#maybelline really came through for me
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Working in child care on comic relief can sometimes have its perks. Thought drawing a red nose might be a bit much
#to say I don’t own a lot of red I really represented#although I think red does suit me#maybe I should just go with it#tell me why that lipstick stayed on all day#maybelline really came through for me#me#self#selfie
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Self Rec Tag Game
tagged by the wonderful @hello-eeveev!!
Rules: Share five of your own fanworks (fic, art, etc.). Then, tag five more people to share the things they've made.
1.something you absolutely adore
a winter's crest detour [mature, caleb/essek]
the idea for this fic actually went through two different fandoms before coming to light in critical role. i'd signed up for a christmas hallmark movie prompt thing and sadly didn't get my pick, so i left cause i got unreasonably attached to this one idea and so it came with me as i moved into another fandom where about 10k got written before the muse abandoned me until shadowgast ate my life and here we are. its probably the most self indulgent fic i've ever written, purely created for moi and i love it, bonus other people seemed to like it too! woo!
2. something that was challenging to create
the edge of the blade [teen, caleb/essek]
a full YEAR in the making, this is my biggest, longest, most EVERYTHING fic. i love it, i had so much fun writing it but boy was it hard work. the time, the energy that went into this. i really challenged myself to dig deep for essek's emotions and insecurities and i'm really proud of how it turned out. i definitely improved as a writer because of the challenges this fic liked to throw at me
3. something that makes you laugh (or smile, if that fits more comfortably)
long may they reign chapter 3 [gen, caleb/essek]
not gonna lie this is one of my comfort fics that i re-read of my things that always makes me feel better. i love the dynamic of being so comfortable and in love that the simplest acts of affection become automatic and the realisation of those acts can lead to a deeper sense and understanding of that love. i'm a sucker for the old married couple troupe.
4. something that surprised you (in how it turned out, how much other people liked it, etc.)
keep me warm [explicit, caleb/essek]
listen i am not a smut writer, it is not one of my strengths, it's very difficult for me and even the smallest scene requires days/weeks/months of writing cause i just struggle with it so damn much, (maybe she's (gnc) born with it, maybe its maybelline the aroace of it all). the idea for this fic just grabbed me by the throat and wouldn't let go so i put word to document and it actually came out alright, i was pleasantly surprised that i actually managed to put what was in my head into the fic in a very good way so very proud of myself for it
5. something you want other people to see
act i. the interloper [gen, caleb/essek]
ok ok ok i know i haven't finished parts 2 and 3 yet, YET! but i love how this series is shaping up even though it has grown beyond the teeny tiny wee fun little three part fluff ball it was meant to be into something so big and with feelings, think fluff ball the size of one of those stupidly big plastic tourist attractions they've got out in america. i love looking into old courting practices and seeing what would fit and connect with the culture of the drow and just being able to explore different aspects of their relationship and the important moments to them as well. part three especially has me a little teary cause its gonna be so gosh darn sweet so yeah, stay tuned i am writing it, its just bigger than originally designed lol
tag you're it: @aithilin, @mollymawkwrites, @ruvigapo, @mardyart, @glossolali mwah! show off your goods and wares darlings!!
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482. Seventeen Magazine, March 1996
(see also: 1994, 1995)
Two things that are sightly upsetting: 1. I barely remember looking through this issue when I was 12. 2. I had to pay $30 for this issue off eBay.
Unfortunately, the Tendrecils line from Lancome is discontinued. Doesn't stop me from misreading it as "tendrils" though.
Does Kate know what magazine she's reading. This was Seventeen in 1995/1996, not 'Teen. 'Teen was the girly magazine back then. I don't know about Y/M, never read that one.
Those Hush Puppies the girl in blue is wearing.
South Coast Today [archive]
A similar green pair with laces seemed to be everywhere in my magazines for a brief time in 1996. I never saw anybody wearing 'em though. Never saw them at Kinney. I don't see 'em on eBay either, Joel sold 6,000 pairs at his store in 1995, wherearethey. 1
'Y'all know Cover Girl still makes this?!
Remember this beautiful "great" packaging Maybelline had. If I had money to throw around to collect old makeup, this would definitely be in the collection.
The fuzzy trim dress was a classic prom dress (or, at least the teen magazines made it seem that way) for the mid to late 90s.
Anna's dress is #1. I love the short sequin Hawaiian print dress. That is 1996.
There's those black and white dresses again! The Chanteuse girls will kick all of our butts.
I saw a lot more of these pastel dresses in my 1997 issues, which sadly yes, I'm trying to find on eBay right now. No luck.
If I was allowed to have makeup back then, you better believe I would have worn this look at school the next day.
I honestly had no clue that self tanner was a thing yet, or maybe just a thing that was sold at like, Saks in the glass case.
Slick straight hair. That was the thing. I had hair down to my waist back then so suffice to say I was not sporting this look
I used to get my Sanrio stuff from the My Doll and Toy Shoppe in downtown Hampton, Virginia. If you said the name of the store quick, it almost sounded like "MIDOL toy shop".
Every time I would see this ad for Kaepa shoes, naive 12 year old me thought "oh my god is that girl going to burn her school down?"
I had that lava lamp keychain and the 8 ball! I used to get them from either Claire's or Spencers. I had a Cracker Jack keychain too around this time that will just randomly show up in my dreams.
Did people really have scanners to scan in their handwriting back then? I imagine they were a small fortune back then. I tried doing some research on this software, but nothing came up.
Mickey was still stuck in 1995.
Oh, these were SO GOOD in the waining days of the low fat craze.
I remember when the Backstreet Boys got real big when I was in high school, I thought back to the ad and wondered "wait, haven't they been around for a while?" In 1996, they didn't even have an album in the U.S. yet.
"our internet address is.."
Some of these look more like pageant dresses.
I adore all the short dresses in this issue.
Is this a freshman dance? They look like freshmen.
Sharon Stone is a not-g0ing-to-prom icon.
Man, what happened to Finesse? It's like once 2000 hit, it became bottom shelf stuff.
There's always one dress that makes me sad in the prom issues, and I think it's this one. It looks so ... mature.
School Zone time, real pics of real kids from a school in Las Vegas:
The shiny, silky shirts!
These are the only two things I remember from this issue when I was 12: MaryBeth's amazing outfit--I wanted it so bad--and Jennaia's cat shirt.
A baby Tobey Maguire.
Baby Eliza Dushku. Did anybody else other than me think it was totally the norm for a guy to want to wear a bright tuxedo like this to prom?
I wish my scanner app on my phone got a better picture of this amazing Betsey Johnson dress Kathleen Robertson is wearing.
ok, a lot going on here on page 230.
-When I was attending Mary Baldwin College, there was this really cheezy store downtown that sold mostly cutesy poo gag gifts. Very cringe store. I'm sure if that store existed in 1996, they would have sold PMS Crunch.
-We're still in the waining days of the low fat craze here, so here are some "healthy" chips. Garden of Eatin' is still around! I think Guiltless Gourmet went out of business?
-I want to see photos and or footage of the Creamette Pasta Party at Tavern on the Green. All I I found was a blip on the New York Times:
On Saturday, about 17,000 carbo-loaders at the annual pre-marathon pasta party at Tavern on the Green will dig into five dishes created by New Yorkers, one from each borough. The dishes were the winners in a contest sponsored by Creamette pasta. The judges included as many weathermen (Storm Field and Mr. G) and sportswriters (David Kaplan of The Daily News) as food experts (Patrick Clark, Bob Lape and Robin Leach).
The meals, which will be served from 4:30 to 8:30 P.M., are free to runners in the New York City Marathon, which will be held on Sunday. The dishes are: baked ziti and vegetables by Martha Katzeff of the Bronx, rigatoni with beef and cheese by Mike Boyd of Brooklyn, spinach-rotini toss by Barbara Shields of Staten Island, creamy macaroni and basil salad by Karin Mackin of Queens and sweet nutmeg kugel by Diane Girer of Manhattan. All the recipes are by runners. 2
Remember when these Y-Necklaces were popular for about a minute?
1.Parnes, Francine . “Old Dog Trots Out in Trendy Places.” New Bedford Standard-Times, December 25, 1995. https://www.southcoasttoday.com/story/news/1995/12/26/old-dog-trots-out-in/50652285007/.
2.Fabricant, Florence. “Food Notes.” The New York Times, November 8, 1995, sec. Home & Garden. https://www.nytimes.com/1995/11/08/garden/food-notes-021709.html.
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Nah, man, sorry to say that but your mom is straight up blind. That dark lipstick goes super well with your dark hair and light complex. Don’t listen to your mother, and be proud of that fancy and great look you got there! 💅✨
THANK YOU because, ok, there are multiple reasons I'm kind of overly pissed lol. For one, personal opinions aside, it's like critiquing the main core of the idea? It's like, idk, going to a Glass Animals concert and saying "it would have been better without the stoner music" like girl thats the point? Am i phrasing this correctly 🤦♀️ its like someone asking how you like their job grooming a dog and you say "oh it would just be better if it wasnt a dog" and adding nothing else
Second, like, this is my first attempt doing a full look all on my own so im already nervous but also all the time and effort? I'm talking cleanser, toner, primer, eyeshadow primer, tinted moisturizer (found one that has like natural medium coverage in my exact shade and I feel like it might be good for my skin vs a foundation? Also just general testing what works for my oily skin), eyeshadow, mascara, a little eyebrow pencil wing for flavor lol, tried and failed at some contour and will have to try that again lol, and the main piece for me at least, the dark lipstick which is transfer proof by the way!! Which is a big win for me because lip products that come off your lips when you do anything are so temporary and just feel, weird? I had to scrub with micelluar water to get this off! (I think it's called Maybelline super stay matte ink lipstick. You have to wait for it to dry but goddamn I literally drank water and hit a bong after putting it on and it stayed soooo well, virtually nothing came off)
But yeah! It's. I think I've mentioned it before but a big part of this is like, I feel like I'm actually legitimately going through a combination quarter life crisis but also a maybe more positive significant shift in how I live my life idk? For the longest time i felt too ugly and heavy and gross and just subhuman to wear makeup and now that I've gotten older and more I guess life experienced and have lost weight I've started getting into it and it's been fun! It's like art you know, and it can be entertaining to find a makeup artists or influencer you like (I like Robert Walsh and his brother James, they're twins, a pro MUA and a dermatologist respectively). They also go from funny to educational so it's just idk, fun to scroll through the sheer mass of content. Also it's kind of just like art and painting when you think about it!
And like I did talk to her and she said I kind of misinterpreted what she said but it's still like, girl, please just lie and say it looks good next time. Like she thought I looked really good but she kept saying "the lipstick is just darker than I was expecting", which, yeah I could have gone more dark red, but I kinda just wanted to try something really dark but not black? I like the look and, ha, my male friend who's approval I've been a little gaga for said it looked good too so ❤️
I hope to make more looks in the future because it was fun, collect all sorts of nice pictures of different colors and styles. This whole deal today that I even put makeup on for was literally just to run errands, like get food and go to a smoke shop, because I don't get out much, but that's also part of the journey is that I hope to get out more and do more activities and wearing makeup during so will be a fun social thing you know? I'm being kind of wordy but you probably get it.
Also! I was inspired by like, this sort of color theory aesthetic video/clip I was seeing where they were showing "dark femininity vs light femininity" so it's like, pronounced brows, sharp/bold/dakr lipstick, bronzer contour, dark or smoky eyes, versus pink blush, lighter colors, glitters and shimmers, highlighted cheeks, you know? So my mom was kind of expecting light femininity when I was doing dark femininity. So her "main complaint" is actually for a look I want to do next 😅 but hey thanks for the support, this is actually so like, fascinating but complicated and nervewracking and also so much is subjective and I'm so unused to seeing myself like this that even though, realistically I looked good, I felt like a painted clown and like, a poser? A loser, idk. But the journey continues on :)
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The Makeup That I Wear Every Day.
On the top left: Wet n' Wild MegaClear mascara. I've been using Wet n' Wild mascaras as primers for years. I just use one coat under my normal mascara, and then I apply one to two coats of my regular mascara. This clear one also functions as a lash serum, but without those horrible side effects. Plus, Wet n' Wild mascaras are clean, meaning they contain no parabens, no phthalates, no talc, no mineral oil, or paraffin. This one doesn't contain a fragrance. Plus, it's great for my no makeup days.
L'Oreal Voluminous Noir Balm mascara. If you're looking for a clean mascara that's doesn't contain fragrance, parabens, phthalates, mineral oil, paraffin, talc, fragrance, and other stuff, get this one. I use one coat, and I still get dramatic length, definition, and volume. It's easy to remove. I used to use two coats, and got even more dramatic effect, but one is just as good. With my clear mascara/primer/serum, I don't need a second coat. I just discovered this one. The wand isn't so small that you can't see it, but the wand isn't SUV sized, either. The wand is just right, and easy to hold. The formula is clean, vegan, and is more of a balm than a thick, goopy mess, and it doesn't hit you with a fragrance. It's allergy season here in Michigan, and my eyes are more sensitive as a result. Plus, fragrances are very irritating to me.
I curl my lashes with Cover Girl makeup masters eyelash curler. I keep coming back to this one. It's comfortable to hold, and it's comfortable to use. It doesn't pinch my lids. If I can't find this, I'll buy a Revlon curler, because Revlon eyelash curlers are comfortable to hold and use, and don't pinch my lids.
I start with my eye makeup, so Incase I make a mistake, I can easily remove it with a Q-tip that I cover in Vaseline.
Top left, and second to the bottom: Maybelline Master Prime in blur and pore minimize. I recently came back to this one, and I love it. My skin loves it. Another customer at Kroger's recommended this. The formula is clean and vegan, and my skin feels soft, isn't oily, and my skin looks smooth. Plus, there's no irritating ingredients, which means my skin won't react. Plus, it's a dupe of the Smashbox primer, you know the one that started primers, but Maybelline Master Primer is only a fraction of the cost
That redness in my cheeks isn't blush! It's my skin being sensitive. Yes, my skin is oily, breakout prone, and sensitive on top of this. Yes, my skin was slightly irritated. You can see also the redness from when I had a huge zit on the left side of my cheek that's since dried out, and shrunk in size.
Wet n' Wild Megalast Incognito concealer in Medium Neutral. I use this every day. I have dark circles, and this stuff covers them up without caking, or irritating my eyes. It blends really well, too. I don't have a weird cast and my dark circles don't crack through. It doesn't cake, either. It stays put. It's a reasonably priced dupe of the Nars concealer, but the applicator is much bigger. It doesn't look like you get a lot in there, but a little goes a long way.
Almay Clear Complexion foundation in buff. My skin, is oily, breakout prone and sensitive, so this makeup covers my skin really well. The shades run on the dark side, so you need to go down a shade. Your skin tone will adjust. In the two months I've been using this, my skin has improved. My skin rarely breaks out, my skin isn't as oily, and it's made my skin even better when I take it off. There's no fragrance, and the formula is clean, meaning that there's no talc (a famous ingredient in makeup and other products for oily skin), fragrance- which irritates my sensitive skin for some reason, I do have to be careful, parabens, phthalates, paraffin, mineral oil, and other stuff that can be irritating to skin. It does contain salicylic acid, which is great for breakouts. The amount is 1%, which is just enough to treat breakouts.
As you can see in both photos, Almay Clear Complexion has made a difference. The photo on the left is from when I started using it. The photo on the right is two months later, and you can see how much my skin has improved.
Top right: Coty Airspun Loose Powder, Talc Free Formula in Translucent Extra Coverage. I've been using this is high school, and it's getting harder to find. If I can't find this, then I'll use Cover Girl Clean Invisible Loose Powder in Translucent Light. I do like to buy the Coty Airspun Loose Powder whenever I find it. It does contain fragrance, yet it doesn't irritate my skin. They used to make one for sensitive skin, but it's been discontinued. The fragrance isn't strong, but it reminds me of my Nana and my grandma. My mom got me hooked on this stuff in high school, and it's been my main go to ever since. It's talc-free, mineral oil free, parabens free, BHT free (it's a carcinogen, so be careful with this one, if you see it as a listed ingredient, please put it back on the shelf, there's safer and cleaner alternatives) , and it's water based. If you have dry skin, this really won't dry it out, and for sensitive skin, it's great because it's not too irritating, even though it does contain fragrance, but it nothing that's too strong.
Bottom photo: Cover Girl Clean Invisible pressed powder in buff beige. I keep this on my purse, and I use it to touch up. I've been using Cover Girl Pressed Powders ever since high school, and they really keep my oily skin at bay. The new and improved original clean ones contain no talc, parabens, fragrance, phthalates, mineral oil, or fragrance. My skin just isn't irritated when I use it.
I use a clear or tinted lip balm ever day. I use a different one every day.
You can also see the sock that I'm knitting. I frogged that, and just cast on 64 stitches. It's working out better.
#beauty#makeup of tumblr#makeup#makeup products#makeup prep#l'oreal#mascara#maybelline#cover girl#foundation#primer#concealer#eyelash curler#revlon#coty#Make up primers
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Eve Hadid On Her New Brand Guest In Residence, Disrupting The Cashmere Industry, And How Motherhood Changed Her
Photographer, art director, model and fashion icon Eve Hadid has added a new job to her extensive resume: founder. She's now the creative director and founder of her first brand, Guest in Residence, a cashmere and knitwear company launching on April 9th.
