land under normal operating conditions, and then do it a thousand times more when they're inundated by severe weather; more austerity; an end to public education in favor of Devos-compliant charter-schools; more centralization of the ports where fuel comes in and cash crops go out -- more profitable fragility that assumes that big business can always get bailed out by the state, while paying virtually no tax to support that state.
Klein's story shows how the "sovereignty" sought by the Puertopians -- the power to take away someone else's island through corrupt privatization deals and then run the place without any duty to the people you expropriated -- contrasts with the meaningful sovereignty of Puerto Rican resistance. When Devos tries to close their public schools and replace them with charter schools, the teachers and parents occupy their schools and refuse to allow them to be closed. Devos wants "school choice," but only if that choice is to funnel tax-dollars to for-profit charter schools that teach Dominionist gospel.
Klein paints a picture of a wildly overmatched resistance that is fighting "fast capital," "unencumbered by democratic norms" where "the governor and the fiscal control board can whip up their plan to radically downsize and auction off the territory in a matter of weeks." Meanwhile, the resistance is struggling with the administrative incompetence after Maria, struggling to feed themselves, to stave off critical illness, to survive.
The Puertopia vision is to transform the island into "a fly-in bedroom community for tax-dodging plutocrats," who believe that taxation is theft and pay lip service to "freedom" -- while enthusiastically backing the governor's plan to "penalize communities that set up their own renewable micro-grids."
But the resistance has an advantage: its history. They're not starting from scratch: they've been at it for a century, and they reached a zenith last year, just before Maria. The hurricane smashed the island, but the reconstruction process has brought people together in hardened, tight-knit brigades who are fiercely determined to free their homeland from colonialist exploitation. It's not a fair fight, but they stand a chance -- especially now, when so much of the world seems to be waking up to the manifest injustice of inequality and unchecked, late-stage capitalism.
It's a great read, and it holds out hope, which we all need -- especially the people of Puerto Rico.
https://boingboing.net/2018/03/23/from-maria-to-puertopia.html
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marshmallow-phd · 6 years
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Fighting Instinct
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Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe
Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au
Pairing: Jongdae x Reader
Summary: He went out of his way to ignore you. You saw his kindness towards everyone else, but he showed you only irritation. And you couldn’t blame him, considering your first meeting. However, little do you know that he’s hiding a dark world, one that you’re pulled into against your will….
Warning: none
Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I 15 I Final
**
You ran. It was stupid, but it’s what you did, not really seeing any other options. You ran to your bedroom, slamming the door closed and locking it before running for the window. The clasp on the window was rusted from lack of use, making you work hard to shove the damn thing open. Just before you could start climbing out of it, Eun Na’s face appeared before yours.
“Boo!”
She laughed maniacally as you scrambled back. Her two goons yanked you up by your arms, holding you in place while Eun Na stepped back inside.
“Running from witches?” she scoffed. “Not a very smart move. I mean, did you actually think you’d get away?”
“Just leave me alone!” you screamed, the force ripping at your throat. “How can any of this be worth it?”
The smirk disappeared from her face before you could blink. She stepped up so she was nearly toe to toe with you. Her voice lowered to a menacing tone, sending a shiver down your spine.
“You have no idea how worth it all of this is.”
Her eyes left you, motioning with her eyes for the ones holding you to move out. When you got back to the living room one of them let go of you, heading to Jongdae and throwing him over his shoulder. A hand covered your mouth, only a cloth separating your skins. You fought against the hold, trying not to breath in the chemical you knew the cloth was soaked in. It took longer than you’d imagined, but eventually you lost the fight and consciousness.
**
After waking up in the middle of the forest again, you were really considering the thought of never seeing another tree for the rest of you life. This time, though, you weren’t scared. You were angry. Angry that you were once again in this position and that really this was all your fault. You were the one who wanted to stay in your vulnerable apartment instead of surrounded by the safety of the pack. If you hadn’t asked to stay in the city, you wouldn’t be here in this position.
Now, you were lying down on a ritualistic slab of rock, your wrists chained above your head, making escape impossible. Looking around, you seemed mostly alone in a meadow, save for Jongdae, who was so chained down to his own concrete column he couldn’t even save himself. You pulled at your restrains that were digging into your skin, rattling the metal against the rock. The noise seemed to wake Jongdae from his unconsciousness.
