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danielxricciardo · 3 years

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Cheater III

Summary: You found out Max cheated on you part 3.

Warnings: angst and fluff by the end

Word count: 2.5k

Part 1 and Part 2

Cheating in a relationship is the saddest thing. It can kill the personality from the inside. Bring changes a lot mentally. These situations turn into you to be good or bad. Some may be helpful to be stronger.

It feels bad when our loved one cheated, cause we are well connected to our partners. We had a lot of plans for that person to spend a most valuable time of ours. When it isn't going to happen then it feels unsuccessful or bad. Expecting something from another person is common in humans. When it turns down we feel such pain, like stabbing with words, The words have the power to kill or to give life to the opponent's mind. The reason why people say 'think before you talk'.

True love doesn't involve multiple people... You knew that.

When you are in love with someone, you don't cheat and you're not talking about just finding others attractive. You just don't desire to be sexually intimate with other people when you are truly "in love" with one person. You're not talking about caring for someone or loving in general.

You're talking about the head over heels, you're soulmates, the stars have aligned and nobody else has what you have, a type of love that consumes your whole being and makes you want to give that person the world. And that includes giving them the greatest physical pleasure that they can possibly experience. Cheating takes that away from you and that is why it hurts.

The person you are in love with and desire, who you thought felt the same way is revealing to you that intimacy with you is meaningless when you thought it was special. They do not desire you in the same way that you desire them. They are not "in love" with you in the way that you thought. All of your love is in vain.

“Why do we feel bad, even horrible, when our partner cheats on us?"

A trust, expectation, a promise was broken. This type of violation hits you closer to the heart because you have let that person through all your external defenses. Because you fear the loneliness that you are going to face. Nobody wants to end alone. When you put in so much for your relationship, you want it to last. But when your partner cheats you think that you would end alone, gradually realize this happens and life doesn't end here and someone else is going to come into your life.

Why do guys cheat on girls?

Both men and women cheat. In some cases, the reasons are simple: humans are animals with sex drives. We are biologically programmed to "spread our seeds." We have other instincts, such as loyalty, honesty, and guilt feelings. Those drives duke it out with lust in our brains. Sometimes, lust wins. It's more complicated than that because we tend to associate sex with so many other things: youth, freedom, adventure, personal attractiveness, you name it.

You know people make all sorts of excuses like, “I wasn’t happy in my relationship” or “I didn’t know what I was doing” or “I don’t find my partner attractive anymore” or “someone convinced me to do it.” You’ve heard these. But it’s funny to you.

A cheater can never have any excuse. They do not deserve to have that say after cheating on someone.

If you weren’t happy in the relationship, then why didn’t you break up first and had sex with someone else? Why didn’t you say that you needed a break and then had sex? Also, how can someone even convince you to cheat on your partner? It’s nonsense.

Some people will even go as far as to say that the other person made them feel loved, so they got swayed away. If you are not feeling loved by your partner and someone else is doing that job, then aren’t you supposed to figure out your feelings first, maybe break up with your partner and then be with someone else? That’s common sense.

Nobody deserves to be cheated on. The blame is ALWAYS on the cheater. Nowadays people even try to justify cheaters. It’s insane. To you, all the answers to “why” are simply just excuses trying to justify their unacceptable behavior. You know, how they always say that a person who cheats once will cheat again.

Since you found out that Max cheated on you and until this moment, so many months have passed that you have the impression that you have started to heal. You were with a man who made you feel fulfilled, happy, and loved. There were days in a row when you didn't think about Max, but even when you thought, you had in mind only the beautiful moments. Like when, for your first date, he rented your entire favorite restaurant and he cooked for both of you, even though he didn't know how to cook more than just one egg. Or when you first visited him at a Grand Prix for the first time and he won and came to you and kissed you in front of all the cameras, telling everyone that you are his lucky talisman. Or, your favorite memory, when you were at his house after you met his family and heard him talking to his father about you. Sure, you didn't understand a word they said, but Victoria translated to you what was most important about that conversation: Max loves you so much and if he doesn't get to marry you, he'll never marry anyone else.

As dear as your last memory may be, it is also painful because it is like a slap in the face to the fact that there was a time in your life when you were in love and now you were no longer together.

When you told your family that you started seeing another man, more than 6 months after you and Max broke up, your mother asked you how you could get into a relationship so quickly. relationship.

To be honest, you weren't ready yet. You were damn scared but Stephen, your boyfriend now, went after you a lot and you decided that if you don't give him a chance now it will be many years before you think about going on a date with someone else. You knew it wasn't going to be a long relationship. You didn't have much in common with Stephen, but he was a good, sweet boy, and you needed someone who wouldn't make you hate all the men in the world.

"Look, I'm not saying you didn't go through something traumatic, but it's been almost a year since then and I think it's time to come and show everyone that you're not afraid of anyone or anything," says Anthony who called you on facetime one Sunday night after the race.

"But I'm afraid."

"Just shut up, no one needs to know. You just come here, you smile, you laugh, you act friendly with everyone and you're going to look like you're better of without him."

You sigh and get out of bed, and go to the kitchen to get a pill for your headache.

"But he will be there..."

"Okay, so? Who cares about him? I'll always be by your side, I promise he won't talk to you."

"Can I come with Stephen?"

"You know I can't stand him, Y/N. Take him with you to the next Grand Prix, I don't feel like seeing him now, okay?"

"I'll think about it."

You have decided, however, to go to the last Grand Prix of the season, in Abu Dhabi. No one but Anthony knew you were coming to the race.

You forgot what a busy atmosphere it was on Sunday. However, everyone who saw you came to you to talk a little and to tell you that you missed them. You smiled and answered that you missed them as well.

The road to Red Bull Racing was long and short at the same time.

"Do my eyes see well? Y/F/N Y/L/N!" says Christian Horner, who comes to you and hugs you.

You first see Sergio Perez who waves at you, happy to see you, then you see Max who comes from somewhere in the back. Had he just heard your name?

"Hey, guys! I'm so glad to see you again. I missed you all."

"And we missed you, Y/N!" Christian answers on behalf of all Red Bull Racing employees. "Welcome home."

You giggle.

"Thank you."

In less than 10 minutes since you got there, Anthony broke his promise. He promised not to leave you alone so that Max could not come and talk to you.

"Hey," Max says softly, coming behind you.

You shivered at his voice, a voice you've dreamed of every night since you broke up. You turn to him and analyze his facial features. He was the way you remembered him, maybe even more handsome.

You look left and right for Anthony but you can't see him.

"Hey." You answer Max and your heart starts beating much harder.

"I'm so glad to see you... I missed you."

The desire to take him in your arms and kiss him was so strong that you felt dizzy. You couldn't focus on anything, not even a few words to say.

"Do you think that we... We could see each other after the race to... Talk?" he asks, moving his weight from one foot to the other.

"Okay," you say and regret it the next second.

"How stupid am I for wanting to get back together with Max after he cheated on me?" you asked Anthony.

"First of all, you're not stupid for wanting to get back with your boyfriend. Relationships are the most real things anyone can experience. We're growing while we're together. As we grow, we also go through many different behaviors in life. Behavior does not make that person. Behaviors come and go as we grow into who we are. No one is perfect. You cannot name one person you know to be 100% perfect, right?" you shake your head and he continues. "We all grow organically, and the best thing about being in a relationship is that you get to watch each other grow. You get to experience the person you care about to develop. Relationships are like walking through a door that you don't know what's on the other side. But you go through the door without any fear, doubt, or unbelief. Relationships are the livest-realest- life experience. He is a man. A man can only love once or twice. Just because Max has sex with a woman, doesn't mean he loves her. He just wanted to get his rocks off for a moment. When it is all said and done, he loves you. It may sound strange but just think of all the men you knew. Think about all the relationships you knew about. Think those who have been together for years on out. So, no you're not stupid for wanting to embrace your boyfriend's "only temporary behavior". You're smart for wanting to have the courage to walk through the next door. You're smart for being optimistic and knowing that things will get better with time. You realize the importance of maintaining a companion."

You blink several times.

"Why do I feel like you've practiced this speech in front of the mirror several times?"

He laughs and runs his arm over your shoulder.

"Maybe because that's what I did?"

You laugh and you hug him.

"Thank you for being my friend. So you're saying I should give Max another chance?"

"You don't have to give him a chance if you don't want to. But listen to your heart. Don't just do it because I'm saying so because you might regret it and you'll blame me. If you want to give him another chance, just do it. He's not the kind of man to cheat. I don't know what was on his mind when he did it with Kelly. But something tells me he regrets what he did and he will never cheat again."

"Hey, can we talk now?"

"Sure. Congrats on the win!"

"Yeah, thanks."

You both went to his room to talk. You were scared and your palms were sweating. You didn't want to start the conversation because you had different scenarios in mind, all different, depending on what Max would tell you the first time. You swallowed hard when you entered his room. The last time you were there, you two broke up.

“I’m truly sorry for hurting you.” he started saying after he closed the door behind you. "I care for you more than anything. I’m deeply sorry for hurting you… Hurting you is the most painful thing I have ever done. With a bruised heart and a deflated ego, with a sad soul and a head hung low, I apologize to you. An apology is nothing to what I’ve done; but still, I know you have a forgiving and understanding heart and won’t let resentment destroy our love. I have shown you what an idiot I can be by making that mistake. Now it is your turn to show me what a darling you can be by giving your anger a break. Without you I feel lonely, I never want to lose you in my life. I am sorry and I’ll work hard on changing my behavior. I know that I caused you a lot of pain. Whatever happens, remember that I am the guy, who will always be there for you in good and bad times. I know you’re angry now, but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry for hurting you. I am ready to make amends. If I could, I would have wiped your memories about all the terrible things that I have caused you, but all I can do is to promise you that I’ll create only happy memories for you. I hope when you feel ready you can forgive me."

His words took you by surprise. You knew he would try to apologize, but in your mind, you weren't crying. You knew before you came to the room with him that you would forgive him.

"I forgive you. To be honest, I think I forgave you before we broke up but my ego was hurt and I couldn't forgive you so quickly. What you did was horrible and I hated you for so many months for making me feel so small and insignificant. But I love you. And I want to give ourselves another chance."

tag: hellolipoops, taina-eny

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen #f1 fanfiction #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #f1 2021 #f1 fandom #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one oneshot #formula one imagine #formula 1 oneshot #formula one #formula 1 #red bull racing

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yasminbenoit · 3 years

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Yasmin Benoit for Glamour Magazine: “People think I must be unlovable, fussy or mentally ill. Here's what it really means to be asexual and aromantic.”

Activist and model Yasmin Benoit dispels the myths around asexuality, 'the invisible orientation'.

The conversation around sexuality and the spectrum of gender identity has expanded greatly in recent years. We're finally beginning to explore all of the details, nuances and diversity of the topic, and acknowledging communities that have too long been shunned by society. But there's one community – my community – that has been left out of this step toward inclusivity.

I started to realise I was asexual around the time my peers around me realised they weren't. Puberty kicked in, hormones went flying, kids stopped wanting to just play together and started fancying each other instead. They became a lot more curious about their sexuality and wanted to express it.

But I just wasn't feeling it; I didn't get all the drama. In fact, I even switched to an all-girls' school because I thought, without boys, everyone would stop caring so much about sex and relationships, and would just chill out. Yeah, I was very wrong.

In secondary school, it became even more obvious that I wasn't feeling the same as the other teenagers – and they didn't like it. They started quizzing me constantly about why I felt the way I did.

"Are you gay?", "Is it a mental disorder?", "Is there something wrong with your genitals?", "Did you get molested as a child?", "You're probably just underdeveloped or a late bloomer?", "Surely you're just being too picky?", "You must just be unlovable or unattractive to everyone?"

My physical and mental health was up for debate. But back then, at 15, I didn't really have an answer. That's when one of my classmates said, "Maybe you're asexual or something." I'd only really heard the word 'asexual' used about organisms in biology class, not in the context of human sexuality.

So I Googled it and thought it sounded like me, but at the time, there was so much disinformation online that I wasn't 100% sure. Besides, when everybody keeps telling you there must be something wrong with you, after a while, you start to wonder if they're right. You begin to doubt yourself, to question your own life experiences, your own thoughts and identity.

It wasn't until I started talking to other asexual people – strangers online whose experiences, finally, reflected my own – that I started to realise I wasn't alone. This wasn't some sort of grand turning point though. It would take a number of years to stop doubting myself and my identity; a natural consequence of being pathologised and gaslighted for so long. Through launching my activism career to raise awareness of asexuality and aromanticism on my platform, I met an entire population of people like me. I attended the UK Asexuality Conference in 2018 and was greeted by hundreds of people who showed me the true diversity of the ace community.

There are asexual people who, like me, experience little to no levels of sexual attraction, and have no sexual or romantic – that's the 'aromantic' part – desire towards other people. But I learnt that there are a lot of asexual people who still experience romantic attraction and vice versa. I know many married asexual people, and aromantic sexual people – I'm sure we all know someone who's not really into dating or relationships, but still loves sex! I know people in our community who are parents, grandparents, husbands, wives, young, old, Black, white – and they are proud of who they are.

