#guy who is so normal about character you have to peel like an onion to analyze their 15 different lies and masks on

[jahiera]

hello! i can't remember if you answered this in your wonderful astarion romance meta [THAT I CANNOT FIND AGAIN FOR SOME REASON...], but when he propositions us for a second time -- with the series of pick-up lines that we can cheekily call him out on -- do you think he's still in the 'i'm just trying to keep you on my side' stage, or is there maybe some interest in us beyond that?

Hello!! Ahh thank you, you might mean this one? I have another one where I broke down a separate scene so if it’s that one, I can dig for it! But!!!!

I’m currently phone-bound so I can’t grab my usual quotes screencaps BUT I DO have thoughts on that scene, so let me ramble—

for the scene you’re referencing in particular, I really do think there’s a degree of projection from the player (ie what you think this scene means for astarion and your tav is up to you) and personal interpretation for the pacing in here—so if someone else sees it differently or sees it paced differently for their tav, I can definitely get that. however, for me, this scene sort of represents this very interesting shift in the relationship, but not because astarion is developing interest, but because of how he’s acting around tav now that he knows he has tav’s interest secured.

in short: I do think this scene happens still mostly in “I’m manipulating you to keep myself safe,” territory BUT. What’s interesting is that astarion isn’t making any attempts to disguise that anymore. prior to this scene, his two potential propositions (both the one he initiates pre-goblin camp and the one that happens during the goblin party), while not necessarily “natural,” and most certainly not rooted in the first bloomings of a crush, or whatever, there’s a conscious effort to disguise his routine and, in essence, genuine seduction through appealing to Tav, trying to incite desire, etc. — he’s lying and when you know he’s lying it’s obvious, but there’s wiggle room for Tav to genuinely think, hey, this guy is interested in me. but the scene you’re referencing—“here’s my little treat with their cheeks all flushed…” “three little words. everyone’s favorite. I love you. (that would be a lie.) but a very sweet lie,” or whatever he says at the end there—descends very quickly into teasing (almost taunting) that is VERY heavy handed and very gleeful in how he almost …. dangles the falsehood of it in front of you.

there’s multiple ways you can interpret that. is he getting more egregious in his flirting because he feels like he doesn’t have to try as hard, but still TRIES? is he revealing the truth behind the facade because he’s starting, on some level, to feel comfortable enough to reveal THAT if nothing else? I’m less convinced by the second, more convinced by the first, but myyyy personal interpretation of that scene is one that kind of….. is within the romance but removed from it in terms of. I don’t think it’s about tav here, really. I think it’s about astarion.

to elaborate, I think that there’s a kind of thrill in this moment — astarion has been an object for sex and desire for 200 years, and he’s still doing that, still playing that role, but now he’s doing it without the overarching crushing influence of cazador behind him; his safety within the group is relatively secured now; there is less..... external (or perceived external) pressure to keep up the act, but he still does it. which I think results in him almost……. outright telling you that it’s false? like a kind of release, to say that the I love you is a lie, and you know that, and I know that, and I don’t have to FULLY pretend so, in his own way, he doesn't--he tugs and pulls at emotion, and kind of .... invites Tav into the lie, in a sense (thank god there's no option to say "I love you too," here, I worry that fans would take it and mean it sincerely. like. AUCK). maybe there's almost a vindictive thrill to getting to basically display his exaggeration. or maybe he's pushing at the boundaries of what tav & he have here, seeing how far he's sunk in. playing the role still, but at the end, you know it's at least partially an act. either way, poking and prodding like that, to me, isn't motivated by blooming squishy feelings. rather, it's something less sweet, less romance-y to boot, but more interesting for the character as a whole. or maybe that's just my own bias--I tend to find the Soft Squishy Romance to be the least interesting aspect OF the romantic dynamic. also, to be clear, I'm not trying to soften it up with elaboration here. taking away the context of astarion's history and past, what he's doing here is really just mean. it's a kind of cruel thing to so starkly display that you dont really give a fuck about the feelings of the person in front of you--enough to throw flirting and emotional barbs of "I love you," at them just for the laugh of it. it's a bitch move, but it's an interesting one, and I rarely see the conjunction of His Meanness discussed with how it manifests due to his history-- it makes complete sense and it's FASCINATING.

there is ONE thing I'll say, and that in the dialogue branch where you say, "Are you having fun?" or something along those lines, he says, "I am! It's hard not to, with you." and that, I do believe to be sincere, in its own way. I do think Astarion is having fun with Tav out on the road, being with them, being with the group, enjoying the show so to speak, and exploring his newfound freedom--all of which is wrapped up in proximity to Tav. there's arguments to be made that there's pacing issues here, but I actually interpreted the fact that we don't really have another romance-specific scene before the "you're wonderful"/drow confession to be intentional. to me, the trust bond with astarion isn't developed in moments where he's putting up the act or where you're expressing interest or attraction to him (he already knows, he's already removed from that, there's no trust to grow in these moments because sex/attraction is the last thing associated with trust to him), but rather, trust is reinforced over time on the road, through shows of support out and about during crucial, but NON-ROMANTIC moments (such as killing yurgir for him--a nonromantic act, but one that solidifies that he can trust you.)

all in all, after such longwindedness... I guess my answer is that. while I dont think he LOVES tav at all, and maybe he isn't even romantically there yet with them, I do think he likes Tav by this point, and enjoys their company and their presence. what that means to YOU is up to you! as I said, I think it's a scene where the pacing and emotional weight is partially up for interpretation. you can just as easily imagine that he's got unaddressed growing feelings there as you can not--especially since if you turn him down here, what he'll say is "I've gotten on my back more times than I can count [...] most of them I don't even remember. but you, I'll remember." <- possibly implying that there was the start of a potential something here, ultimately ended, which he isn't really sad about because it removes the overall pressure of putting up a show, but at the same time implies a fondness for tav the person; again, not necessarily romantically oriented, but positive emotion regardless.

#bg3 meta #sorry I dont have screencap quotes on hand for this! I just got home from work #BUT YEAH. this is one of my favorite scenes because of what you can kind of infer from /astarion's character/ for this #it is. probably my least favorite scene in terms of viewing it in any sort of Actual romantic lens #I know there was a lot of gushing over the My Little Treat line but even when I played it without knowing the ending or where #the romance was going. I was like. oh lawd. you are EGREGIOUSLY LYING. #in reality the romance route to me is sooooooo fascinating but I rarely get Big Mushy Feelings about it...... not till late act 3 anyways #everything prior to that I sort of detach from a romance lens at all and it's Just for the buildup to something real. ANYWAYS. #sorry that's not at all relevant to your question! um. #guy who is so normal about character you have to peel like an onion to analyze their 15 different lies and masks on #thank you for the opportunity to RAMBLE INCESSANTLY once again #answered

[ellesliterarycorner]

Writing Morally Grey Characters

Spoiler Alert for ASOIAF, Six of Crows, and A Court of Thorns and Roses: 

Well written morally grey characters are some of my favorite characters to read and write. Seeing them walk that fine line between good and evil, the smallest hint of a tragic backstory, and seeing the loyal friends and lovers who keep them from going full blown dark side. They’re also some of the hardest characters to write because of that fine line. Too far to the good side and they aren’t actually a morally grey character. Too far to the evil side and you get a problematic character dressed up as the hero *cough* Rhysand *cough*. But, today we are making sure that we don’t do that, so here are some tips that I like to keep in mind when I write morally grey characters. 

One Bad Thing = Three Good Things

This is one rule of thumb that I like to keep in mind. You don’t actually have to make them do three good things for one bad thing, but generally for every bad thing your character does, they need to do a better thing. Here comes the spoiler for A Song of Ice and Fire: in A Game of Thrones, Jaime Lannister throws a kid out of a window. Now, we all know that that is a very bad thing, but pretty much for the rest of the books in the series, we slowly start to understand Jaime, and he does good, admirable things to make up for all of the bad that he’s committed. We obviously don’t forgive him for yeeting a child out of a window, we slowly start to like him and understand a little of what brought him to that point. Thuy, moving him from terrible bad guy to a morally grey character we can root for. It’s almost like the character needs to balance out their karma, but karma is the reader’s opinion of them. 

Are You Actually Morally Grey or Just a Shady Person?

There is a big big difference between a character who is actually morally grey and a character who the author says is morally grey. People may think it’s not a big difference, but imho, it is. My favorite examples are the differences between Kaz Brekker and Rhysand. Some people think these two are comparable, but they just aren’t. Kaz is actually morally grey. He has his little murderous tendencies and occasionally says or does things that might make him unlikeable, but then we see him rescue Inej without any real payoff or really any scene the two of them share, and we see the good inside him. People love Kaz because even though he can be ruthless, he never goes too far, and we constantly see the soft, likable side of them. Then we come to Rhysand... Before SJM pulled a 180-switcheroo on Rhysand, for most of the first ACOTAR book, he was a pretty good morally grey character. I couldn’t tell where his head was at, he was scary, and while everyone else was playing checkers, Rhysand was most certainly playing chess. Then, we come to the faerie wine roofieing scene where Rhysand commits an unforgivable, s*xual assault. All of that goes right out the window. Rhysand says he did all of that to protect Feyre, but common sense tells us that is not the case. The author tells us Rhysand is morally grey, but his actions and the textual evidence in the book do nothing to support that fact. Which is why Kaz is actually morally grey, and Rhysand is just a shady person.

Peel the Onion

Think of your morally grey character as a little onion. When you cook an onion, you need to peel it back and reveal all of the layers underneath. The character development for morally grey characters (and all characters really) is the same. Characters bend when you put them under pressure and show a side that people don’t normally see. Show your reader what happens to your character when they are: 

Angry 

Vulnerable

Forced to make a hard decision 

Forced to partner with the bad guys 

Protecting someone they love 

Proven wrong about something 

Fail at a task or lose a battle/competition/etc. 

In which of these situations does your character’s morally grey side take over their actions, and in which do they reveal their softer side?

They Need a Friend

Or a love interest, or a dog, or even a parent really, whatever floats your boat, the storyline, and the personality of the character. The point is all characters especially your morally grey characters need someone they trust and love. Like I said earlier, a huge part of Kaz’s story is him showing hsi softer side with Inej and becoming a better person due to his love of her. She brings out his softer side which helps make him a more likable character. This person could also be someone they meet for the first time and grow to trust or love over the course of the story. Your morally grey character should interact with this person in a different way then they do with the other characters in the story. They should be the first hint that the character can be redeemed and show the character acting in a way beyond their usual morally grey actions. 

Looking in the Opposite Mirror

One of my most popular personal opinions is that all main characters need characters who have opposite trails from them. This isn’t a new idea, and these characters are called Foils. A lot of time they’re put in the story to show what the main character could have been given different circumstances or cast doubt on a character who believes they should be more. Especially for morally grey characters, it’s great to have a character who acts as a foil and contrasts specifically with a certain morally grey trait or aspect your character has. This foil can highlight the negative attributes of the morally grey’s characters particular trait or show the positive light that the morally grey character needs to work to. This Foil could be the villain of the story, but they don’t have to be because their presence in and of itself provides conflict for your character wether that be internal or external. 

To Each Their Own 

I mentioned this when I discussed problematic characters, but my main gripe with both problematic and morally grey characters (because no they are not always the same thing. see Kaz and Rhysand example) is that a lot of authors, especially in YA, don’t trust the reader to form their own opinion about the characters, so they feel the need to retcon or sugarcoat their actions. Not everyone will like your morally grey character, or any of your characters for that matter. The best part, imo, of morally grey characters is debating and discussing the nuances of their personalities and wether or not they really are morally grey. Don’t just tell your readers that a character is morally grey. Show them that character walking the line between good and evil, making the hard choices or even the wrong choices. Let the reader form their own opinion because if you do everything else right and make a complex and intriguing character, readers will be interested in them!

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #writersofinstagram #writers of ig #writer #writing tip #writing tips #writing advice #morally grey characters #character development #writing reference #writing resource #writing resources

[carpememes]

An assortment of Try Guys Starters

“Always bet on gay.”

“Do you think that you’re better than us because you’re better at showing up on time?”

“Gonna peel back the layers of that beautiful onion!”

“Who do you suppose is the best at sex?”

“Do you think you’re the hottest?”

“But they’re always calling each other ‘baby’ and talking about their ‘tummies’!”

“It’s crazy to say that in public!”

“Incredibly large lie.”

“I prefer dogs over babies”

“I don’t have any photos of me as a child...”

“WHOOOO. LET’S GO!”

“In conclusion: ... You get boobies in the first episode.”

“Who among us was the most difficult to travel with?”

“The answer is you, [Name]. You’re the worst.”

“A perfect date’s gotta end with a little smoochy smooch.”

“Then I didn’t know how to ask her to leave… But she needed to go.”

“I like that [Name] is spreading good in the world by being insufferably sweet.”

“What is that BANGING? My god!”

“I look adorable. We all agree.”

“I would have died without this blanket!”

“I’m what you would call… a fraud.”

“Interesting character choice...”

“The reality is actually much more humiliating.”

“Haha- I’m gonna cry myself to sleep tonight.”

“It’s gotta have SOME flavor, you’re really reacting.”

“This is ridiculous….ly sexy.”

“Don’t make up things! Don’t start with lies!”

“Can I throw it?”

“Depression is just this nice feeling that I keep around at all times.”

“All of this news is of great concern to me.”

“We don’t love you.”

“No you’re not throwing the fish cake!”

“Lesbians! Lesbian kookaburras!”

“Seems like a fun thing to throw!”

“As soon as you start wearing that, seeing your nipples becomes weird.”

“HE’S A ROBOT! HE’S NOT REAL!”

“I’ve never found myself revolting before. And I’ve vomited on myself.”

“It is now my quest in life to crush all of you.”

“I saw my wife in a cage and nothing else mattered.”

“[Name] is a gangly, giant klutz.”

“I sneezed and I coughed… I snoughed.”

“There is a lot of sexual tension here.”

“He denies it, that’s only more proof.”

“Why was the octopus laughing?… Because he had ten-tickles.”

“Look at me now, Mom…. Everything you wanted.”

“What’s worse is he’s being so KIND about being so HOT!”

“Don’t say ‘shit’ in front of the baby.”

“Wait- What are the words we cannot say in front of the baby?”

“She’s right there. There’s no shushing, she sees me.”

“Hi, beautiful wife.”

“Listen to me! PLEASE. HEED MY ADVICE!”

“Light of my life!”

“I hate working with you.”

“That is the worst food I have ever tried in my life.”

“Fuck yeah! I’m making something for a baby!”

“What child is worth 100 dollars?”

“It did work but it was super gross.”

“None of us were involved in the making of [Name]’s child.”

“Oh, you look soooo……. dumb.”

“You wanted my sober consent?”

“You stupid bitch!”

“Just be a normal person. Behave normally. This is a normal thing.”

#try guys #sentence starters

[jeonjeonggukenergy]

Anti-Hero

summary ~ in search of wine at a party that’s so not your scene, you run into jungkook, the weeb from your film class, and become determined to learn just how much he lives up to his big reputation.

pairing ~ jungkook x reader

genre ~ fluff, smut - college!au

wordcount ~ 8.5k

warnings ~ 18+ only! smut, explicit discussion of kinks/sexual preferences (yay healthy communication), dom/sub undertones during both discussion and sex (dom Jungkook, sub reader), mentions of daddy kink and degradation but both are a no, marking, biting, hair pulling, spanking, they both have a srs pain kink lmao, brief oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie

a/n ~ SO excited to finally have this chapter out for yall! it’s a huge one and i’ve been working on it for quite a while, this includes the first full smut scene for this fic and i would love to know how yall like it or any other feedback. i really enjoyed writing the character development in this chapter too! they’re so cute and whipped for each other already hhhhhh. thank you so much for loving this story so far, i’m really looking forward to writing the rest. hope you enjoy! ❣️

previous: chapter 1 | chapter 2 ~ next: chapter 4 (coming soon!) 

~ read on ao3 ~

CHAPTER 3 ~ particular, perfect

You concluded your walk home by ditching your shoes at the door, swinging your bag off your shoulders to the floor, and plopping down onto the couch immediately. Pulling all three nearby blankets over yourself, you realized you still weren't quite comfortable. You looked around for a second, puzzled, until an absentminded clutch of your boobs reminded you why. Triumphantly, you reached into a sleeve to untangle your bra and chucked it across the room with a deep stretch of relief. Okay, time to overthink again.

Jungkook? What the fuck?

Wait. A bag of chips on the kitchen counter caught your eye before you could descend any further into panic. The perfect emotional crutch. You clutched it to your chest like a safeguard against your own internal monologue, anxiously shoving handful after handful into your mouth. After about thirty minutes spent motionless on the couch with one hand shoved in the chip bag and the other distractedly scrolling through Twitter, your eyes suddenly widened and your hand froze, dropping your next bite of chips back into the bag. Fuck. You had just eaten nearly an entire family-size bag of chips before what could end up being your first fuck in over a year. Well, maybe this was part of why you hadn't gotten fucked in over a year. No, don't go there. You shoved down your own insecurity, knowing you'd just been too busy for a relationship and honestly, probably still were. But that wasn't going to stop you today.

You shook the chip dust off of your hands and got up to head to the shower, turning up your trashiest throwback playlist of getting-ready bops and resolving to at least shave your legs. Going in with no expectations was probably the best strategy here, but it never hurt to be prepared.

~

Having cleaned his apartment in record time, Jungkook was now at the gym. After triple-checking that his roommate Jin would be in rehearsal until 10pm at the earliest, he quickly scanned all the common spaces and his bedroom and realized he didn't actually have that much work to do besides politely closing the door to Jin's still-decent-but-somewhat-messier room. To be honest, Jungkook had mainly bought himself the time after class so he could shave just in case. But then he figured if he had to shower, he might as well hit the gym first. So here he was, burning off an unprecedented amount of nervous energy. Settling comfortably into the leg curl machine, he turned his music up and started on a low weight to put in reps until his thighs burned and his head felt pleasantly empty.

After completing his normal leg day rotation and dutifully stretching, Jungkook prepared to head home. He walked out of the gym feeling more energized and centered, barely even flinching when he switched his AirPods off to say bye to the nice girl at the front desk and the action accidentally blasted "Whistle" by Flo Rida from his phone speaker for the whole lobby to hear. As he walked back into his apartment, the kitchen clock let him know it was only 4:30. He had plenty of time. Jungkook hopped straight into the shower, shampooing his hair, shaving everywhere he normally did, and savoring several extra moments to relax his muscles under the hot stream of water. Finally, he toweled off to wrap up in the black t-shirt and cozy matching sweatpants he'd carefully stacked on the counter. Offhandedly singing to himself in the steamy mirror, he checked the time on his phone, deciding he might as well go ahead and text you before he got nervous again and did something stupid. Like chickening out completely.

hey its jk! im ready when u are :) my apt is 344 glencoe rd #1521 (yes its on the 15th floor sry D: )

His charming old-school smileys lit up your phone while you still had a leg perched on the bathtub's edge.