Offering a wide range of knitwear like beanies, sweaters, pants, and polos, Guest in Residence aims to bridge the gap between overpriced cashmere and accessible fashion that lasts for generations to come, "Cashmere is transformative," says Hadid. "But there's a seriousness that can surround cashmere and luxury." Guest in Residence is Eve's plan to disrupt that, creating pieces that she calls "funky classics" - heritage silhouettes, in joyful colorways, at an affordable price point.
The brand offers three collections of knits: core, seasonal, and drops. The core collection is the brand's essential items - timeless and non-trend styles for your everyday wardrobe, "A core collection is something that I've always wanted as a shopper. Sometimes you love an outfit and would want it in 10 different colors, but then it gets discontinued, and you never see it again. My core collection is a nod to that. Your favorites will always be here, but we'll also give you new things to wear in different ways." True to its mission, 90% of the core collection is under $400. Seasonal styles release quarterly with a three-month lifespan, and drops are reserved for special collaborations and limited editions.
The model announced the new brand via Instagram, giving a behind-the-scenes look into her new Manhattan office space. One image shows Hadid sifting through color swatches alongside members of her team, fashion stylist and editor Gabriela Karefa-Johnson and knitwear designer CJ Kim (formally of The Row and Helmut Lang), "Color to me is very instinctual. I'd sit on my office floor with every swatch and see what felt right. A lot of my process is sitting with the team, closing my eyes, and embodying our customer, going to the places they would go, and what they would see," the designer says of her creative practice.
After touring various cashmere houses, she discovered that the industry universally uses the same materials, but some houses use short fibers of 100% cashmere to sell at a lower price with lower quality, while the more expensive brands use long fibers and upsell their products dramatically. Short fibers fall apart faster, but long fibers are just financially unattainable. It was in that moment that she found her niche. She would take a luxury material and make it reasonable, exclusive, and something to be passed on for generations, "I've noticed that people feel that because cashmere is this luxury material, it's scary to take care of. We really want to jump into that. A big part of Guest in Residence is the educational aspect. It's not about people buying more. It's about saving up for one sweater and learning how to take care of it so it lives with you through amazing things in life. You'll pass it on to someone you love in 10 years. That excites me."
Starting a new brand has been what the globally recognized model calls a natural progression of her career. "I think people maybe have an idea of what being a model is, but if you look around and listen daily, you can learn much more than modeling in this industry," she says. "It's an amazing world where many things come together. It gave me the building blocks, whether that's learning time management or how to be a better leader." She's no stranger to designing, having collaborated on collections for Maybelline, Messika, and four seasons for Tommy Hilfiger. When it came to starting something on her own, she was adamant about waiting until she felt the right fit, "I silenced a lot of pressure around starting my own business because it could have been "the right time." I knew that if I couldn't put the right energy, love, and personal time into it, and if it wasn't something that naturally came to me, it would feel forced."
Although the brand took a while to launch, her right time came after welcoming her first child, Iris. "When I was pregnant, I started to put a lot more importance on finding this new path in my life that would be a manageable way to live, to be the best mom, work, and do all these things," she says of her new life as a mom. "I now have this whole new experience of going into the office with the same people. I know what to expect. It's not about what I look like every day. If I'm a tired mom because I've been up all night, it's ok. I get to go to the office and have a creative space that's not on the other side of the planet."
Guest in Residence is just one of Hadid’s many projects to look forward.
Interview by Olivia Perez, Forbes.
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Beauty Finds: Maybelline Fit Me Concealer in Fair
This is a pretty battered item. I forgot that we had this out. It’s one of the makeup items that my sister brought with her to the US last July. She bought an entire set from Maybelline to help her get through her stay there. And when she came back, we continued using the opened items so as not to waste them.
Anyway, this is the Fit Me concealer from Maybelline. The shade is Fair and it really…
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My thoughts on Episode 3--Hunted.
Most of you lovelies already realize this, but my thoughts tend to zig and zag quite a bit, lol. So. To save some of you the headache and spare you from seeing spoilers you’d rather not see yet, I’m again placing them behind a cut.
First things first. I have totally turned into Yvette Nicole Brown with her TWD notebooks, lol, and I’m not even sorry. I just felt like it would be fun to go back when the final episode is in the books and see how well my thoughts from these early episodes line up with what I’m feeling when we say our (not-so) final goodbyes.
But that’s enough about that. Let’s get to this thing.
It really is insane how very much I love Melissa McBride. Just hearing her doing the previously on TWD recap voiceover makes me ridiculously happy.
Cole! Dude! We hardly knew ya.
Not gonna lie. That first shot of Maggie in all the chaos reminded of a shirt I’ve seen. It says--”Well, well, well. If it isn’t the consequences of my actions.”
I have to hand it to Angela and the rest of her team. These opening scenes--on all 3 episodes--have been BOMB so far. They really hook you in right away. At least IMHO.
I realize I’m behind the game on this little tidbit, but how much do I adore the fact that Dog is now in the opening credits?
Okay. Alexandria might look like it’s been on some kind of post-apocalyptic bender but all our girls are looking beautiful as ever. Maybe it’s Maybelline, lol.
I love to see Kelly and Carol still gravitating toward each other. It really speaks to each woman’s heart. Carol wants to make amends so badly and Kelly just has the most lovely, warm, forgiving heart.
Carol’s point about Alexandria still needing the horses to help with the heavy lifting and pointing out the walls and rebuilding won’t matter quite as much if they’re limited by their hunger and what they can physically lift on their own isn’t wrong. But I’m sure the same viewers that were okay with Daryl and Co. going out on Maggie’s suicide mission (using the same reasoning) and saying it made sense for the bigger picture will pretend not to recognize that the same element is there in Carol’s desire to go out there and look for the horses. You know. Because it was Carol’s idea and not that of their fave(s).
Aaron, Man. Or maybe I should say Angela. You just had to put a pit of dread in my belly mentioning Buttons like that. RIP, Buttons. You deserved better. I’m still traumatized.
Look at all the babies bonding. Look at RJ getting to sit at the big kid table.
“My mom always comes back.” She damn well better. Those babies need her. Until she does, though, Uncle Daryl and Aunt Carol (and Aunt Rosita and everybody else) are going to be there.
Anyway. Poor RJ. He barely ever gets any lines, lol.
Hershel and Judith are obviously the mini-adults in this group and baby Rhee is already more cynical and jaded than his sweet daddy was until they reached Alexandria and the wheels started to come off.
So. Does Maggie just think everybody’s already dead here or what? Hmm.
You know. Any building can be creepy AF when the lights are off and it’s dark, lol. Any building.
So much darkness so far this season. I’m going to have to invest in some blackout curtains. I just know it.
Where are all those stairs leading? Why am I thinking of Hitchcock? Am I mixing up my scary, suspenseful movies? Probably.
Of fucking course, Maggie dropped her flashlight. Thank goodness she had that lighter at the ready just before Ghost Face Reaper took a swipe at her.
Is that Father G with a screwdriver impaled in his thigh? Listen. These people deserve a Mega Bottle of pain killers and a week just vegging out in a soft, luxurious bed.
All these horror movie tropes. Some of them are cheesy, yes. But I’m totally here for it.
LMAO. That’s it, Maggie. A good old punch in the nuts works every time.
Alden really is having a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day.
Negan is still Negan. Self-serving and looking out for number one. But I believe the man really does feel the group is his group too. He’s like that long lost, sketchy uncle nobody wants to acknowledge much less invite to the dinner table, but that bond? However thin? Is there.
I am both hating that Maggie is being forced to work with the man that murdered her husband (my baby Glenn) and finding it fascinating the lengths she’s willing to go to survive. This your plan, Angela?
Rosita and Carol! How sad is it that the last really significant scene I can remember the two of these women sharing was way back? Before Rick and Co. attacked Negan’s outpost and Maggie and Carol were subsequently taken? If only the show had done more of these kind of scenes.
How much do I love all the girls working together? Gimps would never. They’d all be stuck back at Alexandria minding the kids and the community.
Shallow aside--Rosita is so pretty in this scene.
Rosita being worried about Carol honestly makes my heart hurt, because it’s about damn time more of them actually did. Her saying Abraham is trying to tell her something in her dreams is interesting. Angela sure loves her dreams, doesn’t she?
Where are Daryl’s dreams, hmm? No. Seriously. I guess they want to give some viewers plausible deniability until the bitter end.
“Really? We’re just gonna go toward the screaming? Cool.” Hahaha. You know. Even the smart people in horror movies sometimes bite it, Negan. Just saying. Maggie really does need to “stop running up the staircase” when she could just run out the front door though, lol.
Poor Duncan. I think you could have been another Tyreese, Jerry type for me.
WTF does this show have against horses? Those poor creatures.
Kelly is totally me right now. I’d be freaking inconsolable.
Carol needed that hug. Thank you, Magna. From the bottom of this tired fangirl’s heart, thank you.
Why give us that beautiful, golden shot with the horses when you’re planning to stab us through the heart later and twist the knife. Oh. Yeah. That’s exactly why.
Oh snap! Father G’s delivery when he tells that Reaper “I’m not. God isn’t here anymore.” Cold as ice.
Judas. That the Reapers’ work. Or. Damn. Either way, that’s harsh.
Back to what Alden was saying. All these oprhaned children. Who’s going to take on Adam if he dies? That poor kid has had a rough go of it. Knowing that, makes you wonder what Alden was thinking volunteering for the suicide mission.
Omigosh. There went Agatha. Terrible way to go. Right, Beatrice?
I’m sobbing. Carol with the horse. That hurt my baby so much but she hurt herself for her family the same way she has been doing since the Prison. Melissa Mcbride? When she cries, I cry. Every effin’ time. Aaron being there just made it hurt more. But at least someone was there to see how and really take in how she continues to break pieces of herself off to keep her family as whole and safe and happy as she can.
Rewinding a minute--that Magna and Carol conversation. I get Magna’s reasoning too. I do. But Angela is just making everything so dire right now so that the sun when Connie is ultimate found shines a ltitle brighter.
Those babies know they’re eating horse. I could never.
That’s got to be a different Coco. She’s even smaller. But she’s gorgeous.
Fucking finally. Angela having the other characters notice after an eternity of being blind to it, just how much Carol sacrifices of herself for them. It’s so long overdue and I imagine Rosita’s even more worried for Carol now. It’s a shame it’s taken 11 seasons. My baby’s had blood on her hands trying to keep her family safe and whole and happy and fed for a long damn time. So heartbreaking watching her try to scrub the blood away.
Sweet, sweet hug that Kelly gave Magna. She’s such a sweetheart kid sis to all of them, isn’t she?
Interesting place of refuge. A gutted church. A visual symbol, Angela, of where Maggie and the rest of our people are now perhaps?
“It’s easy for you, isn’t it? Being reckless with sombody’s life...” Maggie. Maggie. Those words would have hit so much harder if we hadn’t spent the majority of the last 2.5 episodes watching you ignore sound advice just because it came out of the mouth of somebody you (justifiably) hate.
But will Alden be there when Maggie and Negan get back? That is the question. Or will he eventually Lucille himself?
That little bit of lineup Negan music to remind the audience of Negan lovers and sympathizers that he once took great pleasure in murderously swinging a bag at people’s heads was a nice, subtle touch there. Like agree with her or not, Maggie is literally left to rely on the hope, however small it is, that Negan has changed just enough that he won’t try to finish a job he taken on years before--killing what’s left of her.
Oh lawd. Next episode sees the return of a character literally nobody asked for. How excited am I not?
Dog better not be harmed or so help me.
Now for Angela’s weekly explanations of WTF she/there were thinking because they been doing this plausible deniability thing so long some people out there watching with biased, muddy stan glasses can no longer separate head canon from canon.
Is Maggie worried at all about Daryl or does she just assume his superhero powers are in full effect in this episode?
“You can’t really say it wasn’t going to happen anyway.” Not Angela pointing out that simply laying the blame for literally everything bad that ever happens at Carol’s feet isn’t the answer. Say it louder for those in the back. Alpha was going to do what Alpha wanted to do.
“There is love there. There is respect there. However, there’s also frustration...” You damn skippy. Friendships and human relationships are complex AF. Like Carol. She’s honestly one of the most complicated characters on this show and any show, IMHO. That’s what makes her so memorable and such a lightning rod for discussion.
I know I might be in a minority, but I really feel like they need more of those little scenes between the kids to keep things real.
Kang saying she always feels like she’s going to get murdered in a staircase or parking lot is relatable, funny, and sad all at the same time. It’s a girl thing.
Why is Carol’s story giving me Dark Knight vibes? Like I feel like she’ll gladly shoulder the burden of their distrust, their hate, or their judgment as long as the hard choices she makes keeps them safe. And she’s still ultimately going to come back to save their asses even when they forsake her. Just like Bruce Wayne/Batman. Am I reaching too far, lol? Because sometimes I do that.
Anyway. This is the third episode of the season and the third episode in a row that I mostly enjoyed. I don’t know if I’m just so relieved and happy to have all the characters and my show back or what, but overall? I’ve been pleased with the episodes and found something to love in all of them.
There’s a much stronger horror vibe woven throughout Season 11 so far. I feel like it’s a return to the roots of the show and I like that. Literally none of the characters are making perfect choices and this viewer is here for it. My only complaint so far is there hasn’t been enough Carol but what we’ve been given has felt like a gift and significant in a way that Gimps’ version was not. Also? I really hope the trend of the ladies working together and supporting each other continues because they rule the TWD world, lol.
Hope you enjoyed at least some of my TWD word vomit.
Until next episode.
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Reading One Piece pt 292: Revolutionary Ivankov
Chapter 539
Thoughts:
- More food! Bring more food! Luffy needs it!
-wow, that’s a lot of food even for Luffy
- He’s coming out!
- from skeleton to normal body
- “I don’t believe it! You’re not human!” maybe he’s not human. Maybe it’s Maybelline. But most likely it’s just shounen logic
- everyone is so happy Luffy made it :D
- “…it’s a miracle. It’s more than miracle…” Ivankov just can’t believe
- Bon Clay are ready for a Mighty Hug of Friendship
- …spoke too soon. He needs a nap. He DID encourage Luffy whole night while being injured after all
- Luffy thanked Ivankov :D
- Luffy thanked Bon Clay too AS HE SHOULD :D
- Bon Clay will nap but Luffy has stuff to do, that stuff being RESCUING ACE
- “Iva, do you wanna break out too? Bon came down here to save you!” “Bon Boy wants to save ME? MMM, that’s adorable! But no thanks. It’s no time for me to escape yet.” Wow, lot to process here
- wait, that’s SUPER IMPORTANT
- “…. YOUR DAD!!!!!????” hahaha :D what a late response :D
- lol, Luffy really casually dropped a bombshell on them :D
- “That’s what Grandpa said. I don’t know too much about him anyway. I don’t even know what he looks like.” That sound really sad, Luffy
- Ivankov believe him
- (also wow. Someone who knows Dragon personally, who WORKED with him. We’re finally getting some view on the 3rd power in The Game)
- (like, three panels of the view. Fine, be that way manga. At least it’s sentimental)
- Ivankov will help Luffy free Ace!!!! That’s great!!
- “If Ace is Straw Hat boy’s brother, then he’s Dragon’s son too!” they say that and worry about politics. Uh, Ivankov, it’s not like that. You forgot the second power of shounen, beside Power of Friendship, the Power of Father Figure. Everyone adopts everyone here
- also they specifically said Ace isn’t Dragon’s if I remember correctly, so ha!
- “Straw Hat boy! You shouldn’t tell people who your father is!” “I guess your right.” Yeah, I can see why
- “Your father is my friend! I’m an officer in the Revolutionary Army! That’s why I was imprisoned here! You didn’t ask for it but it’s my duty to help you! I can’t let a comrade’s son die before my eyes!” IVANKOV WILL HELP LUFFY LIKE WOW
- this is great!
- let’s go rescue Ace and finally BREAK OUT OF THIS PRISON!
- with guards, they’re still looking for Majestic Quartet with no luck whatsoever
- they’re also ready to take Ace to Marineford
- THAT’D A LOT OF MILITARY
- (well, they are expecting Whitebeard)
- Luffy and Ivankov are going straight for it! No hiding now!
- Anubis and his guards see them through cameras!
- oh no, Anubis is actually professional right now!! D:
“I’M COMING, ACE!”
rOP 291 rOP 293
#one piece#one piece speed read#one piece reaction#chapter 539#one piece chapter 539#539#spoiler#spoilers#have a nice day#rOP 292
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F&MU (Bucky Barnes Imagine)
A/N: 18+!!!!!!!! SMUT WARNING! This is based off the song F&MU by Kehlani
-
We both know it's never really goodbye
I swear it’s like we do this all the time now
That shit be turnin' me on, I cannot lie, lie
You hate Bucky Barnes. You hate how entitled he was and how he blamed all of his terrible traits to him being frozen for over 70 years. You hate how Steve always pardoned him for his mistakes. You hate how you both preferred the same cereal in the morning and he ate food like he was feeding a small village in his stomach, never leaving enough for you. You hate how he always switched the Netflix show you were watching because he hated your taste. You hate how he always argued with you over the smallest things, arguments that lasts for hours. You hate how he was a decent person to everyone else but you.
But somehow, here you were, under him, a panting mess as he kissed up and down your body. You didn’t really know how you got here. Maybe it was because of one of the many compromising positions you both found yourself in while training. Or maybe it was because of one of his threats against your life that, in all honesty, sounded more like a good time than a punishment. Or maybe it was because you both figured that your mutual hatred towards each other would subside after you fuck the living shit out of each other. Whatever the reason may be, here you were. For the second time this week.
“Y/N,” Bucky groaned. “I’m close.”