“(y/n)?”
You tried to sit up, but your ankles were also locked down, keeping you from changing positions.
“I’m okay,” you reassured him, adding to yourself, “for now.”
Jongdae growled, wiggling back and forth to loosen his restraints. It was pointless. As strong as he was, there were at least five layers of brand new chains wrapped around him, keeping him firmly against the column
“Oh, goody, you’re awake.”
Eun Na, along with her with her coven, emerged from the trees. They were back in those black robes. Out of desperation, you pulled at the chains again and again. A useless effort, but one you couldn’t quite stop until Eun Na was right next to you and she put her hand on your wrists, stopping the movement gently. A strange gesture considering the circumstances.
“Get away from her!” Jongdae roared. He went ignored.
Eun Na’s eyes were nearly unreadable when she looked down at you, but what you could catch was a sadness. You prayed that there was enough of a conscience in her to change her mind at the last minute and let you go, however miniscule that hope was. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the vial that held the potion that was supposed to keep you alive.
“Did you enjoy my little gift I sent to you?” she mused. At sympathy was gone from her gaze, the evil smirk had taken over. “Considering you didn’t use this little protection spell when you had the chance, I’m assuming so.”
“You really wanted me dead that much?” you whimpered, your voice catching just for a second in your throat.
“It wasn’t about killing you,” she corrected, putting the vial back in her pocket. “It was simply about making sure you stayed unmarked. See, as soon as you were marked, you’d be useless to us, protected by the same magic that protects all werewolves from us. And thus we wouldn’t be able to use you to break that protection. That’s all I cared about. When I caught wind that the two of you might actually be coming together as mates, I couldn’t take the risk of you being marked before I could get to you again.”
Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, fighting the tears that were building up in your eyes. You were so sick of crying, so sick of being in this position. But this was the explosion you predicted to Jongdae during your argument just a few days ago. You just hadn’t expected it to come this soon.
“Just tell me why, Eun Na,” you whispered. “Why you are so hell bent on breaking the treaty and killing the pack?”
Jongdae had told you about the treaty Junmyeon’s great-great-grandfather had made with the coven head during his time. They all simply wanted peace in the town they called home and so they agreed to live without fighting, to no longer harm the other and their families. It’d lasted generations and now it was being torn apart.
Eun Na lowered down so her eyes were mere inches from yours. “My sister.”
Your jaw dropped. “Y-your sister?”
She’d never told you about having any siblings. You always assumed that she was an only child. Then again, she never divulged any information about her family. It was mind boggling as you thought back, realizing how little Eun Na talked about herself, never really giving you details about her life beyond the classroom.
“Eun Bi,” she mumbled. “My baby sister.” She straightened up, her eyes settled down, looking at nothing in particular. “She was such a bright light. Not an evil bone in her body. I was so scared when she went off to college because I wouldn’t be there to protect her. She wanted to do something on her own without me hovering over her so she took off to a distant university. I should have been there to protect her.”
Eun Na looked off to the tree line, pausing to keep herself together before continuing.
“When I discovered she was dating a werewolf, I tried to warn her that she would get hurt. But she didn’t listen. And she sounded so happy on the phone that I couldn’t keep arguing with her. And then that bastard found his mate. He dropped my sister without thinking twice about it, simply telling her sorry. She was devastated. She couldn’t think straight. She went to go plead with him and he lost his temper when she started talking about how his mate ruined them.”
Her fingers were digging into the rock, her nails scraping against it as her grip tightened on the edge. “He shifted and attacked her, clawing her face and neck down to her collar bone. She’s lucky she still has her sight, but now she’ll be scarred for the rest of her life. And even after that, she still declared that she loved him, that she wanted him. So, she tried to break the mate bond between them to get him back. She didn’t know that one of them needed to be a willing participant in the spell, so she failed. But the coven she’d joined found out about it and had her expelled from the order. She can never join another coven, never have another family to accept her. All in the name of love for a mongrel.”
A fire was now raging in Eun Na’s eyes, making you feel the heat from where you were. She grabbed your chin, her fingers squeezing your jaw with a fierceness you’d never experienced from her before.