"Fuck!" you reacted. The hiss resounded, thanks to the too-good acoustics of your cramped bathroom. Your razor clattering to the floor, you paused your max-volume 2000s music to check the message, and then the time. Only 5! That wasn't dinnertime yet. Plugging his address into Google Maps, though, you realized it was a 15- to 20-minute drive from yours on the opposite end of campus. Even if you got ready at light-speed, you would get there closer to 5:30. Which was a bit more reasonable. He was being reasonable! You should be ready by now!

You leaned over to pick up your razor and cursed again as the water stream grazed the blouse you'd left on out of laziness. You'd showered this morning, so there was no need to repeat that with your shave, but now you'd have to change outfits completely. Feeling like an idiot, naked from the waist down but now all the way wet, you peeled the shirt over your head slowly to preserve your good hair day and glanced down at the dilemma you'd been facing. The patch of hair between your legs stared back at you like the final boss of stupid societal beauty standards. You'd only shaved down there once, as an anniversary present for your first boyfriend the summer before college, and it had been a fun, smooth novelty for about two hours and then itchy, red, gross-looking, and miserable for about three weeks. Also, it had kind of made you feel like a little girl, which creeped you out when you thought about why guys would prefer it. You'd been debating whether to try it again for the past fifteen minutes, because if there was ever a right time, this was probably it. But now you didn't have time, if you were going to be respectful and not keep Jungkook waiting. Well, this was the real you. He could take it or leave it.

Slathering a quick coat of lotion over your freshly shaved legs, you prepared to get dressed in a soft pastel sweatshirt and a flattering pair of workout shorts. Wait, should you wear lingerie? Was that too try-hard? You didn't really even need to wear underwear with these lined shorts, which could be a cool-girl move, you supposed. You settled on a cute white sports bra to go with the shorts, not wanting to deal with a real bra and hoping it still appealed to Jungkook's casual, athletic style. You checked yourself in the mirror briefly before grabbing your bag, confirming you looked chill enough but still felt like your best color-coordinated self. Heading out, you shoved a tin of chrysanthemum green tea in your water bottle pocket. Why not?

~

You whizzed over to Jungkook's apartment, yelling along to "Sex With Me" by Rihanna from your throwback playlist to hype you up in the car. When you knocked on his door after a nerve-wrackingly long elevator ride, Jungkook welcomed you with a "C'mon in!" amidst a mouthful of shrimp chips.

"It's not really dinnertime yet," (yeah, no kidding, you thought) "I went ahead and worked out but it's still kind of early, so I figured we could just have a snack and do the homework first."

"Sounds good," you affirmed. "I'm not really that hungry," (read: there's no way I can eat chips AGAIN right now, I'm going to bloat so badly) "but I brought tea so I can go ahead and make that if you want some too!"

"Oh cool, thanks!" Jungkook accepted. "Are you sure you're not hungry though?"

You almost gave into his sweet pout, but managed to convince him, and soon you both sat at the table with laptops open and twin cups of tea. You had a blast working together for the first time, acting out your "conversation" for the discussion board and pretending to respond spontaneously to each other's points like you hadn't already excitedly rambled back and forth through them in real life. You hit "send" five minutes apart, your idea to not seem too suspicious, and kept raving over Rear Window in between. As the sun lowered outside his living room window, you moved on to making the ramen.

After three offers to help Jungkook, all of which he denied, you simply made another steep of the tea, leaving a mug on the counter for him. Standing at the bar counter sipping yours, you enjoyed all the tiny, cute noises he made while chopping green onions and sprinkling extra garlic in the seasoning, like an anime character who came with his own sound effects. You could tell he made these recipe additions every time, because bulk quantities of the same simple ingredients lined the counters of his cozy kitchen. When he beat two eggs and dropped them into the pot, though, he couldn't seem to find a lid, and eventually settled on trapping the steam with a plate. You both waited on the egg for a silent moment, your foot bouncing under the bar while Jungkook restlessly acquired a slight wiggle. As he took a sip of his tea, a strand of hair fell over his eyes, and he yeeted it out of his face. Your inner language nerd cringed, but there really was no more apt word to describe the action.

You offhandedly said you liked his hair long, and he replied with a smile, "Maybe I'll have to keep it then."

"Do you like it too?" you wondered.

"Honestly no, it's kind of inconvenient."

"Oh, then why would you keep it?" you immediately asked back.

"Well..." he dragged out. "You like it? Maybe I should keep it if it looks better this way."

Your eyes crinkled appreciatively at his thoughtfulness, but then you backtracked. "Wait, no, it's okay! If you don't like it, don't feel like you have to keep it just because of something I said. You can do whatever you want."

"Hm, yeah." A demure smile tugged up the corner of his mouth as he lifted the plate from the ramen pot.

You watched him drag a chopstick through the floating, now-cooked egg to tear it into ribbons, then divide the noodles between two generously-sized bowls. He carefully wiped down the drips of broth from each bowl before sprinkling in his fresh toppings, then walked with you to the table.

Serving you with a pleased smile and a slight nod, he announced, "Dinner!"

"Wow," you mused playfully. "So gourmet."

"I'm really particular about my ramen," he admitted. "I have it down to a perfect routine at this point."

You took your first slurp of his particular, perfect ramen. "Well, it's really good. I'm impressed. And thanks for making me dinner, you didn't have to do all that."

"Oh, come on, it's instant ramen," he laughed. "Nothing special. And you brought the tea, so thanks. And thanks for coming over. And doing the homework with me. And...yeah." Rambling again. Why did he seem so...nervous? You were nervous. He couldn't be nervous. What reason did he have to be? But the twitch of his mouth under his wide eyes, his slightly reddened ears, his hand skittering over his neck—fuck—to ruffle his hair...every action turned another page of his open book. It felt infuriatingly unfair that genetics had assigned someone so sweet and shy and unsure of himself to that fucking body.

While you both ate and talked, you kept catching glimpses of any small flashes of skin you could find, as his long sleeves fell to expose his forearms and the wide neckline of his boxy black shirt gaped around his collarbones. What was wrong with you? Even if this did eventually turn into a dick appointment, the boy still had literally all of his clothes on. You tried to refocus on finishing your noodles, while your brain screamed at itself in shame that you could get this turned on by the sight of someone covered from neck to ankle.

Jungkook ate surprisingly slowly, probably because he kept pausing to excitedly explain his favorite things about the Cowboy Bebop episode you were about to watch together. You smiled into your tea through every out-of-context fun fact and "wait, sorry, that might have been a spoiler!"

Finally, he reached the bottom of his bowl and insisted on both taking your dishes to the sink and leaving them for him to clean later. "You sure you want to start on episode 2? Not 1?"

"Yeah, I remember well enough and your summary helped a lot too!"

"Okay, if you're positive!" he double-checked, grabbing the remote.

Gingerly lowering yourselves to the couch in sync, you avoided looking at each other as you both tried to calculate a comfortable distance between you. His hand looked ready to either hold yours or lower to your thigh, but he retracted at the last second, smoothing it over his own leg anxiously and still clearly itching to make a move. You shuffled closer to him until your thighs barely touched, and he shifted to slink an arm around you, letting your head rest on his well-muscled shoulder. After pressing “play”, he began wiggling slightly again, subconsciously grooving to the old-newspaper-style intro. Spike Spiegel appeared on the screen, his broad shoulders squared into a slouch as he listlessly watched TV. Jungkook kicked one leg over another and stretched his arms out symmetrically to echo the pose. Raising an eyebrow, he waited until you acknowledged him with a faux grimace and a hand to your ear, imitating the old man in a lab who’d just called up Spike for a new mission. You both burst into laughter and settled back into your former arrangement, Jungkook holding you imperceptibly tighter. Though you tried to stay staring straight ahead, wanting to genuinely appreciate the anime, you kept catching his doe eyes in the corner of your sight as you both giggled and gasped your way through the episode.

After avoiding eye contact too many times, you finally tilted your head for a cute sideways view of his face. He leaned toward you too, shyly closing the gap to touch his warm lips to your nose, then lower. You responded immediately, rolling your body with his so your chests met as he pulled you up into a full, deeper kiss. The longer you explored each other's mouths, the more Jungkook punctuated your movements with whimpers. He seemed hesitant to let his hands roam away from your face and neck, but his high, breathy moans made it clear that he was just as into this as you. Your hands had naturally found his taut waist, and at some point you started to bring them back up to his face too—but as your short nails grazed his chest, a particularly sensual, voice-cracking moan interrupted you. You drew back in slight surprise, blinking your eyes open to scan from his face to his body.

He followed your gaze, both slowly settling on the massive tent in his pants. You froze. Your breath grew heavier, confronted with evidence of his physical attraction to you, if nothing else. After regaining his composure, he laid a useless hand over his lap in a delicate attempt to distract you and brought his other hand up to tap your face lightly.

"Is this okay?"

His eyes glittered with equal parts hunger and concern.

"Yes!" you nodded, too quickly, too eagerly. "Yes, this is totally okay. Sorry if I'm being weird, I just...it's been a while." You cringed internally at your own words, but couldn't seem to avoid putting your foot further in your mouth. "I haven't really, like, hooked up like this before—like, I've had sex, but never really outside of a relationship. But don't worry, I get this is more your thing, and I'm totally down if you are. I just don't really know what I'm doing, and you clearly do."

Jungkook blinked at your admission, then his face twisted into something curious, inscrutable. Would he decide you weren't worth the potential for drama? His lips flattened out to a tight line, then pursed to speak, and you looked down at your lap, hoping he wasn't as embarrassed of you as you now were of yourself.

"Well, I've never had sex sober."

Your eyes flashed back up to his. A complex half-smirk offset the furrow in his brow as he exhaled in nervous relief. "So, I don't actually know what I'm doing here either."

You tried to delay your response as you processed the implications. "You mean..." You tilted your head for better eye contact, hoping to convey empathy but not pity while you silently contemplated how to proceed. "Never?"

"Yeah, I've always shown up to parties and the hookups just...happened. Nothing I didn't want, nothing bad like that, but always spontaneous. So I guess we're kind of meeting in the middle, because I've never really had to plan ahead for a situation like this and, uh, figure out what I want. Beyond, yknow, wanting to get laid in the moment, of course." Jungkook laughed off the end of his explanation, but the smile never quite hit his eyes.

"Well, okay, let's pause right there." You sighed. Something in his words didn't sit right with you. "What do you want? I want you to be sure about this, of course, but more than that, even—what do you like?"

"I..." he chuckled, sheepish, shaking his hair over his face again. "What, you want me to just tell you? Like, what I'm into?"

"Yeah," you shrugged, trying to project more confidence than you felt in hopes of encouraging him to keep opening up. "I want you to be able to communicate, I want you to be comfortable. And I want to know what you like, so I can make it as good for you as possible."

With your hands still laid flat on his chest, you felt his heart rate jump a tiny bit, and took the liberty of digging your nails in just slightly deeper. His breath caught him, and then he caught himself. "I don't know, I just want what you want."

Jungkook struggled to appear nonchalant as you rolled your eyes with an "Oh, come on," challenging his avoidance. Every instinct was telling him yes. He could hear his mind screaming at him to be intentional for once and let you take him, if not farther, then deeper than ever before. But he still hesitated, because being intentional in this case required him to be real. He had always been a fairly private person, but something about you made him feel so comfortable so fast that it counterintuitively made him more nervous. Of course Jungkook knew you weren't all innocent at this point, but the risk remained that you wouldn't really be down for everything he secretly wanted to explore. Even worse, though he didn't truly think you would, you could easily turn around and spin anything he revealed into yet another graphic rumor. Especially since you had no skin in the game yourself. He glanced down at your fingers, tensed into his chest, and narrowed his eyes.

"Why don't you tell me what you like first? And then I can tell you where we overlap," he grinned competitively. Your eyes widened as he tossed the challenge back your way. Not backing down, you flattened your hands and steeled yourself to settle the stakes.

"Fine—but only if you promise not to just go along with whatever I say. I'll let you know anything that's a hard no for me, but otherwise I want to hear at least one thing that's not on my list. I really do want what you want, that's how I am too, okay? So..." you paused to slide your fingertips over his collar and drag it down with a light scratch, now directly on his skin. You smiled with your eyes, enjoying the way he naturally responded with a hitch of his breath again. "Surely you can think of something specific."

He nodded quickly, before he could convince himself to back out. "Yeah. Promise."

"Okay," you confirmed, slightly nervous but determined to go through with this, for Jungkook's sake if anything. Seeing his body come alive with each new twist of the situation was building your curiosity, not to mention turning you on beyond belief. You could barely stand the warmth of his skin under your hands, so you drew them back to fold in your lap as you began. "So. Uh. To start. I've never really laid it all out like this either. I really like neck kisses? Like, a lot." Equally unused to this kind of directness, you wrung your hands together nervously, but sucked up the boldness to keep elaborating. "That's definitely, like, a big thing that turns me on...and then getting marked up and everything is really hot to me too. Like you can honestly go really rough with me on that, bite me even. I don't know if this is weird but even though it's annoying to cover up, I love taking off the makeup at the end of the day and seeing all the bruises on myself. Knowing I was walking around all day with that as my little secret." You swallowed shyly before continuing, but Jungkook interrupted the brief silence immediately with a hushed "Fuck."

You turned to face him fully and he didn't even move to meet your stare, eyeing the space above your sweatshirt's wide neckline like he was ready to devour you. Emboldened, your smile grew.

"So...yeah. I like being bitten, marked up. Mostly, uh," you rubbed a slightly trembling hand over your shoulder, "I'm just really into pain in general. Obviously not the bad 'I'm too dry and you're jackhammering me' kind of pain, or like, anal. Anal is a hard no. But things like biting, or hair pulling, or overstimulation. Or, like—I don't really know how to explain this, but...getting held too hard? That deep pain like when you get a massage when you're sore and it hurts but it's good, yknow?"

Jungkook looked like he was about to vibrate out of his skin, breathing shallow and rapid. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, just in time for you to whisper in conclusion:

"I love that feeling."

You suddenly looked away, reticent. A thick silence swelled between you, until he composed himself enough to punctuate it. "Okay. Yeah. Pain. So like, BDSM?"

"I mean, kind of? Sure? I don't have much experience with that and I don't really need the whole power dynamic aspect; I just like the, uh, physical pain. I wouldn't be opposed to trying further, but one thing I do know is I really don't like being degraded. And I'm not into the whole daddy kink thing either. I'm just not gonna call you that, sorry," you laughed, and fortunately he giggled too. "But I know that's not, like, necessary to the rest of BDSM, and the part about giving up control is still...interesting, for sure."

"Wait," Jungkook cocked his head, making a mental note of your last sentence before he went back to the previous one. "What do you mean, being degraded?"

You half-chuckled, half-cringed, never having needed to explain something like this, especially to a guy you hopefully were about to fuck. Cheers to better communication, you supposed.

"You know, how some people when they do dirty talk are like 'yeah, you little slut, you're such a whore.' I don't like being called any of that. Like it's fine that other people like it, there's nothing wrong with that, it's just really uncomfortable for me."

His brows knit together as you explained, and he shook his head so fast it almost looked cartoonish, like a little kid refusing vegetables. "Yeah, no. Don't worry, not really my thing either."

You sighed in relief. "That's nice. I feel like it's, like, weirdly common with guys. Maybe just the kind of thing people learn from porn."

"But you still like it rough, huh? Did you learn that...from porn?" he half-joked, trying to overcome both his shyness and his gritted-teeth arousal.

"No, I don’t like porn. Most of it’s really unethical. I learned from experience," you sassed back. "I don't have a whole lot, but enough to know what I like."

"Well. Hm." He worked his tongue over his teeth, poking one cheek out over his tensed jaw. You couldn't get enough of watching him grow fascinated by your every revelation, and you were preparing to keep pressing further when he beat you to it, posing a question. "Is there anything you haven't tried before, but really want to?"

Your face heated up instantly, tasting your own medicine. You looked back to your hands, breaking his intense eye contact to give yourself the courage to be even more uncomfortably honest. "I...I...um." Your first attempt at disclosing your fantasy came out as a squeak. Swallowing, you set your shoulders and tried again, selfishly reminding yourself Jungkook seemed so eager to please that this was 99% likely to get you exactly what you wanted. "I've always been, uh, really into the idea of, um, getting spanked. I've been, uh, too nervous to ever bring it up, before now obviously, but it's definitely one of the biggest kinks I've always wanted to try. Maybe being tied up too, I think I'd like it if I tried but I haven't thought about that as much. But, yeah...spanking, definitely."

"Fuuuuuuuuck."

A lengthened version of Jungkook's earlier under-breath exclamation made you peer up at him. Your thighs already pressed together from the tension of admitting something totally new, you found yourself needing even more friction just from the sight of Jungkook with his head thrown back on the couch, a veiny hand threaded in his hair to pull the long waves back from his forehead. The full reveal of his sharp eyebrows brought a whole new level of intensity to Jungkook's already beautifully carved features. He glanced over at you, then squeezed his eyes shut with a terse exhale. You couldn't place why, but you felt a deep attraction to the way he expertly restrained himself from acting on the lust written over his face—not under your control, but his own.

"Oh, fuck. What the fuck. How the fuck would you fucking know," he swore more in a single burst than he cumulatively had ever in your presence.

"What?" you toyed, heart rate still high but relaxed enough to enjoy agitating him. "Something ring a bell?"

Jungkook shuddered out a long breath, hand ruffling his hair as his other forearm still tried desperately to subdue his boner.

"Everything," he hissed, more willing to elaborate now that you had done the same, and especially now that he could tell you really did enjoy him being more assertive. "Shit. I...I want...I know you said not to just say this but I really do want everything you want. I can't wait to mark you up. I can't wait to hold you down and bruise your neck. I want it all, I want to make you hurt so good. And then—" Breathless. He looked almost embarrassed. "Then you had to go and somehow guess basically my biggest fucking kink, I can't fucking believe you." Both hands had come up to seize his long locks as he held himself back physically, while finally letting his guard down mentally to declare everything he intended to do to you. Letting out a short laugh, he finally met your eyes. "I wanna spank your ass bright red. Fuck. This is crazy. You're perfect."

Your core throbbed at every bold word. Leaning in close to him, you let your lips approach Jungkook's beautifully sculpted jawline as he panted, his chin tossed up to fully expose his neck. You stopped just short of his skin, in awe of how much you'd been able to work him up and still so tempted to take it to the next level. "Fuck," you echoed. "This is so hot," you murmured almost to yourself. Your eyes closing along with his, you dealt the final blow. "I love that we have so much in common. But come on, you promised. One thing that's not on my list."

Jungkook whined. You could tell he needed to touch you so badly, and no one was stopping him but himself. He had no way of knowing that if he cut the whole discussion and just took you, you wouldn't even try to resist at this point. Staring at his trembling mouth from below, you quickly averted your eyes when he opened his, pretending you hadn't been looking. He inhaled a short hiss, and then spoke.