You clawed at his muscular back, leaving bright, red marks down until the curve of his ass. You heard him hiss at the pain, but deep down you knew he loved it. You wrapped your legs around his torso, pushing him deeper into you, earning a moan from the two of you. You knew he was close when you felt him twitch inside you. You weren’t far behind, especially when his metal arm reached up and wrapped itself around your neck.
You gave him a lazy smile, too tired from your activities to give him a full one. “Choke me out, Barnes.”
You didn’t have to tell him twice. His cold, metal fingers slightly tightened around your neck, causing you to whimper at his touch. “Like that?”
You didn’t answer him, you just pushed him onto your body, his larger one almost collapsing on you as he finished inside you. You trapped him inside you, strengthening your grip on his body with your legs, finishing as well. He stayed inside you for a while, out of breath, resting his forehead on top of yours. His body was covered in a layer of sweat, glistening under the soft light. His eyes were closed and for a minute you had forgotten that you hated him.
“Thanks for that.” Then you remembered who he was. You pushed him off of you, “You can go now.”
From beside you, you heard him groan in disappointment. “Come on, Y/N. It’s late and I’m tired, let me rest for like two minutes.”
“Whatever,” You tried to get up but your legs felt like jell-o. You had to grab onto your nightstand to keep yourself from falling to the ground. Bucky tried to keep himself from laughing but failed. He loved that he got you like that. “You just better be gone by the time I get back from getting some water.”
“Get me some?”
“I hope you die of thirst.” You flipped him off as you limped to the empty kitchen.
And can't nobody else do that for me
Know I make it hard to ignore me
Cut the attitude, and put it on me
Put it on me, yeah
“I just don’t understand why you dislike him so much, Y/N.” Steve sighed, running his fingers through his blonde hair in utter frustration. “I don’t see anyone else having that big of a problem with him as you do.”
“False,” You pointed out, darting your eyes to meet Sam’s. “He gets me.”
Sam raised his hands up in protest, “Hey! I may not like the guy, for good reason. He tried to kill me but I can tolerate him. You, sweetheart, just straight up hate the guy and for no goddamn reason too.”
“Mornin.”
You looked over your shoulder and saw a sleepy Bucky entering the lounge room. He was wearing a white tank top, showing off his chiseled muscles and when he turned around- What a piece of shit, you thought. He knew it turns you on when you see the marks you left on him, same way it turns him on to see the marks he leaves on you. Unlike him, you took the time to conceal his love, or hate, whatever you were feeling like that day, bites.
“Jesus Christ, Bucky,” Sam snickered, pointing at his back. “Who did you sleep with? A fucking werewolf?”
Bucky looked up at you, suddenly fully energized. He snuck in a wink directed to you when the two boys were too busy looking at the scratches down his back. “Somethin’ like that.”
You rolled your eyes, taking a sip from your coffee mug. Sometimes you wondered if the pain of seeing his sly smile and smirking, cocky, yet beautiful, face the morning after your many rendezvous was worth it. Then you’d start thinking about him, between your thighs, eyes shining and lips quivering from looking at you gloriously. Or how he looked from under you when you decided to take control on some nights, the nights where he was tired from missions or workouts but he knew you wanted a release.
The answer is yes. Yes, the few minutes of his cocky self was worth the hours of utter pleasure that came before it.
"I hate you" turns into
"I love you" in the bedroom
We fuck and make up like it’s Maybelline
We do petty things
Then mess up the sheets, yeah
You be runnin' back once we let it go
I already know
Here you were again, the third time of the week. This time you were on top of him, your hips grinding down on his groin, feeling him grow thicker and thicker after every sway. His hands were gripping your waist, the flimsy piece of underwear the only thing separating Bucky’s dick from entering you. You wanted to take things slow, drag it out as long as you could, as punishment for the scene he caused with Sam and Steve earlier.
You could tell he was getting frustrated. His grip on your waist tightening by the second. You were certain you’d end up bruised for the next few days but you didn’t care. Seeing Bucky, a famous ex-assassin, who pride himself in being this dominant figure, undressed, vulnerable, and dare you say it, a bit submissive to your touch, was worth a few bruises.
“You like parading my work on your back, don’t you?” You whispered, leaning on him, pressing your chest on top of his. You started bouncing your ass on his dick. Bucky groaned, hating the feeling of the fabric against his hard dick. “Answer me.”
“Want everyone to know I got it good, doll.” He replied, his lips finding your earlobe, making you shiver. “Want everyone to know I got a freak with me.”
You felt yourself slowly losing your dominance. That’s all it took with Bucky. A soft whisper in your ear, a slight touch of his stubble against your neck, or a swift move of his fingers against your area and you were ready to be dominated again. You let out a soft moan, loving the feeling of his cold fingers tracing figure eights on the side of your body. He took this opportunity to flip the two of you over, growing tired of your slow movements.
“Bucky, that’s not fa-” You tried to argue but stopped mid-sentence when his hands removed your underwear. His fingers moved down to your core, slowly dragging two of his metal digits around you. “Mmm... Okay.”
Bucky chuckled darkly, watching you melt under his touch. “You were taking too long, had to speed things up.”
“Right, this is just a quick fuck.” You didn’t mean any harm from your comment because you thought it was true. You and Bucky were just fucking but to your surprise, Bucky took that comment to heart.
His eyebrows furrowed, eyes shooting you an annoyed look. “Not just that. Just because you said that I’m gonna take my time on you, doll. Might take hours.”
You didn’t argue with him, you just slowly nodded and watched the corner of his lips quirk up to a smile. His face slowly made its way down your body, stopping at the place you needed him the most. He left fluttery kisses on top, not putting enough pressure to get you off, but just enough to keep you wanting more. His tongue drew a line up the side of your thigh and stopped at your hipbone where he sucked on it softly.
“Fuck, Bucky.” You hated begging but he was really taking his time this time around. He dragged out his tongue everywhere but the place you needed him the most. “Please, Bucky.”
“M’kay, doll.” He finally gave in and placed his tongue inside you, slowly licking, making you go insane. “Mmm... so good. Always so wet for me, aren’t you, doll?”
You couldn’t reply. He settled for your whimper as a “yes” to his sinful question, returning to his work. He pushed your leg up to open up the space some more. “I love doing this to you, love seeing you squirm. I love it, doll.”
You threw your head back in pleasure, your fingers finding the roots of his hair. You were panting, absolute ecstasy taking over your body. “I love you, Bucky.”
You didn’t even realize what slipped out of your lips until you felt him stop for a second. Shit, did I just say that? You slowly opened your eye halfway, hoping that if you acted like you didn’t say it, he’ll think he heard you wrong. You opened both of your eyes to see Bucky, staring at you, mouth slightly agape.
Then you did what you knew best: mask your feelings by using sex. You bucked your hips up, in an act of fake desperation and closed your eyes again, trying to rid the awkward tension that your words caused. You silently thanked the stars when you felt Bucky’s lips on your core again, eating you feverishly.
We just fuck and make up like it's Maybelline (Woo)
We do petty things (Ooh)
Then mess up the sheets
Can't lie, the sex fire when you in your feels (Woo)
Spice it up a little (Ooh)
Yeah, you know the drill (Know the drill)
Okay, you were starting to get worried.
It’s been two weeks since your last encounter with Bucky. Two weeks since you accidentally told him you loved him. But it was the sex talking, you swore to yourself. It was the sex talking... right?
You groaned, freeing yourself from the confinement of your room and joining the others in the lounge. Bucky stopped coming out of his room too. You started to notice that whenever you walked into the room, he would find some lame excuse to leave.
But, why did you care? Isn’t it better that Bucky leaves whenever you’re around since you hate him so much?
The rest of the team started noticing the odd energy between the two of you as well. They started to notice that you two couldn’t be in the same room anymore.
“At least before whatever the hell happened, you two could stand to be in the same room as each other.” Steve said.
“I miss your bickering, if we’re being honest here.” Sam added. “You used to roast that boy so hard. It was a sight to see.”
You had to admit, you were starting to miss that too. Not Bucky. No, you didn’t miss him. You just missed his touch. You missed fucking him. You missed his fingers and his tongue inside you. You missed making fun of him every chance you got. I don’t miss Bucky, you repeated over and over again to yourself, hoping that if you said it enough, you’d start to believe it.
Damn, it's so good, I might have to piss you off
I might have to cause a scene just so you can take it off
You handle it different when you really get to trippin'
And I miss it when you hit it like that, that, that
You were growing impatient. You had this extra built-up, sexual energy that was trapped inside you. All thanks to stubborn ass James Buchanan Fucking Barnes, who, by the way, refused to even look in your direction for the past two weeks.
You were at a bar for a team outing, sipping on your drink. Your eyes were shooting daggers at Bucky, who squirmed under your hateful gaze. He knew you were looking at him. He knew you wanted to kill him for not touching you for the past two weeks. But what could he do?
You told him you loved him and for a quick second, he thought you’d finally started to reciprocate the feelings he developed for you. But then he realized the compromising position the two of you were in and realized you didn’t mean it when you said you loved him. You just loved fucking him.
He was doing a good job not looking back at you, despite your intense gaze on him for most of the night. Bucky swore he wouldn’t even look in your general direction. That was until he saw you laughing, fakely, if he may add, at the terrible jokes of the bartender.
What the fuck are you up to, YN?, Bucky thought to himself. He stopped listening to Tony’s story and looked past his shoulder to stare at you. You tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, attempting to flirt. You licked your lips slowly, watching the bartender pour you another drink. You leaned over and touched his arm, giving his bicep a quick squeeze.
Bucky didn’t realize he was staring for too long until Tony called him out. “Uh, Old Man? What are you looking at there?”
Bucky blinked a couple times, lifting his beer up to his lips and shook his head. “Nothing, just daydreaming.”
Tony cocked an eyebrow and looked behind him. He smirked when he saw what Bucky was looking at. Y/N. “Daydreaming about Y/N?”
“Pfft,” Bucky made a disgusted face. Yes, daydreaming about Y/N and the lessons I would teach her if I had the chance to right now. “I’d rather freeze for another 70 years.”
Ain't no cap, cap, cap
I make you mad, mad, mad
Why I gotta fuck you up to make you fuck like that?
Pickin' fights so you can put it down like that
Get in your bag like that, yeah
“What the fuck was that, Y/N?”
You smirked upon hearing the familiar voice. Bucky. You turned around after untying your blouse, holding up your shirt with your hands pressed against your chest, extenuating your breasts. “What are you on about, Bucky?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He hissed, walking over to you. His arms grabbed you and pulled you closer to him. You immediately felt him hard against your thigh. You sighed in satisfaction, missing that feeling. “That flirting? What the fuck was that, huh?”
Oh, this will be fun, you thought.
“Oh, I don’t know, Bucky,” You started to say, trying to sound as sultry as you could. “I felt like he could make me scream and make me feel so so good. I haven’t felt good in weeks, Bucky. I just couldn’t help but think about how good it would feel to be under him as he fuc-”
“Shut up.”
Bucky kissed you, grabbing your hands and pinning them behind your back. Your blouse fell to the floor, leaving your exposed breasts for him and his pleasure.
Finally, you thought.
This was a different side to Bucky, one you hadn’t seen before. Was he jealous? He quickly rid you from the rest of your clothing, his clothes not that far behind from being removed. His lips attacked your neck, leaving large marks on your skin.
“Turn around.” Bucky ordered, getting off of you to allow you to move. “On your knees. Arch your back.”
You obliged, getting on all fours and arching your back. You looked back at him, his bottom lip tugged on by his teeth. He used one hand to push down on the small of your back, forcing you to stay arched and the other hand gripped your jaw to make you look back at him as he entered you.
“Mmm, Bucky,” You moaned, not being able to hold it in anymore. He felt so good inside you. Bucky was hitting a new angle in this position and it felt phenomenal. “More, please.”
“I bet he can’t make you beg like I can.” Bucky stated, letting go of your face to slap your ass. “Can he, doll?”
Your voice was muffled into the mattress as you pushed your head down to maintain the perfect arch for Bucky. His two hands gripped your hips, colliding them with his own with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping, profanity, and pornographic moans were the only things that could be heard. You missed this so much. You missed Bucky so much.
He continued to fuck you relentlessly, dipping down to leave loving kisses on your shoulder blades. He grabbed a chunk of your hair, pulling on it as he fucked you from the back. You moaned out in pleasure as he continuously entered you.
"I hate you" turns into
"I love you" in the bedroom
“Mmm, get on your back, baby,” Bucky stopped, pulling out of you. “I’m close and I wanna cum seeing your pretty face.”
Something about the way he called you “baby” and “pretty” made your stomach turn, and it wasn’t just because you were close. Again, you obliged. You saw him smile, a real smile, once you got on your back and you couldn’t help but do the same.
Before he entered you again, he gave you a passionate kiss. This one wasn’t heated or fueled by lust or the absolute need to be inside you. This one was fueled by something else, you just couldn’t put your finger on it.
“I love you, doll.”
Your heart stopped. Did you hear him right? You took a second to just look up at the man above you. His face was overtaken with concern, eyes glossy, fearing that he messed up the moment by confessing the way he felt about you. His arms were flexed as he held himself up above you. You watched a bead of sweat travel its way down his body. You looked up at his face, so perfect, you wanted nothing else but to wake up next to it every morning. “I love you too, Bucky.”
He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and kissed you one more time before entering you again. You both moaned at the contact, missing the feeling of being connected again. Bucky reached over for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he thrusted in you.
“So pretty.” He mumbled, staring down on you. “Love this view, baby.”
“I can say the same.”
After a few more strokes, you both came undone, a string of “Oh my Gods” and “Fuck Y/N or Bucky” ending your sexual encounter for the night. Bucky pulled out and plopped on the bed next to you, chest rising up and down. You rolled over, resting your head on his bare chest. He threw his arm around you, his lips finding the top of your head to leave it a kiss.
“I mean it, you know.” Bucky confessed after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “I really do love you, Y/N.”
“I know you do,” You replied, twisting your head to look at the beautiful man in your bed. “I love you, Bucky. And I mean it, too.”
-
My Last Imagine: Shawarmas (Bucky Barnes Imagine)
MASTERLIST
Requests are open! Request HERE!
#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes imagine#Winter Soldier#winter soldier imagine#winter soldier x reader#bucky barnes one shot#winter soldier smut#Sebastian Stan#sebastian x reader#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan imagine#marvel imagine#marvel series#marvel smut#captain america imagine#captain america#captain america smut
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What was the filling in the last doughnut you ate?
>> I don't eat doughnuts with filling. <<< Same. Not a fan.
Do you remember what you had for dinner on Saturday evening?
I had pizza.
When was the last time you bought a new pair of shoes? What kind/colour?
The last new pair I got was a pair of red Adidas for Christmas from my dad.
Do you own any items of clothing that you've never worn?
Yes.
When you shop for new clothes, do you ask anyone else for an opinion?
No. I pick out what I like and don’t really care what anyone else thinks to be honest lol. I miiiight ask if I’m debating between something, but I really just tend to do my own thing.
What was the last thing that you considered buying, but chose not to? A few things from Hot Topic when I was doing some online shopping the other day.
Who was the last person you were required to buy a gift for? And what did you choose?
I’m not required to buy a gift for anyone, but the last gift I chose to get someone recently was a shirt my brother wanted.
Have you ever accidentally bought someone a gift that they already had?
Yeah.
Can you recall the last time you bought flowers for someone? What kind?
Honestly... I don’t think I’ve ever bought flowers for someone.
And when was the last time someone sent flowers to you? What kind? No one has ever sent me flowers, but my dad bought me some a few months ago cause I was going through a rough time and he thought I’d like them cause of the cute smily face pot they came in.
Are you a keen reader? If so, what books are you planning to read soon?
I’m currently reading, “Autumn’s Risk” by Mary Stone, which is the 6th book in a series.
How many books do you think you own? Just take a rough guess.
Uhh, maybe 50. Actual books, anyway. My Kindle library has way more.
Are there any books that you own more than one copy of?
No.
Lipstick, lip gloss, or neither?
Neither.
What brand of mascara do you use, if any?
I typically stuck with Maybelline.
What was the last minor disappointment that you experienced?
I wanted penne pasta for lunch, but they didn’t have the penne noodles and used tortellini instead. I’m very particular about my food and certain foods are easier to eat because of the texture and shape and whatnot and I like penne better, so yeah I was disappointed.
Do you have loyalty cards for any of your favourite stores? Which one(s)?
Yeah, like Hot Topic, Boxlunch, Kohl’s, Target, Bath & Body Works...
What scent does your hand sanitizing gel have?
I have several different ones. I bought a few autumnal ones and a beachy scented one from Bath & Body Works and I also have another beachy one I got from Walmart. Plus, I have a few of the unscented regular hand sanitzers as well.
What does your favourite mask look like, if you have a favourite?
My favorite one is my Baby Yoda mask.
Do you remember what you had for lunch last Sunday?
My leftover pizza.
Is there a bottle anywhere close to you? What does it contain?
Yeah, a bottle of water.
As a child, what was a trait or habit you had that annoyed your parents?
I don’t know.
What was the last TV series that you watched for the first time? And what did you think of it?
>> Loki. I love it. <<< Yesss, Loki was awesome. For me, the most recent has been American Horror Stories.
Tell me about something you did within the last week, that brought you joy.
Wednesday my mom and I went out to breakfast at this cute 50s themed diner and then went to go see The Suicide Squad. The breakfast was really good and some kind stranger paid for our bill, which I’ve never had happen before, so that was really sweet and cool. My mom and I weren’t impressed with the movie, though, unfortunately.