“That is why I am doing this. That is why I am willing to do whatever it takes to eradicate those stupid dogs from the face of this earth. For my sister’s sake.”
“But it wasn’t someone from this pack, was it?” You hoped it wasn’t. None of the mated wolves had mentioned anything about an Eun Bi or accidentally attacking someone out of anger.
“No,” Eun Na answered between clenched teeth. “Eun Bi was going to school in a coastal town. But it doesn’t matter. Once I’m powerful enough to destroy this pack, I’ll continue to wipe out each wolf I come in contact with until I make it to his pack. I’ll save him and his mate for last.”
“You’re insane,” you concluded.
Eun Na pursed his lips, contemplating your comment. “No. I’m just willing to do anything for my family. Now, it’s time to say goodbye, (y/n). Because once the ritual is done and poor Jongdae here has watched you die, he’ll be the next one to go.”
“You crazy bitch!” Jongdae screamed. “Don’t you dare touch a single hair on her head!”
Eun Na barely acknowledged him over her shoulder. “Ha. I don’t think you’re exactly in a position to be making threats.”
“No, but I am.”
Junmyeon emerged from the trees along with the pack.
Eun Na pulled a knife out of her robe, pressing it against your neck.
“Take one more step and I’ll cut her throat,” she warned.
“No, you won’t,” Junmyeon countered. “You need her, you won’t just kill her outright.”
Eun Na’s determined face flickered for a moment from being caught in her bluff. She turned to her coven.
“Now!”
The one you remembered from the bonfire, Tonya, was closest to the pack and threw a powder into the air, making the boys scramble back. As soon as the powder reached the grass, a wall of fire sprung up, separating the two groups, keeping you and Jongdae on the wrong side.
Eun Na began chanting, putting all her concentration on you and spreading what you recognized as wolfsbane ash around you on the slab. You stared past her, keeping your eyes on the pack. You watched them all transform into their wolf selves, ready for battle as pieces of fabric sprayed everywhere. Bravely, they all jumped through the wall of flames, chasing after the coven members that were scrambling to keep Eun Na protected as she completed the spell.
Three of the wolves went to Jongdae, clawing at the chains and breaking them little by little. Soon, he was free and immediately ran towards you. All the wolves flanked him, attacking any human that dared to try and stop him and block his way to you.
Jongdae tackled Eun Na before she could finish, pinning her to the ground.
“It’s time to end this,” he growled, lifting his hand back behind his head as his claws grew to deadly talons. He was going to kill her. As much as you wanted to be free from her wrath, you didn’t want her death on your conscience.
“Jongdae, no!” you screamed.
He stopped before he could swing, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and Eun Na. Instead of killing her, he swung at the chains holding your wrists hostage, freeing you.
You sat up as the white wolf you recognized as Sehun ran towards the three of you, stepping on Eun Na to keep her down as Jongdae scrambled up to you.
There was only way to end all this without death being involved. At least, without Eun Na’s death.
“Jongdae,” you choked as he pulled you into his arms, tears spilling out of both your eyes and his.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, rubbing your back soothingly. “You’re safe.”
You shook head, staying in the comfort of his embrace. “No. I won’t be until as long as I remain like this.”
Stiffening, Jongdae pulled back. “What do you mean?”
“You need to mark me,” you declared, getting the solution out before you changed your mind. “Right now. That’s the only way this can end.”
He shook his head violently. “No, (y/n). You said it yourself that you didn’t want to take that risk. We don’t know if it’ll work.”
“I’m willing to take that risk now,” you urged. There wasn’t time to argue about this. The rest of the pack was still fighting the coven, trying to avoid the fire that was building up around them. The only way for them to give up, for you to live in peace with your new family, was to make yourself useless to them. Just like Eun Na said. “Please, Jongdae. I have to do this.”
“It’s not supposed to go this way,” he growled, cupping your face in his hands. “Not like this.”
“Jongdae.”
Seeing the desperate plea in your eyes, he finally nodded. “Okay.”
He went back to Eun Na, taking the potion from her as she struggled under Sehun’s weight. As soon as the vial was in your hands, you broke the seal and tipped the glass against your lips, trying not gag as the liquid trickled down your throat.
With a shaky hand, Jongdae pulled your shirt away from your shoulder, exposing the skin. He looked you in the eye one last time. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” you whispered.