"Okay..." He paused after just the first word, blowing air through the tiny "o" of his mouth as his eyes bugged slightly from nervousness. He couldn't resist a challenge, though, and his urge to please you overwhelmed his reluctance to peel back one more layer. "So, the pain thing. I think we, uh, feel the same about me giving and you receiving. But...I'm really into it for myself too. I don't know if you'd be comfortable with it, I know you maybe want me to be more dominant and I think I like that more too in general, but you can be as rough with me as you want back. I'd love that." Eyes still open but fluttering, Jungkook's tone grew breathier, heady as he confessed. You almost giggled at how bashfully he worded his desire to dominate you, to rough each other up, but the contrast was so hot you couldn't help sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, eager for him to continue. His voice lowered. "I love being scratched, marked, bitten...hit me, push me back, any kind of pain or any way you can hurt me, I want it." He shivered, but his voice firmed up even further. "I want it so bad."

You fought to stay motionless beside him, unable to even process how much more his honesty had turned you on. You felt helpless in your desire for him, your craving to give him everything he wanted and more. He noticed your charged stillness and shifted toward you, removing a hand from his hair to finally reach for your face. Threading his fingers through your hair instinctively like he had with his own, he tilted your head back to access your neck. Jungkook finally felt confident enough to tease you back as he skimmed his lips over your pulse point, tugging your skin between his teeth for a gentle first taste and grinning when you moaned. Seeing someone so satisfied, for reasons better than just his body or their pride, brought the most incredible rush of blood to his head. And his other head.

"And I get why you want it too," he finished with a whisper in your ear. "So trust me when I say I really, really want to give it to you."

In an instant, your hands yanked his hair down to bring his face up to yours, mouths crashing together. Feverish, restless, you kissed him, hastily attempting to straddle his thick thighs before he threw his body over yours and pinned you to the back of the couch. His hands wandered, intrepid, from your waist to a quick squeeze of your breasts before he spiraled you into his strong arms. Pressing your chest flush with his as your mouths meshed, he ground his hips into you shamelessly, enjoying the way you struggled beneath him to align your core with his rock-hard dick.

"Your room?" You rushed out the words.

Jungkook laughed a little, his tone half whine and half dare. "So we're done talking?"

"Come on," you pleaded back. He finally relented, pulling you up with him and dragging you across the living room and through his door, lips not leaving yours for a second. You backed him into the bed with your arms against his strong chest, and once he was sitting perched on the edge, you laid yourself horizontally over his thighs.

"What are you doing?" he murmured, curling a hand over the dip of your waist to hold you gently.

You angled your head back to make unsteady eye contact with him, flipping your shorts down boldly. His free hand automatically reached to slowly conform to the shape of your ass, so eager to touch you but tentative as he grazed your curves.

"Giving you exactly what you want."

"Fuck. Really? You're sure about this?" Jungkook held careful eye contact as you brought your arms back up, crossing your wrists over your head delicately. You nodded slightly and did your best to meet his gaze with confident invitation, convincing him how much you trusted and wanted him.

He smoothed his warm hand over your ass one more time, then brought it up and watched your thighs tighten at the loss of his touch. Breathing in, still a little shakily, he brought his hand down on your right cheek with a loud but mild smack. A grunt of satisfaction involuntarily left him when he saw your face flinch down into the sheets, subduing a small noise of surprise. He returned his hand to caress the light redness he'd left, checking in with you again. "Is this okay? Let me know if I should stop."

You replied with your face still tucked between your arms, muffled by the bed. "More than okay. Please don't stop."

He spanked you again, moving to your left cheek. This time you felt his dick twitch under you and couldn't help grinding down on him a little bit. "Is that as hard as you can go?" you taunted in low tones, brave enough to egg him on but not quite enough to meet his eyes again.

Jungkook's thighs and core tensed under you, and he squeezed his fingertips tighter, digging into the skin of your ass. "Not at all," he said simply.

Deep breath. A few seconds passed, and his hand came down, harshly. You cried out in shock, the timing unexpected and the sting far sharper, and he gave your other cheek a fourth hard smack before you could even process the third one. "Harder?" he tested. "Tell me."

Another spank. "Mmmf."

"You like this, huh?"

"Yes, I told you," you whimpered back, half-teasing even though you were in no position to do so. Immediately, he cut you off with a stinging hit across both cheeks, and you moaned.

"You really do," he breathed lowly. "Fuck yeah. Take it then."

He spanked you again, and again, then paused, tugging down your shorts all the way to your ankles to expose the crease right above your thighs. Rubbing your already sore bottom, Jungkook cupped the underside of its curve in his big, firm hand. Already anticipating your whine, he drew back his touch and hummed in harmony with you. He continued landing satisfyingly hard smacks, alternating to cover your ass evenly. His dick strained through his pants more and more each time you trembled under his touch. Never hitting you hard enough to do serious damage, he still clearly enjoyed his thorough reddening of your ass, and occasionally took a moment just to caress your skin as it warmed from the spanking. The pain lit your senses up from head to toe. Face burning with deep arousal, you mentally thanked yourself for going out of your comfort zone and unprecedentedly admitting your kinks before even venturing into your first time together. Amidst the thrilling sting of his hand meeting your soft curves, Jungkook eventually noticed your thighs clenching together, craving friction but not really wanting relief from the pleasurable burn.

"You're wet," he marveled, sliding two warm fingers up and down your slit.

"Mhm," you mumbled back as you tilted your hips into his hand. He gave you a light slap right on the folds between your legs, eliciting another soft moan.

"So good for me," Jungkook said softly, pulling you up into his lap by your waist. "You look so pretty like this. I wanna see all of you." He tugged your sweatshirt over your head, followed by your sports bra, thankful that it stretched over your head easily. Suddenly grinning, he wound up and shot it across the room like a rubber band, and you smacked his arm, giggling.

"What was that? You cheeseball," you teased, and he blinked, chuckling lightly back. It occurred to him that he'd never laughed, or made someone laugh, during sex before.

"It was so stretchy! Don't make fun of me," he blushed.

"You're so cute," you said, fingers sliding under his t-shirt hem.

"Cute?" His eyebrows rose in mock disbelief, and he reached around to land another hit to your still-red asscheek.

"Hot," you amended. Raising his shirt and finally getting a full glimpse of his enviable abs, you groaned. "You're extremely hot, and also really cute, and it's kind of ridiculous and I don't really know how to handle all of it at once."

His face scrunching up into a smile at the praise, he fell back onto the bed with his arms behind his head. "You are too, you know. Really cute, of course. But really hot too." As you discarded his shirt and moved on to easing his sweatpants down his hips, you held in a gasp as his erection sprung up from the waistband. He was big, thick, and painfully hard, his tip glistening warm with precum and a lone vein running prominently up his smooth shaft. Although you wouldn't be corroborating them, you had to admit to yourself that all the rumors were true. You instinctively curled a hand around it, barely covering half his length, and he winced at your slightest touch. Pulling off with a single slow stroke, you slid his sweatpants and briefs all the way to the floor and then stood, looking up from his legs to his blown-out eyes to take in the glorious sight of his fully naked body.

"You shave," you said, surprised by the clean skin under his arms and between his legs.

"Yeah," he demurred, self-conscious for some reason. He lowered his arms to fold them over his torso, somehow defining his biceps even more. "I'm on the dance team, and it's nice to feel all smooth for practice and stuff. I don't know, I just like it."

"Oh, that's cool! No worries, I like it too. And you don't mind that..." You looked down at yourself, still just standing naked in front of him. "...I don't? Like, down there at least."

"No, you do you!" he said quickly. With a shy smile, he admitted, "I actually kind of like it on you. I do this for me, anyway, not for anyone else," he playfully noted. Slowly, he was sitting up to take hold of your waist and lower you down to the bed with him. Pausing to kiss the sweet spot under your jaw, he continued. "So don't feel like you have to do anything, or not do anything, either."

Jungkook couldn't quite explain the nature of how his attraction to you had developed. Seeing how open and honest you were with him made it easy for him to be honest with you too, and just to feel comfortable being himself. He admired the way he could still tell you sometimes got nervous like him, but it didn’t stop you from getting real or going bolder. Unable to fully express it in words, he just hoped to ensure you felt as comfortable and respected around him as he did around you. He already knew that he wanted this to be more than just a one-time thing, and while he still hesitated to assume that you felt the same, he intended to leave no doubt by the end of the night.

You moaned as he nipped at the skin of your neck. It was so easy to get swept back up in Jungkook. You could barely handle the friction of his dick rutting against your wet folds from below, craving him inside you. "Ughhh. Wait, one more thing. I'm on the pill, are you clean?"

"Yes," he gasped, barely removing his mouth from your jaw. "Are you?"

"Yeah, so we don't need a condom. If that's cool with you!"

"Yeah! But, you're ready?" He seemed surprised.

"Aren't you?" you whined, beyond holding back. He felt so unbearably hard that his coherence and willpower kind of surprised you too. "Please, I want you so bad."

To your surprise, he lowered his head to the crest of your legs, dotting wet kisses down your torso. Keeping his big brown eyes on you, he teased your entrance with a finger and echoed your immediate groan at the welcome stretch.

"You really are ready," he remarked, awed at the ease with which your wetness sucked the digit in. Frankly, you were in awe as well. It had taken your ex-boyfriend months to figure out how to get you this worked up. Jungkook either had even more experience than you'd heard from the grapevine, or he was a natural. Or maybe you were just really, ridiculously, primally attracted to him. He went on to curve his finger in you and lick a messy swipe up your folds, sucking hard once he reached your sensitive clit. You cried out at the delicious burst of stimulation and he rose up to catch your lips with his.

"I had to do that, just once," he grinned breathlessly. "But—"

"Let me suck you off," you interjected, unbelievably fucking turned on and dying to please him.

"No," he gasped with far more fervency than you'd think anyone could refuse a blowjob. "Please, I was about to say—" he choked out a high-pitched moan as you ran a single finger up his shaft in anticipation, sinking the nails of your other hand into his thigh. "—I think I'm gonna explode if I don't get inside you right this second."

So he did have a breaking point. "Fuck," you muttered, bringing your legs around his to tuck your heels under his tight ass as he lined up. He eased his tip in, keeping heavy eyes on you the whole time, and you could feel the hot, thick tension in his thighs as he struggled to hold himself back from just thrusting into your heat. Slowly, he drew closer into you until he bottomed out with a low moan. You whined at the perfect slight pain of the stretch, and Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, gripping you by your waist. Watching the veins in his forearms stand out as he drove almost all the way out and back into you, you rocked your hips carefully against his with each smooth stroke, getting used to his fullness. When his balls met your ass again, he shuddered a bit and opened his eyes into yours.

You answered his question before he could even ask it. "Jungkook—you feel so good. You can go faster, it's okay."

A smile hit his eyes before his mouth, and he kissed you once, pressing his chest to yours and intertwining your tongues eagerly. You bit his bottom lip as he slowly drew away, tugging it between your teeth to pull a sweet little whimper from his throat. Grinning, he leaned back in to touch his forehead to yours and simultaneously slid a subtle hand under your ass to curve your hips up with his. The slight leftover sensitivity of your skin amplified his light touch, and Jungkook seemed to realize this, curling his fingers to tease you with the tips of his nails. Instinctively, you ducked to bite his neck, not even registering your move to pass the pain back to him until he choked out a beautifully half-restrained moan and snapped his hips into yours. Gasping, you encouraged him to lose himself in you, dragging your lips up to latch around his earlobe. He hissed and thrust into you sharply again, meeting the time of your movements as you swirled your tongue between each of his hoop earrings. Soon he was pounding you rhythmically, finally letting you feel the full force of his strength but keeping remarkable control over both his body and yours. Both of you had gone silent except for your heavy breaths, lost in the moment, but the flexed shivers of his thighs and twitches of his fingers in your hair told you all you needed to know. Suddenly yanking your strands to pull you back from the additional bruise you'd sucked beneath his ear, he earned a new set of scratches on his back as your hands dragged down the muscular expanse in reply. Jungkook switched places with you to draw dark clouds from your skin, a storm brewing under your jaw. Your face fell into pure bliss, eyes shut and immersed in the barrage of sensation from his hands, mouth, and big dick filling you. Already feeling the familiar tension that preceded an orgasm building through your whole body, you chased him closer to his climax too, grinding back roughly into every thrust and raking your hands over every part of his firm body you could reach.

You had really been fooling yourself when you thought you could try something casual for once. You wanted more of Jungkook, all of Jungkook, nothing but Jungkook ever again. Knowing he'd never even gone back to the same hookup twice sank slight anxiety into your stomach, a kind of future nostalgia for this moment you already feared losing. You knew you weren't anything special compared to the catalogue of gorgeous girls he'd had his turn with, but a deviant voice whispered from the back of your mind that you could be, because it was clear none had bothered to learn him like this. You'd still try your desperate best not to want too much from him, but you resolved to do whatever you could to make him crave more.

Rolling your hips in a smooth circle against him, you clenched around his dick and your hands tightened their fierce hold on his tiny waist. You felt his abs tense within your grasp as he tried not to stutter into you.

"Fuck. No." His voice cracked, but held an undertone of ferocity. "You come first." Jungkook rushed a hand to your clit, adding pressure in small, deft motions with a fingertip as he kept fucking you deep. You sank your teeth into his shoulder in response, drawing your hands up his back to clutch him closer to you, and Jungkook cried out. You left your mouth on his golden skin to stifle your moans as he sped up his fingers, and he tried to let you stay there but eventually couldn't help pulling you off him to see your face. Eyes narrowed and eyebrows turning up sharp at the ends, he watched you like a hawk to track the exact moment when he pushed you over the edge. Your face crumpled and you felt your whole body burn under his gaze as you came, squeezing around him in waves of pleasure while he fucked you through your high, unrelenting. Drinking up the bliss obvious on your features, Jungkook's eyes never left yours and his expression grew more and more fucked out. You marveled at how even as you lost control and energy to fuck him back, your body freezing in orgasm seemed to turn him on further. One last pulse of the tension leaving your core made his dick throb inside you, and you impulsively broke your eye contact to lean in and bite down slow but hard on his neck again. He gasped.

"You're amazing." Murmuring into his skin, you kissed the bite marks gently. Jungkook whimpered at the sweet contradiction and lurched into your hips even harder. You recovered to move with him, squeezing him deeper into you every time he bottomed out, and as his breathless moans escalated in pitch, his whole body shivered with each stroke. Pressing wet, heavy kisses all over his neck, you felt his jaw flutter while his lips hung open. His considerable strength spent, Jungkook shuddered one last hard thrust into you and finally let go, coating your walls from within. His hips lightly rocked against yours as he stayed deep inside you, still hard and savoring the euphoric release he'd held back for so long. You felt so incredibly warm and comfortable around his sensitive dick, relaxed but still holding him tight, and he couldn't help holding you up for a languid kiss before pulling out of you smoothly.

He briefly looked into your eyes, and you saw stars. The sun had continued to set outside, and it peeked between the blinds of his window to wrap you both in a warm, slivered glow. Staring down at his hands on your body, Jungkook took a deep breath and collapsed to your side, holding you close. You settled into him, cupping a hand over his head on your chest. With your fingers laced through his sweaty hair, you stroked his temple with your thumb, worrying for a second whether the gesture seemed too intimate but forgetting your fear when he snuggled up into your touch. You felt the need to say something, to figure out what the fuck was next after this, but stayed silent, not wanting to disturb the comforting weight of his frame. Heartbeat still racing, Jungkook stretched out to breathe a long sigh. As he sank back into you, you stretched under him too, letting his solid, warm body drape over you like a blanket. This couldn't be farther from what you'd expected with him, but you weren't about to make it stop. Surely, eventually, he would.

A minute passed. And then five. And then, before either of you could talk yourselves out of it, you were asleep, intertwined.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader smut #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #college!jungkook #college au!jungkook #bts college au #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #my writing #fic: anti-hero #anti-hero #anti hero

[luminousbeansarewe]

terra infirma

ch 1: courage

characters: original characters, original clone trooper characters, captain rex, anakin skywalker

tags: none

chapter list

tagged: @yourbitchystudentartist​ @vultures-and-scavengers​ @tupdidtherightthing​ ​(message me or reply if you’d like to be tagged!)

*************************************************

Coruscant, Galactic City, Republic Center for Military Operations, 21BBY

Rex was standing in the hangar bay with the sheer exhaustion of war hanging from his very bones. His men were filing out of the shuttles they’d taken down from the massive cruiser that hung in high atmo with a fair amount of its out hull peeling off like an onion skin. But the repair droids were hard at work, he was sure, and the 501st was due for some R&R after chasing Grievous halfway around the galaxy. He was sure the Jedi were getting as tired of tailing the craven cyborg general as he was. 

He’d counted the losses. They’d been less terrible than he’d thought, but still more than he liked. Then again, the only number of KIAs he ever liked to see was zero, and, well. That would have meant no fighting had happened at all. He tucked his datapad away, taking a deep breath as he pulled his bucket off his head and tucked it under his arm. 

If he’d been the type to pray, he would’ve said a prayer at that moment for the longest run of R&R days he’d ever had. But he expected no more than a few at most, at this point. His body would continue, but his spirit was a little burnt out.

Skywalker was approaching him from the shuttle, the last of the troopers having made their way out. The Jedi should’ve been as weary as he was; he’d been losing sleep over their quarry for some time now. But he looked alert, even charged with frustration— no. It was anger. Anger at how many men Grievous had cost him. Anger at how it was the least satisfying goal of his entire career to chase an enemy who had no qualms with simply running away. It might’ve been his ego getting bruised a bit, too, and Rex wouldn’t blame him. It wasn’t very Jedi-like, but the best thing about General Skywalker was that he seemed more like a person who understood other people than one of the distant, inscrutable monks. 

“The siege of Ryloth continues,” Skywalker said, “And Geonosis.” Yes, he was definitely energized, Rex thought. The clone captain tucked his own exhaustion away, for the moment.

“Are they asking us to redeploy soon, sir?” 

“Not yet,” Skywalker replied. “Better get your rest and relaxation in quick, though.”

“Relaxation? I’ll be happy with just the rest part, myself.” 

“Get as much of it as you can. I know this is wearing the men down.”

“Morale does seem a bit low, sir. But I’ll do what I can.” 

“I know you will, Rex,” Skywalker said, finally throwing that sad little soldier’s smile they all knew so well at the captain and clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“Anakin!” came a voice from behind a vocoder from several yards down the bay. The Jedi furrowed his brow as five troopers in matte gray armor sporting red paint detailing started in his direction. As they drew closer, Rex saw that it was commando armor, and they all bore a red teardrop shape on their chest plates amid the other decoration. He also saw that one of them was unusually tall, for a clone, and another one unusually short— and bearing a sergeant’s pauldron. 