The problem is, those stereotypes and toxic misconceptions I heard as a 15-year-old from my classmates at school? I still hear them today. We live in a society obsessed with relationships; where to love and be loved by another person is not only the ultimate aspiration, but the expectation.

Until asexuality becomes part of public discourse and representation, we will continue to be misunderstood, told that there's something wrong with us, overlooked in education and legislation, and medicalised (and medicated). Women like me will continue to be dismissed as unlovable, ugly, frigid and boring. This is especially true for Black women, who are so hypersexualised, that to be a Black asexual woman seems entirely contradictory to people.

But I live a perfectly happy and fulfilled life as a Black asexual, aromantic woman. I don't need a partner to complete me – I'm complete just the way I am. That's why I use my platform to fight against asexuality stigma, dispel myths and help empower the ace community.

For allies, as always, the first step to show your support is by educating yourself, and to start normalising asexuality by including it in your conversations. That way, conversations around sexuality will inevitably become more inclusive and comfortable for the ace community. Asexual people will – finally – begin to feel seen.

We deserve to be seen.

Yasmin is the co-founder of International Asexuality Day, taking place this year on 6th April. Found out more internationalasexualityday.org.

Follow Yasmin on Instagram and Twitter.

https://www.glamourmagazine.co.uk/article/asexuality-and-aromanticism

#yasmin benoit #glamour magazine #asexual #aromantic #asexual awareness #thisiswhatasexuallookslike #this is what asexual looks like #asexuality #zalando #diesel #black model #black asexual #aromantic pride #alternative black girl #alternative model #alternative fashion #editorial #acephobia #aphobia

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delu-jean · 3 years

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Omg I love your writing ❤ 💕 💞 not sure if you're still taking requests but can you do a fluffy one shot with midoriya and short reader uwu 💖

𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮 𝐱 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Deku x (fem!/reader) -> Fluff -> 1.2k

Synopsis: Deku dating a short reader!!

Notes: This was very cute!! I had it in my drafts for a while, and apologize for not posting things sooner. Thanks very much, and if anyone would like to submit a request for the 100 Follower Event, please press the hyperlink for the rules!! Enjoy ^^

"Hey Izu, could you help me reach that?" You asked, while reaching for a book. It was at the top of a shelf. Even with a step stool, you still had difficulty grabbing it. So, since Izuku was cleaning up, you thought it would be best if he helped you.

"Of course Y/n," he said, leaning over you.

In the process, he became a blushing mess, while you were trying not get crushed. His right hand had pushed it aside, leading the hardcover to slip into his palm. After he handed the book needed, he then scratched the back of his head, feeling shy.

"T-There you go Y/n. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"No need Izu, although...you did almost crush me," you teased as he flared his hands.

"I-I DID!? I'M SO SORRY-"

"Don't be~. Besides, I was just teasing. It really wasn't that big of a deal," he then looked down guiltily, still feeling bad regardless.

"Izu-kun, don't worry. Now, let's go!"

---

You and Izuku had known each other for only a couple of years (being that you both met in middle school - UA). Even so, during that time, there was one thing that stuck out in your relationship, and that was...your height. You were extremely short compared to him, and even though he never held it against you, it was something you found irritable (from time to time). Wishing you could’ve been even an inch taller.

Growing up, people would compliment how cute you were, because of how short your body was. Even though you had nothing against being short, there were times where being tall would’ve been nice. Height was an advantage in the hero world, especially with your type of quirk. Since it required both speed, and much demand from your body, having longer legs, a larger torso, and even arms would’ve been nice.

Not only that...but there were times where you had seen taller women. Those who were so inspiring, and gorgeous. Lovely ladies who had circled their morale around their height. You never degraded yourself because of that, but then again, it would’ve been nice if such a gift was given. Those thoughts had run through your head from time to time. You weren’t sure if they were because of insecurity, nor envy. But regardless, your thoughts had drawn to the conclusion: “it would be nice, yet it’s not a necessity.”

And even on the days where you had wished it was, you remembered as to why you were content with such height. Though, your partner was not the main reason as to why you loved/disliked it, he was definitely a motive when appreciating your characteristic. Deku seemed to have adored you, no matter how small, different, or ordinary you were. He’d always appreciate, and love the factors you bestowed. On the days where you were uncertain of things, he’d always help by reassuring you. Your height being just one of the many conflicts he’d help you gain confidence from. He wanted you to know that he was there for you, no matter what. Comforting you in the utmost sweetest ways.

And on the days where you needed his words of admiration, he’d be sure to shower you in them. If it was specifically about your height, he would tell you how he thought your shortness was cute. How helping you to reach things wasn’t a chore, rather, a pleasure. And how when intertwining hands, he wouldn’t have to worry about his palms, and fingers being bigger. That was because your delicate, and elegant hands would always lay perfectly in his (though, his wording wasn’t exact, and he’d break into a rambling melt down).

He had always been gentle with you. Regardless if the situation called for it, it's just how he was. Wanting to treat you the way he sought best. He’d always compliment you subtly, making sure to be both sensitive, and respectful. Not wanting to make you upset, nor wanting to make any mistakes which he would have regretted.

“You look really nice in that. It suits your size.”

“You're not too small, it’s just a tad bigger. You’re not made to fit clothes, clothes are made to fit you. Here, try this instead. I think they’d suit your lovely eyes.”

“Do you need help? I can help you grab that.”

Though Izuku had said that, in his mind, he really wasn’t. He too at times did feel self-conscious about his height. Being 5’5 was considered short for guys his age, and well...he was sure that he was done with growing. Sometimes he woulSo, out of both that, and his respect for you, he never used it as a way to drag you down. Even in a joking matter, your height or anything disrespectful, would run through his head.

“If you need a stoll, I’m here. I may not be Mount Everest, but I’m the closest there is.”

Though he was never made fun of for being “short,” he still felt like he needed to reach that expectation (the expectation of being tall). But with you, he never would have wanted you to feel that way. So he made it his priority for you to feel otherwise, and instead, encouraged something the both of you looked at to be a disadvantage.

“Izuku...you're so tall,” you said, while hugging the boy. His chin had lay on your head, as yours pouted in his chest.

“Share a couple inches would you.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” he laughed, as you then looked at him seriously.

“Please Izu. I need it,” you said jokingly, yet determined.

“Y/n...you don’t need it,” he then kissed your forehead. Your initial joke...had now turned into something more serious, and sincere.

“You’re perfect no matter your height. So please don’t feel like you need to change, especially so drastically. Of course, if you want to change things that you can for your benefit, by all means, go ahead. But please don’t feel like changing the entirety of yourself is the answer...okay?”

He looked at you quite intensely. Though he had found it to be an intentful statement, you found it quite adorable. Seeing how much he cared, even when you were joking...made you smile. Izuku truly wanted you to see what he had seen in yourself, and you wanted him to know that you wanted the same. For him to know that you also wanted him to see how loving he was in your eyes. How sweet he could be, and how adorable he was when being your number one supporter.

You then cupped his cheeks. Though you needed to tip toe, it became less of a problem as he leaned down. You saw the red which flushed on his face, along with the rambles which scattered all over him. He seemed shy the closer you got, and unsure if what he said had offended you. He knew that your actions were out of affection, but even then did his thoughts linger. Wondering if he messed up, or misplaced his sense of words. Before you could speak, he first said:

“I...I’m sorry Y/n. I said something wrong, and I-”

“Izuku, you’ve said nothing wrong. If anything, your concern is both reasonable, and sweet.”

“S-sweet?” the boy questioned, now burying his face with his hands.

“Haha of course. As expected of my lovely izu-kun.”

“But am I as lovely as you say I am?...” he asked, feeling the opposite if anything.

“Of course you are, I’m not a liar now...am I?”

“Haha, of course not,” you then wrapped him in another tight hug, and regardless of the height which was far by much, the distance between your hearts was not. Both being very near, and dear.

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 3 years

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Sick Days

A/N: Another Steve AU for you guys. Also, I just hit 100 followers (like after I began writing this) which is crazy so thank you all! I’ll probably do one of those follower milestone things, I just have to figure out what. Thank you again my lovelies, I love you all! Pairing: CEO!Steve Rogers x F!Chubby!Reader (Or skinny reader, you can really fluctuate to your body type.) Word count: 2,486 Warnings: Some slight angst against side characters, swearing.

"Where’s Y/N?” His voice boomed to his various employees, the important ones all across the glass table in the large conference room. The sunlight beaming in through floor to glass windows was interrupted with shadows of the New York skyline, or at least the few buildings that were as high if not higher than the one that occupied Rogers Industries. Everyone fell completely still, completely quiet.

“Um, she texted me this morning, saying she was very sick, Mr. Rogers.” One of his associates very quietly replied.

“She’s sick?” He asked, sighing deeply, turning around and marching out of the room. He flew past the various hallways, every employee immediately moving out of their way for him in confusion and fear. Making his way to his office on the top floor, he slammed the grand doors grabbing his phone and immediately dialing your number.

“Steve?” You answered after the third ring. Your voice was crackly, he could hear your sniffly nose from the other end, “I’m sorry I didn’t call I-” “Hey, hey, baby.” He cooed, immediately understanding you were actually sick, “No need to justify. How are you feeling?” His voice grew soft and tender, his face dropping from tensions with anger to now tensions with concern.

“Like death.” You responded, to which he sighed, “I haven’t been able to get out of bed, I have a fever of 102, I can’t eat, I couldn’t sleep last night I-” “Okay, okay, alright.” He interrupted you, thinking for a moment. “I need you to head over to my place-” “No, Steve.” You interrupted, “I am not going over to your apartment, excuse me, penthouse, in this condition.”

“Yes, you are.” He fought back.

“Steve, how am I even supposed to get out of bed?” You tried to reason, “It hurts to even pee.”

“Then I’ll pick you up. Literally.” “Steve, no.” You concluded, “Your day is already probably messed up because I’m not there to answer calls and deal with stupid people and help you with whatever you need. I don’t need your pity.”

“I’m not pitying you, I’m worried about you. And no my day is not messed up.” “Yet,” You began.

“Okay, yet.” He admitted, “No one is as good of an assistant as you are. I have four people, two of whom have PhDs, trying to juggle your job. I don’t know how you do it.”

“I don’t know either,” You lightly laughed, to the best of your abilities.

“How about I come over after work then?” He settled, “I’ll bring you some food, anything you want, okay?” You hummed over the phone.

“Sounds great.” You replied, “I love you, Stevie.” You smiled lightly.

“Love you too.” He smiled as well, hanging up.

You had been Steve’s assistant for 10 years. It was funny at first, he was an unknown man starting his own company at 24, you were fresh in college at 18 and needed a job. So, after seeing your work ethic and how smart you were, he decided to hire you, finding you as the perfect fit.

You has been his constant companion for those 10 years, traveling with him all the time, attending meetings, you were always by his side. There was a silent relationship between the two of you. Both of you knew some form of chemistry existed, but never acknowledged it. Until Steve finally asked you out only four months ago.

He had finally grown mature enough to throw away his playboy-type persona. He didn’t want women just to be there, and for them to be attracted to him for his money. Though he was one of the most handsome bachelors for women to lay their eyes on. No, he wanted a true life partner.

And you had been with him since the get-go, when sometimes he couldn’t even pay you one week because everything was so tight. But you stuck with him every second of the way, and he knew if you would go out with him it wasn’t because of his money, but because of him.

Sure, you weren’t as fit as many of the girls he had dated in the past. And maybe the media wouldn’t categorize you as a “beauty”. But you were the most gorgeous woman to him. You were mature, kind, smart, organized. He bragged about you to his closest friends from the beginning, before you even began dating, categorizing you as an “intellectual”, a compliment you would brush off not wanting to boost your ego.

“Jackie,” He called one of his associates who was an acting assistant of the day.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers?” She asked over the phone.

“I need you to get all of these things, preferably from that diner off Broadway and Warren. I need it ready in exactly 20 minutes, back to me in 30.” He began, “I’ve sent them over to you. Get it done. Now.” He hung up, residing back to his usual work.

Only a minute later his office phone was ringing. “Hello?” He answered, partially annoyed considering this has now disrupted his response to a passive aggressive email sent by a nobody at a partnering company.

“Mr. Rogers, they said it wouldn’t be ready for 45-” “Did I say 45 minutes?” He interrupted, aggravation filling his voice.

“No I just-”

“I don’t have 45 minutes. You’re now down to 28 minutes before the food should be placed on my fucking desk and ready to go.” “Mr. Rogers there’s nothing I can do-” “Maybe you can be assertive next time, Jackie, or you’ll be out of a job in a second. Figure it out.” He slammed the phone back on the desk with a loud bang, grunting and rubbing his hand over his face. Leaning back he reflected on your words. “Yet”. If you were the one in charge of that, the food would have been on his desk in 20 minutes, not ready in 45.

It didn’t only annoy him that clearly his associates had no ability to think outside of the little boxes they had placed themselves in, but he was talking about you. Although no one at the office, or in the company, knew you two were dating, anyone who got in the way of you would be fired in a hot second. In a moment he could have them standing outside his skyscraper, box in hands sobbing if they even attempted to bother you. You were not only the most precious asset to his company, you were the most precious thing in his life.