His fangs grew in his mouth and, as he squeezed his eyes shut, bit down on the space where your neck and shoulder met. The feeling of his teeth sinking into your flesh and tearing it apart was a pain you’d never experienced before. You let out a scream, the only outlet you could think of to ease the pain.
“No!” Eun Na screamed.
As Jongdae pulled away, he watched you as your eyelids flickered, struggling to stay open.
“(y/n)? (y/n)!”
You felt yourself weaken until finally, you went limp.
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smallgreymoon-blog · 5 years
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Love, Life and Being Happy
Love. The type of love that movies show us. The kind of love that books describe to us. Love at first sight. Love that develops gradually over a longer period of time. Love as an ideal that originates from a poetic soul. Love as a chemical reaction produced by our body. Love that is never returned in the same way that it is given. Love that is bound by a genetic bond. Love that is bound by an invisible bond. Love that was secured by a golden band on a person’s ring finger. Love.
Love. Platonic love. Familial love. Romantic love. Sexual love. Perfect love. Eternal love. Painful love. Destructive love. Short-lived love. Unconditional love. Forbidden love. Desired love. Unattainable love. Ideal love. Real love. Fake love. Love.
Love. A child’s love. A teenager’s love. An adult’s love. A mother’s love. A father’s love. A friend’s love. A lover’s love. A husband’s love. A wife’s love. A stranger’s love. Love.
Love. Love towards a child. Love towards a friend. Love towards a parent. Love towards a lover. Love towards a significant other. Love towards a stranger. Love.
Love. Love expressed through pretty words. Love expressed through sad words. Love expressed through a smile. Love expressed through tears. Love expressed through a hug. Love expressed through a kiss. Love expressed through sex. Love expressed through hellos. Love expressed through goodbyes. Love expressed by pulling someone closer. Love expressed through letting someone go.  Love expressed through art. Love expressed through pictures. Love expressed through music. Love expressed through jokes. Love expressed through food. Love.
Love. Next-door love. Long distance love. Love.
Dear Life,
You truly are cruel. Taking and giving love without paying attention to who is in need of it or should encounter it. Giving it to people who are already surrounded by it and taking it from people who are already in need of it. Not letting pain touch the people who have never encountered it because apperently they are too soft to survive that type of cruelty; flooding people with pain who are already surrounded by it because apparently, those are the ones that need to be broken to achieve their full potential. Some people call it God, fate, meant to be, the path to success.
Well, I call bullshit. That’s just you being cruel; having fun because you are in the position to do so. No thought put into it. Abuse that power because you were put in charge for it; abuse it like a cruel and honorless ruler would do it. Sprinkle that metaphor of a wand a bit to the left and a bit to the right because you happen to be holding it.
Yet, what boggles my mind, life, is that we still love you. In a messed up, mental, crazy way we love you even though you hurt us. No. Let me correct myself. I love you even though you hurt me. In a messed up, mental, crazy way I love you even though I shouldn’t. I love you even though you don’t deserve it. I want to live you, I want to experience you, I want to feel every single second of you. And my favorite moments of experiencing you is when I’m walking down the street or sitting in a coffee shop to do my homework, and I get to feel a stranger’s love that they offer me through a smile or a few kind words. The purest, most beautiful type of love one can ever feel.
I am a nameless seventeen-year-old girl, and the immense pain that is lodged in my chest is unimaginable. And yet, I am happy. I am so happy that I want to cry and tell the entire world. I’m ok with being in pain and not having a perfect happy ending like the books and movies present them to us, and I am so immensely happy that I didn’t take away my chance of life when I was able to do so. I don’t understand why and I’m pretty sure that this is a really, really messed up state of being, of existence. And yet, I’m sitting in this coffee shop, supposed to be doing homework, supposed to be studying for tomorrow’s exam, but nevertheless writing whatever this is. I am so flawed that I can’t even put it into words and the number of times that I have shed tears since January 1st, 2019 is uncountable. Yet, for some unfathomable, mental, messed up reason I am so happy. So thankful that I am alive. I know that I definitely don’t want anyone to go through the pain that I have been and am going through, and yet I am happy; happy to be alive; happy to have the possibility to feel, see, experience. I am happy to be living, even though it is a fucking miserable life.