“Yes, trooper?” Skywalker asked, unsure if they were the ones who’d spoken to him. The voice hadn’t sounded very much like a clone’s, but nobody else in the crowded hangar was paying any attention.

When the short one removed her helmet, though, the voice made sense. Beneath the bucket was a young woman with very dark tan skin, golden eyes, and a shock of white hair falling out of its bun. Even her brows and lashes were white, which was a little startling. What was more startling was that she was obviously not a clone, despite wearing commando armor. It was also startling that she was beautiful, but Rex wasn’t even processing that part yet. 

“Did you miss me?” she asked, grinning slightly crooked at the General. 

“Sol!” Realization had dawned on Skywalker, apparently, and he returned her smile in kind. “Force, I wondered if I’d ever see you around here again. How are you?” 

“Not bad. Let me introduce you to my squad!” she said, turning to gesture at them. As if on cue, the clones behind her doffed their buckets, too. “This is Stone, Swift, Twofer, and Grip.”

“Hello, troopers,” Skywalker said with a nod. “It’s good to see your faces. So, a commando unit, huh? And you’re Sergeant, I see.”

“Well, the Jedi wanted me to be commander of the 707th, but these guys bullied me into it,” she replied, and her grin became more charming by the minute. The larger clone, Stone, who had long hair tied up into a bun and a faint scar running across his clean-shaven face, smiled and nudged her in the back playfully. Swift, who was bald with a shadow of scruff on his chin and a tattoo of tiny wings on his cheek, rolled his striking blue eyes. Twofer, sporting cuts in his eyebrow, and Grip, who looked the most clean-cut of the lot, just looked at each other and grinned. “We’re Cronos Squad.”

“You’re Cronos Squad?” Skywalker asked, face lighting up with surprise and excitement. “The squad that sabotaged the seismic driver on Dantooine? And took down the Quarran base on Mon Cala? And arguably ended the fighting on Atraken that started a kriffing year ago?” Rex was surprised too, blinking as Anakin named their feats one by one. Oh yes, he’d heard of Cronos Squad. They were right up there with Alpha Squad and the Muunilist 10.

“I will say, it’s not that arguable. We definitely ended things on Atraken,” Grip said matter-of-factly. “And it was long overdue. Our poor vode down there had it rough.” 

“Yanno, I thought General Windu’s showdown on Dantooine would’ve gotten more press than us,” Twofer said, glancing over at Swift, who shrugged. 

“Oh, it got plenty, but the clones seemed more impressed with you lot,” Skywalker said. “Speaking of which, where are my manners? This is Captain Rex of the 501st Legion,” he added, turning towards the clone in question to clap his hand on his shoulder again. “He’s my right hand man. And my left hand man, too, to be honest.” 

“You don’t have a bad rep yourself, Captain,” Swift said. “I hear the 501st is the place to be.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” Rex said a little limply, his eyes flickering between Swift, Skywalker, and Sol. He was oddly nervous. “We certainly do our best.”

“Rex here won’t brag about anything unless it’s to the shinies,” Skywalker chimed in mischievously. “He says bragging inspires them, and annoys everybody else.”

“Is he wrong, though, sir?” Grip asked, his smile good-natured. By now Rex was keenly aware that Sol’s eyes had made a run up and down his figure, lingering on his helmet. 

“Captain Rex,” she began, “may I ask you how you acquired your jaig eyes? That is a rare honor.”

“Oh, uh, well,” Rex stammered, feeling his cheeks start to warm. “They were granted to me by a Mandalorian sergeant on Kamino after the Battle of Thrule.” 

“For an exceptional act of courage, I’m sure.” Her face had gone oddly soft, all of a sudden. “My mother was given jaig eyes, before I was born.”

“Now Sol,” Stone murmured, “we can’t tell the Captain your whole life story right now, or he’ll never make it to the barracks.”

“Um, well when it’s story time, count me in,” Skywalker said, looking with feigned indignation at her. “You never told me anything about your past, Sol.”

“Well, you were always so busy,” she replied rather impishly. 

“Excuses, excuses,” Skywalker tutted. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to the command center before Master Obi-Wan kills me. But I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.” And just like that, his very own general had abandoned Rex to his sudden and inexplicable awkwardness in front of a famous commando squad. Worse, one of them was a pretty girl. 

“Actually, Sarge, we should head up to see General Windu,” Swift said, leaning over towards Sol. “He’s expecting us.”

“That’s too bad,” she replied, still smiling at Rex. “Maybe we can all meet in the mess sometime. After all, you have a year’s worth of stories, Captain. We only have about two months.” 

“Well, I’m—”

“Or we could play bolo-ball, if we get the time,” Twofer suggested, raising his cut brow. Clearly, he’d heard of the 501st’s reputation regarding the one major recreation activity favored by almost every clone.

“Aye, that’ll work too,” Rex said with a relieved sigh of a laugh. He took some reassurance from the insertion of an activity he felt very comfortable with. Not all commandos were this amiable to their non-commando brothers. “My boys are on R&R for a bit. You’re welcome to come down and find us, if you happen to get a break, too.” 

“Count on it, Captain,” Swift said, throwing him a lazy salute. Cronos Squad was also famous, it turned out, for being lax on that sort of protocol. Normally Rex would’ve bristled at that a bit— but this time, he didn’t. The men turned; Sol lingered for a moment. 

“It was nice to meet you, alor’ad,” she said, giving him a nod that reminded him very much of the Mandalorian who’d bestowed on him his jaig eyes. “That just means captain,” she added. 

“Believe it or not, I know that one,” Rex replied with a smile. “But you could just call me Rex, if you wanted to.”

“Rex,” she said, as though she were testing the name out. “Ret'urcye mhi, Rex.” 

And then she turned, trotting to catch up to her squad, one of whom immediately punched her playfully in the shoulder. She pushed him back, then skipped ahead to avoid his rebuttal. Rex watched them vanish through a pair of doors into the complex.

Then, he realized his heart was beating doubletime. He thought he must be ridiculously tired, to have a brief social encounter like that put him in such a tizzy. Immediately he turned on his heel towards the transit tunnel that would take him to the barracks, a ‘fresher with a nice hot shower, and a bed he could collapse onto. He hoped his eyes were shut before he even landed on the mattress.

#star wars fanfiction #captain rex #captain rex x oc #anakin skywalker #swtcw #my fic #my ocs #cronos squad

[ctl-yuejie]

all of @howdydowdy‘s most loveliest tags for my fanfic, you are so wonderful i don’t know how i deserved the good luck to find you ;A;

1. #OH MY GOD!!!!!!!#it's here!! i'm gonna lose my whole entire mind!!!!!#well i hope everybody's ready for me to scream about every single installment as it comes out because this is the most important thing now#i didn't even know turnip!ah yuan was gonna be in it THIS IS THE BEST SURPRISE!!!!!#i feel so honored that my tags had anything to do with inspiring this incredible au but this is absolutely so much better#even in this short installment i'm getting such a good feel for the three characters who have made an appearance so far!#excited to see your lwj!!!#'the only thing his viewers enjoyed more than his content were the occasional take-downs Wen Qing was dishing out in the comment section'#ahahaha you are so funny#PLEASE EVERYONE LOOK AT THIS AMAZING FIC! I'M SO EXCITED FOR IT!!!!#i don't know all the things that are gonna happen but i have a general idea and guys it's such a good au#op is so creative and brilliant!!!#the untamed#ah yuan and his two dads will be the death of me#fic#these are a few of my favorite things

2. #second! installment!! time!!!#i feel like i'm a reader in dickensian london waiting for the new chapter to come out in the magazine#except there's less pollution and i don't have to put coal in an oven#why are those my associations with dickensian london? idk don't worry about it#jiang cheng makes an appearance! okay so i have never really understood him but i've been reading a LOT of fic#and i'm starting to get the picture i think#this is like...just the right amount ominous to get me super excited to see what happens next#WYD JC????#also wwx's characterization is just *chef's kiss*#<3 <3 <3 love u op you're too good to me#puns

3. #ohhhh shit everybody lwj is here! things are happening!!!!#i love all the sibling feels lxc gives me always#in every single fic i read he's like 'lwj i found another boy your age please be friends with him i love you so much'#oOoOoO the shoot will be four whole days i wonder what can happen in four days you guys...#like maybe...mister stoic guqin falling in love with disaster farmer man????#STAY TUNED#you know what just occurred to me is that lwj needs an emotion translator#i'm thinking like luther the anger translator for obama in those key & peele sketches#except it's just someone interpreting all of lwj's stoic faces#i mean lxc can read his faces so you'd think he could do it but idk if lxc himself is emotive enough#i'll have to think about it more

4. #this fic is the gift that keeps on giving#slowly introducing new characters...now we're meeting my sweet baby wen ning...i don't deserve this happiness...#also wei wuxian's carefree chaotic energy is just to die for#and what's this? jiang cheng appears on the horizon? narrowing his eyes at a tumbleweed that rolls across his path#his spurs jingling menacingly as he stalks ever closer?#hold on to yer hats cowboys i smell some Plot approaching#the untamed#fic#(okay also 'explosive arts & crafts projects' ahaha you are the best at these descriptions)

5. #oooooooo things are really coming together my dudes...#more jiang cheng content! okay he is really growing on me. grouch with a heart of gold. huge schemer. just wants to make fun of his BIL with#his brother but feels like he has to prioritize his ~responsibilities~#he loves wwx and understands what motivates him and at the same time just wants him to like. chill#the air quotes ahaha#that wwx makes them and that jc hates it#also i think my favorite image from this is the fact that one of the draws of the tv show is that all the cultivator hosts are handsome#which means that when lxc needed someone to cover for him he just went to the producers like#'no worries my little brother is also super hot so he should meet all your requirements'#'is he personable? no. does he speak in complete sentences? also no. but are the viewers gonna go batshit over his face? absofuckinlutely'#and the producers were like 'oh yeah dude say no more'#this is so fun i'm really enjoying these updates!!!

6. #not the city centre itself but a nearby mound#which sounds unusual and ominous#honey you got a big storm comin'#lwj is getting there early...oh fuck the suspense...#also 'either this is just how show business works or no one really knows what they are doing' why not both lwj??#ahaha i am cackling and steepling my fingers imagining how this is all gonna go down#babe i'm glad you decided not to give me spoilers because it is so fun watching things unfold

7. #i'm just imagining the perspective of the film crew showing up and it's a barren wasteland#they're like...wtf kind of establishing shots are we supposed to take of this??#don't worry guys the cutest child on the planet lives here. just get some footage of him frolicking in the turnip fields#the audience will lose their effing minds

8. #i love jc's logic like 'no one can find out about this or it'll be bad for the family. how to accomplish this? better get a film crew'#also i love how he's lowkey bitter that no one wants to interview him AHAHA jc you peach#and he's like 'maybe i'll watch the show. JUST TO MAKE FUN OF WWX FOR NO OTHER REASON'#wow i'm like becoming really fond of this character op!!!

9. #AHAHA love this image of lwj staring after nhs as he traipses down the street#'fancy birds? tf kinda innuendo is that??'#also lwj deciding to wear all white so that people won't approach him ahaha damn where is my equivalent outfit??#MATCHMAKER LXC STRIKES AGAIN!!!!!#did lxc even have to go out of town for real or was it all a setup to get lwj and wwx in the same place??#wouldn't put it past him tbh#lwj is so perfectly taciturn here i love it#and not just because he's not personable or something it's because he's having FEELINGS#also because wwx never shuts up lol#'he is doomed just like before because even this unknown wei wuxian he wants to be close to and find out who he is'#ughughguhgghhghhh how are you finding and pushing all my buttons???#hot DAMN i am HERE for this!!!

10. #i've now read this three times and i love it more every time!#you have such a way with words and i love how you're getting into wwx's head#it can be hard to relate to him with how dense he can be but you make it all seem incredibly plausible and realistic!!#i love him like 'wonder what it would be like to share a hotel room. it's totally normal that i'm thinking about this'#and like. you show how he got there in his thought process and it makes total sense!#also: lwj as eye candy YES EXACTLY#nhs is the perfect choice for a tv interior designer expert. that is SO what he would be doing in a universe with tv about interior design#okay and MOST IMPORTANTLY we have come to the part in the gifset!! this is the best crack that ever caught feels omg ilysm#demonic blood pool WEI YIIIIIIIING#wen ning being all yeah goth guys and blood pools two great tastes that taste great together#i love everything about this and it was so worth the wait. very excited for the next installment!!!

11. #you are LITCHRALLY killing me with this sharp characterization!! how are you nailing all their voices!!!!#nhs just in it for the hashtag drama that's so spot on omg. breaking all the rules HE wrote just so he can torture jc#all 'are you seeing this??? ARE YOU??' poor nhs and jc having to watch these two lovesick fools make googly eyes at each other#for YEARS and not REALIZE it well it's your lucky day mr. fan man because soon the whole world will see this UST and validate you#okay but what i love the most is jc the masochist being so uncomfortable he has to keep turning off the video ahahahaha#wangxian out here romancing so hard that jc needs a barf bag. or therapy. or selective amnesia.#you ever get secondhand mortifying ordeal of being known? that's what's happening for jc here#it's mortifying watching other people experience the ordeal of being known. this is the hardest i have ever related to jc#it's like oh fuck. lwj loves wwx and it's so obvious. oh my god. i'm so embarrassed.#wwx is so gone for lwj and it's right there on his face for anyone to read. i'm in agony.#ALSO 'jiang cheng can feel his head get hot and he drops the phone on the table like it personally betrayed him' THANK U FOR THIS#everything about this is the best and my favorite#ahhh i'm so excited for the next chapters and so glad they're already up so i can read them right now!!!!

12. #lxc shooting lwj pointed looks every time the jiang sect comes up in conversation for the past 13 years!!!!! he would!!!!!!#i love the way you describe wwx through lwj's eyes. the love just shines through#also you are so insightful about his character but what else is new??? you're the character breakdown QUEEN#OH MY GOD AH YUAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1111111111#i am writing these tags as i read or that would have been the first tag it's SO important#i mean my tag isn't important it's incoherent but AH YUAN IS IMPORTANT!!!!!#you really want me to die. you really want me to be all the way murdered.#this image of lwj just standing there with impeccable posture one arm behind his back the other holding a sword in the air randomly#with this squirmy lil bab clutching at his clothes and reaching up on his tiptoes#okay dang i didn't know there was gonna be action! intrigue!! an ambush!!!#this fic really has it all#bamf!wwx and rescuer!lwj#battle couple ftw#NOT TO MENTION DRUNK!LWJ!!! SELF SACRIFICING!LWJ!!!!!#how am i supposed to live knowing lwj Did That#ughghughghgughgh#'at least i made him happy.' at least you made him happy???!?!?!?#just let me live for a second!!!#just one second though then i'm gonna read the next chapter

13. #awwww jiang 'I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU I'VE JUST BEEN CUTTING ONIONS' cheng gets a tear in his eye#they are...a fambly.....#my man lxc coming thru for the people!! title of my upcoming inspirational children's book: Lan Xichen Takes a Stand#op you made me love jiang cheng. i'm in it now

14. #omg i forgot that you had written this and sent it to me weeks ago so when i read it just now i was like...obviously that's what happened???#i had already just fully incorporated it into my understanding of these characters in my head and forgotten how it got there#so this was the BEST surprise#i can't believe you. putting ah yuan and bunnies in the same chapter because you love drowning me in cute#soft domestic adoptive dad content???? ugh i literally need to lie down and go into a coma.#just a lil coma. to recharge my feels.#i don't know what you could possibly be putting in the 'extra' but i am. vibrating with excitement!!!!#this is one of my favorite fics ever and i'm forever happy that you came up with this amazing idea and executed it so well#I APPRECIATE AND ADORE YOU!!!#HEART EYES EMOJI#these are a few of my favorite things#the untamed#ah yuan and his two dads will be the death of me

15. #OH MY GOD NHS MASTERMINDED ALL OF IT#this is so perfect i'm in awe!!!!#of course he did!!!!#also 'he had been very invested in this romance he had even painted themed fans for this' ahahaha#these schemes! these machinations!! he got lxc out of the way! he put the idea in jc's head! ahhhhh!#mr. fan man

#ctlyuejie writes #well technically not #i collected these so i can reread them late #you have such a fun way with words #they are all brilliant

[tcm]

By Theresa Brown 

THE LETTER (’40) is the slow peeling of a woman who goes from cries of self-defense to the exquisite release of confession. This movie starts off with a bang.

I had the pleasure of being a Guest Fan Programmer on TCM during their 15th anniversary and the honor of introducing THE LETTER with Robert Osborne. I said then and I say now, the menage á trois of William Wyler, Bette Davis and Max Steiner makes this film the jewel in the crown of Bette Davis’ career.

THE LETTER is a Warner Bros. film starring Bette Davis, Herbert Marshall, James Stephenson, Gale Sondergaard and Victor Sen Yung, directed by the great William Wyler. Davis, as Leslie Crosbie, plays the wife of a rubber plantation owner (Marshall). Her character’s layers are peeled back like an onion, but don’t cry for her. When arrested for shooting a man who has attacked her, Leslie is fawned over, adored, lauded and practically given the keys to her jail cell during her arrest and incarceration. Even the jail matron gets in on the act:

“It’s a different place since Mrs. Crosbie’s been here...it’s a shame she has to stay here atoll.”

Pssst, can you spell 'privilege'?

She’s a liar and manipulator and acts with her Bette Davis eyes and hands and pregnant pauses. She’s a marvel to watch. In the film, the only one NOT falling all over himself is her lawyer (played by Stephenson). He has leading man looks and is worthy of acting opposite the Warner Queen. Stephenson stands toe to toe with Davis; theirs is a little chess match of give-and-take. His character does not gush; he just wants the facts:

“When I was looking at Hammond’s body… it seemed to me that some of the shots were fired after he was lying on the ground.”

A car’s headlights briefly shine into the camera and Max Steiner’s glorious score introduces us to Gale Sondergaard, playing the dead man’s widow. She’s dressed in black...somber, stately, handsome, elegant. You get a peek at what the plantation crowd’s thoughts were of the inter-racial marriage between one of their own and Sondergaard’s character:

“Strange that Hammond was able to keep his life so hidden; that gambling house he owned and especially the Eurasian woman. I think it was finding out about her that turned opinion so completely against him.”

Davis’ description of Sondergaard’s character is none too flattering either:

“Saw her walking in the village with those hideous spangles, that chalky painted face, those eyes like a cobra's eyes.”

I sometimes watch the movie from Sondergaard’s perspective and am utterly and absolutely sympathetic to her as the Wife in this colonial world. Wyler gives her two very commanding shots to laud her utter dominance in that moment. The ‘Wife vs. Mistress’ scene is sublime.