He continued his work, not worry too much about how everything was going outside of his office. If anyone fucked up, he would fire them. Easy as that. Once again, his gratitude for you grew greater and greater as he got a text from you.

Please don’t say you’re going to hard on people. I know you’re kind of an ass of a boss, but at least go a little easy on them today. Xo, Y/N

He couldn’t help but smile a little bit. Damn right he was an ass of a boss, and he prided himself on it. As he began responding, Jackie rushed in, looking both winded and scared. “Here you are, Mr. Rogers.” She placed the three bags full of food on his desk.

“You’re three minutes late.” He sat up, looking over the bags, “If I wasn’t in a good mood you would be fired. I’ll let you off on this one.” He sighed, she stood there and took a deep sigh.

“T-thank you, Mr. Rogers.” She nervously walked out.

Trying not to, babe :). Try to be nice to yourself, too, you deserve it. Xo, Steve

He responded, smiling as he sent it, counting down the minutes to be home with you, cooing you and comforting you. He wanted nothing more than to just sit with you all day and watch TV shows, hearing your snarky and stupid commentary. He loved every moment of it.

He removed his mind from his favorite topic, you, and decided to try and focus on some work, as a distraction from the fact he couldn’t be right there with you. Scrolling through stupid emails and paperwork only made his need to be with you all that much worst, his watch not moving fast enough for his liking. With a frustrated sigh he took matters into his own hands.

Stuffing his work in his workbag, he grabbed his phone, getting up and storming out of his office with the take out bags. Everyone looked up at him, confusion and worry ridden all over their faces. He never left early, let alone an hour early.

“Um, Mr. Rogers,” One of his associates perked up, trailing behind him a bit.

“What.” He snapped, not changing his gaze from straight ahead.

“You have that meeting in an hour with Mr. Wilson, where are you going-” Steve stopped in his tracks, turning around to face the boy behind him with a grimace look. “Where I am going is none of your business. And reschedule the meeting with him, he’ll understanding.” And just like that, the man took off again, leaving out the doors and to his car. Slamming his door, he messily started the ignition, holding the leather steering wheel to his Audi, knuckles turning white with annoyance.

His face was blank as he sped through New York traffic, aggressively beeping at all the idiots in his way. He knew you would be scolding the shit out of him right now if you were in the passenger seat, letting him know that you thought he should go back to driving school. He would just lightly smile at your spunk, loving it ever so much.

Speeding into your parking garage underground, he managed to finally find a spot, cursing himself out numerous times for not being there earlier to save one of these now filled spaces. He grabbed his keys and bags with speed, clumsily hanging onto everything, only determined to get to you.

He made his way up the elevator from the parking garage to floor 34, where you were. The elevator was far too slow, in his opinion. He had been meaning to get you a new apartment recently, not that your apartment wasn’t safe or anything. It just wasn’t nice or good enough for you, in his opinion. Granted, nothing in this world would be good enough for you in his eyes. You deserved every damn thing.

He walked out of the elevator, perseverance painted across his face. Finally, he made it to the far end of the carpeted hallway, grabbing your key off of his key ring and placed it in, taking a sigh when it opened. “Baby?” He called, his entire mood changing in a second at the smell and sight of your home. When there was no response, he quietly shut the door, locking it, placing the bags of food on the counter.

Taking his work shoes off along with his jacket and tie, he crept into your room. There you were, an angel from the heavens in his sight, scrunched up in your own warmth under your large comforter, your favorite blanket sprawled out over you. He smiled to himself, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt and removing his cuffs.

Climbing into bed next to you as easily as he could, in hopes he wouldn’t stir you, he placed his large arm over your body, shorter than his, and moved himself closer to you, providing warmth. You moved a bit with a light groan, “Stevie?” You asked, still half asleep, but moving over and closer to his warmth so now you were now the little spoon.

“Hey, baby doll.” He whispered with a smile, kissing the top of you head. “Go back to sleep, m’kay? You need rest.” You shook your head with a yawn, opening your eyes to see the man you loved, a smile growing across your face.

“You woke me up.” You slightly laughed.

“’M sorry.” He smiled back, taking your messy, natural, unbrushed hair in his fingers and brushing out some of the small tangles.

“It’s okay.” You moved even closer to him so every inch of your side was touching his warmth.

“Have you eaten anything today?” He asked next, with a sweet, calming voice. You shook your head into his shoulder, “Okay,” He muttered, “I brought you some food.” “Stevie I’m not that hungry-”

“I got you chicken tenders.” He countered. You sighed in defeat.

“Fine.” You replied, rolling over just a bit to let him go get it. He got the memo, getting up and quickly retrieving the take out boxes.

“Here ya go, babe.” He smiled, helping you sit up, and giving the box to you.

You graciously accepted the food, opening it and taking a bite, sighing with a smile. “Best boyfriend ever.” You smiled, taking another bite and leaning your head on his shoulder. “So,” You began, “How was the office today?” He scoffed, “A nightmare.” You chuckled.

“Of course it was.”

“I had four people playing my assistants today, and not a single one could send an email to Stark or Barnes, my two most prominent allies in this business. It’s ridiculous-” “Steve,” You interrupted, “I already sent those emails today.” “For real?” He turned to you, his face turning serious, “You have a fever of 102, can barely move, and you sent two emails?” “And faxed over some paper work, and scheduled a few of your meetings for next month, and got your next travel itinerary set.” You responded.

“Jeez,” He sighed, at a complete lose for words, “You are one of a kind, you know that? Literally the most incredible person at that company, or most companies for that matter.” You lightly smiled.

“No need to flatter me, I was doing my job.” You blew it off.

“Your job today was to rest and relax.” “Steven,” You looked up at him, “You’re forgetting who I am. I’m not relaxing until my work is done,” You continued, “Now that it is, I say we watch some TV for the rest of the night. Game of Thrones or Westworld?” You asked next. He just looked at you confused, “Westworld it is.” You replied, grabbing your remote on your bedside. “Now c’mon, you need to relax too. I can feel how tense you are from here.”

“Fine.” He replied, reluctantly loosening his shoulders a bit.

“There you go babe,” You smiled, sniffling a bit due to your current condition right after, “Just relax a little. We’re not at work, no stupid people.” He lightly laughed. Using his hand, he took your chin and moved your head to look at his face.

“I’m the luckiest guy in the world, you know that?” You smiled and maneuvered your head to his shoulder again.

“Not nearly as lucky as I am to have you, Mr. Rogers.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fan fiction #ceo!steve rogers #ceo!steve rogers x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x chubby!reader #ceo!steve rogers x chubby!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #ceo!steve rogers x y/n #ceo!steve rogers x you

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soulvomit · 2 years

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Apropos of this:

This is something I experienced -

Some men liked me. They were usually VERY weird. Past levels of weird I was often willing to tolerate in a relationship. But there is something in het female discourse where this is not treated as some soul-deep defect. You could get a makeover. You could lose weight. You could buy that book The Rules and stop creeping people out. (I actually own a copy of that book and got involved in a community for it for a little while, because I wanted to learn to stop tripping people’s craydar.) But.

Women required a total leveling up in my ability to relate to people’s complicated social structures, a level of “reading the room” that I hadn’t previously encountered, a kind of eggshell dance around offending people (I never offended men but always offended women), a much higher level of manners and etiquette required, and even being “the right emotional temperature” because being too cool/reserved would be read as being curt/mean. But what’s more is that most women’s needs seemed *fundamentally incompatible with being ND.* More women than men take “remembering the little things” as a sign of commitment and love and I even run into this with women friends/roommates because of the degree to which forgetting something, failing to remember something I was told, or spacing on something, is taken as some horrible horrible sin against the relationship/roommateship/friendship. I feel like women are trained early on to take this stuff Very Seriously and men aren’t quite as much. What’s more is that straight women, for the most part, understand they have to accept the ways in which straight men are “a little glitchy” because traditionally, they’ve been raised to see themselves as the more socially and emotionally intelligent gender anyway. There is a whole genre of books from the 90s for women about dealing with the little glitchy things that men do that men can’t help because male brain or some bullshit. But what if you’re a WOMAN with a brain like that? Fuck you, I guess? You’re a broken, bad woman? Wlw don’t have to tolerate this stuff *at all.* Not when being a hyper-conscientious room reader is required of all women. What if you’re a person who SUCKS at “the little things?” And you CAN’T HELP IT? Like, literally, being ND made dating women an impossible minefield. Certain types of social proof mattered more to them than it had to men. They also had a much higher bar for normalcy and *required* a certain level of expressive (performative?) emotionality from their partners. Like, my basic traits and failings are things that a woman who wanted a woman, wasn’t going to want from another woman. If they wanted those things, they’d have gotten with a man. Do you know that I did not even BEGIN to investigate that I might be on the autism spectrum before I started dating women? Once I started dating women, it became obvious that I was some kind of broken woman. This never came up with men. But fuck, even my ADHD traits weren’t great with other women, either. Like... among men yes I was just a quirky weird girl, and as long as I could manage my Crazy Chick red-flags (btw that book The Rules is 100% about this!), there were guys who’d date me anyway.

With women, it was Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect 200 Dollars. There was SO much involved and it’s like my whole identity (or right to claim that identity at all) depended, at any point, on other women’s approval and validation. They required the approval of their friends, they required a degree of social proof that even normie men didn’t require, they had these Byzantine social dynamics.

I legit had a much easier time in the genderqueer space than in wlw space; I ran into lots of people like myself. Though there... I ran into the same issue I ran into with cis het men: anyone weird enough to want to be with me, was probably weird enough to have dealbreaking mental health or adult adjustment issues. I ended up in a relationship with one of them (my partner previous to this one) - who, in retrospect, had the same dealbreaking traits, but I got with him anyway and probably shouldn’t have. The funny thing is that the optics, due to his transition 3/4 of the way through our relationship, and due to the fact that I don’t identify openly as NB, are that I’ve only ever been in het relationships. So again it gets weird calling myself queer given there isn’t a single ex I have that isn’t “he/him.” Just long long periods of dating no one, because I was trying to exclusively date women, and failing.

#very occasionally I hit it off with a trans woman and that is very interesting!#because that would totally be an option in my mind if I were available #it just never happened to happen #as in I didn't meet them more than occasionally #but I seem to click along the ND and nerd axis with trans women pretty frequently #also I think that there are more ND people in genderqueer space than in wlw space

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klaineownsmysoul · 3 years

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Why does D agree to certain things? It’s probably because the alternative is worse but then I still don’t understand why he agreed to the sham. He could not have right? Idk what would have happened had he, but I feel anything is better than being married to her. All she does is ruin his reputation, and give him a straight image (to his team), so I genuinely wonder what image he wants for himself because if he didn’t go along with it, what else could they have painted him as that they haven’t already and continue to?

There are endless opinions on this, depending on who you ask. The m/iarren stans and the fans who believe that every message from D’s SM are actually from him will tell you that there was nothing to agree to because he loves her and wanted to marry her because he can’t live without her. They have a love that’s truer than true and are #couple goals. They are perfect for each other in every way and he adores her every breath and she’s just as devoted to him, which is why she follows him everywhere he goes. There’s nothing odd about the length of their relationship and the fact that no one involved in it can give you a consistent time frame. You ask 5 people how they met or when they started dating, you’ll get 5 different answers. All those pics of them together where she’s grabbing onto him and clutching at any limb within her reach are just her being affectionate. The fact that they sit like strangers on a subway during one part of an interview and when it’s noticed, the next part that’s released has both of them being all touchy feely is just coincidence. The dude bro slang and emoji filled posts are just him having fun and being spontaneous. They’re cheeky and silly. Its just him living his best life and there’s nothing forced or untoward about it. He loves only hanging out with her trashy besties and spending nights entertaining the masses in her piano baby/lifelong dream business that she can’t be bothered to promote or run while he accompanies her on the piano looking completely lifeless as she drunkenly butchers one of the 4 songs she knows and thinks she can sing. He’s just being a supportive partner when he talks about the awful branded merchandise from the strip bar during a tv segment that’s supposed to be about his career and then models it later on in a cute coupley pic where he looks like his soul has just left his body. Having her accompany his every move is just what married couples do or didn’t you know that? It’s not natural for one partner to do something without the other, especially if it’s career related. All celeb couples are joined at the hip once they officiate their own wedding. All celeb couples have a wedding - or a great party as it’s sometimes known as - that is corporate sponsored to within an inch of its life. All celeb couples who have one person say they didn’t want to be in a public relationship have a cover story done in Vogue magazine and then have their pr team make sure the link to that article is noted and shared in practically every print interview done for the other person for over a year. This is all completely normal behavior for a 100% believable couple.