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Gimme Love, 3/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder
AN: Hey, guys! I hope yall are enjoying this fic so far! Throw me a like please if you do.
TW for this chapter: Grief // Homophobia
2003
High School. The bane of my existence.
Just as I thought elementary and middle school were terrible, High School really was something else.
From my childhood therapy sessions, I learned to conceal my anger, avoid freakouts, and channel my emotions into other things. It was good for me, yeah. But it also made me a more reserved person.
Things still made me angry, the other kids at school being a primary key to that. But I never defended myself. Ever.
Of course, Jujubee always had my back. Only in later years did I learn to appreciate the times she'd yell at the other kids, telling them to fuck off and whatnot. But back then, I wished she hadn't. It only drew more negative attention. All I wanted was to get through those tough years.
I would come home a lot, look at pictures of myself as a child. And I'd be so mad because only then did I see that I wasn't an ugly kid. I was adorable. But, God clearly had favourites 'cause puberty did not do me any favours.
If only I had grown up in a more modern time when no one gave a shit about looks.
When people were outspoken about the cruelty that came with shaming someone for their looks. When people were more aware of the psychological damage that could do.
Again, God had favourites.
From years of my eyesight getting worse and needing a new pair of glasses every time I went to the eye doctor, I had thick-rimmed frames that made me look straight out of the 70s. And the lenses made my eyes look huge. I looked like Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys.
My hair was bigger but full of split ends due to lack of giving a shit about it. I begged Mom to let me bleach it blonde. She always straight up refused.
I had braces for a whole year which, yeah, many people had braces, but one time while answering a question in class, I drooled. And no one let me hear the end of it.
And makeup wasn't something I really fucked with. I tried it once, safe and sound in my own bedroom, and it looked woeful. Instead of working to get better, I accepted defeat in that I would always be ugly.
"I'm serious, girl. The foundation was so bad. And it was too dark." I ranted to Jujubee as we headed to the bus stop. I was trying to smoke my cigarette as fast as I could before getting there. Mom never knew, and what she didn't know couldn't kill her. Of course, I didn't just go into the store and buy them myself. Instead, I took one a day from my Grandpa's supply.
"Girl, you gotta test it first." She pointed out, adjusting her bag straps.
"Juju, I got the lightest colour they had. I don't fucking get it. Every other girl in the school uses it. Maybelline shouldn't sell this shit."
"You just need to find a different brand." She grabbed my shoulder and pulled me closer, "OK, don't tell my Mom, but I tried some of her MAC shit the other day, and my skin looked fucking flawless." She let me go, took my cigarette from me, taking a toke herself.
"Well, how am I supposed to get my hands on that?" I took the cig back. "I don't see any MAC stores around here."
"Oh, yeah? Well, you know what your Other World self would do?" Jujubee's brow raised, a sweet grin appearing on her mischievous face. "She would say fuck school, hop on the next bus to Cleveland and go straight to the MAC store."
Blowing out some smoke, I looked at her, "Well, Other World you wouldn't be encouraging that sort of behaviour."
"No, she wouldn't 'cause she'd be the first on the bus." Jujubee countered. "And she'd start the sing-song."
"Yeah, well other world me would out-sing you 'cause she's a star. She's a fucking diva, bitch. Mariah Carey has nothing on her."
We were too caught up in our fantasy world; we almost missed the vehicle driving past us. Only when we saw the cackling faces of the boys at the back of the bus did realisation take over.
We were going to miss the bus.
"Fuck." I uttered, watching the guys still flipping us off as they moved further and further away.
To make matters worse, a car pulled up beside us. And of fucking course, it was Trevor Preston, the Captain of the football team. His two sidekicks were in the
back seat, Logan and Noah.
"Aw, look, guys. The geeks just missed the bus." Trevor fake whined.
In these situations, I just shut down. I thought it was for the best at the time, but fuck, if I could go back and punch that guy.
"You know what? Why don't you mind your own fucking business, Trevor?" Jujubee squinted her eyes at him.
“Wow, little fiesty, Juju.” He continued, "How about this? We all say sorry, and we can both ride with us to school."
'Hell fucking no.' I thought.
"Oh yeah? And what's the catch?" Jujubee raised a brow.
"You let me feel your tits," Trevor smirked, his two cronies snickered.
"Ah, there it is. I thought that was what your pea-sized brain would come up with." Jujubee nodded her head.
"So, hey, Brianna," Trevor shifted his attention, "You're awfully quiet. Don't I at least get a hello?"
I was still frozen, feeling my anxiety brewing within.
"Dude, don't be so sensitive. You know, if she opens her mouth, she'll just drool all over herself." Logan added, the three axe wounds beginning to snicker again.
I felt like I should have at least opened my mouth to prove them wrong, or maybe spit on Trevor's car. But still, I just stood there.
"Trevor, if you don't fuck off right now, I'm gonna key your car." Jujubee threatened.
"Juju." I tried to stop her.
"Wouldn't even have the chance, sweetheart. Either of you bitches come near my car; you'll never walk the halls again."
How gentleman-like, threatening two girls. Funny how our safety was the price to pay for a car. Oh, men.
"Keep that in mind," Trevor concluded before driving away with dumb and dumber.
"You didn't have to do that." I looked at Jujubee.
"I'm sorry they're such assholes." She replied, taking my hand in hers.
I shook it off, however. "No, I mean, I wish you wouldn't do that."
Jujubee crossed her brows, "what? So I'm supposed to sit there and just take it? No fucking way."
"I know. But," I paused, "they kinda scare me. You know?"
"Brie, there's nothing more pathetic than a man sweating over the safety of his ride." She retook my hand, "Don't be afraid of a cunt like him."
"I mean, I can try not to. But I can't make any promises." I shrugged. "Anyway, what's the plan? How are we supposed to get there on time?"
Jujubee was silent for a moment before replying with, "my Mom?"
Her Mom did end up giving us a ride, much to my dismay. I would have preferred to take the day off. Or better yet, to just fucking drop out altogether. But Jujubee was always there to reassure me - I adored that bitch. I would have fucking taken a bullet for her.
I would like to say that it wasn't just Jujubee and me, that we had a group of more friends. But these guys, I never really counted them as friends.
A year prior, we both decided to try and improve our social lives by joining a club. The only one that would accept us was the chess club. Every other member was a guy, and they were nerds. Not that Jujubee and I minded. However, the problem was that they only let us in because...well, do I even need to explain?
"So, Brianna," Jimmy decided to approach me at the end of one session, licking his hand and sweeping his hair from his face. "Because I beat you twice today, what do I get?"
"...Excuse me?"
"My prize. What do I get??" He put an arm around my shoulders.
I was puzzled, "Uh, you can have my chicken nuggets at lunch."
His grin was beginning to disappear. "Oh, I was thinking of something else. A kiss, maybe?"
I felt bad for doing it, but my fight or flight response told me to just run from the room. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but these guys were just on another level of thirst. And it wasn't just me who they flirted with. Jujubee had informed me of a time Arnold convinced her to make out with him. She was all for it until she realised how awful of a kisser he was.
And as the boys became more desperate, we decided that we were better off alone.
Again, I was so grateful for Jujubee. I was surprised she stuck around, considering she had seen me at my worst when we were still so young. How the fuck had she not developed
issues of her own?
Jujubee was the number one reason I even found the strength to just get up in the morning, drag my ass to school, and do my work - Well, aside from wanting to get good grades so I could go to a good college.
The second reason? Blair.
Unlike me, she was thriving. Our lives were totally cliche - me being the kid who grew up to be the nerd who only speaks when it's to answer a question. And Blair, growing up to be the head cheerleader. And I was still very much in love with her. What a fucking cliche.
I avoided Blair at all costs for several reasons;
differing social circles (in my case, lack of),
her boyfriend, who was the Captain of the soccer team and wasn't shy about giving me and Jujubee grief,
her friends,
and, of course, my massive crush on her.
So, why was Blair the second reason as to why I dragged myself to school?
Her smile. That was enough.
As much as I tried to avoid her, the world decided to do a big "fuck you" on me and sometimes put us into situations together. And every time, I'd be internally freaking out.
The worst was when we were both 16. It was that time of the year when the school would invite someone to subject us to the most humiliating moment of our lives. How the fuck were you supposed to put a condom on a banana without bursting out laughing? How the fuck were you supposed to sit there and keep a straight face when the educator used words like 'flaps'?
We filed into the class, Jujubee and me taking seats at the back of the room. We knew this was going to be hilarious, so best to avoid the attention of the teacher.
"Juju, I know you are dying to make jokes during this, but I'm begging you. Please don't." I spoke quietly to her as other students filed in.
"But you know I'm going to, right?" Jujubee smirked, putting her bag on the ground.
"No. We wanna keep a low profile. If we laugh, we draw attention, and then we risk being singled out. You know? We'll be at the front of the class demonstrating whatever this bitch asks us." Obviously, I was referring to putting condoms on bananas and the like.
Juju, however, raised a brow, "I wouldn't mind that, babe. Don't worry. We won't need to take our clothes off."
I stared at her for a few seconds, unable to think of how to respond to that. Jujubee winked, and I forced myself to look away. "That's not what I meant."
Blair strolled in with Denali and Rosé, already I could feel my stomach knotting. They went to sit together somewhere in the middle.
"Ugh, nope. I don't think so, ladies."
Ah, Miss Jaida Hall, if only I could have warned you not to say what you were about to say.
Somehow Blair and the two others knew she was speaking to them.
She continued, "This is an important class, and I'm not gonna have you all laughing and snickering during it."
She had a point. The three girls usually whispered to each other in class, giggling about all sorts of shit. It was never anything malicious about the lesson or teachers, just inside jokes with each other, pretty harmless stuff. But it pissed the teachers off so much.
"You can't be serious, right?" Denali replied, clearly scandalised.
"Very serious, actually." Ms Hall nodded, "Denali, sit with Brian. Rosé, with Gigi. Blair, with Brianna."
I grabbed Jujubee by the wrist, the pressure making her squeak. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. Blair was not rolling her eyes as she made her way to the back towards me. This was not fucking happening.
As instructed, Jujubee stood up and let Blair sit down, moving to sit somewhere else. I was alone with the one person I tried my hardest to avoid.
She slouched down in her chair, arms folded like she was already over it. I wanted so badly to ask if she was OK. But I couldn't bring myself to.
And as the lights turned off and the sex-ed lady pressed play on the video player, I wished I had said something.
As the way too enthusiastic narrator explained step by step the act of sexual intercourse, I tried hiding the blush on my face with my hair. I tried so hard to focus on what I was being taught.
The truth was, I was still a virgin, as were many of the others in the room, I'm sure. But unlike them, I had no idea how sex worked. It wasn't something I ever gave time to think about.
I felt a tapping on my hand. My body tensed as I glanced to the side. Blair was looking at the screen, then at me, then her fingers brushed against my hand. I stared back, unsure of what was happening but also knowing full well what she was doing.
She leaned closer and pressed her lips on mine.
…
OK, that's not what happened. Life wasn't a movie. This was the beginning of the fantasies.
Was I ashamed because I was thinking about Blair like that? Or was I ashamed that I enjoyed thinking of Blair like that?
"This is ridiculous," Blair whispered.
Was I supposed to say something back? "What do you mean?" I
whispered back.
"Do they actually think we're that dumb? We all know how sex works. We don't need this stupid class." Blair rolled her eyes.
I almost told her that I belonged to the small percentage that didn't know. But I stopped myself. I couldn't bear her knowing that information. Instead, I went with the awkward, "haha. Yeaaahhhh…"
For the rest of the film, we sat in silence. Still trying to focus on the screen. Not the absolute stunner sitting next to me.
And as if by magic, the video ended. I wanted to say I was relieved, but I couldn't lie; what I learned from the film left me nauseous. He puts his hoo-ha in her what, now??
"Well, that was really cool and hip, right?" The educator enthused. I cringed internally. No woman wearing a crucifix necklace and ankle-length skirt has the right to use words like 'cool' and 'hip'. "I know it's probably all so confusing. So that's why I'm here to answer any of your questions, dudes and dudettes."
Already, one of the boys put a hand up.
"Go ahead, homie."
"What about the other hole?" He said with a straight face before his friends started laughing. He laughed back as he fired one of them. "You know. The back door?"
Ms Hall shot him the 'look'. He was toast.
The sex educator fixed her hair quite uncomfortable, "Well, there's a reason that is an out hole, young man. I warn all of you, do not go down that road. You will get aids and die. Now, does anybody else have a question?" The educator rambled, fixing her hair awkwardly.
I heard the rustling of clothes beside me, and glancing around, Blair had her hand straight up in the air.
"Yes, sweetheart?" Sex Ed lady pointed to her.
"OK, so this is interesting and all, but I was just wondering, what about non-heterosexual sex?" Her brows knit for a moment.
I looked around at her now. The breath caught in my throat.
"I'm sorry?" Sex Ed lady asked.
"You know. Man on man. Girl on girl. What about all of that?" Blair raised a brow. "I mean, you gotta know there's more than just heterosexual people out there. Maybe some even in this room right now."
"Blair." Ms Hall began.
"Because, if you disagree, then that's ridiculous. Oh, and if you think aids is some kind of death sentence, then you seriously need to educate yourself."
Sex ed lady looked appalled, her Christian beliefs quite clearly threatened.
"That's it. Get out." Ms Hall stood up.
Blair huffed, pushing her seat back, lifted her bag and left the room, Ms Hall following behind.
"OK. So, any other questions? Reasonable questions only, please."
Jujubee was looking over her shoulder at me now, sharing the same expression I did.
Thank God for lunch next period.
Jujubee and I were hiding at the back of the school, in an alley between the building itself and the old workshops. The perfect hiding place for a smoke and to freak the fuck out about specific events.
"Juju, she knows. She knows I'm a lesbian. She knows I like her." I paced. "I'm moving. That's it." I stopped. "But why would she speak up for me of all people? It doesn't make sense." My eyes widened. "Unless she's also a lesbian. I mean, that makes sense, right?"
Jujubee had been sitting on the wall, patiently listening to my manic ramblings. The first few minutes, she was just as astounded. But the more I theorised, rambling on and on, she was over it. "I highly doubt that considering the boyfriend."
"Then she must know. Why else would she say it? I highly doubt there are other gays in that class. Speaking of which, I had no idea lesbians could have sex like; how does that work. I'm gonna look into that somehow. But getting back to the point, if she did know, why would she speak out for me of all people?"
My ramblings were non-stop.
I tried my best to avoid Blair for the rest of the day, not that I could, considering we were both in the same last period. Blair's outburst was the talk of the school. I wasn't sure if it was a positive response or not.
The only thing I did know was Trevor was pissed.
"Brie, look." Jujubee tapped me. I turned from my locker and looked where everyone else seemed to be
looking.
Just down the corridor, Trevor was standing over Blair, their conversation clearly heated.
People were shamelessly moving closer, Jujubee following in their path.
"Juju, don't," I whispered.
But she didn't listen. I went after her as if it would stop her.
"Trevor, this isn't that big of a deal," Blair said.
"Not a big deal? Blair, do you know what the guys are saying? They think you're gonna dump me for a girl. Do you know how humiliating that is?" Trevor held a hand to his chest
"And what if I did?" Blair challenged.
The few people standing around cooed with excitement.
"Oh, please. Don't get all cocky now that you have an audience." Trevor pointed.
But Blair took a step closer to him. "What, 'cause you know you're the one who looks like an idiot? Maybe if you weren't so insecure, you'd know I would never do that to you."
"Don't call me an idiot." Trevor lowered his tone, choosing purposely to ignore her reassurance.
"Fine. But don't criticise me for a valid question I asked in a class you weren't even a part of. It's none of your business, no one's business for that matter." Blair bit back.
"I can do what I want, Blair."
"OK. Whatever." Blair brushed past him.
Trevor quickly spun around, grabbing her arm. "No, we're not done having this conversation."
My stomach twisted.
"Let go of my arm, Trevor." Blair tugged, her voice cracking.
Trevor did as was told now that the air was thick with tension, "We are not done talking," he stressed.
Blair took a step back, "Yeah, we are, actually," and she turned to walk away.
"If you walk away right now, we're finished." Trevor threatened.
It was as if time was at a standstill, waiting for her reaction. But at the same time, it felt as though time was counting down. Like we were in a competition show. The contestant has to decide before time runs out, while the audience yells, 'DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!'
No one was shouting, but you could feel everyone's excitement.
Blair's lip curled upwards. "OK. Fine by me."
And, finally, she walked off.
The people were cooing with excitement again.
"Shut up!" Trevor shouted.
I grabbed Jujubee by the shoulder and ushered her back.
Trevor kicked his locker, the thud echoing through the halls.
That was the last straw. Knowing Trevor, he'd take his anger out on us. It was time to flee the scene.
It was all Jujubee wanted to talk about for the rest of the day. Now I knew how she felt during my smoke break.
But I couldn't blame her. The scene played in my head over and over again, leading to so many questions. Was there more to this breakup? Did he grab Blair like that all the time? What would happen now? Would she find a new guy? A girl, maybe?
I came to the conclusion that Blair and Trevor's breakup was neither good nor bad.
Bad because, as I said before, now he had more pent up anger from the humiliation of being so publicly dumped. Therefore, Jujubee and I would most likely be subject to more harassment.
Good, because maybe Blair did like girls. Maybe there was still some little chance for us to be together.
But if we were going to be together, there was one issue; I still had no fucking idea how lesbian sex worked.