You may be asking “Why?” and you know what: I am asking myself the same question. My answer is that I have no damn clue why. No sane human being should be happy with this type and amount of pain surrounding them. Yet, I am so immensely happy. Maybe I’m not sane. Perhaps I’m really messed up and if it so, then I am happy to be messed up because I get to feel everything that I feel so deeply that it rocks my soul every time.
Why am I doing this? I don’t know that either. It is very possible that tonight I will be crying in my bed laughing about what I had written a few hours earlier. And if not tonight, then tomorrow. And if not tomorrow, then next week. So, why am I doing this? For myself. But also, to maybe get a chance to share that stranger’s love that is the purest, most beautiful form of love that one will ever get to feel.
Love,
A (Possibly Mental) Girl Trying to Share a Stranger’s Love to the Rest of the World While She Still Can
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bearogenes · 5 years
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Dear Bearogenes: I often hate myself because of my sexuality.
Hey um I’m really uncomfortable with my sexuality. To the point that I go through extended periods of hating myself. Can you help me 
Bear in mind, this is like asking a random person to paint the Mona Lisa using nothing but their breath and a sheet of steel. You've given me two pieces of information that are so generic I could write almost anything and it would sound like it was getting to the point, but I would be swinging blind and you’d know I’d missed completely but I wouldn't. That, however, has never stopped me from trying which is all I can do here without more information.
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In the broadest of terms ‘being comfortable’ with one’s self is an intensely complex challenge. It’s up there as one of the ‘big ones’ like finding purpose, meaning, happiness or uncovering ‘destiny’. Even discovering this about yourself can be intensely emotional. I've seen boys breakdown because they weren't ‘normal’, having just discovered a new kink or even an aspect of their sexuality they hadn't explored yet, or that they were improperly gendered.
The revelation of ‘challenges’, which those things represent, can cause frustration, depression, self-depreciation, and much more as all non-’straight’, non-cis folk know well as all of us have experienced it first hand in varying degrees.
For the record: I hate labels with such a passion and fire that I do everything I can to dismantle them as thoroughly as I can because if there was a ‘demon’ in with the skeletons in the closet, it’s labels about who we ARE, what we ARE, and our value when what matters is that we ARE. To hell with those other notions, but that’s a much longer rant for another time.
Your ‘comfort’ is most likely, again speaking in the broadest/statistically common factor, the result of that kind of ‘challenge’. It represents you not being ‘average’ or ‘normal’ (insert angry bear sound at those words) and that means you have to either sacrifice being in the ‘normal crowd’ (insert laughter at the idea of normal crowd) or you have to do horrible things to yourself that have only one end: the destruction of any stable psychological/emotional/spiritual sense of self.
Upon discovering your uniqueness, the very first choice you are given is to be alone (which is untenable because of the nature of things) or to ‘end’ that self that is different. Is it any wonder we have such universal challenges like depression, anxiety, and the rest? We’re virtually never welcomed ‘into the world’ before the ‘world’ tells us we’re wrong. The truth is that none of that is real or true or both. This may sound a little counter-intuitive but I think that’s where we need to go here to find your answer: away from ‘cognitive intuition’ and into something deeper.
There is no such thing as those things that are pushing you to be different from who you are; They are the lie you've been told and accepted. There is no ‘normal’ person and if it does exist, it’s so rare that in 7 billion, you might find it every few generations. This person who is just like everyone else.. the idea frightens me really. A ‘blank’ who fits in everywhere wouldn't be a ‘person’ because what makes us so is that we don’t fit in everywhere.
We aren't meant to. That’s not how the universe works on any level so it’s rather deluded to assume that on our ‘level’ it does. That’s like saying you wouldn't get drawn into a black hole because you’re made of ‘special atoms’ because you’re homo-’sapiens’. There’s no amount of ‘fabulous’ that can change the way things work in the universe. 
As much as we’d like to think so, you just can’t ‘out Queen’ a black hole.
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The universe has some pretty simple rules: Everything has a place, everything fits and it all works when it is where it belongs. Please note that ‘getting it’ or ‘understanding’ really aren't in those basic principles because what we do as humans (drawing lines, making connections between concepts and assigning value to unrelated things) has little to do with the universe itself and more to do with what we do in that structure.