There are no such things as contracts that dictate behavior and managers and pr teams don’t post things on their client’s behalf. Lavender relationships and marriages are a thing of the past. No one would dare impose something like that on a celeb in 2021. It must be nice to be that naive. Or sad. Mostly sad. If you believe that, then you haven’t been listening to the stories of celebs who’ve been closeted and decided to come out at the risk of their career. It’s a thousand times easier to market someone as straight - there’s no denying that. And when you’re young and just starting out, you have no leverage whatsoever and will go along with what people tell you to do. If you don’t, you don’t have a career. It’s as simple and evil as that. They hold all the cards and if you want to be a musician or an actor, you have to play by their rules. You sign a deal and before you know, everything has snowballed and you’re in so deep, you don’t know how to begin to climb out. Look at Taylor Swift and the mess she’s gone through with her songs and she’s one of the biggest singers on the planet. Whether you’re a fan or not, you know who she is. If she can’t get control over songs that she freaking wrote because of a shitty contract she signed when she was like 16 without massive amounts of legal issues, what hope do the people who are less famous have? Look at what D said about his lack of input on the evolution of Blaine’s hair and how he didn’t want to rock the boat. Something as simple as that and he didn’t feel like he could or should speak up. Now apply that same mentality to a legal document and think about how hard it would be to try to countermand any part of it, especially when you’re as young as he was then.

D’s team is particularly troublesome because they’re lazy and incompetent and have no interest in marketing him as he really is. The easy way out is the straight way out and that’s their lane. That’s the one they’ve chosen and they will ride that till the wheels fall off. Let’s be honest: D is all RR has. He’s going to milk every drop he can out of D while he can. There’s no celeb out there with an established career who’s considering new management who looks at D’s situation: the circus that is always around him, the garbage that’s posted on his SM in his name, the endless ads for things like ugly ass jewelry and a paid promo pic for a 5 star hotel in the Philippines from the group honeymoon (not a thing) that they crashed after D spent days sifting through garbage with women who live in abject poverty and will never make the kind of money that even a meal at that hotel would cost which totally makes him look awesome - and think “yes! This is what’s been missing all along. Where do I sign?” He’s not getting a free home reno and some TV time from the girl who played Luna in the HP movies and B/ecca T/obin - someone who played a forgettable and unremarkable bitchy blond cheerleader (def breaking the mold there, totally not a trope that can be found in every 80s high school movie or tv show) and now hosts a ridiculous podcast. So he’s going to push his own agenda and make sure that everyone knows his client is straight at every opportunity that’s presented and foist his bride in our faces at even more opportunities just in case it wasn’t clear because oh my god did you hear that D is straight? And he’s been dating this super cool rockstar woman since he was an embryo so there’s no way anything could have ever happened between him and someone else from this show he was on for a while. It wasn’t a big deal or anything. He had a small role and a love interest but they weren’t real popular. I mean if you’ve seen one gay teenage romance, you’ve seen them all. The show’s been over for 5 years and they’re hardly ever mentioned now so there’s no point in keeping them alive. It’s not a role that meant anything to him and it’s certainly not something he would want to celebrate the 10 year anniversary of. I wonder if he was allowed to do that as long as managed to shoehorn in a mention of his lovely ball and chain of many moons. Because that’s what always happens. Doesn’t matter what the topic at hand is - it always seems to come back around to her. And she just smirks and flashes her fake engagement ring at the camera and eats it up because he does all the work and she reaps all the rewards. Like RR, she’ll never give him up without a fight because what then? No one will write articles about what a badass she is. No one will be there to do free promo for her strip bar. No more red carpet pics or designer duds gifted to her. No more free trips to Europe or last minute weekend getaways with his stylist. No one will care about her super secret Instagram account and post pics from it that she’s forwarded over so they get picked up and pumped out to news blogs for maximum coverage. No more pics with actual famous people because who’s inviting a career less nobody to events? She’s a woman in her mid 30s who behaves like an 18 year old on spring break and thinks nothing of it. She doesn’t give a shit how her behavior reflects on D because she doesn’t care about him. All she cares about is what he can provide her and that’s secondhand fame, money, and the image of the best wife to ever wife. But if he was single, then there’d be even more questions about his sexual orientation than there are now and no way to refute anything. So we get this clusterfuck. What they fail to understand is that the harder they push, the more holes they create and the more distasteful this all becomes. I just want to be a fan of D. That’s all I want. But I can’t do that because he comes with a front and center “work family” that I can’t get away from.

I sometimes don’t know what he wants for himself image wise but I truly don’t think it’s this. The difference between in person D and SM D is too great for me to believe he’s really cool with all of it. I don’t know how many more times he has to say that he’s rarely on SM, which should be the reddest of red flags that most of the stuff posted is not coming from him. The fact that he’s taken to SM to rebuff things said in his name that are patently false and insulting reinforces that belief for me. He’s not perfect but he’s not the fake barely literate guy he’s portrayed as. I wouldn’t still be here if I thought that’s who he really was and I wouldn’t care at all about his personal life if it wasn’t shoved down my throat ad naseum.

Well this post kinda got away from me. 😊. I’m so very tired of all this and if I’m tired, D must be exhausted.

#pathetic and obvious table for one please #Hollywood is effing toxic #he deserves so much better

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whentherewerebicycles · 3 years

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wow okay i am skipping the lingerie party lol and am instead going to just briefly jot down some thoughts before i go to sleep and wake up at 5 for my flight tomorrow morning. jesus christ i have ONE MILLION thoughts and feelings about this weekend. i want to preface this by saying that on the whole, it was a fine social experience! it was nowhere near as awkward or painful as i was expecting. or like, parts of it were painful, but it was 100% to do with my own complicated feelings about literally every part of this tradition and the wedding industry in general lol, and not anything to do with the people themselves. the other women were friendly and very welcoming, i made an event best friend who was wonderful company, and it was really fun to get to spend time with both my sister-in-law and her older sister, who was so charming and wonderful. i’m glad i came even though thinking about the $$ i spent on this trip makes me physically gag.

but okay i want to just record some THOUGHTS that maybe i will continue unpacking with some distance. i feel likeeeee okay here are my thoughts.

the social norms around femininity are just a fucking minefield and i feel like i really just gotta keep walking back the impulse to judge other women for the choices they make as they navigate around the manifold traps and snares and half-buried landmines that constitute the landscape of being a woman. like jesus christ. it’s so fucked up, it’s so fucked up, the received and socially enforced norms of femininity are just so fucked up. I think ALL THE FUCKING TIME of this margaret atwood poem i love so much, which was REALLY on my mind this weekend:

How can I teach her some way of being human that won’t destroy her?

I would like to tell her, Love is enough, I would like to say, Find shelter in another skin.

I would like to say, Dance and be happy. Instead I will say in my crone’s voice, Be ruthless when you have to, tell the truth when you can, when you can see it.

I feel like the first bit was very much on my mind throughout the weekend, but those last three lines have come to the forefront over the course of this last day, as i have tried to do some Thinking about what i observed/experienced/felt this weekend. whether or not this is what it means in the context of the poem, tell the truth when you can, when you can see it, expresses something of my complex feelings: I don’t know that I can tell the truth about femininity because I don’t know that I can see it. i am both too close to it/still emotionally entangled in it and too far from it to know which parts of it are ‘real’ and which parts are just performance.

i feel like one thing that struck me this weekend, in ways that i don’t know if i’ve noticed as much before, was that so much of the things women say to each other or do in these social contexts is performative, and they know on some level it’s a performance, but we are all going through the motions of doing and saying the expected things anyway. that has not always been clear to me. i have spent so much of my own life as a woman thinking that other women perfectly, seamlessly, naturally embodied the norms of femininity, and i was the only one (or part of a group of only ones) who couldn’t remember my lines, or kept fumbling my cues, or felt so painfully, self-consciously aware that i was playing a role that i could never deliver a convincing performance. but this weekend, after the initial social panic had passed, i started trying to get out of my own head a little bit and look for things that disproved the very strong theory i had brought into the weekend. and of course then i started seeing more and more of the little moments where women say one thing and do another, or profess one belief/conviction but then the whole corpus of their lived experiences and choices contradicts that stated belief, or whatever. and also just like, moments of pathos, where someone i had judged harshly at the beginning of the weekend offhandedly revealed something about her past that really changed my perception of her, or at least made me think like, ah god, i have to have empathy for and with this person, because i think she might be a complex person just like me, with an intricate inner life that her performance partially reveals and partially occludes from view, and agh, it sucks to have to think of people as complicated instead of as safely two-dimensional & easy to dismiss, and the reason it sucks is because then it forces you to realize that you share more with this person than you’d like to admit, and that some of your wounds are the same, even if you dealt with those wounds (the wounds of girlhood, or rather the emotional wounds that our culture inflicts upon girls, which then become tangled up in complex and painful ways with the lived experience of girlhood itself) in really different ways.

but also ugh. we are all performing gender norms but there is just something that does not feel playful at all about embodying conventional femininity. i can’t think of a better way to phrase that right now but it’s like.. the performance isn’t fun. it doesn’t seem to be fun. i don’t know that anyone here was having fun doing it, even if they were having fun being with each other. but it was like doing the intensely gendered social rituals was like, the price of admission? like it was the toll we had to pay to be together spending time in the company of other women? i don’t know man but it fucking exhausts me. like i can push myself to stretch my genuine empathy and sense of solidarity with other women much further than my knee-jerk judgmental reaction, but i can’t ever get to a place where i find any of those social rituals anything other than fucking exhausting. they feel so fucking joyless. they feel like things that many women have internalized as ‘things we must do in order to have relationships with other women.’ (please do not even get me started on how exhausting heteronormativity is i think i could write an entire other essay on how women use these bachelorette party-type rituals to spend time with their closest female friends, but the whole event is still implicitly organized around men, and these women’s male partners are still positioned as the priority in their lives, and the whole event is framed as like, a last burst of intense closeness between women before the bride is delivered over to her husband. like i KNOW that this is not how women think of it but all the RHETORIC of the bachelorette party, the little events and rituals and games, the little comments everyone makes all fucking weekend, good fucking lord, my jaw is so TENSE.)

anyway god i just AGHHHH. idk sorry this is definitely not coherent at ALL because i’m tired and still need a bit more distance/time to process some of this. i guess here is one last thing i want to register before i sleep. i am in my 30s now and i am living a life that is so, so far removed from the social world i grew up in. marriage is not a norm among my friend group, almost all of my female friends are queer women, many women i know are not partnered and have no interest in being partnered, and the friends who are in heterosexual relationships tend to be in very gender-balanced relationships or slightly nontraditional relationships where it feels like both partners have engaged in conscious reflection about what they want their relationship to look/feel like. also i now date women, am out as a lesbian, and spend most of my time teaching/working with queer- and trans/nonbinary-identified kids.

so like, the world i live in now is just so different from the world i grew up in. and sometimes it is easy for me to kind of downplay the intensity of my own gender distress as a teen and young adult, or to sort of - act like it was a phase in my life that had much more to do with me than with the social environment i lived in. i don’t mean ‘phase’ in a dismissive ‘those feelings weren’t real’ kind way, but more like, ‘oh that was just part of the normal growing pains of figuring out who you are and what kind of person you want to be as an adult - everybody pretty much goes through some version of that.’ it’s true that everyone DOES go through some version of that, as just like, part of the process of individuation in that age range. but also like. idk man. being back in this environment - straight white women from the midwest and south, all engaging in the rituals of heterosexual white femininity - was just so intense and so MUCH, and it brought back a flood of feelings and visceral memories that i feel like i will need to spend some time sorting through over the next few weeks. like, what i experienced back then really WAS gender distress, and it was so, so distressing. i spent the years from age 11ish to 24ish existing with this constant lowgrade baseline feeling of wanting to claw my own fucking skin off because my own gendered body felt like such a prison, and i sometimes felt like i literally wanted to destroy my own body because i could not yet conceive of an alternative to inhabiting that body or playing the role that had been handed down to me. until i started reading queer memoirs and inhaling lesbian media and (especially) reading about queer femme identities, i literally did not have an image or any kind of felt sense of what another way of inhabiting my own body might look/feel like. i literally could not imagine it!!!

and that is why the distress feels so distressing, and becomes internalized in such violent ways, i think. because it’s the blind, mindless panic of a trapped and wounded animal. except that you lack any real understanding of the larger social forces at work, or any language with which to describe or conceptualize what social norms are or how they’re enforced. so in your mind, the only thing you can see wounding you is your own gendered body, or the way that gendered body is socially 'read’ by others. and that is why you want to claw your own fucking skin off, just literally dig your nails into your own flesh and claw it the fuck off. because you can’t see a norm, but you can see your gendered body, and you can see the ways that it causes other people to react to you, or treat you, or hold you to a certain set of expectations, and so in your mind you are like: this must be destroyed. in your mind you are like, the only way out is to get out of this fucking body, but that’s impossible, surely, you can’t get out of your own body, so you have to settle for starving it and self-harming it and ruthlessly punishing it in a thousand terrible ways, because you might not be able to leave your girl’s body behind, but you can make it suffer and pay for what it’s done to you.

i am old enough now, and have spent enough time thinking and writing about those feelings, to identify them when they arise again, and to get the necessary distance from them so that i can say, what i want to destroy are the norms themselves, and the distress they cause, and not the body that has done nothing to me but be me. so i am not quite as sucked under as i used to be. but i think that there is something about the violence and intensity of those feelings that i forget sometimes, or misremember with age and distance. it’s easy to be a little bit patronizing to my younger self (or by extension to my younger students sometimes), because i now live in a social world that is largely arranged in ways that minimize rather than intensify or amplify gender distress. but when you have no choice in how to arrange your life, and no language with which to understand what is happening to you or what you are experiencing, and no frame of reference to help you understand that this is a period in your life and not forever, and no models you can look to in order to discover alternative ways of inhabiting your body or arranging your life... my god, that’s quite different from being an adult with a wide range of experiences and with much greater autonomy over your own body and life. anyway idk i need to keep thinking but now i must go to bed and try to sleep five hours before the plane.