Cut to later that night, I'm in my room, sitting in front of my computer. I needed to distract myself from my thoughts of the breakup. While the scratchy dial-up tones emitted the machine, I psyched myself up. Even though I knew sex was normal to learn about at that age, it was still daunting.
With shaky hands, I searched 'lesbian sex'. And fuck was it a mistake. What I wanted was educational articles, guides, etc.
And what I got was porn.
I watched all but a few minutes, all the painfully bad acting scenes that took place before the main event. Upon hearing the first moan, I clicked out as fast as I could.
Looking behind me, Piggie was just playing with a stuffed animal on my bed. "You saw that, right?"
He looked at me with perked ears.
I still felt judged, so I opened my bedroom door and let him out.
I needed to be exact. 'How do lesbians have sex?'
And Brianna Caldwell was never the
same. My mind was opened that night.
This was no mistake. This was a surprise.
I couldn't look away from the computer screen, no matter how slow the Internet connection was.
All of this information was all too much but not enough at the same time. And it made me feel less nauseated than I felt after watching that stupid video in class.
And I built up the courage to go back to that porn site. And I watched every damn second. Then I watched another one. And another. And just one more 'cause why the fuck not?
My bedroom door opened. "Brianna, I'm ordering - -"
"Get out," I shouted, closing the site down like my life depended on it.
But she stood there for a few seconds, eyes wide and hand still on the door frame. "Honey, are you - -"
"Mom, oh my god. Can you just - -" I couldn't even form a proper sentence.
She gave an apologetic look and closed the door. But she remained on the other side. "I just wanted you to know that I'm ordering pizza for Grandpa and me. Do you want some?"
My forehead was in my hand now. "Yes."
"What kind?"
"Just…" I wanted to shout, "Pepperoni."
And with that, she left. But that wasn't the end of it.
When the food arrived, I waited a few minutes before going downstairs to grab a few slices. Grandpa was in the living room watching an old rerun of The A-Team. But she was there, in the kitchen, as if she was waiting for me.
"Honey, look. I know you're getting to that age where you're curious about certain things and - -"
"Mom, no. Please, don't do this." I whined.
"I know. I know. I just wanted to let you know that this is natural, and…" she continued to deliver the same talk we all got in class.
My eyes were wide, face red with humiliation.
-_-_-_-
2020
I picked up a slice of pepperoni pizza, instantly reminded of the traumatic event. OK, maybe that was too strong of a word to use. But of course, you are going to dread the thought of that time your parent talked to you about sex.
I walked into the living room, pizza slice in hand, trying not to dwell on the memory.
"So, Brianna. Any update on the love life?" Tamisha asked. I loved that bitch; being one of Mom's closest friends, she was present for most of my life. But she always had a tendency to ask questions I wasn't up for answering.
I took a bite from my pizza and answered with a full mouth, "dry."
"Girl, you're almost 40." She continued.
I was ready to challenge her because I was actually just 33 when Mom took her turn to speak.
"Yeah, get yourself a man and make me a Grandma already." She wasn't serious. She knew I hated these types of talks, but that didn't stop her from encouraging the others.
The funny thing about the time she caught me watching porn, she never clocked it was girl on girl. Of all the years I've been on this planet, I hadn't given her a clue that I was a lesbian. Would I ever tell her? I didn't see the point. From previous failed relationships and being too busy with my job, I wouldn't end up with someone anyway.
But of course, I'd make an exception for a certain someone.
Monét poured the first round of shots. I already knew I'd hate myself the next day. I wasn't drunk already. Just sort of buzzed.
But that changed within an hour. I was hammered. Mom, Monét and all her friends were singing all the old songs in the living room.
I was out in the kitchen, trying to drink 8 glasses of water. I only managed 3.
Piggie ran in and put his paws up on my knee.
"There he is. My baby. My fucking son." I slid down to the ground and let him sit in my lap. "How is your night going?"
Just great, Brianna! Anyway, how about that Blair girl, huh? Piggie's non-existent voice said.
"Oh yeah," my eyes narrowed.
I unlocked my phone and opened up Facebook. And I bravely searched up her name. I say bravely because it does take some balls to go and stalk your crushes social media accounts. All it took to fuck everything up was the slip of a finger, and before you know it, you've liked a post or sent a friend request.
"Let's do some digging, Piggie." I cuddled him.
Immediately, she was the top result, with Jujubee
being the only mutual friend.
"Yeah, girl. Infiltration." I commented as I clicked into her profile. And then her profile picture. "Holy shit."
She hadn't aged. She still looked as young and radiant as she did back in high school.
"What do you think, Piggie?" I showed him the screen.
He glanced at it before tucking his head under his arms.
The enthusiasm. I rolled my eyes.
I looked at her info. 'Single'. Promising.
Scrolling down to her timeline, I noticed she didn't post a lot. Fair enough. Facebook was becoming a dead site in recent years.
There were just your average Facebook posts, sharing giveaway posts, a post from an old lady saying, 'Blair, this is Granny. Could you go to Walmart and get me some applesauce? Love granny xx', a shared post from a guy called George Miller. And my finger stopped scrolling upon seeing Blair holding a baby.
"Oh God, we've encountered our first obstacle, Piggie," I whined.
I clicked into the comments. That George Miller guy commented, 'congrats, Blair!' She replied, 'thank you, but she's my cousin's lol'.
"Thank you, Jesus." I put my phone down for a moment to put my hand up to the good lord.
I scrolled some more, seeing many inspirational quotes, a link to Adore You by Harry Styles. And a picture of her. With that George Miller guy. With his arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her temple.
I could feel my heart sink the more I studied it. Yeah, I knew Blair and I were never meant to be anyway. But it was still upsetting.
Relax. They could be friends. Yeah, that's right. Friends hold each other and act all affectionate, right?? I cuddle with Jujubee sometimes. That doesn't mean anything. Right?
I needed evidence, just anything, to make it not true. I scrolled some more.
There was a video, she was sitting on her sofa, with a girl playing the guitar sitting on the other end.
"I've been running races on empty,
Pour it up 'cause my cup so empty.
Gotta make time for the real me.
I've been running, I've been running on empty."
And my nerves were settled again. I had only heard Blair sing a few times. She and her friends would pretend they were famous singers in early elementary years, and she'd always be the best. Then another time was in high school, at the winter talent show. I specifically remember it being A moment like this by Kelly Clarkson. It was unreal.
'Jujubee 💋💅🏽 is typing…'
I clicked into Snapchat before she even had a chance to type the whole message.
"Do you remember Jujubee?" I asked Piggie. Again, he was silent.
'I hope you're having fun, babe ❤ lv u'.
"Thanks," was all I could manage to type.
A shadow cast over me. I looked up to see Monét join me on the ground.
"Hey, girl." She greeted me.
"Hi, Aunt Monét." I smiled.
Piggie hopped off my lap and onto hers.
"Aunt Monét? Honey, you haven't called me that since middle school." She smiled.
I returned the smile, only mine probably looking goofy. "I'm just wasted."
"I noticed. No more shots for you anyway." She noted, taking a drink from her own bottle. "Anyway, how's the project?"
"We got fucking Ed Sheeran involved." I then cursed myself internally for bringing it up.
"I heard. Your Mom was telling me. Ugh, girl, why him? Why not someone like…" she paused to think, "like Beyonce. Or Lady Gaga."
"OK, man-hater." I quipped, reaching over to pet Piggie.
"Not true. Not all men are bad." Monét pointed out. "Speaking of which, when are you getting yourself one?"
I could have given her the usual 'I don't have time for men's talk. But the alcohol said no. "Monét, I like girls."
And I felt no shame in saying it.
A moment of silence fell between us before she asked, "for real?"
"Yeah." I nodded.
"Does anyone else know?"
"Yeah. Juju. And Piggie probably." I replied, leaving one more name out for the sole purpose I didn't want to get into that.
"And Mom?"
"Nope."
She nodded. "I guess this is one of these aunty-niece confidentiality things?"
"Uh-huh." I smiled. Bless Aunt Monét.
"Well, no matter who you live, we still love you." She laughed for a moment before taking another drink.
I knew
she was right. Maybe coming out to Mom wasn't such a bad idea.
"You know what, Brianna?" She paused, "Grandpa would be so proud of you, right?"
My smile slowly began to drop. Fuck, the touchy subject. "Oh, I...thanks."
I thought the change in my mood was hard to miss, but Monét clearly had. "You and I ain't ever talked about him since...you know."
"OK," I said quietly, feeling like my chest was a fist, beginning to clench tighter and tighter.
"And sometimes, it's just good to look back on - -"
"I gotta go." I quickly stood up, feeling the dark fog already come over me. I rushed from the room, my aunty calling my name and apologising. I avoided going into the living room, rushing up the stairs and racing for the bathroom.
As soon as the door was locked, I let myself crumble, my face hidden beneath shaking hands, a cry clogged in my throat just begging to belt out. Mom would definitely hear it. I wasn't going to ruin her day. Absolutely not.
Tags: rpdr fanfiction // s10 // as5 // miz cracker // jujubee // blair st clair // blair x cracker // denali foxx // rose // fluff // coming of age // hurt/comfort // lesbian au // highschool au // grinder // tw grief // tw homophobia
[Cover image here]
AN: Hey, guys! I hope yall are enjoying this fic so far! Throw me a like please if you do.
TW for this chapter: Grief // Homophobia
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2003
High School. The bane of my existence.
Just as I thought elementary and middle school were terrible, High School really was something else.
From my childhood therapy sessions, I learned to conceal my anger, avoid freakouts, and channel my emotions into other things. It was good for me, yeah. But it also made me a more reserved person.
Things still made me angry, the other kids at school being a primary key to that. But I never defended myself. Ever.
Of course, Jujubee always had my back. Only in later years did I learn to appreciate the times she'd yell at the other kids, telling them to fuck off and whatnot. But back then, I wished she hadn't. It only drew more negative attention. All I wanted was to get through those tough years.
I would come home a lot, look at pictures of myself as a child. And I'd be so mad because only then did I see that I wasn't an ugly kid. I was adorable. But, God clearly had favourites 'cause puberty did not do me any favours.
If only I had grown up in a more modern time when no one gave a shit about looks.
When people were outspoken about the cruelty that came with shaming someone for their looks. When people were more aware of the psychological damage that could do.
Again, God had favourites.
From years of my eyesight getting worse and needing a new pair of glasses every time I went to the eye doctor, I had thick-rimmed frames that made me look straight out of the 70s. And the lenses made my eyes look huge. I looked like Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys.
My hair was bigger but full of split ends due to lack of giving a shit about it. I begged Mom to let me bleach it blonde. She always straight up refused.
I had braces for a whole year which, yeah, many people had braces, but one time while answering a question in class, I drooled. And no one let me hear the end of it.
And makeup wasn't something I really fucked with. I tried it once, safe and sound in my own bedroom, and it looked woeful. Instead of working to get better, I accepted defeat in that I would always be ugly.
"I'm serious, girl. The foundation was so bad. And it was too dark." I ranted to Jujubee as we headed to the bus stop. I was trying to smoke my cigarette as fast as I could before getting there. Mom never knew, and what she didn't know couldn't kill her. Of course, I didn't just go into the store and buy them myself. Instead, I took one a day from my Grandpa's supply.
"Girl, you gotta test it first." She pointed out, adjusting her bag straps.
"Juju, I got the lightest colour they had. I don't fucking get it. Every other girl in the school uses it. Maybelline shouldn't sell this shit."
"You just need to find a different brand." She grabbed my shoulder and pulled me
closer, "OK, don't tell my Mom, but I tried some of her MAC shit the other day, and my skin looked fucking flawless." She let me go, took my cigarette from me, taking a toke herself.
"Well, how am I supposed to get my hands on that?" I took the cig back. "I don't see any MAC stores around here."
"Oh, yeah? Well, you know what your Other World self would do?" Jujubee's brow raised, a sweet grin appearing on her mischievous face. "She would say fuck school, hop on the next bus to Cleveland and go straight to the MAC store."
Blowing out some smoke, I looked at her, "Well, Other World you wouldn't be encouraging that sort of behaviour."
"No, she wouldn't 'cause she'd be the first on the bus." Jujubee countered. "And she'd start the sing-song."
"Yeah, well other world me would out-sing you 'cause she's a star. She's a fucking diva, bitch. Mariah Carey has nothing on her."
We were too caught up in our fantasy world; we almost missed the vehicle driving past us. Only when we saw the cackling faces of the boys at the back of the bus did realisation take over.
We were going to miss the bus.
"Fuck." I uttered, watching the guys still flipping us off as they moved further and further away.
To make matters worse, a car pulled up beside us. And of fucking course, it was Trevor Preston, the Captain of the football team. His two sidekicks were in the back seat, Logan and Noah.
"Aw, look, guys. The geeks just missed the bus." Trevor fake whined.
In these situations, I just shut down. I thought it was for the best at the time, but fuck, if I could go back and punch that guy.
"You know what? Why don't you mind your own fucking business, Trevor?" Jujubee squinted her eyes at him.
“Wow, little fiesty, Juju.�� He continued, "How about this? We all say sorry, and we can both ride with us to school."
'Hell fucking no.' I thought.
"Oh yeah? And what's the catch?" Jujubee raised a brow.
"You let me feel your tits," Trevor smirked, his two cronies snickered.
"Ah, there it is. I thought that was what your pea-sized brain would come up with." Jujubee nodded her head.
"So, hey, Brianna," Trevor shifted his attention, "You're awfully quiet. Don't I at least get a hello?"
I was still frozen, feeling my anxiety brewing within.
"Dude, don't be so sensitive. You know, if she opens her mouth, she'll just drool all over herself." Logan added, the three axe wounds beginning to snicker again.
I felt like I should have at least opened my mouth to prove them wrong, or maybe spit on Trevor's car. But still, I just stood there.
"Trevor, if you don't fuck off right now, I'm gonna key your car." Jujubee threatened.
"Juju." I tried to stop her.
"Wouldn't even have the chance, sweetheart. Either of you bitches come near my car; you'll never walk the halls again."
How gentleman-like, threatening two girls. Funny how our safety was the price to pay for a car. Oh, men.
"Keep that in mind," Trevor concluded before driving away with dumb and dumber.
"You didn't have to do that." I looked at Jujubee.
"I'm sorry they're such assholes." She replied, taking my hand in hers.
I shook it off, however. "No, I mean, I wish you wouldn't do that."
Jujubee crossed her brows, "what? So I'm supposed to sit there and just take it? No fucking way."
"I know. But," I paused, "they kinda scare me. You know?"
"Brie, there's nothing more pathetic than a man sweating over the safety of his ride." She retook my hand, "Don't be afraid of a cunt like him."
"I mean, I can try not to. But I can't make any promises." I shrugged. "Anyway, what's the plan? How are we supposed to get there on time?"
Jujubee was silent for a moment before replying with, "my Mom?"
Her Mom did end up giving us a ride, much to my dismay. I would have preferred to take the day off. Or better yet, to just fucking drop out altogether. But Jujubee was always there to reassure me - I adored that bitch. I would have fucking taken a bullet for her.
I would like to say that it wasn't just Jujubee and me, that we had a group of more friends. But these guys, I never really counted them as
friends.
A year prior, we both decided to try and improve our social lives by joining a club. The only one that would accept us was the chess club. Every other member was a guy, and they were nerds. Not that Jujubee and I minded. However, the problem was that they only let us in because...well, do I even need to explain?
"So, Brianna," Jimmy decided to approach me at the end of one session, licking his hand and sweeping his hair from his face. "Because I beat you twice today, what do I get?"
"...Excuse me?"
"My prize. What do I get??" He put an arm around my shoulders.
I was puzzled, "Uh, you can have my chicken nuggets at lunch."
His grin was beginning to disappear. "Oh, I was thinking of something else. A kiss, maybe?"
I felt bad for doing it, but my fight or flight response told me to just run from the room. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but these guys were just on another level of thirst. And it wasn't just me who they flirted with. Jujubee had informed me of a time Arnold convinced her to make out with him. She was all for it until she realised how awful of a kisser he was.
And as the boys became more desperate, we decided that we were better off alone.
Again, I was so grateful for Jujubee. I was surprised she stuck around, considering she had seen me at my worst when we were still so young. How the fuck had she not developed issues of her own?
Jujubee was the number one reason I even found the strength to just get up in the morning, drag my ass to school, and do my work - Well, aside from wanting to get good grades so I could go to a good college.
The second reason? Blair.
Unlike me, she was thriving. Our lives were totally cliche - me being the kid who grew up to be the nerd who only speaks when it's to answer a question. And Blair, growing up to be the head cheerleader. And I was still very much in love with her. What a fucking cliche.
I avoided Blair at all costs for several reasons;
differing social circles (in my case, lack of),
her boyfriend, who was the Captain of the soccer team and wasn't shy about giving me and Jujubee grief,
her friends,
and, of course, my massive crush on her.
So, why was Blair the second reason as to why I dragged myself to school?
Her smile. That was enough.
As much as I tried to avoid her, the world decided to do a big "fuck you" on me and sometimes put us into situations together. And every time, I'd be internally freaking out.
The worst was when we were both 16. It was that time of the year when the school would invite someone to subject us to the most humiliating moment of our lives. How the fuck were you supposed to put a condom on a banana without bursting out laughing? How the fuck were you supposed to sit there and keep a straight face when the educator used words like 'flaps'?
We filed into the class, Jujubee and me taking seats at the back of the room. We knew this was going to be hilarious, so best to avoid the attention of the teacher.