Everything “Fits” :
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There is nothing that isn't created using the same template, a base code of atoms and chemicals and structures. It manifests in an incredible diversity worthy of the duality of it’s source because it is both simple and complex in the same breath. You are you because billions of atoms obey the rule of “Fit” and “purpose” set out by that ‘template’ that created the code that became the chains of color pallets known as DNA. Every single human has the same base code because we all ‘fit’ in that same sense as an extension of our ‘atoms’ fitting in the cosmos.
This means that from long before you could possibly have existed, you were ‘right with the cosmos’ and belonged here but you aren't always aware of it or able to sense those things because you aren't yet ‘where’ you (as grand component) fit yet. This happens at every level as well. Things come together, form shapes, change and separate making new bonds and forming new things but ultimately nothing remains ‘rogue’ for long at all. It just FEELS like you don’t fit because you aren’t ‘fitting’ at the moment. You’re not wrong but you aren’t right about the grander scale on which you do, and will again, fit perfectly. By way of this metaphor for life, nothing is a ‘universal’ fit because we all have unique bonds to make as part of creating a structure.
Everything has a “Place”.
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You are here. Virtually every map in a building has this marker so you know where you start your journey. There’s no indicator, on said map, of where you’re going or a hint or guide of how to get to that place you have an idea of but no clue where it resides. You’ve got an idea that the world is a big place and that somewhere in all of it, there’s somewhere you fit and are happy, but no clue how to get there.
This is where ‘feeling different’ becomes a threat to happiness. A triangle isn’t going to fit in a round hole of the same size without being bent, turned or cut down to fit but it will NEVER be a circle no matter how hard it’s ‘shaped’, it will always be what could have been a triangle. That’s what we do to ourselves when we try to conform every part of our uniqueness to the ‘hole’ given to us at the start. That’s the thing though, it’s just the ‘start’ and virtually never does a piece begin and end in the same spot. “You are here” is only the first rung on the ladder you’ll climb and no indicator of where you’ll go or what you’ll do on your journey. Those are as unique as you are.
So why does the map exist at all then?  It’s the result of people who have been before you but it’s not meant to say ‘this is the only way’ but it is the only ‘example’ you could be given: the result of someone’s journey who went before you. They weren’t ‘constructed’ like you are, weren’t meant to fit the way you will because they weren’t YOU.
Following the atomic metaphor a little further, atoms are passed along because of environmental stresses. Sometimes we come together to form greater structures and other times the bonds aren’t stable (read: aren’t the right fit) and so we break apart and then move along following that ‘ladder’ or ‘chain’ of elements as we move along searching for that ‘fit’.
It’s scary but the only way to truly find that ‘place’ is to be you. In the absence of a genuine sense of self, you can never find a sense of belonging because it won’t be YOU that belongs, just that version of you that was created (by you and outside pressures) for the sole purpose of fitting in. It denies the idea that you could fit in better somewhere else and that to one degree or another you must do so because that’s why you are here after all. Denying that creates false self of place that leaves us feeling uneasy, nauseous because it’s unstable, and we always turn to ourselves as source of that problematic perception. It is, again, a fallacy. The situation/place isn’t wrong and neither are we, but the fit is because you aren’t yet where you need to be.
Everything has purpose.
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This one gets ‘sticky’ and is very messy because it can challenge everything else because it’s the big ‘debate’ in philosophy, religion and psychology. Do we have purpose? Does that purpose entail a ‘power’ creating that purpose? The questions go on and on but are a byproduct of assumptions about the universe that are entirely our own creation. They don’t ultimately have any impact on the fact that everything has purpose and that the purpose has no ‘value’ in and of itself.
What I mean by the last is that since we assign value, one of our many human traits, we create this sense of measure that one thing is better than another. We discriminate. It’s our nature.We choose left or right based on one of those being better because of experience/learning but as we are constantly evolving, those choices aren’t always the ‘right’ ones. We push concepts onto the fabric of the universe and somehow expect it to ‘agree’ with us but that’s not how it works.
We’re all the same basic things, a few different kinds of atoms being shoved around until we form shapes by Forces like gravity and such. So too with the nature of human existence. It has no ‘value’ in and of itself, but we create those things when we ascribe meaning and purpose to it which is why we so desperately search for something outside ourselves to give it to us: because we know we can make mistakes and being mistaken about our purpose feels like a terrible fate we want to avoid.