#how can i teach her some way of being human #that won't destroy her!!!#gender #mw #to think further #girls I have been

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breanime · 4 years

Note

Theoretically if rio's cute neighbour, the one that watched his son, was being harassed by an ex or just some creepy guy. What would rio do?

So you can find the first neighbor headcannon list here. Also, this headcannon list got long as hell... haha, sorry?

*gif not mine*

Rio had been out of town for the last week, handling business

He’d texted you to let you know he’d be back soon--

--partly to be a good neighbor, and partly cause he wanted to see you

The two of you weren’t dating, but there was definitely something between you

(sexual tension)

And Rio was eager to see where it would go

He walked down the hall to his apartment, his bag slung over his shoulder, glad to be back in his own space

Then he saw your door

The wood was cracked, as if someone had punched it or something, and Rio stopped dead in his tracks

He knocked on your door, eyebrows knitted

You answered with a bat in your hands

“Huh...” Rio said, eyes roaming your body--from your tense posture to the bat in your hands to the tired, exhausted look in your eyes. “... Rough week without me, mama?”

“Oh, Rio,” you sighed, and Rio watched your body relax, “Sorry. I was just--”

“Expecting someone else?” He asked, walking into your apartment.

He dropped his bag at the foot of the couch and turned to you, frowning

Rio watched as you locked both locks on the door behind him; he’d been in your place about 100 times now, and he’d never seen you do that before

“Yeah, kind of...” You answered. “How was your trip?”

“Fine,” he answered, sticking his hands in his pockets, “but I don’t wanna talk about that right now. Let’s talk about you.” He titled his head. “What’s going on here?”

You sighed again, and Rio wanted to hold you. You were stressed, and he longed to fix it

“I’ve just...” You crossed your arms, hugging yourself. “I don’t want to bother you with it.”

Rio took a few steps forward, until he was in front of you. He eyed you seriously. Someone so beautiful, he thought, shouldn’t look so sad. Not when he was around to help.

“Bother me,” he said softly, his voice firm but low

“Last year...” You began, looking down. “...I dated this guy, and he was just...” You shook your head. “He was an ass. We broke up, and I never heard from him again... till a week ago... The night before you left.”

Rio’s eyes narrowed; he remembered that night. He’d taken you out for drinks before his trip, spending the night smiling and laughing with you. He’d gotten a call in the middle of it, and when he came back to the table, he saw a man walking away. But you hadn’t said anything about it, and you seemed fine, so he didn’t ask about it.

“The guy from the restaurant...” Rio said, nodding to himself. “That’s your ex.”

“He saw us out, and when you stepped away, he came up to me--but all he did was say hi. He wasn’t weird or aggressive or anything,” you said back, “But then he... I guess he found out where I lived...”

“Yeah,” Rio licked his lips, “that his handy work on the door?”

“Yeah,” you nodded back, “Every day since that night, he’s been calling me nonstop and showing up here, pounding on the door. I called the cops, but they said there’s nothing they can do unless he actually hurts me, so--”

“I got you,” Rio said, grabbing his bag

He turned to go, but you held onto his arm.

“What are you gonna do?” You asked, eyes wide.

He looked down at you

On one hand, he could lie to you, keep up the polite charade that he made his money the legal way, that his business was simply in “providing capital” like he’d told you once before. The two of you hadn’t ever explicitly discussed what he did, but Rio knew you knew his vague descriptions of his business were just that: pointedly vague

But on the other hand... he could tell you the truth. Maybe you’d be cool with it.

Or maybe you’d shy away and turn from him.

Either way, he was going to handle this for you, but he couldn’t deny--

--he wanted you to be ok with it. With him. For some reason, as Rio looked down at you, he saw something special, something that made him feel protective of you, something beyond the lust and friendly affection he had for you

When he looked at you, he saw a partner

“I’ma tell him that the next time he so much glances up at this apartment,” Rio answered evenly, “I’m gonna put a bullet between his eyes. And if he doesn’t like that, I’ll put him down then and there.”

“You... You’d do that for me?” You asked, pretty eyes wide

“I’d of had this handled already if you would’ve told me before,” he confessed, reaching out to cup your face in his hand, “but since I’m here now, I’ll handle it personally.” He leaned down, his mouth just inches from yours. Rio wanted to kiss you so badly, he felt the desire in every part of him with you so close. “Stay here,” he told you, “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He didn’t move, though, and neither did you.

Your hand flexed on his bicep, wanting to bring him even closer. “Rio, I...thank you.”

He smirked. “Don’t thank me yet.” He leaned in closer, about to say something else

And then you kissed him

Rio had kissed a lot of women in his life (a lot...like a lot a lot...)

But never had a pair of lips felt so good against his own.

Rio’s arms wrapped around you, and he silently marveled at how perfectly you fit against him. He titled his head, slipping his tongue into your mouth, and you moaned into him.

Chuckling, Rio’s hands went to your waist, and he led you towards the couch

You took a hold of his collar and dragged him down onto the couch with you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he laid on top of you

“Baby,” he chuckled into your lips, “I gotta go.”

“I know,” you said back, grinning, “I just need a few more minutes...”

He laughed. “For what?” He asked, even as he dipped his head down to start kissing your neck. The little sounds you made when his lips ghosted against your skin were driving him wild.

...the ex might have to wait a bit.

Rio was kissing your collarbones while lifting up your shirt when a loud band sounded behind him

You jumped, but Rio just turned lazily, one eyebrow raised

“It’s him,” you whispered, and when Rio looked down at you, he could see the fear in your eyes

This, he decided, would be the last time you would ever look like that

“Relax,” he said, his voice low and calm. He leaned down and kissed you sweetly, and he felt you relax under his touch. “I got this. Just stay here, mi bonita chica.”

Rio got up, kissing the top of your head as you sat up, and reached down into his bag.

“Y/N,” the banging was louder now, “I’m not playing with you--open this damn door right now!”

Rio grinned--it would be his pleasure

Rio opened the door and leaned on the doorway, a lazy smirk on his face. “Hey,” he greeted the man, “you know this is a private residence?”

The man blinked, taking a step back, and Rio chuckled. He knew this type: big, loud, and bad--until someone badder came around.

“Wh--what the hell are you doing here...?” The man asked, craning his neck to try to peek into the apartment.

“Yo,” Rio stood up straight, shaking his head, “What you lookin’ for? Huh?” He stepped up, and your ex stepped back again. “Y/N?” He asked. “She ain’t your concern no more, homie. I am.”

“I--I don’t--”

“Oh,” Rio chuckled, “That’s right, I’m sorry. I haven’t introduced myself.” He whipped out his gun, pointing it directly at the guy’s paling face. “I’m Rio. I’m the man Y/N’s currently seeing, and she wanted me to let you know that this shit,” he waved the gun, the smile no longer on his face, and the man backed up into the wall, eyes wide with terror, “Is done with. You stop callin’, you stop comin’ around, and you definitely stop trying to intimidate her into talkin’ to you. Matter of fact,” Rio went on, “the next time you see her, you better get the fuck away, cause if I hear about you even breathing in the same space as her again,” he stepped up and pressed the golden gun into the guy’s forehead, “I can’t promise I’ll stay this controlled. Is that understood?”

The ex nodded, looking like a bobblehead with his huge eyes “I---”

“No no no,” Rio smiled, “don’t speak.” He glanced back at you, you were standing in front of the couch now, watching. “You got any cash on you?”

He nodded

“Great,” Rio said brightly, “let’s see it.”

The guy reached into his pocket and took out his wallet, handing it over to Rio

“Mm...” Rio eyed his ID, memorizing the name and address for later use. “This looks like just enough to cover the cost of repairing the door,” he said, taking out a wad of bills, “and a lil extra for emotional damage.”

Rio threw the wallet back at your ex, who caught it, eyes never leaving the gun in Rio’s hand

“Okay now...” Rio grinned. “Run.”

He didn’t have to say it twice, your ex scurried away so quickly, that he fell half-way down the hall and just crawled into the elevator. If Rio didn’t know any better, he’d say he smelt piss in the hall now...

Rio closed your door, tossing the gun--which was empty--onto his bag on the floor

He turned to you, laughing when you launched yourself into his arms

“Thank you,” you said, your head buried in his chest, “thank you, thank you, thank you--”

“I told you,” he said, smiling down at you, “I got you. And yo, I was thinkin’...” He held up the cash. “...why don’t you use this on some self-defense lessons, just for fun?”

“But what about the door?”

“Ah, baby,” he leaned down, kissing you, “that’s what we got a super for!”

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

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!

Everything Taglist: @encounterthepast @jigsawlover10 @gollyderek @charlylama @realduckvader @whovianayesha @lexxierave@loveintheroyalfamily @fanfictionrecommendations-com @maxslime-blog@songforhema @lucielandss @themadhatter92 @christinawxxx @anabella-baby @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @luminex3 @ashkuuuu @luckysstrikes@carlaangel86 @floralpeaceofmind @dylanobrusso @iaintnofurry @ymariejp@its-my-little-dumpster-fire @mrsjaxtellerfan @holamor @drinix @rhabakoli@stories-you-wont-hear @king4thesirens @leahnicole1219 @evanlys19 @binbons-is-theloml @aikeia @bitch-imma-head-out @witchygagirl@geeksareunique @sparrows-books @nyxxnoxx @justvnash @truly-insatiable

Rio Taglist: @gemini0410 @sweetybuzz25 @glimmerglittergirl @gensneverland @jamielennkeeler

#rio x reader #rio imagine #rio good girls #good girls rio

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youralternantpersonality · 3 years

Text

Hello My Dear Friend

Warning: Talking about Texas (I'm from here, chill bro lol), panic attacks, Phonophobia: the fear of loud sounds.

A/n: Hello! How have yall been? I hope you are okay and are taking self of yourself. I'll be 100% with yall, I guess I just had to get out what was wrong with me because out of nowhere (with the help of medication) I had a need to start writing.

Also, I DID NOT KNOW MY LINKS WERE NOT WORKING! I’m so sorry. I realized the best way to get to my masters list is to go to my description bar. I don't know why it isn't. if you know how to fix it, please let me know!

Anyways, I never put summaries, but here's a little snip—Y/n is best friends (100% platonic) with Jared and will be with Embry. The end. Enjoy!

***

Y/n POV

Finally! I'm finally coming back to the place I grew up at and loved. The place where nature is at every corner. I never thought I would miss the muggy and rainy state. I miss my friends on the Res and the few friends I had in Forks. I especially miss my little brother-from-another-mother, Jared.

Jared and I grew up together on the Reservation. We befriended each other instantly in second grade after making a bet that one of us could eat our rainbow popsicle faster than the other. The winner gets the strawberry scented eraser and a mechanical pencil that the other grabbed from a 3rd grader. Needless to say, I won. Granted, I had a brain freeze, but it was 100% worth it. But now I was on my way back to La Push to finish my Junior year with my friends after leaving in Freshman year.

Pulling up to the house I grew up with, I was welcomed by my grandparents and my aunt Lydia. My grandmother and aunt were already outside washing what looks like something green; I'm assuming she's making collard greens tonight. My grandfather just came from around the side of the house with some more logs to make a fire. As soon as the car is parked, they look up with smiles on their faces, and I jump out to embrace my family.

"Nana, Papa, Aunty!" I say as I run up to them as they get ready for me to embrace them. After Nana had a minor heart attack, Aunt Lydia came to La Push from California to assist her since she was a nurse for the elderly. She eventually moved in with them after she divorced her bastard of a husband. Their marriage is an example of what happens when you don't communicate well with your partner beforehand. Aunt Lydia never wanted kids—she liked them, but she also liked giving them back to their parents. Her ex-husband, Justin, wanted kids. He's always wanted kids, and knowing that she never wanted them, he still tried to sabotage any way for them to get one. Hiding her birth control, poking a hole in the condom, arguing that she'd change her mind eventually. Not understanding that she did not want one. At some point, he claimed he was okay with it, but as soon as they got married, I guess he figured she'd change her mind.

Three years later, she filed for divorce. Not long afterward, she moved back up here; then, when Nana had a heart attack, she moved in with them. It's been a year since all of that happened. She is now dating a man in Forks who already has kids and doesn't want anymore. The kids are in fifth, seventh, and ninth grade, so she's content and happy. They all love her, and she loves them equally, if not more.

"Hey, baby! How's my Ladybug." Nana asked. Ever since I was little, she gave me that name. I was adopted by the Nomalose at two, and the second my Nana came up to me in her kitchen, somehow a Ladybug flew in and landed on my shoulder. Thus, granted me the name Ladybug.

"I'm good, Nana. How are you feeling?" I asked, hugging her as she continued to sit in her chair then moving to my aunt.