"Juju, I know you are dying to make jokes during this, but I'm begging you. Please don't." I spoke quietly to her as other students filed in.
"But you know I'm going to, right?" Jujubee smirked, putting her bag on the ground.
"No. We wanna keep a low profile. If we laugh, we draw attention, and then we risk being singled out. You know? We'll be at the front of the class demonstrating whatever this bitch asks us." Obviously, I was referring to putting condoms on bananas and the like.
Juju, however, raised a brow, "I wouldn't mind that, babe. Don't worry. We won't need to take our clothes off."
I stared at her for a few seconds, unable to think of how to respond to that. Jujubee winked, and I forced myself to look away. "That's not what I meant."
Blair strolled in with Denali and Rosé, already I could feel my stomach knotting. They went to sit together somewhere in the middle.
"Ugh, nope. I don't think so, ladies."
Ah, Miss Jaida Hall, if only I could have warned you not to say what you were about to say.
Somehow Blair and the two others knew she was speaking to them.
She continued, "This is an important class, and I'm not gonna have you all laughing and snickering during it."
She had a point. The three girls usually whispered to each other in class, giggling about all sorts of shit. It was never anything malicious about the lesson or teachers, just inside jokes with each other, pretty harmless stuff. But it pissed the teachers off so much.
"You can't be serious, right?" Denali replied, clearly scandalised.
"Very serious, actually." Ms Hall nodded, "Denali, sit with Brian. Rosé, with Gigi. Blair, with Brianna."
I grabbed Jujubee by the wrist, the pressure making her squeak. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. Blair was not rolling her eyes as she made her way to the back towards me. This was not fucking happening.
As instructed, Jujubee stood up and let Blair sit down, moving to sit somewhere else. I was alone with the one person I tried my hardest to avoid.
She slouched down in her chair, arms folded like she was already over it. I wanted so badly to ask if she was OK. But I couldn't bring myself to.
And as the lights turned off and the sex-ed lady pressed play on the video player, I wished I had said something.
As the way too enthusiastic narrator explained step by step the act of sexual intercourse, I tried hiding the blush on my face with my hair. I tried so hard to focus on what I was being taught.
The truth was, I was still a virgin, as were many of the others in the room, I'm sure. But unlike them, I had no idea how sex worked. It wasn't something I ever gave time to think about.
I felt a tapping on my hand. My body tensed as I glanced to the side. Blair was looking at the screen, then at me, then her fingers brushed against my hand. I stared back, unsure of what was happening but also knowing full well what she was doing.
She leaned closer and pressed her lips on mine.
…
OK, that's not what happened. Life wasn't a movie. This was the beginning of the fantasies.
Was I ashamed because I was thinking about Blair like that? Or was I ashamed that I enjoyed thinking of Blair like that?
"This is ridiculous," Blair whispered.
Was I supposed to say something back? "What do you mean?" I
whispered back.
"Do they actually think we're that dumb? We all know how sex works. We don't need this stupid class." Blair rolled her eyes.
I almost told her that I belonged to the small percentage that didn't know. But I stopped myself. I couldn't bear her knowing that information. Instead, I went with the awkward, "haha. Yeaaahhhh…"
For the rest of the film, we sat in silence. Still trying to focus on the screen. Not the absolute stunner sitting next to me.
And as if by magic, the video ended. I wanted to say I was relieved, but I couldn't lie; what I learned from the film left me nauseous. He puts his hoo-ha in her what, now??
"Well, that was really cool and hip, right?" The educator enthused. I cringed internally. No woman wearing a crucifix necklace and ankle-length skirt has the right to use words like 'cool' and 'hip'. "I know it's probably all so confusing. So that's why I'm here to answer any of your questions, dudes and dudettes."
Already, one of the boys put a hand up.
"Go ahead, homie."
"What about the other hole?" He said with a straight face before his friends started laughing. He laughed back as he fired one of them. "You know. The back door?"
Ms Hall shot him the 'look'. He was toast.
The sex educator fixed her hair quite uncomfortable, "Well, there's a reason that is an out hole, young man. I warn all of you, do not go down that road. You will get aids and die. Now, does anybody else have a question?" The educator rambled, fixing her hair awkwardly.
I heard the rustling of clothes beside me, and glancing around, Blair had her hand straight up in the air.
"Yes, sweetheart?" Sex Ed lady pointed to her.
"OK, so this is interesting and all, but I was just wondering, what about non-heterosexual sex?" Her brows knit for a moment.
I looked around at her now. The breath caught in my throat.
"I'm sorry?" Sex Ed lady asked.
"You know. Man on man. Girl on girl. What about all of that?" Blair raised a brow. "I mean, you gotta know there's more than just heterosexual people out there. Maybe some even in this room right now."
"Blair." Ms Hall began.
"Because, if you disagree, then that's ridiculous. Oh, and if you think aids is some kind of death sentence, then you seriously need to educate yourself."
Sex ed lady looked appalled, her Christian beliefs quite clearly threatened.
"That's it. Get out." Ms Hall stood up.
Blair huffed, pushing her seat back, lifted her bag and left the room, Ms Hall following behind.
"OK. So, any other questions? Reasonable questions only, please."
Jujubee was looking over her shoulder at me now, sharing the same expression I did.
Thank God for lunch next period.
Jujubee and I were hiding at the back of the school, in an alley between the building itself and the old workshops. The perfect hiding place for a smoke and to freak the fuck out about specific events.
"Juju, she knows. She knows I'm a lesbian. She knows I like her." I paced. "I'm moving. That's it." I stopped. "But why would she speak up for me of all people? It doesn't make sense." My eyes widened. "Unless she's also a lesbian. I mean, that makes sense, right?"
Jujubee had been sitting on the wall, patiently listening to my manic ramblings. The first few minutes, she was just as astounded. But the more I theorised, rambling on and on, she was over it. "I highly doubt that considering the boyfriend."
"Then she must know. Why else would she say it? I highly doubt there are other gays in that class. Speaking of which, I had no idea lesbians could have sex like; how does that work. I'm gonna look into that somehow. But getting back to the point, if she did know, why would she speak out for me of all people?"
My ramblings were non-stop.
I tried my best to avoid Blair for the rest of the day, not that I could, considering we were both in the same last period. Blair's outburst was the talk of the school. I wasn't sure if it was a positive response or not.
The only thing I did know was Trevor was pissed.
"Brie, look." Jujubee tapped me. I turned from my locker and looked where everyone else seemed to be
looking.
Just down the corridor, Trevor was standing over Blair, their conversation clearly heated.
People were shamelessly moving closer, Jujubee following in their path.
"Juju, don't," I whispered.
But she didn't listen. I went after her as if it would stop her.
"Trevor, this isn't that big of a deal," Blair said.
"Not a big deal? Blair, do you know what the guys are saying? They think you're gonna dump me for a girl. Do you know how humiliating that is?" Trevor held a hand to his chest
"And what if I did?" Blair challenged.
The few people standing around cooed with excitement.
"Oh, please. Don't get all cocky now that you have an audience." Trevor pointed.
But Blair took a step closer to him. "What, 'cause you know you're the one who looks like an idiot? Maybe if you weren't so insecure, you'd know I would never do that to you."
"Don't call me an idiot." Trevor lowered his tone, choosing purposely to ignore her reassurance.
"Fine. But don't criticise me for a valid question I asked in a class you weren't even a part of. It's none of your business, no one's business for that matter." Blair bit back.
"I can do what I want, Blair."
"OK. Whatever." Blair brushed past him.
Trevor quickly spun around, grabbing her arm. "No, we're not done having this conversation."
My stomach twisted.
"Let go of my arm, Trevor." Blair tugged, her voice cracking.
Trevor did as was told now that the air was thick with tension, "We are not done talking," he stressed.
Blair took a step back, "Yeah, we are, actually," and she turned to walk away.
"If you walk away right now, we're finished." Trevor threatened.
It was as if time was at a standstill, waiting for her reaction. But at the same time, it felt as though time was counting down. Like we were in a competition show. The contestant has to decide before time runs out, while the audience yells, 'DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!'
No one was shouting, but you could feel everyone's excitement.
Blair's lip curled upwards. "OK. Fine by me."
And, finally, she walked off.
The people were cooing with excitement again.
"Shut up!" Trevor shouted.
I grabbed Jujubee by the shoulder and ushered her back.
Trevor kicked his locker, the thud echoing through the halls.
That was the last straw. Knowing Trevor, he'd take his anger out on us. It was time to flee the scene.
It was all Jujubee wanted to talk about for the rest of the day. Now I knew how she felt during my smoke break.
But I couldn't blame her. The scene played in my head over and over again, leading to so many questions. Was there more to this breakup? Did he grab Blair like that all the time? What would happen now? Would she find a new guy? A girl, maybe?
I came to the conclusion that Blair and Trevor's breakup was neither good nor bad.
Bad because, as I said before, now he had more pent up anger from the humiliation of being so publicly dumped. Therefore, Jujubee and I would most likely be subject to more harassment.
Good, because maybe Blair did like girls. Maybe there was still some little chance for us to be together.
But if we were going to be together, there was one issue; I still had no fucking idea how lesbian sex worked.
Cut to later that night, I'm in my room, sitting in front of my computer. I needed to distract myself from my thoughts of the breakup. While the scratchy dial-up tones emitted the machine, I psyched myself up. Even though I knew sex was normal to learn about at that age, it was still daunting.
With shaky hands, I searched 'lesbian sex'. And fuck was it a mistake. What I wanted was educational articles, guides, etc.
And what I got was porn.
I watched all but a few minutes, all the painfully bad acting scenes that took place before the main event. Upon hearing the first moan, I clicked out as fast as I could.
Looking behind me, Piggie was just playing with a stuffed animal on my bed. "You saw that, right?"
He looked at me with perked ears.
I still felt judged, so I opened my bedroom door and let him out.
I needed to be exact. 'How do lesbians have sex?'
And Brianna Caldwell was never the
same. My mind was opened that night.
This was no mistake. This was a surprise.
I couldn't look away from the computer screen, no matter how slow the Internet connection was.
All of this information was all too much but not enough at the same time. And it made me feel less nauseated than I felt after watching that stupid video in class.
And I built up the courage to go back to that porn site. And I watched every damn second. Then I watched another one. And another. And just one more 'cause why the fuck not?
My bedroom door opened. "Brianna, I'm ordering - -"
"Get out," I shouted, closing the site down like my life depended on it.
But she stood there for a few seconds, eyes wide and hand still on the door frame. "Honey, are you - -"
"Mom, oh my god. Can you just - -" I couldn't even form a proper sentence.
She gave an apologetic look and closed the door. But she remained on the other side. "I just wanted you to know that I'm ordering pizza for Grandpa and me. Do you want some?"
My forehead was in my hand now. "Yes."
"What kind?"
"Just…" I wanted to shout, "Pepperoni."
And with that, she left. But that wasn't the end of it.
When the food arrived, I waited a few minutes before going downstairs to grab a few slices. Grandpa was in the living room watching an old rerun of The A-Team. But she was there, in the kitchen, as if she was waiting for me.
"Honey, look. I know you're getting to that age where you're curious about certain things and - -"
"Mom, no. Please, don't do this." I whined.
"I know. I know. I just wanted to let you know that this is natural, and…" she continued to deliver the same talk we all got in class.
My eyes were wide, face red with humiliation.
-_-_-_-
2020
I picked up a slice of pepperoni pizza, instantly reminded of the traumatic event. OK, maybe that was too strong of a word to use. But of course, you are going to dread the thought of that time your parent talked to you about sex.
I walked into the living room, pizza slice in hand, trying not to dwell on the memory.
"So, Brianna. Any update on the love life?" Tamisha asked. I loved that bitch; being one of Mom's closest friends, she was present for most of my life. But she always had a tendency to ask questions I wasn't up for answering.
I took a bite from my pizza and answered with a full mouth, "dry."
"Girl, you're almost 40." She continued.
I was ready to challenge her because I was actually just 33 when Mom took her turn to speak.
"Yeah, get yourself a man and make me a Grandma already." She wasn't serious. She knew I hated these types of talks, but that didn't stop her from encouraging the others.
The funny thing about the time she caught me watching porn, she never clocked it was girl on girl. Of all the years I've been on this planet, I hadn't given her a clue that I was a lesbian. Would I ever tell her? I didn't see the point. From previous failed relationships and being too busy with my job, I wouldn't end up with someone anyway.
But of course, I'd make an exception for a certain someone.
Monét poured the first round of shots. I already knew I'd hate myself the next day. I wasn't drunk already. Just sort of buzzed.
But that changed within an hour. I was hammered. Mom, Monét and all her friends were singing all the old songs in the living room.
I was out in the kitchen, trying to drink 8 glasses of water. I only managed 3.
Piggie ran in and put his paws up on my knee.
"There he is. My baby. My fucking son." I slid down to the ground and let him sit in my lap. "How is your night going?"
Just great, Brianna! Anyway, how about that Blair girl, huh? Piggie's non-existent voice said.
"Oh yeah," my eyes narrowed.
I unlocked my phone and opened up Facebook. And I bravely searched up her name. I say bravely because it does take some balls to go and stalk your crushes social media accounts. All it took to fuck everything up was the slip of a finger, and before you know it, you've liked a post or sent a friend request.
"Let's do some digging, Piggie." I cuddled him.
Immediately, she was the top result, with Jujubee
being the only mutual friend.
"Yeah, girl. Infiltration." I commented as I clicked into her profile. And then her profile picture. "Holy shit."
She hadn't aged. She still looked as young and radiant as she did back in high school.
"What do you think, Piggie?" I showed him the screen.
He glanced at it before tucking his head under his arms.
The enthusiasm. I rolled my eyes.
I looked at her info. 'Single'. Promising.
Scrolling down to her timeline, I noticed she didn't post a lot. Fair enough. Facebook was becoming a dead site in recent years.
There were just your average Facebook posts, sharing giveaway posts, a post from an old lady saying, 'Blair, this is Granny. Could you go to Walmart and get me some applesauce? Love granny xx', a shared post from a guy called George Miller. And my finger stopped scrolling upon seeing Blair holding a baby.
"Oh God, we've encountered our first obstacle, Piggie," I whined.
I clicked into the comments. That George Miller guy commented, 'congrats, Blair!' She replied, 'thank you, but she's my cousin's lol'.
"Thank you, Jesus." I put my phone down for a moment to put my hand up to the good lord.
I scrolled some more, seeing many inspirational quotes, a link to Adore You by Harry Styles. And a picture of her. With that George Miller guy. With his arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her temple.
I could feel my heart sink the more I studied it. Yeah, I knew Blair and I were never meant to be anyway. But it was still upsetting.
Relax. They could be friends. Yeah, that's right. Friends hold each other and act all affectionate, right?? I cuddle with Jujubee sometimes. That doesn't mean anything. Right?
I needed evidence, just anything, to make it not true. I scrolled some more.
There was a video, she was sitting on her sofa, with a girl playing the guitar sitting on the other end.
"I've been running races on empty,
Pour it up 'cause my cup so empty.
Gotta make time for the real me.
I've been running, I've been running on empty."
And my nerves were settled again. I had only heard Blair sing a few times. She and her friends would pretend they were famous singers in early elementary years, and she'd always be the best. Then another time was in high school, at the winter talent show. I specifically remember it being A moment like this by Kelly Clarkson. It was unreal.
'Jujubee 💋💅🏽 is typing…'
I clicked into Snapchat before she even had a chance to type the whole message.
"Do you remember Jujubee?" I asked Piggie. Again, he was silent.
'I hope you're having fun, babe ❤ lv u'.
"Thanks," was all I could manage to type.
A shadow cast over me. I looked up to see Monét join me on the ground.
"Hey, girl." She greeted me.
"Hi, Aunt Monét." I smiled.
Piggie hopped off my lap and onto hers.
"Aunt Monét? Honey, you haven't called me that since middle school." She smiled.
I returned the smile, only mine probably looking goofy. "I'm just wasted."
"I noticed. No more shots for you anyway." She noted, taking a drink from her own bottle. "Anyway, how's the project?"
"We got fucking Ed Sheeran involved." I then cursed myself internally for bringing it up.
"I heard. Your Mom was telling me. Ugh, girl, why him? Why not someone like…" she paused to think, "like Beyonce. Or Lady Gaga."
"OK, man-hater." I quipped, reaching over to pet Piggie.
"Not true. Not all men are bad." Monét pointed out. "Speaking of which, when are you getting yourself one?"
I could have given her the usual 'I don't have time for men's talk. But the alcohol said no. "Monét, I like girls."
And I felt no shame in saying it.
A moment of silence fell between us before she asked, "for real?"
"Yeah." I nodded.
"Does anyone else know?"
"Yeah. Juju. And Piggie probably." I replied, leaving one more name out for the sole purpose I didn't want to get into that.
"And Mom?"
"Nope."
She nodded. "I guess this is one of these aunty-niece confidentiality things?"
"Uh-huh." I smiled. Bless Aunt Monét.
"Well, no matter who you live, we still love you." She laughed for a moment before taking another drink.
I knew
she was right. Maybe coming out to Mom wasn't such a bad idea.
"You know what, Brianna?" She paused, "Grandpa would be so proud of you, right?"
My smile slowly began to drop. Fuck, the touchy subject. "Oh, I...thanks."
I thought the change in my mood was hard to miss, but Monét clearly had. "You and I ain't ever talked about him since...you know."
"OK," I said quietly, feeling like my chest was a fist, beginning to clench tighter and tighter.