Victor Sen Yung who played Hop Sing on TV’s “Bonanza” is Stephenson’s legal assistant. He plays his role a bit on the subservient side, walking with quick mincing steps, his soft-spoken words delivered like deferential daggers in the heart and ever smiling. He knows he’s holding ALL the cards by possessing THE LETTER that means life or death to Leslie if revealed during her trial. But I ask, what would it have cost Warner Bros. to allow Sen Yung to act normally and not as an Asian stereotype?

There are many Asian characters on the periphery of events in this movie since it takes place in Malaysia, but I’d like to give a special shout-out to one actor in particular...my guy from the 1930’s, Willie Fung, the proprietor of the gift store during a big dramatic scene. He’s a hoot, smoking his opium, laughing at the Westerners with a laugh that rivals Dracula’s Renfield, as he watches the goings on.

You can lie to your husband but not your lawyer. The thankless job of husband is played by Herbert Marshall who, in the 1929-version of THE LETTER starring Jeanne Eagels, played the man who was killed by Leslie. In this 1940 remake, Marshall is doting, devoted, clueless and absent. It’s his long absences from her that leave the door wide open for Leslie to receive unwanted attention from men. Her husband questions nothing. Leslie is a heroine to him and all this business about a dead man on their front porch is a mere speed-bump until they can have their lives return to normal.

Master filmmaker William Wyler is at the helm. A three-time Academy Award winner himself for MRS. MINIVER (’42), THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES (’42), and BEN-HUR (’59), his films have won Best Actress Oscars for Davis, Greer Garson, Olivia de Havilland, Audrey Hepburn and Barbra Streisand. THE LETTER is filmmaking at its best. And no matter how many times you’ve seen it, Bette Davis is infinitely watchable.

#The Letter #William Wyler #Gale Sondergaard #Bette Davis #Victor Sen Yung #Herbert Marshall #Theresa Brown

[thesydneyfeminists]

Joss Whedon and Vee: It’s Complicated

By: Vee H.

Here’s the thing, I have a confusing relationship with Joss Whedon. If we were “Facebook official” (does anyone still call it that, or have I just revealed my true spiritual age of 105?) our relationship status would be “it’s complicated”. It didn’t used to be like that; as a teenager, I probably would have said my favourite tv show was Buffy The Vampire Slayer, with its spin-off, Angel, in second place. I fell in love with a premise that Whedon certainly did not create (one girl in all the world, blah blah) nor was he the best at executing it. Whether it was the characters he’d created, the actors playing them, the witty scripts and storylines – or a mix of all of these things, I was hooked. I staunchly defended the show, and by proxy, Whedon himself, from any harsh criticisms, and overlooked anything that now, as a 32-year-old, stands out as (and I hate using this word) problematic. I followed him from Buffy; to Angel, Dr Horrible’s Singalong Blog, Dollhouse (look, I skipped Firefly for some reason, I’ve tried dipping a toe in but space cowboys aren’t for me, it seems), and that’s not to mention the movies he had a hand in (not an exhaustive list) – The Cabin in the Woods, The Avengers and The Avengers Age of Ultron. I was loyal, if Whedon’s name was attached, most likely, I was all in. There was something comforting and familiar about his humour, the way he told his stories – all of them laughably simple but layered to make them more complex. Like Shrek and onions.

So maybe you’re wondering where I took a left turn, jumped off the Joss Whedon Fan Train, as it were. Admittedly, it was a slow process, it wasn’t just a running leap off into the unknown post-Whedon world. A few years after Angel ended, some things circulated in the Buffy and Angel fandoms, rumours of how he treated his favourites, and those who had fallen out of favour with him. One of those people being Charisma Carpenter. In 2009 at a convention, a fan asked her how she felt about Cordelia’s last story line in Angel and how the show changed after her departure. While she didn’t explicitly come out and say the exact reason, she hinted that Whedon had been mad at her for making certain life decisions that would directly impact the vision he had for his show. Rumours have long since abounded that, in short, he punished her for falling pregnant. Obviously, no one but Carpenter and Whedon know the true story and at the time of hearing it, I took it with a grain of salt, but that seedling sat in the back of my mind and began to grow. After all, it explained a lot about the fourth season of Angel, and why the character of Cordelia made a complete 360. It was here that my relationship with Whedon started to sour, I began to question how someone who was so outspoken and publicly proud to be a feminist, could treat a woman that he had worked with for nearly a decade like that.

With that knowledge in mind, it was hard not to view some of the dialogue and plot points in his media a little differently, this is only one small example, but looking back, there is way too much slut shaming going on in Buffy to the point where Faith (my favourite character in the whole series, don’t @ me, I’ll defend her until I die) is seen as a lesser person than everyone else, because other female characters (Willow, Cordelia and Buffy herself) have branded her as a “cleavagey slutbomb”. Sure, ok, she goes and kills a bunch of people but they focus on her being slut much more than a psychopath – and I feel the need to point out that we only actually saw her sleep with one person (Xander) by the time the slut shaming actually started, and not that we should count, but Faith only slept with three people (Xander, Robin, and Riley in Buffy’s body) in the whole course of the show. And she killed four humans. Which means in Joss Whedon’s world, if you’re a woman, having sex is a worse crime than murder. Not exactly a feminist message.

Cut to just last year, when Whedon’s ex-wife, Kai Cole, came out with a heartbreakingly honest account of just what went down in their marriage. Details of his infidelity, gaslighting and emotional manipulation came spilling out of her, and sure, you could argue she was an embittered ex-wife, wanting to hit him where it would hurt the most, but it’s interesting to note that Whedon himself has never actually outright denied or refuted these claims. And ok, infidelity does not strip you of the right to call yourself a feminist, but as written by Clementine Ford “it's about how he absolved himself in a letter sent to Cole after his infidelity had finally been exposed, blaming the women he cheated with, calling them "beautiful, needy, aggressive young women" who "surrounded" him.” It’s about how he used his feminist badge as a shield, claiming he was raised feminist so he just liked women better, or how he claimed in a letter to Cole, and I quote, “in many ways I was the HEIGHT of normal, in this culture. We’re taught to be providers and companions and at the same time, to conquer and acquire — specifically sexually — and I was pulling off both!”

With all of these things in mind, I started to see Whedon’s feminism as what it likely is; performative, a way to excuse his behaviour, a safeguard to hide behind as if to say, “oh no, I am not like other men at all, although I may act as other men do and fully accept my privilege as a cis-het white male, I’m different. Because I’m a feminist so when I do these terrible things to women, it’s ok, because I love, respect and support women.” Maybe he truly believes he’s a feminist, publicly, he flies the flag very well, and there’s no denying he’s profited from this label, heralded as a great feminist hero, an ally to women everywhere. It’s only when you start to scratch the surface, peel back the layers of the Shrek-onion, do you start to see him for what he (in my mind) really is. A dudebro playing at being the nice guy, someone who says all the right things but whose actions don’t quite match up, in fact, they crumble under any real scrutiny (for further proof of this, go read the leak of the Wonder Woman script, allegedly by Whedon. If you can make it through the whole thing, I’ll buy you a coffee – hell if you can make it through the first 10 pages).

Where does that leave Joss and I then? I admit that I’m conflicted, in a culture that has moved more and more towards “cancelling” people I’m the proverbial fence sitter. I acknowledge that there are people, media, etc that are problematic (the dreaded word) and I think everyone has the right to decide whether or not to consume said media. And for myself, personally, I endlessly flip between the two schools of thought. I won’t watch anything new with Johnny Depp, nor anything from Woody Allen, for example, but I have gone back (since Amber Heard spoke of her abuse at his hands) and watched some of Depp’s older movies. Some people have told me that they disagree, that even watching his older stuff is wrong, that I should ban all forms of Depp media from my life otherwise I am giving him my tacit approval, and that’s their choice and their right, but I suppose I’m still working out where I want to draw the line. I (maybe naively and incorrectly) believe that I can view a piece of media and know its flaws, or the flaws of the person behind it, but still somewhat enjoy it for what it is, or the story it’s telling.

Maybe that’s where I am with Whedon, somewhere in between, neither in the black or the white, somewhere in the shades of grey, because that’s how life is sometimes. I don’t think he’s a fully bad person, nor do I think he’s a fully good person. I think he’s human, and humans are inherently flawed. And maybe that feels like a cop out, but it’s all I have to offer right now. My view of him will never be as it once was, and thus my viewing of the media he has created and produced will likely reflect that. Re-watching Buffy and Angel has become a different experience; I’m no longer blindly swept up in the twists and turns, the witty repartee between characters, but instead viewing through a different lens, one where I question what message he's really trying to send, what his true intentions are. Instead of laughing at every single joke, they never quite land right with me anymore, my childish naivety gone, replaced with the simmering anger of a woman who wonders why sexist jokes and judgements are supposed to be funny, why the rape of a female character is an excusable plot device to teach men a lesson. It’s exhausting to second guess someone I don’t even know, but this is the brave new world that a combination of his behaviour and my own feminist journey has left me in. These days, I wouldn’t ever say “I love Joss Whedon”, like I would’ve back in my teenage years, more likely you’ll find me saying “I loved Buffy but God it’s weird to watch as an adult”.

Like I said, it’s complicated.

Sources:

http://oranges8hands.tumblr.com/post/117924895453/charisma-carpenter-transcript-on-being-fired

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_igTbXKPck

https://www.thewrap.com/joss-whedon-feminist-hypocrite-infidelity-affairs-ex-wife-kai-cole-says/

https://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/clementine-ford-why-joss-whedons-treatment-of-exwife-kai-cole-matters-20170821-gy16lx.html

https://indiegroundfilms.files.wordpress.com/2014/01/wonder-woman-aug7-07-joss-whedon.pdf

Image sources:

Yahoo.com

tenplay.com.au

#buffy the vampire slayer #buffy #angel #angel show #joss whedon #feminist #joss whedon's feminism #feminist review #whedon shows #sexism #feminism #problematic shows

[praphit]

MI6: if you're not peeling off your face and eating waffle ice cream... you're not living.

　

We have gotten some great action this year, haven't we??!

First we got Liam Neeson, literally jumping from train car to train car. One train car simply didn't contain enough bad guys to beat up. Seriously, picture Liam Neeson getting bored on the train, (due to already beating everyone up), crawling out the window, climbing up top of the train car, so he could jump to another car to beat asses - that's how this year started!

Then, we got Thanos - who beat up an entire universe; let that soak in. Not only did he beat up a universe, but a universe full of superheroes. He beat them in humiliating fashion, and then made them disappear. I don't know if anyone in history has ever known such defeat.

We had Black Panther, fighting for all black people. I could have sworn I saw someone walking through the mall wearing a BP outfit; that's accepted as normal now. Black Panther is now part of our culture/heritage.

And of course we had about five movies with The Rock in them (prob five more to come). He has been beating up anyone he can find: gangs, giant gorillas, wanna-be super villains - the last movie I saw him in he jumped from one building to another building (on fire, mind you... the building was on fire... though it wouldn't have surprised me if The Rock had also been casually on fire as well) - he had a prostetic leg, which was coming off - so a one-legged Rock jumped from one tall building to another, through a window, so he could beat up this burning building.

That's a whole lot of action! - and I love it!

But, my man Tom Cruise says - "Pssh, you call that action? - All of that CG, all of those "super powers", all of those fake explosions and stunt men. I do it phorealz! Let me remind y'all how it's really done."

- Though we may say "But, Tom, you're 55 years old!"

TC: "55 years young, baby... 55 years young."

BOOM! All in yo face with the action in "MI6: Fallout"

Here we find Ethan Hunt (TC) once again accepting a mission. But, this time, he seems sad about it. This time he's battling inner demons. He's thinking to himself, "Man, I'm tired. I've been making these movies for so long. I've lost count on how many bones I've broken trying to entertain you fools who won't go to see my Oscar worthy performances anymore. Plus, how many loved ones have I put in danger by choosing to accept these impossible missions?"

All of this doubting and self loathing is "falling out" and compiled on top of failing a mission, and BOOM! - we're on our way!

I'm not gonna waste time here - I LOVED THIS MOVIE! TC knows what I love! Not just what I LIKE, but what I LOVE!

I like Burger King (double whopper, are you kidding me?? Onion Rings... and those french toast sticks... lip smacking good), but I LOVE this new place I discovered in Hampden (Baltimore), MD. It's called "Waffie" (if you care about enjoying life you'll google it and go) - Waffle/Desserts, and even ice cream action. I'd go there every day and every night if I could. I may get a job there... I'm going to own that place one day.

Oh my goodness... each bite takes me to Heaven.

Gonna get married in that place. My wife will give birth in that place. And yes, I will be buried in that place too... with a ice cream waffle in my mouth....

But, anyway.... people may say, "John Praphit, that sounds like obsession to me." To that I say, "You don't know what love is!" If it's not border line insane, it's not love!

LOVE, people! TC gives it to me with these MI movies. You never get tired of what you love:

　

Masks - Why aren't more movie makers putting face-peel-offs in their films?

They make any movie better!

Think about The Titantic! Remember when Leo asks Kate Winslet to kindly strip down so he may wholesomely paint her? What if after she undresses... BAM! - face peel off! Maybe she's an elderly black lady under there!

It'll even work for a cartoon. Remember "Inside Out"? - the character "Joy". As we get to know Joy and how joy works in our lives. The other emotions start cheering Joy, the camera zooms in and... BOOM! - face peel off! Now, she's not an emotion at all, but a cocaine addiction. YES! - see that?? - layers!

Action -

There is a bathroom scene in here that has one of the best action sequences of all time! In fact, this changes the game. Everybody is going to do their action in the bathroom from now on. The Rock's next movie, on his way to fight some sorcerer, he'll prob jump out of a plane, through a ceiling, into a bathroom for an epic battle.

There's also a helicopter scene in here (TC actually flying) - it's kickass, and somehow while it's all so amazing with the action, the shots of the scernery are equally as amazing. This director was able to entertain me with more than bullets and karate, but with a beautiful sunrise.

It was like - "Damn, your face is ALL effed up! But, that part of the mountain is so vivid... it's a shame someone is about to blow it up."

Lastly (with the action), there's a scene where Tom sprints for like 15 minutes straight. TC is a good bit older than me... I have never ran that well in all of my life, and I used to run track & field. TC should be running in the Olympics.

　

Espionage (& music) - I was once again hyped that I can accomplish anything in life as long as I assemble the right team. And that music! You can tell whether the mission is going to fail or succeed by the music. You know that MI tune :) I wish life were that way. Let's all start praying that God adds some cool music to our personal lives; when it cranks up we know we're on the right track.

This movie is really all about the team, not just TC! - that's prob why it works so well. Everyone has their chance to shine. That's the prob with peepz like Denzel and The Rock; they never have the right team assembled... they usually never have a team at all. Tom doesn't really have to carry these movies (though he's a great actor) - it's all about the mission, the friends, the suspense, and the face peel offs, baby! Denzel and The Rock ain't got none of that (though I love them both).

I recently saw Denzel's "The Equalizer 2" - decent action flick, but it was only good when Denzel was on camera (by himself, cuz other people just dragged him down). Learn from MI movies! It's about the team!

You may say, "But, Praphit, what about The Avengers?" Aaaah, they've got the team, but they don't have TC's tenacity; his utter craziness to keep doing his own stunts. Captain America and Iron Man and Thor and all of them play it too safe; that's why Thanos won. If TC were leading them, they would have beaten Thanos to an awesome soundtrack, and someone would have ripped off their face! Maybe Black Widow... to reveal she has been Stan Lee the whole time.

Grade: A

I'm sure they'll make another one. TC doesn't seem to be slowing down anytime soon. Are there any young action heroes anymore? - apparently it doesn't matter, but I can't think of any (Vin, The Rock, Liam, Charlize, Denzel, Will, Keanu, Gal, Scarlett, Sly) - not that these peepz are... you know... OLD (well some are), but no twenty somethings. Action heroing is an old persons game! It takes time to develope kick ass moves, to find ridiculous scripts, and piss bad guys/gals off.

Tom Cruise (and others still putting your bodies through this madness at an older age), I salute you. May your craziness and dedication never waver in making these silly movies for us.

I want to see MI10, with Tom in his 70's, still sprinting and peeling off his face.

#Mission Impossible #Fallout #MI6 #john praphit #praphitproductions.com #tom cruise #Avengers #The Rock #praphit #liam neeson #denzel #action movies #action heroes

[dragonflymage]

38 INFPs Explain How They Heal Themselves After A Heartbreak

Each type handles heartbreak a little differently. As feeling-dominant types, INFPs often feel heartbreak incredibly intensely – but that doesn’t mean they can’t move past it healthily and successfully. Below, 38 INFPs share what they do to heal their hearts when they’ve been broken. 

1. “Don’t deny or avoid your emotions – deal with them. Avoiding the pain prolongs the agony. The process is like an onion – peeling it back (cry, mourn, pain, anger, acceptance) one layer at a time. Be gracious with yourself. Experiencing heartbreak is like experiencing a death -their presence no longer exists in your life but they are still alive. Appreciate the memories you made but take the lessons learned. Don’t let your heart break over an upgrade. You may not realize why it ended today but with understanding and perspective with time bring healing.”

2. “Open up your senses and get in touch with the physical world. Go for more nature walks, go for runs, and find something new and exciting, where you can channel your introverted feeling. Read meditation books. This is also a time to pursue your passions and to focus on yourself (and career).”

3. “Heartbreak was a very real thing for me. I felt it so incredibly deeply that nothing else seemed real for awhile. I held on tight to the possibility of him and I working out eventually. All that did was cause more pain and made me look like a fool being strung along by a guy who didn’t really know how to end things. What I had to do was separate myself completely. I had to quit him cold turkey. He was one of my best friends, so that was hard. We dated for nearly five years; he felt like a part of me. I had to stop myself from texting him when I missed talking. And I couldn’t respond to his messages or snapchat. I couldn’t run to him for support any more, and I couldn’t be at his beckon call. He broke my heart, so he doesn’t deserve my attention. I had a hard time letting go because I felt like if he didn’t love me, no one could. He knew so much about me that no one else knew, therefore, the true me must be unlovable. I would tell other INFPs that they need a support system. Don’t turn in on yourself when you’re hurting because this will ultimately lead to foolish mistakes. Talk to trusted friends and stay away from the one who hurt you. You will find someone worthy of your deep love and they will make your heart soar even higher than before.”

4. “Honestly, I cannot let go until I have been destroyed completely.”

5. “Read books that address grief…listen to music, be around people who are nurturing rather than draining.”

6. “Leave. Just ran away keep running away. Till one day. Its fine again. We never forget the special one. But we eventually allow ourself to remember to love ourself more.”

7. “I’ve never been in a relationship, but I’ve gone through a heartbreak that felt as deep as if I was in one. Such is dominant Fi. I spent a lot of time rationalizing how he made me feel and giving chances, alternating between love, hate, anger, pain, tears before I was finally able to move on. Completely cutting contact is the only thing that worked in the end. Both physically and mentally. I actually became addicted to him, which is not something I recommend to anyone. Through this ordeal though, I realized I do have worth, and have been working on building self-confidence. It’s still going to take a lot of time to heal my trust in people, but learning from your mistakes is something that is highly underestimated. There are usually underlying reasons why we’re attracted to toxic people or those with the same personality patterns. Find that pattern, and learn the whys of your inner psyche instead of moving on to repeat the same mistake.”