"Oh, baby, I'm fine. Always am, and always will be." She says with a smile. So optimistic as always. After greeting everyone as we moved inside, we all sat around to catch up on what has happened since we were gone. Dad had a job transfer in Texas, so we had to pack up and head out. At first, leaving La Push and moving to Dallas was (obviously) terrifying, but I was repulsed by the thought of it. But after a while, it wasn’t too bad. I mean, yes, it's hot as hell, some people are questionable, the pollen is horrific, and the redlining system is as evident as can be. However, I grew to love the heat and get a tan, made some friends, and the food…. oh, the food. What kind of threw me off is that they have to state the Texas flag pledge in class every day. What the absolute fuck.

After finishing up, we head back to the car and head to our home. Grabbing our stuff and unpacking it before the rest of our furniture arrives tomorrow. It's only mid-July (imagine moving in the middle of the summer from Texas to Washington. It was absolute hell), so I take this time to explore the area I once knew and get acquainted with. I plan on calling up some friends before I see my A1, the Jelly time to my Peanut butter, the Tom to my Jerry, the Magenta to my Blue, Jared Cameron. We kind of fell off within the last couple of months, but a little show-and-tell never hurt anyone.

I text some of my old friends I kept in contact with, and we decided to meet up at the beach. I put on my shorts, grab my beach gear, and head out.

"Be back before the streetlights-" mom started,

"-Come on. I know, I know. I'll text you when I'm on my way home." I finished. I kiss my parents and jump in the car to head to First beach. When I arrived, I see my sister-from-another-mister, LaCienega.

"Y/n/n!" She screams, running to me.

"Cien!" I scream back. We hug each other as tightly as possible before laughing like a bunch of crazy women.

"So, you're just going to forget all about us? Well, bitch, fuck you too." I look behind Cien and see her twin brother Javier and our other two friends, Leilani and Damion. I go up to them and hug the absolute shit out of them, and we all head towards the beach. We spent the day laughing, crying, playing soccer, and playing chicken before calling it. I planned on seeing Jared tomorrow but was warned by Leilani.

"Jared isn't Jared anymore, Y/n/n," she says, looking down at her hands with a deflated expression.

"What do you mean?" I asked, looking at everyone else too.

"Did Jared stop talking to you recently?" Javier asked. I nod my head slowly. They looked at one another, and he continued. "He did the same to us too. He randomly disappeared one day, and the next thing we know, he grew a whole foot and a half, gained muscle, got a tattoo, and just ignored us. He started to hand it out with Sam Uley. Now when we see him, he just ignores us and moves on like we are nothing to him." I shake my head. That can't be right; Jared wouldn't be like that—he can hardly ignore starting random shit with people, especially if there's money involved.

"I mean, yeah, he did fall off the face of the earth, but…no. I'm going over there tomorrow. I'll talk to him to see what's up. That just doesn't sound like the Jared I know." I say, packing up.

"Well, if you can get him to talk, ask him for that $20 he owes me. Bastard never paid me back after winning a bet that I could out eat an XL pizza against him." Damion laughs. I nod my head and head to my car. On the way home, I think about what they said. I just can't fathom that Jared would be like that to anyone. It just doesn't sound like him at all.

~~~

The next day, I text the crew that I was on my way to talk to Jared. I decided to surprise him, and because I knew he didn't live too far, I decided to get my steps in and just walk to his place. Once I was there, I knocked on the door, and his mom answered.

"Oh my…Y/n? Is that really you?!" she exclaims with a smile on her face. She instantly pulls me into a hug, and tears swell in her eyes.

"Hi, Mrs. Olivia," I say back as I hug her. She invites me in, and we talk until Jared's sister and dad walk through the door.

"Y/n!" Kaylee, Jared's sister, screams and runs to me. I hug the now 12-year-old girl.

"Hey hon, hi, Mr. Kevin," I say, giving a wave across the room.

"Hey Y/n, how have you been? When did you get in?" he asked.

"I’ve been good. Just settling in. We came in yesterday morning. I came by to see you guys, and I was wondering where Jared was.” His demeanor changed. He cleared his throat and said Jared is with some friends and now isn’t a good time seeing him. He basically rushed me out of the house after that. As I was walking home, I thought it was strange, but I didn’t want to question it…for now.

It was only one in the afternoon, so I decided to walk to the diner not far from his house. I go up to the counter to order something to-go and sit on the barstool. Taking out my phone, I text Cien and Leilani what happened. They found it strange, but they weren’t too shocked by it. When I looked around the small diner, my eye caught a pair of familiar eyes.

“Kim?” she looks at me, and her eyes widen instantly. She gets up from her table and walks over to me and hugs me.

“Holy shit! Y/n?! What are you doing here? When did you get in?” she asked. Kim and I weren’t necessarily “besties,” but we were friends. More like the type to hang out around school, but not so much outside of it.

“Hey! I moved back. Came in yesterday. How have you been?” I asked. Before she could say anything, my food comes out, and she offers a ride to drive me home.

“Oh, you don’t have to. I don’t mind walking.” She looks at me hesitantly,

“Come on, we can talk on the way. Plus, daylight or not, you never know what's lurking.” She says.

“What do you mean?” I ask. She grabs her stuff from the table she was sitting at alone, and we walk towards the door.

“Well, lately, there has been a lot of bear sightings in the area. People coming up missing or dead. And, I just don’t want you to be the next victim.” She says as we head towards my place.

“Damn, so, let me guess, no hiking?” she nods her head.

“Please, please, please! Do. Not. Go. Into. The. Woods. Especially by yourself. The last thing we need is someone going missing again.” She emphasizes. I look at her with shock and just nod my head. At the light, she turns to me. “I’m serious Y/n. I know you have a habit of being a daredevil and taking risks. Don’t do it.” I look back at her with a shocked expression and just nod my head.

“Yeah, okay. I promise.” I say being serious. She nods her head, and we continue onward in silence. When we get home, I tell her bye and head inside. I now want to know what the fuck is going on, and what did I miss?

~~~

The next morning, I try calling up Jared, but I got no response. As I headed to the kitchen, I could hear Mr. Kevin’s voice laughing and talking to my dad in the living room. Heading in that direction, I welcome him then head into the kitchen to make myself some food. Once I was done, I head back to my room and get ready to head to the beach. I overheard Mr. Kevin saying that Jared and “the guys” would be at first beach. So, why not take a trip there for the fuck of it?

I tell my parental guiders that I will with some friends and head to my car. I text Leilani and Cien to meet me up at the beach for a little girl's day out. As I’m setting up, I run into Jacob Black, Embry Call, and Quil Ateara.

“Holy shit! Y/n!?” I turn to see Jake, and I smile at them and wave. We were classmates up until I left. I look at them, and I still see Quil looks like a baby, and Embry has gotten a little cuter, yet awkward and shy, but cute as can be.

“Hey, guys! How are you?!” I say, hugging them. Maybe hugging Embry, a little longer than I probably should’ve. They were a grade younger than me, but I still would hang with them when they were around.

“Not too bad, can’t complain. How about you?” Quil exclaims. Embry just looking at me and giving me butterflies in my damn stomach.

“I’m good. You know, just moving back, living life, trying to not get killed in the process. The usual.” I say, smiling. We talk until the girls come up. I tell them to text me some time—mainly hinting at Embry—and we parted ways. A couple of hours later, the girls head home, and I stay for a little while longer while La Push is still welcoming the sun. Not long afterward, I’m cut from my daydream with loud hoots and hollers. I turn to see who it was, and I can only make out a few of them. One of the girls turns to me and waves at me. I look behind me to see no one, and I slightly wave back, having no idea who she is. She runs up to me, and I see it's Kim.

“Oh, shit. Kim, hey. Sorry, I can't see shit.” She smiles and laughs but brushes it off. She invites me over to play soccer with her friends, and I politely decline. I suck being around new people. She smiles and encourages me, but I hear the voice I’ve been looking for before I could say anything.

“Y/n?” I look up to see Jared. But not the Jared that I remember; this Jared is entirely different. Someone I have never met before in my life. This Jared looks like he belongs on WWE or some shit.

“Jared? Holy shit! You’re fucking huge!” I say, walking towards him. But before I could do anything, he cuts the reunion short.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Hold on. Pause. What the fuck?

“Um, I live here. What’s wrong? Is that a bad thing?” he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“No, I meant here. On the beach. I thought me not replying meant not to contact me or follow me.” I looked at him, shocked. Kim steps in the middle.

“Woah, babe, chill. You guys cool?” I nod my head.

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Was.” What the…

“Woah, what the hell J. Did I do something? What the fuck is your problem? Last time I checked, this was a free beach.” What the hell was his problem? Who is this? This, this is…They were right, Jared has changed.

“Y/n, you shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have come back!”

“Jared, what the hell!?” I walk up to him, confused. I look behind him and see 2 more guys and a female.

“Leave Y/n. Just to make everything clear to you and to all of your friends, leave me alone. Don’t talk to me, don’t text me, don’t contact me. Don’t come to my house to bother my family, and don’t bother my girlfriend. Come on, Kim.” I stood there in shock. Kim looked as puzzled as I did but looked back at me and walked off. I stood there until I felt something fall on my face—a tear. Before I could react cognitively, I go back to my stuff and head home. I honestly felt like my heart has been ripped to pieces.

As I pull up to the house, I run inside and go straight to my room. I sit on my bed and text everyone in the group text what happened and just shower and lay in my bed again. It wasn’t until later that evening that I came out of my room for dinner at my grandparents’ house that I communicated with everyone. Why would Jared act like that? Did he do that with everyone? Is this what everyone was talking about? Something is up. I’m not going to say it's ‘roid-rage, but… I can’t pass up the thought that it might be drugs.

The following week I keep myself busy doing little things and going out with my friends, hanging out with Jake, Quil, and Embry. Mainly attempting to not be bothered about my last interaction with Jared. Coming home from Port Angeles with everyone that evening, my parents are arguing again. I retreat my stuff upstairs and try to silence them out. Ever since I can remember, I’ve always had a horrible reaction when it comes to people screaming at me or arguing with or in front of me. I eventually narrowed it down to a time where I don’t remember before I was adopted. It didn’t help that my parents did it frequently as I grew up. It was worse when I was a kid. Before I would be able to leave and go to Jared’s house, he would calm me down. Now? I have no one. I can't necessarily go to my other friends because they don’t really get how bad it is. Jared is the only one who knows and who has seen the horror.

As much as I try to block it out, nothing is working. I grab my speaker and head to the bathroom to shower, trying to calm my nerves and tune them out. Hoping that they would stop by the time I get out. But I was wrong. It seemed like it has only gotten worse. And when I listened in, it was my fault.

“If you weren’t fucking yelling, she wouldn’t need to hide and turn up the music to block us out!” mom said.

“Why is it MY fault? Like EVERYTHING ELSE! Jesus! I told you to stop when the car pulled up! BUT NO! YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO HAVE THE LAST FUCKING WORD!” Dad said. And it was just like that back and forth. I slide down the back of my door and put in my headphones while trying to even my breath. Attempting to not have a panic attack. But it seemed as if the more I try, the louder they got. The louder they got, the more I cried. I couldn’t take it. I threw my headphones on the bed, grabbed my coat, put on my sneakers, and ran past my parents and out of the house. Even as I’m running away, I can hear them yelling about how I’m now leaving. It’s times like these that make me wonder why I can’t be normal.

Not realizing where I’m going, I just run. No stopping, no looking back, not thinking, just running. I don’t come back to the realization until I am in front of Jared’s driveway. I stop, thinking back on his hurtful words that I start panicking and running away from his home. Mindlessly running away, I trip and fall from a tree root sticking out of the ground. I look at my surroundings and notice that I somehow ended up in the forest. Confused and unsure, I look for a sign of familiarity, and I can’t find anything. Trying to not put myself in an even more state of panic, I take multiple deep breaths and calmly walk back into the opposite direction I tripped. But after a little while later, I notice I was lost even more. The sun is setting quickly, and I have no idea where I’m at.

Panic starts rising as I try to calmly and carefully walk out of the woods. I reach for my phone only to discover that I don’t have it. I either left it at home or dropped it when I fell. I stop by a nearby tree and just try to relax. But of course, life likes to go against me and scare the shit out of me. It wasn’t a second later that I heard the crunching of leaves and a branch snapping. I looked around me and didn’t see anyone. The rustling of the branches above me had me look up and saw nothing. But it was the figure in front of me that scared the living shit out of me.

In front of me stood an average height woman with chopped short black hair; she was skinny, pale skin, and beautiful. But what was creepy was the red eyes. I was so shocked by her appearance that I didn’t notice the man next to me. He towered over me. He looked six-feet, with silver blond hair, pale as the woman, and blood-red eyes.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here, Vanity. A little pet, I see.” The man says, stepping towards me.

“I see. Awe, she looks so adorable! I just want to eat her up! Can we keep her Leo!?” the female, Vanity, said. She gets a disapproving look from Leo, who turns to me, and the next thing I know, I’m up against the tree with this hand around my neck. This, by no means, is helping with my anxiety. I froze, unsure what to do.