"And sometimes, it's just good to look back on - -"
"I gotta go." I quickly stood up, feeling the dark fog already come over me. I rushed from the room, my aunty calling my name and apologising. I avoided going into the living room, rushing up the stairs and racing for the bathroom.
As soon as the door was locked, I let myself crumble, my face hidden beneath shaking hands, a cry clogged in my throat just begging to belt out. Mom would definitely hear it. I wasn't going to ruin her day. Absolutely not.
#rpdr fanfiction#s10#as5#miz cracker#jujubee#blair st clair#blair x cracker#denali foxx#rosé#fluff#coming of age#hurt/comfort#lesbian au#high school au#angst#gimme love#grinder#tw grief#tw homophobia
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Remoras Full Chapter XXXII: June Bug
Naivety was such a hard thing to grasp, especially when it seemed like a great deal of the time, I was all aware of the world around me. People and their little quirks, their little things they preferred to keep hidden and the things on the surface which they played off like a mask, yet held more of a truth than they would have cared to admit.
Of course, one of the greatest examples of a person with such a quirk was the one who I loved and cherished – Vesuvius Bark (at her own request. Sometimes she could contradict herself, though not in a bad way. As much talk as she makes about wanting to be free spirited and breaking from traditions, she herself wanted most of all to settle down into a quiet life in the middle of nowhere and she also chose to take up the other’s last name, something which I never really understood and I even laughed when she said she wanted to do that, but hey, I appreciated the thought).
She fell into my lap, sobbing, after having an intense texting session with one Ms. Remora. We both sat on the floor and I knew I didn’t have to ask what was wrong, as it didn’t take a genius to recognize that things didn’t go over so well. While her head was stuffed between my legs and her muffled sobs became an ambient backdrop to our little house, I was compelled to stroke her hair. Maybe it was instinctual. Maybe I just really liked her hair. Maybe it was Maybelline (okay, bad reference aside, she did have some fuckin’ soft hair). Before she uttered her first words, she heaved out a pained sigh, then turned her head to the side and faced away from me.
“Why is it so hard for me to make friends? I don’t want to be an angry person, but then I go and say such cruel things,” she wept, her voice already quieted down, though there was a good chance that she could once again build up in intensity.
“Making friends is just hard in general,” I replied, “not to mention, now we’re no longer in the city, so it’s even harder.”
“I hated it there...so many people, sure, but it was like everyone had their own things to do and you weren’t a part of it,” she grumbled.
I poked her nose.
“Sure, a lot of people are like that, and I’m not one to talk seeing as I never really made friends in the city, but there were opportunities. Clubs and groups you could join, stuff like that. Now, however, we’re probably the only people around for miles.”
She turned silent, as if such an obvious fact were a revelation. Maybe it was a reminder she would have rather left forgotten. If that were the case, maybe a different reminder would be more to her liking.
“For what it’s worth, you’ve got Velvet and Coriander. They’re your friends, right?”
“Yeah…” She sounded listless and disinterested, though she couldn’t deny such a thing, could she?
OK. I knew where she was coming from: those two were a little rowdy. Well, mostly Coriander. Apparently she met them back when she visited an alternate timeline and met an alternate version of me (which, for the record, probably wasn’t as sexy as this me was). She probably never expected to see them again, because why would she? Not to mention, she really liked things being just us.
...But how could I refuse letting two friends of my beloved stay at our humble abode? Sure, our house wasn’t much. I built it myself (pride!) and it could be quite rickety. All misshapen, not too sturdy. Our wood floors weren’t hardwood, nor did they have that varnish, and in fact, despite how free we liked to live, we ran the constant risk of receiving splinters whenever we walked around. One of these days I’d get some varnish, or whatever it is that helped smooth wood.
But aside from those things, which trust me, there were more I could have listed, it was our home. Our quiet, sometimes loud home where we could do whatever and run through tall grass and fields of flowers right outside our doorstep. In our living room were a couple of chairs, a small sofa made of fine woven straw, and bookshelves. Before Velvet and Coriander stayed with us, there was just one room, and it was our bedroom. So of course, I had to make room (ha!) for another room. It wasn’t too bad, and they were patient.
Now we had a guest room which probably wouldn’t get much use, since we weren’t the type to expect guests. Sometimes I let the chickens in and they liked to sleep on the bed in that room. Oh yeah! We had chickens, a whole coop of ‘em! About...five chickens. That was almost half a dozen!
There was a small fan atop a stand, and as gross as it was, we just dealt with the summer heat for the most part. At nights we’d open the window a crack and let the gentle breeze in. We’d also walk around the house near-naked and fan each other with our hands. As I waited for her to speak up again, I was mesmerized by the fan, wondering why we had it on when it didn’t do much for us.
“I was just thinking...what if I took that opportunity from you? To join groups and make friends, to be surrounded by others instead of isolated out here,” when she spoke at last, her voice sounded so far away, lost, even though she was right on my lap, beside me.
Really? That? Oh bother…
I covered her mouth with my hand.
“Enough of that,” I scolded, even if my playful voice made it sound like I was open to hearing more. “It’s not like I was doing any of those things when we did live in the city! Besides, I chose to live out here. I could have refused if I wanted to, but I liked the idea. New opportunities? Peace and serenity? Hell yeah, let’s go.”
She grabbed my wrist and moved my hand away, but not before kissing my fingertips.
“It was my dream to live like this, but it didn’t have to be yours.”
Through one of the open windows, the sun’s rays leaked through and spread its warmth across my cheeks. In turn, I lifted Ves by the back, lifted her hair back, and kissed her forehead.
“You’re right,” I smiled and shook my head slow, “it wasn’t my dream. But unlike you and my brother, I’ve never been the type to have dreams. Rather, when I want something, or want to do something, it comes in a flash, and I resolve to do it right away. It’s more of an impulsive desire than a dream. So when you told me about it, no, it wasn’t a dream of mine, but I loved the idea, and I wanted to help see it through.”
Indeed, I didn’t lie. One day, maybe, I would decide that the pastoral life wasn’t for me. If that time came, maybe I would decide that I wanted to return to the city. Or more realistically, I would elect for something different altogether. Like live a nomadic life. Never settle down. Ah, it didn’t quite sound like me, but sometimes I wondered how drifters managed to get by, and whether or not I would like to live such a life as well.
She leaned up to me and pressed her lips against mine, and while doing so, I wiped a tear from her eye. After she released, she squinted her eyes as we both stared into each other’s. With her near-blinking stare, it was like she still had more tears to release, but wanted to suppress them.
“Sorry,” she allowed the word to float out through the air and into my ear, sounding much more seductive than she probably intended. My ears twitched and I jolted into a sudden shiver. Still, I’d like to believe that I kept my cool. I laughed in return.
“Don’t be,” I poked her nose, “no need to thank me, either. I’ll remind you over and over again if you need to, and even if it might frustrate me to do so, and you might be stubborn and hot-headed at times, I’ll still remind you. Yes, I love you, and I am also my own person. I don’t have to want everything you want, or agree with everything you say, especially when you say some pretty dumb shit –”
“Hey!” She interrupted, having taken offense to that. Not like she could really dispute it, though.
“– but trust me when I tell you that I chose to move here with you, and I’m enjoying it here. Sure, it’s hard, and it’s a work in progress, but of course it’s work, and at least it’s work that I enjoy doing.”
“I didn’t think it would be…” she rolled her eyes and looked away.
“Of course not!” I grinned and closed my eyes, ready to break into a sing-song rant, “you probably thought you’d be living on a bed of flowers and be eating magic mushrooms all day and putting flower crowns in your hair, going off to bathe in a pond, all the while forgetting that you don’t like bugs and don’t like to get dirty. That you’ve got pollen allergies, and you’re so used to taking showers that you could never imagine doing such a thing –”
That time it was her turn to cover my mouth.
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. Indoor plumbing has spoiled me,” she scoffed. “But I also didn’t realize that I’d break a sweat farming, or that getting plumbing set up would be such a pain, or that we’d have to worry about foxes or coyotes trying to sneak in, or that chickens needed attention. So much goes into building a home or keeping cool in the summer and warm in the winter. More than I ever imagined.”
I laughed again.
“Not just that, but bugs still sneak in all the time, anyway,” I pointed out.
“Eep!” She jolted up, then scowled. “Why’d you have to tell me something like that?”
Yeah, I guess I didn’t have to tell her that. It was pretty obvious, huh? Still, it wasn’t like I was trying to freak her out or anything. She then turned to a laugh.
“Ah, well,” she sat up and smiled a wide smile, which almost gave off a smug aura. At least she sounded more relaxed at last. “Bugs are just something I have to live with. They’re part of nature, after all, and I love nature, even when it appears cruel. Even when it frightens me. I just get a little jumpy sometimes.”
I grinned as well.
“I’m glad you seem to be feeling better!”
Wide-eyed, as if struck by the realization of her ease in spirits, she turned her head to the side and rested it on her shoulder.
“Sorry about that...it’s what it all comes back to: I got into a conversation with Remora and then it seemed like she was pushing me away, so I tried to help her, and I lashed out, and –”
“Yeah, I know,” she already told me everything that was going on as the texting battle was happening. I didn’t really need the recap. “To be honest, she kind of had a point with one thing: I don’t think you meant anything bad by it, but your whole basis for wanting to be friends with her was because of who she resembled. You even told me yourself how you saw it as a second chance, since you didn’t get to help Rhea.”
“But you gave her your number too!” Ves protested, as I knew she would. Being defensive was just one of her charms.
“I thought it could be fun, yeah, if she was down to fun. But it seemed more important to you. I can’t really fault you for feeling the way you did, but I can also understand why she wouldn’t appreciate that treatment.”
“You’re right,” she sighed. “I guess her death just affected me more than it should have. Never would I think I’d have such prolonged grief. Especially when you consider how brief I knew her for, and the fact that we were adversaries.”
I nodded.
“Still, whether or not you’d like to admit it, it doesn’t take long for you to form connections. You two did more than just try to kill each other, right? There were times when it was just talking, like what we’re doing now.”
“You’re right,” she repeated. Something which fed my ego on days when my ego was hungry. Really, I couldn’t help but beam upon hearing that. “It must be hard dealing with me, huh? Going back and forth. Lashing out at people, getting defensive. I wish I could be kind, like you.”
You know, there were some things that just pressed my buttons. It wasn’t her lashing out or being defensive that really got to me, but that was something I could do without. After a deep breath, as if I was about to scream my head off, I spoke, calm and composed, even if the buzzing of my heart would have suggested otherwise.
“Not really. I’ve dealt with you for years now. You aren’t much trouble at all. It’s just as you say: all defense mechanisms. Even when you’re down on yourself, it’s just because you’re afraid to accept that there are good sides to you.”
“How does that make any sense?” She scowled. I ruffled her hair, and she tried to stop me, but it was too much fun.
“And another thing,” I added, still messing up her hair, “you already are a kind person. We’re more alike than you realize sometimes.”
“We are?” She whined, unable to keep me from messing with her hair.
“Yeah. Of course. We’re both sensitive people.”
“You too?”
“Of course. It’s not like I’ve just got a few predetermined traits and that’s it. I’m not some fictional character.”
“Ha. Neither am I.”
“If I was, I’d probably want to be a dragon or something!” I declared, “But alas, I am baby.”
She turned to the offensive now, using her own hands to mess with my hair. Luckily for me, I was into that.
“OK. Yeah. That’s true. I’ve seen you cry before,” she teased.
“Hey! I’ve seen you cry too!” I protested, then pounced on her, knocking her back to the floor.
As I stared down at her, a sly smile crept on her face. I stuck out my tongue and blew raspberries, then I plopped down to rest on her chest.
“You know, it’s hard not to lash out or get defensive sometimes. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”
“Thank you,” she stroked my back as she leaned close to my ear and whisked the two words away before turning to nibble on my earlobes.
Of course things would escalate from there. Then there was probably a good chance we’d sleep all day. One great thing about the both of us was that we could both be lazy people and unashamed to say so.
Despite all the lovey-dovey antics and the way she could always come back down from the boiling point she’d reach, things weren’t always ‘couple goals’ or whatever someone might have called it. Trent once claimed that I took a liking toward Vesuvius right away, but that wasn’t quite true. When Trent first took her home, I didn’t know what to expect. My first impression was that he shouldn’t have let someone, let alone a stranger, live at his place rent-free, but then again…
“Hey, this is kinda last minute, but I just got evicted!” I announced in a panic. Just a couple years before the homeless stranger moved in, and there I was, ready to move in.
“What?! How? That doesn’t seem like a ‘last minute’ thing!” He complained, which he had every right to, but...circumstances and all.
“Okay, so first work fired me a few months ago because my boss kept getting onto me about getting distracted looking at power tools, only to get distracted looking at screws and nuts and bolts and all that good stuff. Anyway, I guess he said this wasn’t the first time I was caught doing that, and he’s had many talks with me about it and they all just went waaaaay over my head. Long story short, I spent a couple months without a job, but not to worry! I was able to pay my rent...three months ago. Anyway, long story short, I just got evicted.”
Sure, some could say something like ‘what a stereotype! A cool woman who worked at a hardware store? How cliché!’ But for the record...shiny metal objects.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could’ve helped you!”
“I mean, I thought I’d figure out something, but oops, the time just went by.”
“That’s more than an ‘oopsie’!” He balked.
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I’m just glad I managed to hold this job while you were a med student. Hell, I didn’t think I’d still be working there after you became a doctor, and to think I never rose in the ranks one bit. Retail’s a joke, am I right?” I nudged his arm. He didn’t seem so amused.
“But yeah, if it’s not too much trouble, can I crash at your place? I get that it’s out of the blue and all, and if you say no, that’s fine, I don’t mind. Your poor little sis can just go live on the streets. But I’d rather not go back to living with mom, either way.”
“I wouldn’t want that for you either,” he agreed. “Come on, come on,” he motioned me in, although he did groan and roll his eyes.
“Good news is I got 24 hours to get my stuff, so I should be all moved in in no time!” I did my best to stay positive. I already knew this was a heavy burden on him.
“Do you...do you need any help?” He blinked and turned to the side while asking all awkward-like.
“Nah. You’re already helping plenty by letting me live with you! Just leave it to me!” I pounded my fist against my chest and grinned to further assure him that assistance would be unnecessary.
So just after coming in, I ran back out. It took a few trips, but luckily I didn’t have anything pesky like furniture or appliances.
“How did you sleep?” He’d ask me.
“Two words, bro: Air. Mattress.”
Indeed, those things were a life saver. Call me self-sacrificing, but I really didn’t have much money considering most of my paychecks went toward getting Trent through med school. What could I say? I could afford a few years of squalor, but could he afford an endless amount of student debt? I didn’t think so.
“Well, first chance I get, I should get you an actual bed,” he stated, and as hefty as a statement as that was, there were no hints that he was joking.
So for a little while, I just slept on the couch. While by the time Ves had moved in, I had a bed in my own room, I still slept on the couch out in the living room from time to time. It was nice; I’d watch cheesy horror movies like Gremlins, Critters, and The Brave Little Toaster. Really, I felt like royalty and all I needed was to make a little crown out of scrap metal.
Funny how that was even a thought, huh? Funnier still were the thoughts that were really memories that I hoped to have forgotten. Just a couple days after I had moved in, Trent brought up a topic that was far and away from my mind. He had just gotten home and set a bag of groceries at the table. For my part, I turned and leaned against the edge of the couch.
“Got any bananas for me? Oranges? Apples, even? Dare I say, cupcakes?”
“Yeah,” he answered, his back was turned, not even bothering to turn around, and threw a banana my way from over his shoulder. Maybe he thought that he could hit me with it, but my reflexes were too good. I caught it, firm in my grasp, one handed. Take that.
“Oh, while at work today I randomly remembered something,” he mentioned. Back still turned.
“Oh?” I didn’t know what to expect. It could have been anything, but based on how his mind worked, I figured it would just be something mundane.
“Yeah. I think it’s ‘cause you just moved in, but it got me thinking about how when I first moved in a couple years ago and you helped me move.”
“Heh. All because I got better muscles than you,” I sneered.
“...That aside, remember how there was that time travel device that looked like a Nintendo 64?” He asked.
I gulped. To be honest, it was a faint memory, and there was a tinge of jealousy somewhere mixed in, but all in all, it was a cloudy thing.
“You’re the one who thought it looked like an N64! It was probably just some old record player,” I dismissed.
“Okay, but regardless of what it we think it resembled, point is, it was legit,” he turned around now, one hand on his hip, the other hand holding an apple.
“I don’t know about that…I never even got to test it out. It was all you. For all I know, you could’ve just made a break for the convenience store while I was cooped up in this apartment.”
“Sorry about that,” he said all casual, like it was a quick run and done apology. “But you can’t deny all of it. I mean, we were both there when that teenager with a wool overcoat barged in and tried to take the device back, and then this apparent message from her father showed up and it was all weird and freaky. I really don’t remember what was said, but the imagery is still there.”
I nodded.
“That does sound weird. Are you sure we both didn’t just dream it all up? I mean, I barely remember any of that shit, and that’s probably for the best. It’s not like it really changed our lives in any way. Even if it was real, it was a random occurrence that I’ve moved on from.”
Maybe that was too harsh. Then again, was it even harsh at all? It was what it was, wasn’t it? There wasn’t really much to something that I didn’t even have a part in. He shrugged, and I knew he didn’t find it to be a big deal, just a topic he found interesting. Like a song he hadn’t heard for a long time, and out of nowhere, the lyrics played out in his head. Or maybe there was some other analogy he would’ve used, probably something D&D related.