8. “After a heartbreak, I crawl back into myself – take some time to reflect. I tend to do a lot of journaling and watching movies that make me feel less alone. I think as an INFP – it is a good plan to take a little break from the world and heal yourself.”

9. “I give myself permission to feel my feelings. I make it a point not to be so hard on myself and take more blame for the demise of the relationship. I listen to music and delve into the things that feed me creatively.”

10. “Definitely avoid listening to music/the radio. Pretty much every song will suddenly magically relate to the lost relationship and stir up All Of The Feels.”

11. “First I internalize everything and silently suffer for a really long time. I think about nothing else, and it comes out in everything I do. After I’ve finally exhausted poetry, songs, dreams and daydreams and I’ve re-lived it and thought it through upside down and backwards, I’m able to realize not to take it too personally. I am still whole, and a human being with beautiful dreams and desires. Heartbreak doesn’t make me less of a person, even though I might feel like it. I just try to accomplish little things, like clean my room and pay extra attention to the way I look–little things that will make me just a teeny bit happier. I guess my advice to other INFPs would be to just allow yourself to feel. Don’t internalize it or pretend it isn’t there. Write poetry, and listen to sad songs. Journal, think, create, and process while you do it. Letting it all out and acknowledging your pain will make it easier to think about, and place in your past once you’ve fully dealt with it.”

12. “Wallow, obsess, cry, write, lie in bed depressed, eat junky foods.. I’m not saying these things are all healing, but it’s what I do when heartbroken.”

13. “I journal through the heartbreak. I cry until I no longer can. I isolate myself more that usual to process everything, but I make sure to spend quality time with supportive friends and family when I’m not a complete emotional mess. I write love letters to people in my life that have positively impacted me (and send them). I write gratitude lists of all the things I’m thankful for. I try to immerse myself in nature where it’s quite and peaceful (I definitely recommend hiking). I also make time for the things I enjoy, like going to concerts and getting a massage. If a fellow INFP is facing heartbreak, I would definitely advise them to journal and write about the experience and their feelings. I’ve created good poetry out of heartbreak. Another thing that I did that helped heal myself was volunteering in my community and serving others.”

14. “Talk to a trusted friend. Pray. Journal. And when strong enough, reach out to others who need encouragement and help – don’t allow yourself to wallow too long.”

15. “I talk, talk, talk with friends about the heartbreak. I listen to music that understands. I go places where big crowds of people are having a great time, to remind myself that none of those people even know the person who broke my heart, but they’re having a great time anyway. This is a good way to remind myself that the world doesn’t revolve around that person. I swim laps. It’s not just refreshing and good exercise, it’s also that the rushing water in your ears blocks out all the noise and quiets things down inside you. I write about it, but I try to keep the writings private and resist the temptation to post them online where the person can see it. I go on vacation but don’t post any pictures or blog about it where the person can see it. I revel in doing things I love that that person hates. Chances are, I’m just coming out of a phase where I tried to convince myself I hated those things too, just to appeal to that person. Advice? I don’t know. Just try to remember that it won’t always hurt this much.”

16. “I listen to music or watch/read something. It helps to know that others are going through the same issues as me, or have gone through them in the past. It helps to hear lyrics that fit my situation or see characters who are struggling with the same things I am struggling with. Also Disney Movies and Chocolate Ice Cream is always a good idea!”

17. “Write a list of all the things that bothered me about the person I’m heartbroken about. Keep referring to it when I feel said. Write everything, for example, his toes were too hairy. Connect with my friends and family and tell them how I’m feeling and ask them for their momentary support. Apologize for being needy. Keep to my normal routine. Read anything that I think will help me recover more quickly. Get back on the horse even though I don’t want to. Remind myself that life is just experience and it’s only my perception that makes it a good or bad experience. Try to convince myself that this was a good experience.”

18. “I usually spend a lot of time writing about it. Letters to the person that I don’t send , just keep in a notebook. I also spend a lot of time alone, to process it. I try to move slowly and gently as well. I don’t know why it helps but it does. I cry a lot, on purpose, to get it out. And then after a certain amount of time, talk to the people close to me about it. After different perspectives and support, it’s easier to handle. I would suggest to INFP types to let yourself feel the pain and to let others support you.”

19. “When you’re going through heartbreak as an INFP, make sure you take care of yourself physically. And even though you might want to curl up in a ball and hide in the closet, call a friend. Reach out and ask for help.”

20. “I grieve hard, and feel like I will never love again, like nothing else in the world matters but the intensity of my sadness. I need to not isolate, to be with loved ones, to keep open to love, to listen to heart breaking music and sob till nothing is left. I need to lie under the stars, to pull the pieces of myself back in, to get creative, to eat well and keep hydrated, to maintain my yoga practice.. Or at least, this is all good advice for me!”

21. “Try to find balance between rest, fun, and work. During heartbreak, I often go into hibernation and stay in bed all the time. At the same time, if I make myself too busy with fun and work, that will ultimately make my situation a lot worse, and I will most likely break down even worse than before. I would say make sure to hang out with friends and go out, to remind yourself there are still good things in life, and to remind yourself that you can have a good life. At the same time, be gentle with yourself, and take time to watch TV and drink tea. That’s important too.”

22. “Watch films about breakups (I.e. Forgetting Sarah Marshall), films or TV that will make me laugh. You’ve just got to ride the wave of sadness, and try to surround yourself with the things you love and enjoy.”

23. “First thing, I give myself time. I feel too deeply, too violently and a heartbreak can be destructive for me. So I rest, take time to heal.I spend a lot of time alone in the beginning. I sleep a lot, take the time to cry. I do things that appease me. Then I see people who help me: friends who make me feel secure, family I feel comfortable with. I write a lot to get the feelings out. The advice I’d give is take your time, don’t be embarrassed if it takes a lot, accept all the feelings, let them surround you, and deal with them in the way you’re used to it. INFPs know. They know how it feels to be crushed by emotions. So they cope all in their own way. But mostly in alone time and thinking and seeking comfort from their trusted and loved ones.”

24. “I honestly just have to give myself a few days to ride out the emotions, absorbing them and feeling overwhelmed. Listening to music helps, and exercising. Then, after I’ve felt like I’ve allowed myself enough time just to feel and start to accept it, I get busy. I try something new, get into a different atmosphere than the one I was in, and immerse myself in life other than what I feel. Even so, it can take months, even years, to feel like I’ve finally accepted it and can move on, depending on the situation. My advice to other INFPs is to just take one day at a time, and remember that each day is a new start – you can choose to be whoever you want. The situation hurt you, but didn’t break you because you’re still here. You and your worth are not defined by it either, so don��t let a bump in the road be a pit you get stuck in.”

25. “I can tend to fixate on my hurt feelings and the loss of a really great idea that I had been so focused on. (This is usually accompanied by lots of sleeping, chocolate, and sappy movies/music.) To move on I tend to focus on remembering who I am as an individual and what I care about, and I try to find things to look forward to or get excited about to occupy my thoughts and time.”

26. “Phase 1: Whenever possible, I cloister myself away. I write in my journal to get some perspective, call my friends for marathon conversations, eat comfort foods, binge-watch TV series, cry it out, sleep, rinse, and repeat. The goal of this phase is to: (A) get comfortable with being a single, companion-less entity again, (B) work through my emotions and memories to understand the ‘how’ and ‘why’ of the end of the relationship, and (C) identify a way to move forward, keeping in mind the lessons learned. Phase 2: I make plans to go out and be with friends, keep myself busy, work on personal projects I’d been putting off, maybe do something different with my hair, start learning something new (in my case, I’d pick a language). This helps to prevent falling into a perpetual depression if Phase 1 drags out. If I stick with Phase 2 long enough, I’ll get over it. Once my Fi has been given the attention it needs, engaging my Ne is the best way to bounce back, be happy, and feeling like myself again.”

27. “Don’t take it too personally; don’t let that inner voice destroy you. It helps me to withdraw a little, take time to relax and contemplate. Also exercise has done wonders for me.”

28. “Give yourself time to grieve, and heal. Grief has no time limit, so take as much time as you need. We INFP’s take things so personally, and we are famous for internalizing our sorrow. So, I urge you, take care of yourself, go out with friends and embrace your family. Forgive them, and yourself too.”

29. “I’ve been recently heartbroken, so this experience is very fresh to me yet. After a long time of staying in bed crying and wishing to go back in time to change things that I’ve done, I finally started to do things that I usually liked to do, to try and see the good things in the world again. The most important thing I learned was self control. I had to control my emotions, not think about the past, and change completely the way I treated this person. I try not to dwell on impossible dreams, and focus my attention on the little things I love and in the possibilities of the future. It’s very hard, and it took me months to be able to do that! I still talk to him because we’re still friends, but now I’m changing and letting the past behind. I know everybody say that, but we do survive. The future IS bright and full of possibilities, and we just have to let time heal our wounds. Don’t isolate yourself completely. Respect your healing and alone time, but you’re not alone. Rely on your closest friends and family members and let yourself be loved. In time, you will heal and become a new person. Even though it hurt like hell, you will see it as a lesson.”

30. “I honestly just let it hurt and cry it out. Holding it in never made much sense to me. It’s never been hard for me to let people go either. Don’t forget the good times but understand that it’s time for a new adventure.”

31. “Hide under the covers as long as possible. Talk to a close friend who won’t mind the endless dissection and analysis of what went wrong. Time time time.”

32. “Write down everything you feel and think about, ask yourself questions, logical questions and take your time answer them. I know you will find the answers by your own cause you’re smart and you always do. it’s okay to be hurt life isn’t perfect so are people, you were sincere and loyal it’s not your fault it’s not that they didn’t love you as much as you do but it’s how life is, stop wasting your time and energy. it will probably take long time until you’re able to go on and forgive or stop missing them, but remember that what happened doesn’t mean you won’t be able to trust or love anyone again, it just mean that you have now more experience and more In-depth thoughts and wisdom about who you wanna fall in love with, who you want to be in your life and who you can trust. finally, after you take your time being alone and communicating with your emotions and thoughts it’s probably the right time to be around your amazing friends have fun and enjoy the jokes and be in the moment. Smile, laugh and interact spontaneously because it’s the time to feel alive again.”

33. “I get obsessed wit the gym. I lie to myself and tell myself I’m okay. But honestly, I’m not sure I ever really get over it.”

34. “The INF combination will cause all sorts of issues – the I wants to reflect on what happened, almost to an obsessive point; the N will wonder what you could have done and will lament over what could have been; and the F is simply sad. So while it’s okay to reflect (I), it’s also a time to look forward to a new normal. This will activate the N in thinking of possibilities. The F will recover – just give it time. It’s okay to feel happy again, and it’s okay to still be sad sometimes.”

35. “I tend to take a lot more time to myself than I usually do. I cry, I sit in silence, I meditate I talk to myself and to God. When I have to do things, I put on some kind of music or a podcast to distract the language processing part of my brain from all the nasty ways it tries to convince me it’s somehow all my fault. Eventually, the ache fades enough for me to talk about it with those closest to me (usually my sister). As an introvert, I find that have to give myself a lot more time than others seem to before I can start to push myself to move on.”

36. “I faced a recent heartbreak in December. I think my Fi literally went crazy. As in, I just couldn’t face the actually reality of life – that the person I LOVED had just crushed me and my vision of our present and future together. For about a month I was in the grip of this Fi deeeeeeppppp sadness, or perhaps it was just a kind of hormonal drug like withdrawal. The one thing that helped me the most was the fact that I had a fashion blog and my artwork that I literally had to keep going. I suddenly had so much time on my hands that I used to put into this other person, that now I could put into my own creativity. By DOING and being in my creative flow for MYSELF and not someone else, I was able to feel confident again. Then a month after the break up I reconnected with an amazing, generous, wonderful male friend and after a week we starting dating! I haven’t looked back since and am now SO grateful that I had my creativity and put energy into myself and focused on helming myself through action and not letting my sadness overwhelm me. 8 months later we are in the happiest relationship ever and my blog, confidence and happiness and thriving! SO INFPS…don’t get stuck in your dark emotions! Don’t get paralyzed in the negative cycles of those emotions. I also think you need to honor yourself and face the sadness for a certain period of time, just don’t let it get out of control.”

37. “Write about it a lot–you need to make some kind of sense of your loss. Take yourself out on meaningful, liberating adventures. Throw your creative energy into something/someone else.”

38. “When I’m heartbroken I tend to reflect. A lot. I come from different angles of the situations to understand why the situation played out the way it did and how I could grow from it as an individual and for the next relationship to come. To heal I usually journal, exercise, talk to friends and just try to rebuild a new norm without that person being around. Writing pieces and reciting them at spoken words do a lot for me. It’s a nice release from emotions I wouldn’t be able to express out loud in regular conversation. I don’t know how credible my advice would be because we all handle things in different ways but I guess i would say let the heartbreak break you open into a whole new magical being. One who can overcome the lonely night’s of confusion and feelings of guilt or inadequacy and channel your losses into art. Express yourself in any form. It’ll fill the void that you think you have within you. Also, quality sleep and laughter are the best ancient remedies to live by.” (source)

#infp #mbti #myers briggs #relationships #personality

[halfacat]

Ex Machina Passes the Test | GD

A

Powerful and thought-provoking, Ex Machina asks the real question: what are we?

*longer review

Yes, I'm lame. It took me two years to watch something of Alicia Vikander's, and I am ashamed. To be frank, I was scared to watch it. It was about AI, and practically nothing came out (save I, Robot and maybe Transcendence) that truly captured AI's and what they really were. In fact, Ex Machina tops it as one of the best relationship-driven science fiction movies I've seen what with its gradual exploration, strange characters, and beautifully complicated ending. Oh, and Alicia Vikander.

Caleb (Domnhall Gleeson) wins a competition that allows him to go live with Nathan (Oscar Isaac), a genius recluse - the founder of Blue Book (aka Google) and the first person to successfully create an AI aka Ava. Nathan puts Caleb under the Turing test, in which he has to distinguish whether a machine is truly intelligent or just stimulated. If Ava passes this test, she is intelligent - the first AI to be so, and if not, Nathan will just dispose of her and continue working. The first few days are awkward between Caleb and Nathan and Ava. You're kind of just waiting for something to go wrong, but nothing happens - just super eerie music.

At this point, you realize two things: 1) how much you like Ava and 2) how good of an actor Oscar Isaac is. I've seen Domnhall Gleeson before, primarily in Black Mirror and as Bill Weasley. I know he can act and give off a successful awkward persona. But I particularly surprised with Isaac. The only other movie I've seen of his is X-Men: Apocalypse and in it, he was sorely misrepresented. He has Nathan brought a different side of him that I didn't realize before, and it's brilliant. Cranky, volatile, and a drunk, Isaac beautifully portrays his character, who is not only a genius but also disturbing giving true meaning to the stereotype that all geniuses have no life. As for Alicia Vikander, she pulls off a great robotic - fake and stilted - voice and gives off an air of innocence, such that when you slowly realize she is not what she seems, you go, "Wait...but...". Moreover, coupled with the multitude of nature shots and shots of her by herself alongside a hungover Nathan, you feel sympathy for her and (dare I say it?) want her to escape.

With great performances from the actors and majestic cinematography that gives appropriate breaks between the story, the plot itself is also fresh and wonderful. It reveals itself like an onion - layer by layer - and mostly through the interaction between Ava and Caleb. During the mysterious power cuts, they engage in secret conversation in which Ava gets closer to Caleb's heart and Caleb gets further from his brain. In fact, there's such a big use of dramatic irony that I kind of wanted to tear out Caleb's hair for being so blissfully ignorant. But this relationship is what fuels the rest of the film. Human vs robot, robot vs human - it's hard to ascertain which is the more dominant species. In the scene where Caleb slits his arm making sure he is human, it makes us wonder: who are we?  What are we? What is Ava? There comes a question of what we really are and what we are capable of doing, whether that be creating new species or destroying our own indirectly.

The more and more the film progresses, the more the onion divulges itself. There is a weird contrast between Caleb and Ava that is not just physical. I felt almost bad for Ava and angry towards Nathan for being so cruel to his creations, when in fact, I shouldn't be at all because they're just man-made technology. Of course Nathan has the right to treat them how he wants...he made them! But did he really? Both Ava and Kyoko show signs of behavior that are far superior from what you think an AI can - should - do. They're too human, and they're only becoming more human that to differentiate between who is more human becomes difficult. I think of Alexa from Amazon, and although all three are technically AI, Ava and Kyoko seem a league beyond the Echo Dot. It's rather strange.

Also, Ex Machina explores our own society: what men think of women, the modern-day Panopticon, and how advanced technology can be the detriment to our own existence. Caleb is primarily attracted to Ava because of her gender and the connection it gives. Our protagonist is single and mother-less making him even more susceptible to Ava's (real? Fake?) charms. Caleb begins to have a relationship with Ava in his imagination, and it seems normal - it feels normal, and it's a bit hard to convince otherwise. Furthermore, Ex Machina is an example of a modern-day Panopticon. There are cameras everywhere in Nathan's home that allows Nathan to spy on Caleb and Ava, and Caleb on Ava. Ava is the only one getting the raw end of the deal since she is the only one who is being watched and the only one who cannot return the creepiness. And then you realize you're part of the Panopticon for you're watching all three of them. It's another onion within an onion, and it's brilliantly peeled by Director Garland. It's a movie that allows you to root for the bad guy because although she did take advantage of her experiment and creator, at the end of the day, she's just smart. 