“This is interesting, no fight back.” Leo says, “Well, where’s the fun in that?” he snarls. He throws me across the forest. I land on my shoulder and scream out in pain. “Run.” Is all he says before I get up and take off. I run as fast as I could while screaming for help. Hoping anyone is out there and available to rescue me from this hell.

“SOMEONE, PLEASE! HELP ME! HELP!” I yell, running as fast as my legs could carry me. If there's one thing I’m grateful for, it's being thankful for having the gift of balance. Without it, I would have tripped and fallen by now. I hear laughter above me, and as I look up, I see Vanity and Leo jumping from tree to tree, terrorizing me more. Nightfall has hit, and I can't see shit. I turn in another direction to get away from them, only to enter into an open field. I run across this little open area only to be cut off by Vanity on one side and Leo on the other.

“Now! We’re having fun. Right baby!?” Leo screams to her.

“Son of a bitch! What are you guys!? Please don’t hurt me!” I say, tears coming from my eyes.

“Well, since you asked so nicely. We’ll make it quick, hon.” Vanity says. She shoves me to the ground and moves my head to the side, but I hear a growl from across the field before she could do anything else. We all turn to look, and I see wolves. Giant wolves. What the living fuck is going on? A more enormous black wolf is leading two more of them, looking at us.

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here. I thought you guys died off.” Vanity says, turning to Leo, “The game just got interesting.”

“Game? What game? I don’t want to play.” I said in a quivering voice. One of the wolves looked at me; the one next to him stares back at him, then at me.

“Seems to me that one of them recognizes our little friend here, Leo.” The bitch pops my shoulder out of place, making me scream out in pain, begging them to let me go. The wolves growl and take a step closer.

“Gotta catch us to get her,” Leo says. Next thing I know, I’m tossed over his shoulder, and we’re taking off into the deep dark forest. Before I can react, I find myself moving at an inhuman speed. My mind catches up with my voice, and all I can do is scream.

“Let me go!” I yell to someone. I look up to see the wolves right on their tail. A second later, I'm being tossed in the air, and I was caught by Vanity.

“What the fuck! Please! Don’t kill me! Please!” they ignore my plea, and she starts jumping up from tree to tree along with Leo. She tosses me again, and I barely land in Leo’s arms. At this point, I'm crying. I have no idea what’s going on technically. Wolves are chasing us. I feel sick to my stomach. I just want to go home. I turn to look behind Leo and see a wolf right upon him. He senses it and tosses me to Vanity. She catches me, and I look ahead. We are coming up on a clearing, I recognize. It’s the cliff.

“NO! NO! NO! I CAN'T SWIM! I CAN'T SWIM! HELP! HELP!” Those were my last words before I’m thrown over the cliff and into the pacific. Everything slowed down at that point. I looked back and saw Vanity diving after me, and behind her, I saw one of the wolves looking at me, and before I hit the water, it howled, and I blacked out.

Part 1: Hello My Dear Friend

Part 2: Goodbye My Dear Friend

Part 3: Welcome My Dear Friend

Part 4: Why My Dear Friend

Part 5: End My Dear Friend

Request Open!

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abdlgossipblog · 1 day

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“No, baby, you weren’t misled into feeling attraction, because sexual attraction isn’t SOLELY based on genitals.”

What you just described is called being pansexual. That is not being heterosexual. I am a heterosexual woman. I know that I am a heterosexual woman and not a pansexual woman or a gay woman because under no circumstance would I ever be sexually intimate or romantic with anyone who didn’t have a dick. I could go on a date with a man who had the face of Orlando Bloom, the wallet of Elon Musk and the schlong size of Ron Jeremy and if i found out the same man had a vagina between his legs all the attraction I had is immediately gone. You can find someone physically or emotionally attractive and still not have romantic or sexual interest in them. I see beautiful women all the time and I understand why people of other sexual orientation find them attractive and I can recognize they are attractive but that doesn’t mean I want to fuck them. Something in my brain immediately tells me “Gross. I don’t want to be romantic or intimate with this person”. As soon as I know they do not contain my preferred genitalia. I cannot help that. I cannot help who and what i am attracted to and I shouldn’t be made to feel bad or be called transphobic to responding to my neurological instincts.

So yes, I understand his feeling of feeling deceived and upset if he is 100% straight. Of course that does not give him the right to post about it and air it out like he did, that’s where he fucked up and I agree that he’s a dick for that. It could’ve and should’ve been handled privately.

But please remember that heterosexual people can and do lose all attraction if they were to find out their potential partner has genitalia they are not attracted too. Saying otherwise paints as us pansexual and that’s just not accurate.

Here’s the full story to my knowledge though. Mckayla and bear talked/“dated” online for a few weeks. When Mckayla felt like the relationship/situationship wasn’t right anymore she broke it off with him. That really upset him and because she didn’t want to be with him anymore he decided he would share that he thought she was trans and was lying to him about being so. I really don’t know if she ever came out and told him that she was, but after only a few short weeks she already felt it wasn’t going to work out so why would she if she hadn’t come out to anyone else in the community? From there theabdaycare said “she lied to me about being trans” and “I knew you were a man, I’m bi just tell me” about her publically on his story.

So yeah if they were going to be intimate she should have disclosed that to him and I’m sure she would have. But it never even got close to that point. He’s in the wrong.

#mckaylaabdl #theabd_production

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alatismeni-theitsa · 3 years

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Hi, I'm just curious. Were LGBT communities accepted in ancient Greece based on certain elements of Greek mythology, like some of the gods having lovers of both genders?

Disclaimers: This is a very broad summary and many cases haven't been covered, so I encourage you to search on your own. Google Scholar has many scientific papers on different subjects and I think you should take a look there. Read many papers so you get a better idea of the situation, and understand the biases of the authors.

It's generally very difficult to explain ancient concepts with the terminology we have today. If you got confused by terminology here feel free to ask what I meant. I didn't intend any harm to readers of this post. This is how some terms seem more appropriate to me as a Greek speaker.

Onto my own short answer:

Well "accepted" is a big word and very different of what most users in this site would think as "accepted". It wasn't such a serious "sin" but it was generally looked down upon, from the records we have today. (Remember, these were the societies that at large thought women shouldn't express their sexual desires if thought to even have any). At the same time it was known that such couples existed, but they couldn't get married or say this is my "life long partner" or something.

It's very possible queer couples were living happily "under the radar" or people around them looked the other way. In fact, I'd say the societies had (socially and on a superficial, formal level) crossed out queer couples so much that even if you went on a date or slept with someone "you shouldn't", it would people would think "aaah just two women having dinner in the tavern" or "two women sleeping together. Nothing can possibly happen. Women don't have sex with women anyways." Holding hands and hugging a lot between people wasn't something seen as inherently sexual, between people of the same sex (or perceived to be of the same sex). Women and men were quite segregated back then, largely working in their own domains, so lgbt+ didn't have many outsiders to judge them. The other members didn't know the ins and outs of how things worked in the opposite side of the social world, so it would be easy to fool a bunch of old women with "eh you know that's what we do in the army, you just have to sleep very close to each other!"

But given how much smaller societies were then, how little education people had, and how statistically unlikely was for someone to be queer in a village of 100 people, it would still make that person seem "odd" in most settings in "ancient Greece". I wouldn't want to try and go back at that time, to be honest with you.

In Classical Athens - and I suspect in most of cities, marriage was something done "for the good of the city" and not yours, anyways. So you could marry someone of the opposite sex because that's what the society wanted, and then chose another lover in secret.

I don't think trans folks were very "accepted", I have yet to find a text that says "this thing also happens in mythology with so and so god so we must accept it". There might have been efforts to explain things about the lgbt+ people through myths, but given that trans people are rarer than homosexuals (at least with the studies we have now) the acceptance wouldn't be bigger than this of the homosexual couples.

If trans people managed to hide their dysphoria or will to transition (something extremely difficult for many, I know) and only exhibited "opposite sex" behaviors they could still seem "odd" unfortunately. But bio women could be seen as, what we say a "tomboy" and bio men as "eh he likes doing [effeminate thing of the time] , but but he is a good lad". Of course that doesn't cover the struggle of being trans in those ancient societies, I am just saying how outsiders would perceive them. We know of some other societies around the world recognizing different genders and sexual identities as valid and celebrated, but we don't have such records from the Greek antiquity.

For people on the ace spectrum, they were affected by the fact that they were required to have sex and that's bad on its own.

Other lgbt+ (and cis and/or hetero, tbf) people also faced this struggle through the requirement of marriage to someone they weren't attracted to (and "rape" didn't even exist inside marriage for the ancient laws 😢). The city and the society didn't care much about your attraction - you were bound to the laws of your sex back then, no matter how you felt. We have mentions of lgbt+ folks and that means it wasn't all extremely bad and ominous then, but recognition doesn't necessarily mean acceptance, as "I can safely express myself".

Some people stayed single, but for women it was infinity more difficult to do such a thing.

Modern day Greece is relatively bad to be lgbt+ but still I would rather stay here than some period of the Greek antiquity.

For other identities, I don't think I can cover much.

As always, people, reblog and add stuff if you like! If you want to recommend some readings feel free to do so!

I have a tag lgbt+ in Greece and there are some sources there for antiquity, I think.

+Please, don't bugger me about terminology, we all know it changes every five years anyway - and not even in my country most of the time. Not all of us should be bound to Anglophone and US American expressions.

Plus, being considered heterosexual (or "cis") in ancient Greece was about biological sex, and that's why I focus so much on it. And I don't want to call people "males" and "females" and that why I used bio women and bio men.

#answered

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touchstarvedsam · 3 years

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hi. i am sending this on anon because i want to talk and not to bring anon hate on myself immediately. i am literally from the other side of the fandom, i have no idea how your post ended up on my dash. but i am literally curious, so i want to ask you a couple of questions, you obviously don't have to answer at all, your choice. 1/

"they complain about misogyny and then go and refer to Sam’s wife as a walking uterus." isn't it an issue though? she is never introduced, we aren't even shown her face. this is a new character in a 15 year old show, introduced only for the purpose of being The Mother to the protagonist child. what they did is misogynistic enough, she has no name, no face - us laughing about it is not misogynistic because we are laughing about what they did which is insane. that is how i see it. they introduce2/

"Pay attention when Dean blatantly says “I don’t swing that way,”" and the rest of what you said in that paragraph ok i know i am on anon but are you. are you sure that when someone says this. this is always true. i know numerous peoplei, i am one of those people myself who were in such denial and told so many lies about themselves when it comes to sexuality and sorry but Dean makes an impression of some who would be in denial about many things but okay this is in headcanon territory 4/

this is in headcanon territory and everyone can have their own headcanon so why do you have such problem with people headcanoning him as bi "And besides that... the way they portray Dean in fics? They feminize the everliving fuck out of him, to the point that the character they’re writing isn’t even Dean. Like, in any way, shape, or form. "this is one of the things i can actually 100% agree with because Dean in fics is often feminized yes, it is usually ooc, yes, though if we are talking 5/

okay :* i know i didn't click anon on one of them because i am not used to sending anons but i did explain why i wanted them on anon in the first place - i have enough anon hate on the daily basis. i am counting on you to answer me or just leave it but still i think my asks weren't hateful. i am genuinely curious. and how did they ended up on my dash is a mystery for both of us

So, tumblr ate at least TWO of your asks, which tumblr does if you send too many sometimes. I’m just curious why it gave you a character limit? Tumblr lets me post long asks now and separate them by paragraphs, lol. But anyway. Ask number 3 and whatever is after ask number 5 is missing. But I’ll go with what I’ve got.

The one marked as number 5 is the one that bothered me first because I actually covered it in my post to which you’re referring.

Your question: this is in headcanon territory and everyone can have their own headcanon so why do you have such problem with people headcanoning him as bi

What my post said, a direct quote so you don’t think I’m cursing at you specifically: Like, whatever, you can headcanon a character whatever way you want. Write them however the fuck you want in fanfiction. But for the love of god, respect the actual fucking canon.

My point was Dean is straight in canon and people should respect that instead of forcing their headcanons down everyone’s throats. I headcanon Sam as demisexual. But is he in the show? No, he’s canonically straight. Does that sway my headcanons and keep me from enjoying the show the way I want? No. Do I shout that to anyone that will listen and try to get them to share my beliefs? No. That is the difference between canon and headcanon, and respectful fans and disrespectful fans. Too many people refuse to acknowledge that Dean is canonically straight because of the color of a flannel he wore, or strobe lights he’s standing in front of a bar, or the fact that a diner was out of pie and he had to eat a slice of cake instead. I am not kidding, those are reasons people have considered him bi. That is harmful to actual bisexual people like myself.

Now, in response to ask number 4: Dean is comfortable in his sexuality. If he was bi and was closeted, or hating himself for being bi, or in denial about it, do you think he would be so comfortable around gay people? He would most likely be repressing his sexuality so hard that he would come off as standoffish or lashing out at gay people because they are what he dislikes about himself. He wouldn’t be as comfortable as he was with the gay characters he did spend time with. He’s not hiding anything. He’s completely open. His dating profile says Interested In: Women, not Men and Women. If they wanted Dean to be bi, or give a nod to it, they would have said it in that tiny scene. Supernatural hasn’t queerbaited anyone, so the majority of the audience didn’t even see a possibility for Dean to be bisexual, because there wasn’t any subtext for it.