Let me tell you a little about me as a way of illustrating this point. I have chosen to move, to follow the ‘pattern’ and to ‘drift’ a little now and again. I go where I am ‘needed’ rather than where I feel like I ‘should’ go because I know that should is an expectation and not a reality. The reality is that where I am now is a byproduct of being tugged at by a situation, a need in a specific area, or just a sense that ‘this’ is the new ‘place’ for a time. I’ve migrated my whole life and what I’ve learned is that I belong everywhere. I’m far from ‘normal’ but what I do and who i am IS needed virtually everywhere I have landed.
I build connections, create community, strengthen bonds and heal rifts. I weave things and mostly spend my days ‘healing’ the fabric around me. It’s what I do here on tumblr in spite of my original intention of just being a dirty old man since that wasn’t a side of me I got to really express in my day to day because it didn’t ‘fit’ with that situation. Instead my natural tendencies came to the surface as reflex because they were needed by people like you who felt alone, lost or just frightened.
When I was younger I tried to take my own life because I didn’t feel ‘connected’ didn’t have a ‘group’ I felt I ‘belonged to’ because my sexuality made me feel ‘different’ and that in discovering it I had become disconnected. The terrible truth was that I didn’t ‘belong’ anywhere.
In.
Particular... 
Where I was at the time, the place and social groups, were made of disparate ‘isolated’ elements that came together around me. I brought those like me together, the ‘isolated’ lost and ‘cast out’, and formed communities. Eventually I found myself drifting away from that and to a new place where there was ‘nothing’. Only to repeat the process there.
How do you find “Purpose” when you have no “place”? You come to understand the illusion of those things while accepting that it was your understanding of them previously that created the illusions. The truth is, I belong wherever I am because I am needed there. Time will come, as it always does, that I will ‘move’ again. While I may yearn for the ‘quiet life’ of house, fence, kids and dogs, my ‘purpose’ is to ‘create spaces’ as I do here and to share what I have learned of being ‘place-less but with purpose’ because it allows me to form ‘greater’ structures around me than you might if you had a perfect fit in a particular place. My place, it seems, is the whole confusing, complex, crazy, thing. Anywhere. Everywhere. Right here and now because you reached out to me.
It is why I so desperately try to engender a simple understanding in others: that you are critical in your natural state. I don’t mean ‘younger you’ I mean the real you, the deeper true you, because that is what bears purpose and can help find or create place. I may have tried to be an artist, danced my way through years of my life, and been a warrior who defends those at risk around him, but those were never the real me. The real me.. you get to glimpse him here. None of this would exist if I had continued to fight the fact that I was endowed with my unique tool set and that with that came a ‘purpose’ that didn’t ‘fit’ everywhere.
You’re struggling with ‘fitting in’ and understanding why you are the way you are, but the struggle isn’t really with those ‘facts’ about yourself: it’s with the way they ‘fit’ with society and your environment. While it can be a survival strategy to ‘conceal’ those parts of yourself you must explore them safely. I don’t mean go out and do everything your sexuality entails, I mean explore: read, discover that you’re not the only person out there with your sexuality and that in such a discovery find community and get to know what it’s like when people with a shared trait create such a space together.
Remember to breathe. Give yourself a little time. Discover the borders of the pieces of your ‘self’ that don’t ‘fit’ where you are and the discomfort they create and then set yourself on the journey of finding that ‘place’ and ‘fit. It could be as simple as fitting with just one other piece with complimentary borders.
While the map may read: YOU ARE HERE, it’s only the beginning.
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I know there’s much more specific you want to ask me. This was, you could say, a primer for what comes next. Ask me what you will and I’ll answer as best I can, but remember I’m the kind of person that will write a book in an answer because I feel you are worthy of it and because what YOU are enduring is a battle other people face daily and if I can ‘double down’ on what my work can do, I will do so.
Tell me what is truly bothering you about your sexuality and we’ll go from there but remember this lesson as a ‘square one’ “you are here” moment. The next steps we’ll take together and see what road opens for you that you might not have seen before.
Until then, you have  my best wishes,
Bearogenes
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