*originally watched 3/10/17

#academy award #alicia vikander #ex machina #future #oscar #reality #science fiction #society #technology

[ablogthatsathing-blog]

Surprise, I’m transgender! While this may be a shock to some, to others this might have been expected. I owe everyone reading this an explanation, and that will be conveyed through this long-ass story. I am sorry that this took so long to say, and I hope that regardless of how you may know me, that this does not change anything. (sorry I curse a lot in this… I wanted to stay as true to myself and this is most alike to how I talk and how I would say it. A lot of this is un-edited raw thought so with that said, have at it) Before we dive into the story, I would like to preface this by saying that I never wanted to be trans. I would also like to reinforce the fact that being transgender sucks and I almost wish that this was a choice, because I would love to wake up one day and just decide not to be trans. That day isn’t going to happen though, and I can personally vouge for the “it’s not a choice” argument. Trust me, being transgender has stopped me from doing quite a few things. If I could magically switch to being cisgender so I could live a normal life, I would. So, without further or due, here’s my story, in a terrible chronological order almost as bad as that in the movie, Citizen Kane. Let’s start from when I actually found out I was transgender. Any doctor’s favorite question is, “How did you know you were trans?”. The “transgender” term came to me by accident, as I was being the introvert I still kind of am, watching YouTube videos up in my room at my grandma’s house. I was 12 at the time, and while scrolling through the “recommended” section, a video titled something along the lines of, “How I knew I was transgender” popped up. By clicking on that video, I unknowingly opened up my Pandora’s box of shit. Listening to this trans man talk about his experience, as well as with his struggles with gender dysphoria as a teenager felt something freakishly close to what I was feeling about my own body at the time. The term “transgender” though, was just something too big for me. Having already dealt with Lyme disease the year prior to that, I really didn’t want any more problems in my life… so I pretended like I never even heard the word, or related to that dysphoria that the man talked about, and went on living my life suppressing every ounce of pain I felt. I figured I would only deal with it when I had to. Girls were getting boobs and hourglass bodies, and guys were getting squared jaws and broad shoulders, as well as facial hair. When it was my turn to step up to the puberty plate, I tried to do everything I could to mask the changes that were happening to me. Which is quite strange, because at the time I was also denying any possibility of being transgender. Periods were a nightmare (and still are), causing deep depression that was a mix between dysphoria and self-rejection, as well as many crying episodes. Luckily small boobs run in the family, and I was able to get through middle school and into high school wearing double sports bras to hide those “almost A’s”. To deal with the hair situation, I cut that shit short at the end of 8th grade, and braced myself for the reputation that it would bring me… *Cough* *Cough* Lesbian. All of the things that I was doing to hide my gender and my body really didn’t throw many people off. That’s not to say that they didn’t think it was weird, but it wasn’t unlike me to dress “construction casual” like the other boys. I was always the tomboy, often seen rocking some lacrosse shorts and some sort of athletic T-shirt all throughout elementary school. My best friend and I also only played with the boys during recess. That was until I was too much of a weirdo (was it the pony tail mixed with the basketball shoes and all male wardrobe?). I was ousted from that crowd and bullied pretty heavily. Even though it was terrible at the time, Im grateful for the experience, as it really did build character as well as a little confidence when I finally was on the other side of it. Anyways, flash forward to about 8th grade during the Emo ultra butch phase…At that point people kind of expected things like short hair and guys clothing from me. They just figured I was some uber lesbian that was finding myself. Little did they know that yes, while I did like girls, I didn’t like the fact that I was technically a girl, but in all fairness I wasn’t consciously aware of it at the time either. I think I did have an idea, because the term transgender lingered on my shoulder ever since I watched the video. I tried so hard to forget about it, but while on the inside I was working hard to convince myself I wanted to be a girl, on the outside I was already beginning my transition process. Remember that whole “Ill deal with it when I have to” plan? Yeah, well that “time to deal with it” bell rang right before my 15th birthday. It was right about that time when I slipped into a constant state of terrible depression. For the most part I should have been happy at the time, as I had a girlfriend who supported me in everything I did, and never batted an eye or questioned any of my “gender hiding” habits. While we did not end up working out, I am forever grateful to her for being the first person I was able to come out to, as well as for always accepting me for who I was, not as the gender I identified by, or the clothing choices I made. Anyways… September/ early October of 2015 was when it occurred to me that it was time to either deal with the situation at hand, or to commit suicide. I hated every part of myself… I didn’t fit in right on either side of the gender spectrum, and I had to accept the hard fact that I was transgender and that there was no changing it. For my 15th birthday, I bought some of my friends presents instead of accepting anything, as I figured I wouldn’t make it to my 16th birthday and I wanted to show my love and appreciation for them. So, in between that October to March of 2016, my depression was getting so bad that even the slightest things would result in the thought of “I guess I’ll just die… that’ll make things better”. My depression was playing a nasty game of Cuban missile crisis with my mind. Brinksmanship was the only thing that brought me to actually say the words “I am not comfortable in my own body, I am transgender.” It was either that or Depression was going to launch its nukes. I thought I opened Pandora’s box when I watched that YouTube video when I was 13, but boy was I a fool for not realizing that Pandora seems to have an unlimited number of shit filled boxes. See, the issue with telling your parents your trans is like, “Wow! I feel so relieved that the thing that almost caused me to kill myself is finally off my chest… oh wait, now I actually have to really deal with it.” The best metaphor I can think of to describe the situation is that it’s like peeling an onion. Each layer, while gradually getting closer and closer to the core, makes you cry and stinks up your kitchen. If only being transgender came with a pair of onion goggles that would keep the tears away. Unfortunately, the elves didn’t stop by to drop off my pair the night that I came out to my mom. Instead, I woke up many days to, “now what” conversations, and a lot, and I mean a lot, more crying. Here’s another thing that the Fairy (no pun intended) god mother doesn’t tell you about being trans. As far as I can tell from the experience I have, it actually gets way harder when you actively begin to transition, up until you’re on hormones for a couple months! If being trans was a plot structure graph, English teachers would have one hell of a time trying to explain all the rising actions, climaxes, and falling actions to their students. You know when you’re on a school break or summer vacation and your parents still have to go to work, so you stumble out of bed at like 10:30 only to find a giant list of chores you have to complete before your allowed to go out? I experienced something similar to that after I came out to my parents, except instead of the list being signed “XOXO -Mom” mine had something like, “Have fun bitch! -Your Superego”. The mental list that I had come up with for myself looked something like this: · Come out to close friends · Come out to my sister, my cousins, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents. · Come out to the school administration · Come out to school · See a psychologist that can get me a testosterone letter · See an endocrinologist to get testosterone · Get both parents on board with testosterone I wanted to come out to my close friends first for two reasons… One was that my girlfriend already knew, so what would the difference be if the friend-group we were both in knew as well? Two was that I wanted to practice actually saying the words, “I am transgender” to my friends before I started playing tranny hot potato with my family. Telling my family kind of stood in the way of telling the school administration, as well as my classmates, because my sister, along with two of my cousins and I, all went to the same school together. “Hey Katie, I just heard someone say Kieran’s a boy now?” Needless to say, that would be a little awkward. The list got totally re-made many times, and as the list continues to increase in size, I’m sure it will also continue to change its order of priorities. The ever-changing list is like a fucking hydra… cut off one problem and two more shall appear. Over the course of a year I came out to many of my close friends, along with other acquaintances. Originally, this was a feat that seemed insurmountable, but with each conversation came more and more confidence. While I had yet to fully accept, and love myself, coming out to my friends allowed me to get in touch with a lot of feelings I was pushing away. Many of them wanted to hear my story, and wanted to understand what it was that caused me to feel this way. I began to recall all the situations that raised many gender crisis flags, some of which I had never felt comfortable to talk about until then. I told them my communion story… The one where I was so upset about having to wear a dress, that I ran off the church lawn after a couple pictures, and stripped out of my dress in the parking lot. It didn’t even phase me that I was completely nude in front of most of the town, I was just focused on getting that dress off. There are many stories very similar to the communion nightmare, and if you look back into family photo albums, you rarely find me wearing dresses or girly clothing. When I was 7 my second cousin was getting married in Washington D.C. and my entire family drove down for the wedding. In all the pictures, we have from the wedding, I can be seen wearing a pony-tail, blue polo shirt, a pair of khaki Capri’s and some super sexy blue crocks. I was that cousin… and no it was not because of the crocs. Sorry to jump out of chronological order here, but let’s jump to June of 2016, when it had been 3 months since I had told my parents and a couple of friends that I was transgender. I started seeing a new therapist in hopes of getting a letter for testosterone. Depending on where you live, or which doctor you see, the process for getting testosterone usually goes along the lines of seeing a therapist for x amount of time, seeing an endocrinologist, and then getting your testosterone recommendation letters and giving them to the endocrinologist who will, fingers crossed, write you a prescription for those goodie- good hormones. That’s the over simplified order because, let me tell you, that is never how easy it is going to be. So, I start seeing this new therapist, right? I’ll just make it clear that I personally hate therapy. That’s not to say that I have anything against the people who find therapists or therapy helpful, it’s just that the whole system doesn’t really work for me. As a passionate overthinker, as well as a person who has spent the last 6 years seeing therapists, I love to also psycho-analyze the shit out of myself. It’s such an awful habit, because I end up making myself more depressed than I was and then I’m stuck feeling like shit for the rest of the day. Going to therapy for me just sucks because when the therapist asks, “So maybe it’s the fact that you have X going on, its causing a lot of sad feelings?” and it’s like “Um no actually X was a small problem that made me feel let down as well as furthered my trust issues with people. Problem Y and Z are the things that are causing me to feel sad but there’s nothing I can do to change them so here’s a shit ton of my parent’s money, let’s sit here for another 45 minutes and bullshit the rest of this session.” It’s kind of sad when you get to the point that your therapist sucks so much, you have to psycho- analyze them to try and figure out what led them to their psychology major, and love of leather recliners and notepads. My favorite type of therapists are the therapists that haven’t spent any time in the chair themselves. They’re your stereotypical “so how does that make you feel?” therapists, the ones that always have their pen going. They stand out like a sore thumb to anyone that has seen their deal of therapists, as they struggle to remember small facts, and the DSMR is their only solution to your problems. Their psych evals start off with “ummmm… would you consider yourself to be a worrier?” and when they ask, “do you have any questions for me” they’re really saying, “please don’t ask me anything I have exactly 26.2 seconds until this appointment is over and I do not have the time nor the experience to answer anything, don’t let the door hit you on the way out kiddo.” Usually the only question I have for inexperienced therapists like this is, “where the fuck did you get you psychology degree?”. The 10 weeks of summer was a rushed mess between crippling depression and therapy appointments, and it was late August when my parents finally agreed it was time to go see an endocrinologist. Long story short, it is now February 23rd, and tomorrow I see a doctor that will most likely be writing my prescription for hormones (which according to predictions, should start in March). It has been an incredibly long journey, full of plenty of tears and new understandings. I know it will continue to be a long and tough road, but there is no way to properly express how grateful I am to be at this point. So now that you’ve heard my story, I’m going to switch gears to part 2 of this mini project. “Why?” Is a question I ask myself often. “Why am I transgender?” “Why am I like this?” “Why couldn’t I have been born normally” “Why can’t I just stop being trans?” “Why do I have to live my life like this”. To many cisgender people, being transgender seems like a conscious decision made by those who identify as a gender separate from that of the one they were given at birth. As a transgender person currently seeking medical treatment to help me cope with the life I am forced to live, I can assure you that this is not something people chose. It is not fun. It is not cool. It’s not exciting getting to live with a foot in both worlds. Do you have any idea how fucked up my ribs are from years of wearing sports bras and duct tape or ace bandages that were too tight? Try running in two, way-too-tight sports bras and tell me how you feel after about a mile. Those bruises that I’ve had since 8th grade? That sit right along my bra line? They don’t seem to be going away any time soon. My back hurts all the time from the binder I have to wear. When I forget to air dry it in time for school the next day, and I’m forced to wear the double sports bras again, I can’t get a full breath without being in terrible pain until 2:55 when I finally get home. Bathrooms are so much fun! There’s nothing being out with a friend and having to travel all around town to find a place with a single bathroom instead of having to deal with your traditional men’s and women’s rooms. Sure, I look enough like a guy to use the men’s room, but what happens when you see one of your schoolmates or maybe a family friend that knows you as female? Using the bathroom in school is super lit too. I usually have two options, one is to go during second period when nobody is down in the bathroom by the field entrance (oh and then not go to the bathroom for the rest of the day), or two is to go to the nurses and awkwardly ask to use their bathroom. While I have made an extreme effort to become close with the nurses, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s pretty weird to go there to use the bathroom. To avoid bathrooms overall, I usually just don’t drink anything starting from 9pm at night, until 3pm during the next day. That usually never works out though. I take medication for ADHD that makes me extremely thirsty and dries the fuck out of my throat, so what ends up happening is I’ll go to bed at around 8 on a dose of Nyquil (or else I’m never able to sleep), and then proceed to wake up every hour usually around the exact same time, drink a crap ton of water, and then go back to bed. That’s usually fine if it’s a weekend, because I won’t go out until later in the day, but on schooldays this is terrible because it means that I’ll have to use the bathroom all day but I can’t. Another great thing about being trans? Trying to look as masculine as possible, following the “whatever it takes!” notion. Nothing like picking up some awesome eating disorders. Last year, anorexia/ binge eating, lead to orthorexia, and then finally led to a forever fucked up view of food. Oh, and you know what eating disorders do to an already fucked up stomach like mine? Fuck it up even more, so kiss and Dairy/ Grains goodbye. I hate eating outside of my house because I’m still scared of calories, and when I eat at home I have to eat worrying about every single thing I put in my mouth. If I get fat, I won’t look as masculine. If I get too skinny, the doctors won’t give me hormones because they’ll know I have an eating disorder. If only they understood that the eating disorders were caused by being trans, and hormones would rid of my eating problems because I would look masculine without having to starve myself (oh or work out every day and ruin plans because I need to go to the gym or else I feel like I can’t see my friends because I look too feminine) Of course clothes help, but they usually don’t look right on my disproportionate body. I also don’t gain muscle half as fast as regular ol cis guys do, so even when I bust my ass in the gym every day (looking like a scrawny fool to all the other guys there) I don’t see like any results which throw me into a terrible depression because what’s the point of going to the gym then? Oh, that’s right… if I don’t go to the gym, I won’t look like a guy, and I can’t eat then because I’ll look to feminine. Ruining things is also a really fun hobby! Whether it be relationships, friendships, ties with relatives, social outings, or maybe even just a car ride or just sitting around in your living room, you can always count on being trans to ruin shit. Who knows how your crush will take it when they find out your trans? Disgusted? Maybe, “That’s a shame, I would have dated you if you were cis”? It’s always a gamble, you can never tell how people will react. Close friends usually take it well, sometimes they just want to understand the whole thing. That’s totally okay with me, as it is my job to help people understand what being trans is, and it also helps me understand and come to terms with myself. Family is super tough. They’re the ones that mean the most to you, and even if you’re out to them, there’s always potential to ruin shit. You really can’t beat ruining dinner with your mom, like how I did the other night. We hadn’t had the chance to sit down and talk in a while, and after 15 minutes of me talking about trans stuff (cause you know the question “how are you” automatically segways into the trans shit) she slams her fists down on the table, starts crying, and says “please can we just talk about something happy in your life?” and then you start crying because you just ruined dinner and oh yeah, there’s nothing happy about living a life where you constantly want to kill yourself, because of how much you hate yourself. So, even when you dry your eyes and ask “how’s work going?” and your mom puts down her food and says she’s not hungry anymore, you realize not only did you just kill the dinner vibes, but you literally ruined dinner. My sister really loves to deal with trans stuff too! The second I try and correct her on pronouns, she rolls her eyes. That usually starts a fight. Monday night, it ended with me fighting back tears, saying “You know sometimes when you hate yourself so much, one of the few things that keeps you going is a pronoun.” She rolled her eyes again and laughed, and I started sobbing. If anyone wonders why my sister and I have a bad relationship, that’s why. I can’t imagine how hard it is for my immediate family. I wish I didn’t have to put anyone through this. I wish I could change so they didn’t have to deal with my mess, and so many tears didn’t have to be shed. I wish I was never trans. I wish I didn’t have to bind in order to feel a little bit better about myself. I wish I didn’t have to plan out every single thing about my day in school, like using the bathroom and avoiding locker rooms. I wish I actually could envision myself going to college, or living to see my next birthday. I wish my first reaction to things wasn’t “I’ll kill myself then I won’t have to deal with it”. I wish I could run cross country or track again. I wish I could use the bathroom without having to worry about seeing someone, or being afraid of being questioned or worse. I wish I didn’t worry about the pitch of my voice when talking to strangers. I wish I fit in with guys. I wish I didn’t ruin things. I wish I could drink water. I wish I didn’t have problems with food. I wish I could not worry about talking to girls because of the fact that I’m trans. I wish I didn’t have to work out in order to be able to leave the house. I wish I could be okay with myself. Now that you’ve gotten through all the shitty stuff, here’s some positivity. I know I say plenty of times that I hate myself, and that I think about suicide as an option for everything. Rest assured, while yes, some days are worse than others in regards to depression and suicidal thoughts, I still have hope. There are so many amazing things in this world and I acknowledge that killing myself, won’t allow me to see. I love making films and writing. I love making other people laugh, and laughing at my own jokes. I love to make people happy. Personally speaking, one of the greatest things about being in a relationship is waking up every day and thinking, “how can I make this person’s day awesome?”. I love seeing my friends succeed (and helping them out when they mess up). I love to meet people. I love talking to people, even strangers. I love hearing other people’s stories, and learning about people. I love hearing why your favorite animal is a flamingo, and I want to know the story behind what made you hate striped shirts. I love music, both making it and listening to it. I love to learn (although I hate learning in a classroom setting). I love to read books, read opinions, read the news, read different perspectives, read about religions, read about philosophies on life and our existence. I love bike riding, skateboarding, and running. I love exploring, and the trouble that it sometimes gets me into. I love adventure, as well as change. Even though I love adventure, I also love staying home and watching movies. I love hugs. I love to chill and watch Netflix. I love to sleep and I also love waking up early to work out. I love to suck at piano and guitar. I love to dance terribly. I love animals. I love being upstate and out in nature. I love San Francisco (but I hate planes so idk when ill visit again). I love (and really miss) good food. I love to bake. I love to cook. I love photography. I love my friends, I love my teammates and I love my family. I love so many things, I couldn’t possibly trade my life for all of the above. Look at the things I wish were different and compare them to the list of things that I love. The love list far outweighs the wish list. Seeing black or whatever the hell happens after you die, can never compare to the opportunities I have been given. My family and I might have our struggles, but whose family doesn’t. I’ve been gifted with a great education, an ADHD brain that allows for extremely creativity, a great family, amazing friends, and a world is filled with so many stories that need to be told, so many ideas that need to be here, and so many opportunities that are ready to be taken. To all of you who have made it through this entire thing, I want to say thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I genuinely appreciate the fact that you took the time to read this. I would really like to express that I do not want any sympathy from this, and that the whole point of writing this was to help people gain some perspective and understanding, as well as to come out to those that didn’t know I was trans. Just because we all may experience different struggles in life, it’s impossible to say that we all don’t have a list of things we love. Regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, social class, or disability, there will always be room for love. Once again, thank you for reading this, it really means a lot to me.

[illthinkofausernamelater12-blog]

Surprise, I’m transgender! While this may be a shock to some, to others this might have been expected. I owe everyone reading this an explanation, and that will be conveyed through this long-ass story. I am sorry that this took so long to say, and I hope that regardless of how you may know me, that this does not change anything. (sorry I curse a lot in this… I wanted to stay as true to myself and this is most alike to how I talk and how I would say it. A lot of this is un-edited raw thought so with that said, have at it)

Before we dive into the story, I would like to preface this by saying that I never wanted to be trans. I would also like to reinforce the fact that being transgender sucks and I almost wish that this was a choice, because I would love to wake up one day and just decide not to be trans. That day isn’t going to happen though, and I can personally vouge for the “it’s not a choice” argument. Trust me, being transgender has stopped me from doing quite a few things. If I could magically switch to being cisgender so I could live a normal life, I would. So, without further or due, here’s my story, in terrible chronological order that is almost as bad as that in the movie, Citizen Kane.