Ask number 2 (I don’t know why I’m going backwards, I’m a whole mess):

While I didn’t think the blurry wife was the best idea, I liked that Jared said that the intention was for Sam’s partner to be whoever we want them to be. They left it open because it wasn’t about Sam starting a family without Dean; it was about Sam’s half-life after he lost his most important person, and the buildup to when they would finally meet again. So they left the blurry person open to interpretation, just that they were not Eileen. You can laugh about it all you want, but calling the person a walking uterus is disgusting as fuck. Supernatural as a whole has been a pretty misogynistic show sometimes, not just to women, but to Sam who they have woman-coded throughout the show. So.

That’s my take. I hope I was respectful enough for you. Like I said, I don’t care what you headcanon, but when a character, the actor, and the creators specifically state that the character is straight, I suggest you pay attention to that. Don’t let it ruin your experience or your headcanons because that ruins all the fun, but also don’t disrespect the writers by denying what they have stated.

Have a nice night.

#anti destihellers #anti destiel #dean is straight #anon #kiri answers asks

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thegardenofbae · 3 years

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Hey. Hope you're doing well.

(TW Sexual Assault). You don't have to answer if this is uncomfortable for you.

So I've been struggling with embracing my sexuality and femininity and really showing up for myself guven my history with SA. Do you have any tips for women like me on how to love myself and feel safe within myself to explore all these facets of who I am or can be as a woman? I'd also like to know dating tips cause I really don't put myself out there for safety reasons...

Thanks in advance if you do answer. Have a lovely day/night.

First of all, I want you to know you are loved. If nobody else has told you today, I love you ♡

Secondly, I am not a psychiatrist or a therapist, so what I’m saying isn’t clinically proven-- I’m just speaking from personal experience.

Before you start on your journey to loving yourself and embracing your femininity, you have to understand that what happened to you in the past was 100% not your fault. Release yourself from whatever guilt you might have been holding on to. Freeing yourself from the shackles of guilt attached to assault frees up space in your mind, body, and spirit to start changing yourself for the better.

I’d say start easing into your femininity. Do what feels right for you. That might be embracing new more traditionally feminine activities like getting your hair and nails done, going shopping, baking, painting, etc...

Also, get to know yourself outside of the guilt you feel from your past. Who is the woman you want to be? What do you want out of life? What does femininity look like for you, in your life?

Once you become comfortable stepping into your femininity, I would start dating, but stick to your boundaries. Let potential partners know what you are and are not willing to do, and stick to do that. Make sure you know what you want. I wish that people weren’t as nefarious as they are, but you can never be to sure. First dates (even second or thirds) shouldn’t be held at home. Be in a VERY public space. Drive yourself to the agreed date (or take an uber). Watch your drinks. Carry some kind of protection with you (pepper spray-- the ones that stain the skin and can’t be taken off unless you go to the hospital is prefered, taser, alarm, knife, a small gun if you have your concealed carry license)

I hope this was helpful for you, my love. You are strong, you are a wonderful person, and you are deserving of a beautiful and full life.

Sending you lots of love ♡

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avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

Running to a Standstill - 2

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 2342

Rating: E

Square filled: None for this chapter

Warnings: none

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers. While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 2

Steve had expected to meet you out somewhere casual. He hadn’t really been thinking about this as a date-date. More a casual meeting to try and get to the bottom of what you were hiding from. He’d agreed to let Natasha and Clint organize the venue and convince you to meet him there because they knew you better. He’d been given the address and name of the restaurant and he’d dressed in his usual casual wear of a blue button-down and tan slacks and when he’d shown up, he suddenly felt very underdressed.

The restaurant was lined in hardwood, and decorated with pots of fresh herbs and copper cookware, giving it a rustic farm feel, but the floor to ceiling wine racks that took up three walls and the fact most of the guests were wearing suits or cocktail dresses said that it was anything but homey.

He arrived before you and was taken to a booth table under some wine barrels, that’s boxed seats were covered in cushions. He was just looking over the menu of items - some of which he’d never even heard of before and all had prices that made him glad for the 60 years of back pay the army had owed him - when you arrived. You were wearing a champagne cocktail dress with a gold lace overlay and around your shoulders you had a red wool shawl.

Steve stood and greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, waiting for you to sit before he did too. “You look beautiful,” he said. He realized that it probably sounded ingenuine - the kind of thing you just say to someone on a first date - but he meant it. He’d thought you were attractive the day he met you, even in the hoodie and jeans that were stained with grass and had a patch where it looked like either you or Geo had dropped ice cream. Tonight you looked stunning. The dress was flattering to your figure and you looked radiant with your hair and makeup done for a night out. Mostly he loved the way you smiled. You seemed excited to be out on this date with him, though a little nervous.

“Thank you,” you said. “I can’t even remember when I last went out on a date. I was surprised when Natasha said you were interested. So I wanted to make the effort. Who knows when I will get to again?”

“Hopefully it won’t be that long,” Steve said genuinely. Not exactly meaning that it would be him that took you out, but realizing that’s exactly how it sounded when you smiled and picked up your menu like you were trying to hide how excited you were.

Natasha and Clint had obviously made you think this was a real date and even though he hadn’t come here tonight thinking the same thing, he decided that he should treat it the same way. Besides, maybe Clint and Natasha knew something he didn’t and the two of you might be a good match. Maybe you’d be able to distract him from his crush on Bucky that was never going to go anywhere at the very least.

A waiter came over to take your drink orders and with a little discussion, the two of you decided to share a bottle of Merlot.

“So you haven’t been out with anyone for a long time?” Steve asked as he browsed the menu.

You shook your head and looked up at him over your menu. “Not since before Geo was born. I bet you date a lot.”

He shook his head. “You know,” he said. “I think this might be my first real one. I mean… don’t get me wrong, I’ve had relationships, but they always came out of my work and we never made it to the dating part.”

“Wow, no wonder you picked this,” you said. “Of course you’d want to make it special.”

“Oh,” he said. “This was Clint and Nat. I guess they’re playing match-maker.”

You laughed. “This is so not a Clint and Nat place.”

“No,” he chuckled. “Well, maybe Nat, but she’d be working an angle.”

You laughed and the waiter returned with the wine. He poured a small amount for Steve to try. He had no idea what made a wine good or not, so when it didn’t taste like vinegar Steve gave a small nod and the waiter topped off both glasses. He took both your orders. Steve went with a dish that had ham, mozzarella, and truffles, followed by a steak because at least he recognized what they were. You were a little more daring ordering spugnole as a starter, followed by tagliatelle.

“So why don’t you date?” You asked, taking a sip of the wine.

Steve let out a breath and shook his head. “Time mostly. Never had the time to actually date,” he explained. “But it’s not only that.”

You put your hand on his and smiled softly. “What else is it?”

“I’ll tell you what,” Steve said, giving your hand a small squeeze. “I’ll tell you my story and you tell me yours.”

You seemed to mull the question over for a moment. “I’m worried that if you know, that will attract their attention.”

“You know that doesn’t make any sense don’t you?” Steve reasoned.

“Maybe. But,” you said taking your hand away. “This is the longest we’ve ever managed to stay in the same place. I’m expecting them any moment and if you decide to try and find them, then they’ll know it’s because of him.”

“We can keep you safe. And Geo. It’s what we do,” he said.

You let out a breath. “You go first.”

The waiter came out with the starters and when he left again, Steve took a bite of ham and chewed it slowly, focusing on the smokey, salty taste.

“Are you avoiding?” You asked as you collected some mushrooms onto your fork.

“Maybe a little,” he said. “I guess there’s a lot of factors. I don’t know how much you know about my past but I wasn’t always this. I was small. Really small. And sick. I had a long list of medical issues. I was bullied a lot. No one really looked at me as a possible romantic partner. And I suppose I did go on dates back then, but they were double dates Bucky organized and there was always this supreme look of disappointment on the face of the woman he brought them to meet me. Like they expected me to look like him. I was a letdown. I think it affected me in a lot of ways. When women look at me now - like …’

“...They used to look at Bucky?” You suggested.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “That. Well, I can’t help but think about back then. And then I wonder if they like me for me. I need time to get to know people and that doesn’t work out in the real world. Only with people in mine and then work gets in the way. Plus…”

He stopped talking and considered if he had it in him to admit this last piece. The bit about how he had feelings for his best friend. He hadn’t admitted that to anyone. Not Bucky. Not Nat. Not even Sam. He had said he’d tell you his if you told you yours, and it was only fair to keep his side of the bargain if he wanted you to do the same.

“I have had a crush on Bucky for a very, very long time,” he said.

“Oh my god,” you said, dropping your jaw. “Does he know?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I didn’t want to make him feel awkward. He was always a real ladies man. And now… he’s healing and I doubt his sexuality has changed,” Steve explained. “And please know -” he reached over the table and touched your hand again. “I like women too. The relationships I’ve had have been with women. It’s just… you know?”

“No,” you said. “I mean, yes. I get it. It’s okay. I know how you feel.”

He let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “So… it’s unrequited. But I think I do a lot of comparing people to him, which isn’t healthy. A couple of people have made the cut, but in the end, things weren’t meant to be. So maybe I’m not supposed to have that. Which I guess is another thing. I once had someone tell me that I was nothing if I couldn’t be a soldier. And I think it got to me. This here -” he gestured around him. “- is a level of normal that I don't often allow myself to have.”

You nodded and took a drink from your wine. Not a small one either. You swallowed the dark liquid like it was water and when the glass was drained you filled it again. “You didn't hold back did you?”

“I said I'd tell you mine if you told me yours,” Steve said.

You nodded and leaned back against the back of the booth. “Yes. I suppose you did,” you agreed. “It’s long.”

Steve shrugged. “For once, I have time.”

“When I went to college, I did lots of stupid little things for money. I sold blood. I tutored high school kids. Just any little thing to give me some money to cover my bills. One day the biology department had these posters up for an experiment. It paid a lot. You got $100 if you were accepted. And if you made it to the end they'd give you $7500. So I signed up. I figured that whatever they were doing was probably safe if it had gotten to the human trial stage,” you explained. Steve couldn't exactly criticize your reasoning. He'd signed up for some pretty extensive human experimentation himself.

“I was accepted and once a week I'd go in with a group of about thirty other people and we’d have some injections and then we’d be tested. It was a little odd. The injections were painful and the tests were strange. They'd ask us to try and reprogram a computer. Then try and guess what cards they were holding up. We’d go on a treadmill for a bit and lift some heavyweights. Then we'd be sent home,” you explained. “I made friends with most of the other people but I also met the man I'd end up marrying.”

You stopped talking when the waiter approached and cleared away your plates and didn't start again until he'd bought out the entrees. Steve waited patiently. He knew there was no point in rushing the story. “After about six weeks things started to happen. John, my husband was running much faster than should be possible. And I was guessing every single card correctly. It never lasted. By the following day we were back to normal, but every time we had an injection it was more. By the end of the experiment, I'd get those shots and be able to hear every single thought of every person in the building. Even the ones people don't want you to hear. The intrusive thoughts you don’t even want to be having. John could run at the speed of light.”

You drained your glass again and topped it off again and Steve leaned over and took your hand. “What happened?”

“Project got canceled and we were told we were free to go. We got paid our money,” you answered. “Only one day I heard… In my mind… These people… I think they were government agents, coming to take us. The injection hadn't completely worn off yet. I told John and he packed a backpack, scooped me up into his arms and we ran.

“It was fine for a while. We changed our identities. Got cash-in-hand work. No one came for us. Then I got pregnant and when Geo was born the equipment went haywire. When he cried it broke every machine on the floor cried along with him. They wanted to keep him there to be tested but we knew what would happen so we ran again. Only those people found us. They killed John. I got away. But I've been running ever since.”

“Do you know who they were?” Steve asked.

You shook your head. “I have no idea. They never thought of anything that linked them to an organization. Just things that made them seem like authority figures. Official. You know?”

Steve nodded. “I understand.”

“If they're official, like the CIA you can't help me,” you said with pain in your voice. “You're a private militia. You have no authority.”

“I see my role in this world as exactly the person who steps in when the government is mistreating its people,” Steve said. “I promise. We won't let anything happen to you or your son.”

You nodded and seemed to make yourself smaller. “I wish I could believe that.”

“You can trust me,” Steve said. When you didn't say anything Steve caressed the back of your hand with his thumb. “Do you know what Geo’s powers are?”

“I think they call it technopathy,” you explained. “He has an affinity with machines. Sometimes he can even communicate with them. It’s come in handy actually. I don't like using him like that but he can make ATMs give us money. Change car titles to our name in the system. Have our names changed. Erase record of us. In emergencies, it has helped us get away.”

“He would love meeting Tony,” Steve said. “Maybe the two of you should move to the tower for a while.”

You shook your head fervently, “No. No. Too high profile. I feel safe where I am. Clint and Nat keep it safe and it's just some apartment block. No one looks twice at it.”

Steve nodded and drained the last of his wine. There was a lot to process and a lot of work to do. He'd need to find out who was after you first and foremost. He just wished there was a way he could convince you the safest place you could be was under his watch.

// NEXT

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