Let’s start from when I actually found out I was transgender. Any doctor’s favorite question is, “How did you know you were trans?”. The “transgender” term came to me by accident, as I was being the introvert I still kind of am, watching YouTube videos up in my room at my grandma’s house. I was 12 at the time, and while scrolling through the “recommended” section, a video titled something along the lines of, “How I knew I was transgender” popped up. By clicking on that video, I unknowingly opened up my Pandora’s box of shit. Listening to this trans man talk about his experience, as well as with his struggles with gender dysphoria as a teenager felt something freakishly close to what I was feeling about my own body at the time. The term “transgender” though, was just something too big for me. Having already dealt with Lyme disease the year prior to that, I really didn’t want any more problems in my life… so I pretended like I never even heard the word, or related to that dysphoria that the man talked about, and went on living my life suppressing every ounce of pain I felt. I figured I would only deal with it when I had to. Girls were getting boobs and hourglass bodies, and guys were getting squared jaws and broad shoulders, as well as facial hair. When it was my turn to step up to the puberty plate, I tried to do everything I could to mask the changes that were happening to me. Which is quite strange, because at the time I was also denying any possibility of being transgender. Periods were a nightmare (and still are), causing deep depression that was a mix between dysphoria and self-rejection, as well as many crying episodes. Luckily small boobs run in the family, and I was able to get through middle school and into high school wearing double sports bras to hide those “almost A’s”. To deal with the hair situation, I cut that shit short at the end of 8th grade, and braced myself for the reputation that it would bring me… *Cough* *Cough* Lesbian.

All of the things that I was doing to hide my gender and my body really didn’t throw many people off. That’s not to say that they didn’t think it was weird, but it wasn’t unlike me to dress “construction casual” like the other boys. I was always the tomboy, often seen rocking some lacrosse shorts and some sort of athletic T-shirt all throughout elementary school. My best friend and I also only played with the boys during recess. That was until I was too much of a weirdo (was it the pony tail mixed with the basketball shoes and all male wardrobe?). I was ousted from that crowd and bullied pretty heavily. Even though it was terrible at the time, Im grateful for the experience, as it really did build character as well as a little confidence when I finally was on the other side of it. Anyways, flash forward to about 8th grade during the Emo ultra butch phase…At that point people kind of expected things like short hair and guys clothing from me. They just figured I was some uber lesbian that was finding myself. Little did they know that yes, while I did like girls, I didn’t like the fact that I was technically a girl, but in all fairness I wasn’t consciously aware of it either at the time. I think I did have an idea, because the term transgender lingered on my shoulder ever since I watched the video. I tried so hard to forget about it, but while on the inside I was working hard to convince myself I wanted to be a girl, on the outside I was already beginning my transition process.

Remember that whole “Ill deal with it when I have to” plan? Yeah, well that “time to deal with it” bell rang right before my 15th birthday. It was right about that time when I slipped into a constant state of terrible depression. For the most part I should have been happy at the time, as I had a girlfriend who supported me in everything I did, and never batted an eye or questioned any of my “gender hiding” habits. While we did not end up working out, I am forever grateful to her for being the first person I was able to come out to, as well as for always accepting me for who I was, not as the gender I identified by, or the clothing choices I made. Anyways… September/ early October of 2015 was when it occurred to me that it was time to either deal with the situation at hand, or to commit suicide. I hated every part of myself… I didn’t fit in right on either side of the gender spectrum, and I had to accept the hard fact that I was transgender and that there was no changing it. For my 15th birthday, I bought some of my friends presents instead of accepting anything, as I figured I wouldn’t make it to my 16th birthday and I wanted to show my love and appreciation for them. So, in between that October to March of 2016, my depression was getting so bad that even the slightest things would result in the thought of “I guess I’ll just die… that’ll make things better”. My depression was playing a nasty game of Cuban missile crisis with my mind. Brinksmanship was the only thing that brought me to actually say the words “I am not comfortable in my own body, I am transgender.” It was either that or Depression was going to launch its nukes.

I thought I opened Pandora’s box when I watched that YouTube video when I was 13, but boy was I a fool for not realizing that Pandora seems to have an unlimited number of shit filled boxes. See, the issue with telling your parents your trans is like, “Wow! I feel so relieved that the thing that almost caused me to kill myself is finally off my chest… oh wait, now I actually have to really deal with it.” The best metaphor I can think of to describe the situation is that it’s like peeling an onion. Each layer, while gradually getting closer and closer to the core, makes you cry and stinks up your kitchen. If only being transgender came with a pair of onion goggles that would keep the tears away. Unfortunately, the elves didn’t stop by to drop off my pair the night that I came out to my mom. Instead, I woke up many days to, “now what” conversations, and a lot, and I mean a lot, more crying. Here’s another thing that the Fairy (no pun intended) god mother doesn’t tell you about being trans. As far as I can tell from the experience I had, it actually gets way harder when you actively begin to transition, up until you’re on hormones for a couple months! If being trans was a plot structure graph, English teachers would have one hell of a time trying to explain all the rising actions, climaxes, and falling actions to their students.

You know when you’re on a school break or summer vacation and your parents still have to go to work, so you stumble out of bed at like 10:30 only to find a giant list of chores you have to complete before your allowed to go out? I experienced something similar to that after I came out to my parents, except instead of the list being signed “XOXO -Mom” mine had something like, “Have fun bitch! -Your Superego”. The mental list that I had come up with for myself looked something like this:

·       Come out to close friends

·       Come out to my sister, my cousins, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents.

·       Come out to the school administration

·       Come out to school

·       See a psychologist that can get me a testosterone letter

·       See an endocrinologist to get testosterone

·       Get both parents on board with testosterone

I wanted to come out to my close friends first for two reasons… One was that my girlfriend already knew, so what would the difference be if the friend-group we were both in knew as well? Two was that I wanted to practice actually saying the words, “I am transgender” to my friends before I started playing tranny hot potato with my family. Telling my family kind of stood in the way of telling the school administration, as well as my classmates, because my sister, along with two of my cousins and I, all went to the same school together. “Hey Katie, I just heard someone say Kieran’s a boy now?” Needless to say, that would be a little awkward.

The list got totally re-made many times, and as the list continues to increase in size, I’m sure it will also continue to change its order of priorities. The ever-changing list is like a fucking hydra… cut off one problem and two more shall appear.  

Over the course of a year I came out to many of my close friends, along with other acquaintances. Originally, this was a feat that seemed insurmountable, but with each conversation came more and more confidence. While I had yet to fully accept, and love myself, coming out to my friends allowed me to get in touch with a lot of feelings I was pushing away. Many of them wanted to hear my story, and wanted to understand what it was that caused me to feel this way. I began to recall all the situations that raised many gender crisis flags, some of which I had never felt comfortable to talk about until then. I told them my communion story… The one where I was so upset about having to wear a dress, that I ran off the church lawn after a couple pictures, and stripped out of my dress in the parking lot. It didn’t even phase me that I was completely nude in front of most of the town, I was just focused on getting that dress off. There are many stories very similar to the communion nightmare, and if you look back into family photo albums, you rarely find me wearing dresses or girly clothing. When I was 7 my second cousin was getting married in Washington D.C. and my entire family drove down for the wedding. In all the pictures we have from the wedding, I can be seen wearing a pony-tail, blue polo shirt, a pair of khaki Capri’s and some super sexy blue crocks.  I was that cousin… and no it was not because of the crocs.

Sorry to jump out of chronological order here, but let’s jump to June of 2016, when it had been 3 months since I had told my parents and a couple of friends that I was transgender. I started seeing a new therapist in hopes of getting a letter for testosterone. Depending on where you live, or which doctor you see, the process for getting testosterone usually goes along the lines of seeing a therapist for x amount of time, seeing an endocrinologist, and then getting your testosterone recommendation letters and giving them to the endocrinologist who will, fingers crossed, write you a prescription for those goodie- good hormones. That’s the over simplified order because, let me tell you, that is never how easy it is going to be. So, I start seeing this new therapist, right? I’ll just make it clear that I personally hate therapy. That’s not to say that I have anything against the people who find therapists or therapy helpful, it’s just that the whole system doesn’t really work for me. As a passionate overthinker, as well as a person who has spent the last 6 years seeing therapists, I love to also psycho-analyze the shit out of myself. It’s such an awful habit, because I end up making myself more depressed than I was and then I’m stuck feeling like shit for the rest of the day. Going to therapy for me just sucks because when the therapist asks, “So maybe it’s the fact that you have X going on, its causing a lot of sad feelings?” and it’s like “Um no actually X was a small problem that made me feel let down as well as furthered my trust issues with people. Problem Y and Z are the things that are causing me to feel sad but there’s nothing I can do to change them so here’s a shit ton of my parent’s money, let’s sit here for another 45 minutes and bullshit the rest of this session.” It’s kind of sad when you get to the point that your therapist sucks so much, you have to psycho- analyze them to try and figure out what led them to their psychology major, and love of leather recliners and notepads. My favorite type of therapists are the therapists that haven’t spent any time in the chair themselves. They’re your stereotypical “so how does that make you feel?” therapists, the ones that always have their pen going. They stand out like a sore thumb to anyone that has seen their deal of therapists, as they struggle to remember small facts, and the DSMR is their only solution to your problems. Their psych evals start off with “ummmm… would you consider yourself to be a worrier?” and when they ask, “do you have any questions for me” they’re really saying, “please don’t ask me anything I have exactly 26.2 seconds until this appointment is over and I do not have the time nor the experience to answer anything, don’t let the door hit you on the way out kiddo.” Usually the only question I have for inexperienced therapists like this is, “where the fuck did you get you psychology degree?”. The 10 weeks of summer were a rushed mess between crippling depression and therapy appointments, and it was late August when my parents finally agreed it was time to go see an endocrinologist.

Long story short, it is now February 23rd, and tomorrow I see a doctor that will most likely be writing my prescription for hormones (which according to predictions, should start in March). It has been an incredibly long journey, full of plenty of tears and new understandings. I know it will continue to be a long and tough road, but there is no way to properly express how grateful I am to be at this point.

So now that you’ve heard my story, I’m going to switch gears to part 2 of this mini project.

“Why?” Is a question I ask myself often. “Why am I transgender?” “Why am I like this?” “Why couldn’t I have been born normally” “Why can’t I just stop being trans?” “Why do I have to live my life like this”. To many cisgender people, being transgender seems like a conscious decision made by those who identify as a gender separate from that of the one they were given at birth. As a transgender person currently seeking medical treatment to help me cope with the life I am forced to live, I can assure you that this is not something people chose. It is not fun. It is not cool. It’s not exciting getting to live with a foot in both worlds.

Do you have any idea how fucked up my ribs are from years of wearing sports bras and duct tape or ace bandages that were too tight? Try running in two, way-too-tight sports bras and tell me how you feel after about a mile. Those bruises that I’ve had since 8th grade? That sit right along my bra line? They don’t seem to be going away any time soon. My back hurts all the time from the binder I have to wear. When I forget to air dry it in time for school the next day, and I’m forced to wear the double sports bras again, I can’t get a full breath without being in terrible pain until 2:55 when I finally get home.

Bathrooms are so much fun! There’s nothing being out with a friend and having to travel all around town to find a place with a single bathroom instead of having to deal with your traditional men’s and women’s rooms. Sure, I look enough like a guy to use the men’s room, but what happens when you see one of your schoolmates or maybe a family friend that knows you as female? Using the bathroom in school is super lit too. I usually have two options, one is to go during second period when nobody is down in the bathroom by the field entrance (oh and then not go to the bathroom for the rest of the day), or two is to go to the nurses and awkwardly ask to use their bathroom. While I have made an extreme effort to become close with the nurses, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s pretty weird to go there to use the bathroom. To avoid bathrooms overall, I usually just don’t drink anything starting from 9pm at night, until 3pm during the next day. That usually never works out though. I take medication for ADHD that makes me extremely thirsty and dries the fuck out of my throat, so what ends up happening is I’ll go to bed at around 8 on a dose of Nyquil (or else I’m never able to sleep), and then proceed to wake up every hour usually around the exact same time, drink a crap ton of water, and then go back to bed. That’s usually fine if it’s a weekend, because I won’t go out until later in the day, but on schooldays this is terrible because it means that I’ll have to use the bathroom all day but I can’t.

Another great thing about being trans? Trying to look as masculine as possible, following the “whatever it takes!” notion. Nothing like picking up some awesome eating disorders. Last year, anorexia/ binge eating, lead to orthorexia, and then finally led to a forever fucked up view of food. Oh, and you know what eating disorders do to an already fucked up stomach like mine? Fuck it up even more, so kiss and Dairy/ Grains goodbye. I hate eating outside of my house because I’m still scared of calories, and when I eat at home I have to eat worrying about every single thing I put in my mouth. If I get fat, I won’t look as masculine. If I get too skinny, the doctors won’t give me hormones because they’ll know I have an eating disorder. If only they understood that the eating disorders were caused by being trans, and hormones would rid of my eating problems because I would look masculine without having to starve myself (oh or work out every day and ruin plans because I need to go to the gym or else I feel like I can’t see my friends because I look too feminine) Of course clothes help, but they usually don’t look right on my disproportionate body. I also don’t gain muscle half as fast as regular ol cis guys do, so even when I bust my ass in the gym every day (looking like a scrawny fool to all the other guys there) I don’t see like any results which throw me into a terrible depression because what’s the point of going to the gym then? Oh, that’s right… if I don’t go to the gym, I won’t look like a guy, and I can’t eat then because I’ll look to feminine.

Ruining things is also a really fun hobby! Whether it be relationships, friendships, ties with relatives, social outings, or maybe even just a car ride or just sitting around in your living room, you can always count on being trans to ruin shit. Who knows how your crush will take it when they find out your trans? Disgusted? Maybe, “That’s a shame, I would have dated you if you were cis”? It’s always a gamble, you can never tell how people will react. Close friends usually take it well, sometimes they just want to understand the whole thing. That’s totally okay with me, as it is my job to help people understand what being trans is, and it also helps me understand and come to terms with myself. Family is super tough. They’re the ones that mean the most to you, and even if you’re out to them, there’s always potential to ruin shit.  You really can’t beat ruining dinner with your mom, like how I did the other night. We hadn’t had the chance to sit down and talk in a while, and after 15 minutes of me talking about trans stuff (cause you know the question “how are you” automatically segways into the trans shit) she slams her fists down on the table, starts crying, and says “please can we just talk about something happy in your life?” and then you start crying because you just ruined dinner and oh yeah, there’s nothing happy about living a life where you constantly want to kill yourself, because of how much you hate yourself. So, even when you dry your eyes and ask “how’s work going?” and your mom puts down her food and says she’s not hungry anymore, you realize not only did you just kill the dinner vibes, but you literally ruined dinner. My sister really loves to deal with trans stuff too! The second I try and correct her on pronouns, she rolls her eyes. That usually starts a fight. Monday night, it ended with me fighting back tears, saying “You know sometimes when you hate yourself so much, one of the few things that keeps you going is a pronoun.” She rolled her eyes again and laughed, and I started sobbing. If anyone wonders why my sister and I have a bad relationship, that’s why. I can’t imagine how hard it is for my immediate family. I wish I didn’t have to put anyone through this. I wish I could change so they didn’t have to deal with my mess, and so many tears didn’t have to be shed.

I wish I was never trans. I wish I didn’t have to bind in order to feel a little bit better about myself. I wish I didn’t have to plan out every single thing about my day in school, like using the bathroom and avoiding locker rooms. I wish I actually could envision myself going to college, or living to see my next birthday. I wish my first reaction to things wasn’t “I’ll kill myself then I won’t have to deal with it”. I wish I could run cross country or track again. I wish I could use the bathroom without having to worry about seeing someone, or being afraid of being questioned or worse. I wish I didn’t worry about the pitch of my voice when talking to strangers. I wish I fit in with guys. I wish I didn’t ruin things. I wish I could drink water. I wish I didn’t have problems with food. I wish I could not worry about talking to girls because of the fact that I’m trans. I wish I didn’t have to work out in order to be able to leave the house. I wish I could be okay with myself.

Now that you’ve gotten through all the shitty stuff, here’s some positivity. I know I say plenty of times that I hate myself, and that I think about suicide as an option for everything. Rest assured, while yes, some days are worse than others in regards to depression and suicidal thoughts, I still have hope. There are so many amazing things in this world and I acknowledge that killing myself, won’t allow me to see. I love making films and writing. I love making other people laugh, and laughing at my own jokes. I love to make people happy. Personally speaking, one of the greatest things about being in a relationship is waking up every day and thinking, “how can I make this person’s day awesome?”. I love seeing my friends succeed (and helping them out when they mess up). I love to meet people. I love talking to people, even strangers. I love hearing other people’s stories, and learning about people. I love hearing why your favorite animal is a flamingo, and I want to know the story behind what made you hate striped shirts. I love music, both making it and listening to it. I love to learn (although I hate learning in a classroom setting). I love to read books, read opinions, read the news, read different perspectives, read about religions, read about philosophies on life and our existence. I love bike riding, skateboarding, and running. I love exploring, and the trouble that it sometimes gets me into. I love adventure, as well as change. Even though I love adventure, I also love staying home and watching movies. I love hugs. I love to chill and watch Netflix. I love to sleep and I also love waking up early to work out. I love to suck at piano and guitar. I love to dance terribly. I love animals. I love being upstate and out in nature. I love San Francisco (but I hate planes so idk when ill visit again). I love (and really miss) good food. I love to bake. I love to cook. I love photography. I love my friends, I love my teammates and I love my family. I love so many things, I couldn’t possibly trade my life for all of the above. Look at the things I wish were different and compare them to the list of things that I love. The love list far outweighs the wish list. Seeing black or whatever the hell happens after you die, can never compare to the opportunities I have been given. My family and I might have our struggles, but whose family doesn’t? I’ve been gifted with a great education, an ADHD brain that allows for extremely creativity, a great family, amazing friends, and a world is filled with so many stories that need to be told, so many ideas that need to be here, and so many opportunities that are ready to be taken.

To all of you who have made it through this entire thing, I want to say thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I genuinely appreciate the fact that you took the time to read this. I would really like to express that I do not want any sympathy from this, and that the whole point of writing this was to help people gain some perspective and understanding, as well as to come out to those that didn’t know I was trans. Just because we all may experience different struggles in life, it’s impossible to say that we all don’t have a list of things we love. Regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, social class, or disability, there will always be room for love. Once again, thank you for reading this, it really means a lot to me.