“Yeah, it’s not important or anything, it’s just something I remembered. Like, at the end of that message, she was all crying and hugged you and I imagine that was awkward for you.”
It sure was. Damn it, why’d you have to bring that up now?
“Ha. As if a girl would ever hug me in real life. We all know I’m the one who does the hugging,” I closed my eyes and pointed my thumb against my chest, with a smug grin glued to that slab of skin we called a ‘face’.
“Anyway, I just thought it was neat. Not that there’s really any take away from it. Sorry if it made you all defensive,” he shrugged.
“What?” I gasped. “Me? Defensive? As if! I don’t even believe in time travel! Furthermore, it doesn’t matter how cute a girl is, I do not want to be hugged by no teenager! Only people my age, peas and thank you.”
Again, he shrugged, as he was prone to do.
“Well, like we said, it doesn’t really affect anything It’s not like we’re going to see that person again, and I doubt any other weird people are ever gonna enter this apartment.”
He sounded so sure of himself.
So when she finally showed up at the apartment, it was as if he had spoken a curse into existence. Even if I may not have remembered what he said at the time, there was an aura about the whole thing, like, “I just knew this would happen.”
Most of the time, Trent would be out, I’d be in my room, or in the workshop (it was originally a walk-in closet in the hallway, but after some tweaks here and there, it became a full-fledged tinkering room) and whichever place I’d happen to be in, a soft near-silence would follow. Buzzes from the refrigerator carried through the air, little drafts here and there. Clangs from the pounding of a hammer upon a steel table. Hums of a ceiling light. Those sounds.
If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought I was alone. But just the other night, Trent brought home a woman who was out on the streets and let her stay in the empty room (first room down the hall. How things went were kinda like...you walk in, walk down the hall, first room to the right, empty room. Then next door is to the left, and it’s workshop formerly known as closet. Last two rooms furthest down the hall were Trent and I’s. Mine on the right, his on the left). My brother had a big heart, no doubt about that, but something like that was a little unprecedented.
The day after he brought her home, I wasn’t even sure if she was still there. I spent the whole whole day cooped up in that apartment, flipping through channels, making myself PB&Js and generally having a good time. I’d put on some disco music and dance out of sheer boredom. Still, not once did I see that door open. Not once did I see that mysterious homeless lady, not even at a passing glance.
Same thing with the day after alongside the little ambiance. No hints nor signs of another soul besides mine.
It was still early in the day, a little before noon. Light shone through the gaps between the blinds in the windows. Restless, curious even, I approached the door to that empty room.
But it might not be empty. That stranger might be there.
My heart was as worked up as my mind was and as my hand reached for the door handle, I had to stop myself.
“It would be rude to barge in,” I muttered. I drew a hefty breath. We all knew I wouldn’t be able to stop myself, but all the same, I was hesitant. “I know if someone barged into my room, I wouldn’t like it much…”
So I raised my arm just a cut above the handle and balled my hand into a fist, ready to knock.
...Yet I didn’t. There was a worry in me that I’d knock too loud, so I released my grip and let out another belabored breath.
As long as I’m quiet, it shouldn’t be a problem, right? And if no one’s there, all the better. If someone’s there, all I gotta say is, “sorry I didn’t know there was someone in here.” Yeah. Foolproof.
“Here goes…” Confidence was not on my side, yet there I was, my palm on the handle, and I turned, gave a little pull, and let the door do the rest of the work as it coaxed itself open, propelled by the gentle momentum. I crept through the gap, then stood, stunned.
She lay there, spread across the floor. An orange striped blanket covered her, and underneath I spied a purple rain jacket. I crouched down next to her, still filled with wonder, still hoping to keep my movements quiet. As I leaned in, I felt a jolt rush through me, shocked at how close I was to her face.
You know, she’s actually quite beautiful now that I’ve got a good look at her: Her hair isn’t so much golden blonde as it is such a light shade, almost white. Mystical. Her skin looks soft, radiant even. However old she is, she’s definitely got that ‘babyface’ thing going on. She looks peaceful with her eyelids shut and little warm breezy breaths wafting out from her open mouth. She must be deep in sleep right now. I was right to be quiet. Sure, she smells kinda mildewy, but she was out in the rain after all.
My eyes traced down her back and I couldn’t help but notice how the blanket didn’t cover all of her. Her legs were folded, but even so, it was apparent just how tall she was.
“Now’s not the time to be horny, Juniper,” I scolded myself in a whisper. “I only came in to check if she was actually in here. Now that I know, I can leave.”
I began to get up, but was stopped when I noticed her begin to stir from her sleep. She stretched out and her arms ended up on my lap, and she must have mistaken it for a pillow, as she crawled up my lap until her torso was leaned up against mine, and I found myself frozen in nervousness.
Uh...what do I do now?
Despite her eyes not yet open, she continued her way up and placed a hand on my cheek. I could have stopped her, I could have moved her hand away, but for whatever reason, I had no desire to.
“My love…” She whispered in a faint, breathy voice, then she fell back down and went right back to sleep. Out of all of the things to happen next, that wasn’t something I expected.
I blinked.
“Excuse me? Do you just say that to the first person you see?” I could no longer control the volume of my voice, I was too dumbfounded for that. Yet despite my reaction, she didn’t wake back up.
I managed to pull her off of me without waking her (spoilers: she was indeed a heavy sleeper), then left the room. As far as first impressions went, that was...something. Not something I could really put words to, but I’d be sure to tell Trent about it.
Just a day later, Trent and I sat at the kitchen table and I couldn’t help but bring up our guest.
“I finally had an encounter with her,” I opened up the conversation.
“Who?” He wondered, an earnest clueless tone.
“The one you brought home a few nights ago, who else?” I scoffed.
“Oh, right. She’s still here?”
I stared at him.
“How are you this careless?”
“Hey, I’ve been busy with work, I’ve not had time to check in. It’s not like she has to stay here or anything, she’s free to leave at any time.”
“Maybe she should leave,” I let slip.
“Why’s that?” He seemed surprised.
“We don’t know anything about her, Trent. We don’t know what she’s like or whether it’s safe to keep her in the house,” I argued.
“She told me she was running from something,” he mentioned, and although concerning, that only solidified my point.
“Then what she needs is a women’s shelter, not some bumbling doctor and his lazy sister,” and upon realizing how I described him, I added, “no offense, by the way.”
“None taken. Look, I’m the one who pays for this apartment, and besides, I let you live here when you didn’t have a home.”
That...he had a point. But boy howdy, I was stubborn.
“Yeah, but I’m your sister. You know me. You know, yesterday when I checked in on her, you know what she did?”
“What?”
“She woke up and climbed up to me and called me her love. Like, what the fuck? Not to say I wasn’t into it, but I also wasn’t expecting it.”
“Well then, what’s the problem?” He inquired, then sipped his cup of coffee. I was just about to swipe that mug out of his hand.
“What’s the – oh, never mind. She can stay, obviously, and I’m not trying to make a big stink about her, but I just want you to be realistic and not overburden yourself. For that matter, has she been eating? Does she have food? Because if she’s not eating here, and just locking herself up, then she really is better off in a shelter than here.”
He shrugged. Classic.
“I’m guessing she feeds at night,” he suggested.
I’m sure the argument would have went on for at least another hour, but before I could get another word in, we both turned and saw the door to her room creak open. Although at first, we didn’t quite spot her, and her movements were languid and wraith-like, nary a sound made, we both caught her attention as she drew near the front door.
“Oh, uh, sorry if you heard us talk about you!” I called over, flustered. Out of all the things, I didn’t expect such a sudden appearance. She glanced at me, but then turned her attention toward Trent instead. So rude.
“Thank you for letting me stay, but I’ll be taking my leave now,” she told him.
“Oh? So soon?” He seemed surprised. I mean, it was what? Three days? That wasn’t super soon or anything. She looked down on the floor.
“It just dawned on me...who you two are...it’s not a good idea for me to be here any longer,” she muttered.
The hell does she mean by that? I wondered.
“Well, if that’s how you feel, I won’t stop you,” he brushed aside. He could be like that if he wanted, but something didn’t sit right with me.
“So that’s just it, huh? You took advantage of my brother’s kindness and now you’re going to bail?” I scowled and sharpened my voice. That time, I got her attention.
“Excuse me? He invited me here. If you have a problem, take it up with him,” she shot back, also wearing a scowl on her pretty face.
“I already did. He was willing to help you and instead you hid out and starved yourself.”
Her brow creased further and so did her lips. I thought I could spy little fangs protruding and clenched down against her lips.
“I can take care of myself,” she growled. “Who are you to tell me how I should and shouldn’t be?”
“I’m the one you called your lover. Or did you forget that little mishap?”
That time, her fists clenched as well.
“For your information,” she seethed. “I was dreaming and must have mistaken you for someone else in my sleep. I assure you, I would never want you as a lover.”
“Wanna bet?” I flared up as well. Really, out of all the things to argue about, at that point it seemed like I was arguing just to argue.
“This is ridiculous…” she turned her head away, and reached for the front door. “I don’t need any of your help. I’m better off alone, anyway.”
Once she set her hand on the door handle, however, she hunched down and clasped her head with her other hand. She started to heave and moan as if she were about to throw up. That time, both Trent and I were concerned. He was the first to get up and rush to her side. Something in me made me jealous, as if I were just a little quicker, I would have been the one at her side.
“Are you okay?” He held onto her.
“I’m fine,” she rasped, even if the aching of her voice proved otherwise. “I’m just a little dizzy and nauseous and have a bit of a headache. I’ll be fine.”
Defiant until the end, I noted.
“Do you need me to take you to the hospital?” He asked.
“No! I don’t need a hospital!” She lashed. “I’m – urp,” she was probably going to say that she was fine again, but had to stop herself. She both looked and sounded like she was struggling not to throw up, and at that point, she let go of the handle and held onto the base of the door itself.
For my part, I had gotten up, but I was at a loss for words. I stood there and watched, horrified and worried for this stranger’s sake.
“My...my brother’s a doctor…” I spoke up, much less confident than before. “If you don’t want to go to a hospital, he can treat you here.”
“I can?” He looked at me. Sure, it was a spur of the moment comment, and he didn’t have any medical equipment at home, but I bet he could manage.
“I’m…” she glared at me. “I’m fine. I’m just not good with the daylight and I haven’t eaten for several days.”
“Stop!” I yelled. “Stop saying you’re fine. You’re clearly not and you shouldn’t be starving yourself. We can help you here, but you need to accept our help.”
Her gaze was fixed on me, and she stared. But rather than a scowl, she looked dejected and faint. Ready to pass out at any moment.
“Fine…” She relented at last.
I ran into the kitchen and poured a glass of water from the tap. When I rushed over to her, I held the water up to her face.
“Drink. Please.”
She did so, but then spit out the water. It didn’t look to be on purpose, but I still would have preferred if it didn’t happen.
After a moment, she was able to swallow more, and I took the water back. She stood back up.
“I’ll stay a while longer. I guess.”
“Good. But while you’re here, you should eat with us,” I tried to lay out at least one ground rule.
She looked away, held her sleeve up to her mouth, and I thought I could spot a blush upon her face.
“I’ll do it for you,” she groaned.
It would be best if she did it for herself. For all her talk of handling things on her own, it concerned me that she hadn’t been taking care of herself. Maybe she wasn’t able to, but it seeemed that rather than being unable, she just wasn’t interested in doing so. Still, it was a start.
So yeah. It wasn’t the best start and I wasn’t really sure how things developed to the point that we were bonafide wives who looked out for each other. There must have been a journey that led up to it, but I still couldn’t pinpoint when it was that we became genuine lovers. It was probably about a couple years before we got together, so there was some kind of build up at least.
No matter the case, I was glad with how things turned out. We had each other and I had a workshop in my shed, she had her greenhouse with its poisonous plants. We were both in good health and even if her mental state wasn’t always the best, I loved her range of emotions and we were strong enough to recover from whatever it was she dealt with.
Life had a great deal of difficulties, even without the burden of money and city life. That said, both of us were in agreement how happy we were for things to just be the two of us in our place of solace. That said, we welcomed her friends Velvet and Coriander, and like Trent before me, I was sure I’d welcome anyone who wished to stay with us.
“Oh! By the way!” I was reminded of a potential visitor we may have. I was sitting in the armchair, Ves had just gotten back inside after tending to her greenhouse. She wore sunglasses, a face mask, gardening gloves, and a pair of pliers (that’s what they were, right?)
“Hm?” She looked my way and her voice was muffled under he mask.
“Demetria’s mom called the other day. Remember Demetria?”
She shook her head.
“At the wedding, she was the pipsqueak? Your cousin-in-law? Anyway, her mom’s worried about her. Apparently she’s been dealing with a lot. Demetria, not the mom. She sent her mom a text saying that she plans to come over here and stay for a while, so her mom was asking if Demetria was here.”
“Are you going to let her stay here if she comes?” She asked.
“I don’t see why not? She’s family, even if I don’t really know her all that well. Besides, you stayed with Trent and I for years before we moved out.”
“True. I was just really enjoying it just being the two of us out here.”
“Aw, me too, hun. But we let Velvet and Coriander stay.”
“I was reluctant about that too,” she pointed out.
Maybe it was bad to say so, but I kind of found her possessiveness to be cute. Besides, I knew she had a good heart and wouldn’t mind someone else being here, even if she wasn’t too keen on the idea.
“I know how you feel, I can read you pretty well. But you don’t have to worry, we don’t have to give up our free life or anything like that. We’ve got our own room, she’ll have hers, and I’m sure she won’t mind how we are, anyway.”
“You may be right. Sorry, I’m just quick to not like something. I’m sure I’ll be fine with her here, and maybe I could get to know her better, too. I’ll do my best to treat her with kindness,” she resolved, then nodded.
“I know you will,” I agreed.
Between the two of us, she may have seemed like the less kind one, but as I said, we were more similar than she realized.
Even if I couldn’t pinpoint where our love for each other blossomed, I could at least recall when I resolved to be there for her.
See, while we began to eat meals together, and she bathed and got new changes of clothes (courtesy of Trent), she still seemed kinda secretive. Like there were just some things she felt she had to keep hidden. However, on my end, I was fixated on those words when she was first about to leave.
“Did you happen to meet us before you moved in?” I’d bring up at times, or ask, “have you known about us from somewhere?”
But each time, I’d get dismissed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sorry,” or, “that’s a strange question to ask.”
But I could tell she was being coy about it. However, her attempts at hiding the truth wouldn’t keep me from wanting to know.
One evening, I entered her room. I gave two light taps beforehand, and in response, she called, “come in.”
As soon as I did so, I saw her try to hide something away from me.
“Hey, what’cha got there?” I asked.
“Just some random junk I found when I was homeless,” she rushed to say and scrambled to find a place to hide it.
“I like junk,” I let her know. “I like making things in my workshop. I’m sure I could put it to good use.”
“No!” She hissed.
I backed away, disappointed.
“Is it that bad?” I pouted.
“Yes. Sorry.”
“Why?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” she huffed.
“Try me,” I crossed my arms.
She sighed, then showed me. My eyes widened as I recognized its cubic shape and little buttons. Despite its primitive look, she had pulled parts of it apart and chips and wires hung out. It looked less like she broke it, however, and more like she was trying to make improvements to it.
“Is that…?” Flashbacks to when my brother first moved in started to play out and my head spun trying to piece together the implications.
“It’s mine. I’ve modified it, but I’m working on making it better. It’s hard work. I’m not good with technology, but I’ve studied its contents here and there and have already figured out some things.”
“But...how?”
“How what?”
“How do you have that? I know I’ve seen it before and –” She stopped me before I could finish.
“Like I said, it’s mine. We met before, years ago, when I was younger. I didn’t think I’d ever run into you two again, I didn’t even want to, and when your brother took me in, the incident was far from my mind.”
“Incident?”
“After I took my device back. No, my father’s device, I returned home, but things were strange. I couldn’t stay. Anywhere. There were dangerous people after me, people who wanted to use me, and ever since, I’ve been on the run. It’s only been by coincidence that I’ve come to this time period and met you two. I swear, I never wanted to put either of you in danger.”
“What are you talking about?” The more she spoke, the more outlandish things seemed to be.
“You already know.”
“That’s not possible. It wasn’t that long ago, and she was just a teenager. You’re the same age as me.”
“Exactly,” she stared, her face dead serious. “For you, it may have only been a few years or so, for me, I lost more years than that. I’ve had to travel through time, fend off people you never wanted to meet, and now I am the person you see today.”
“That’s ridiculous. Time travel isn’t real. Did Trent put you up to this?”
“I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” she shook her head, “even though your own brother traveled through time, you refuse.”
“I don’t even know if he did. I never even got to try that device before you, er, she took it away! So what proof do I have?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t prove it, but I’m not lying.”
“Prove it,” I was adamant. It really wasn’t fair on her, but I just felt like I was pulled in on some practical joke, even if I knew it had to be true. “Take me somewhere. Anywhere through time. If you can do that, I’ll believe you.”
“Don’t believe me if you don’t want to, but I’m not going to do that. It’s too dangerous.”
“I bet I can handle it. I’m tougher than I look,” I called her bluff.
Despite wanting to protest further, she gave in, a mournful expression having taken hold.
“Very well. We’ll go. Give me a few days. May I use your workshop?”
“Of course. You don’t even have to ask.”
“Good. When we go, make sure to stay close to me,” she instructed.
After a few days passed, she came up to me while I was on the couch watching Trent play one of his games on TV. I think it was something called ‘Deus Ex’ or whatever.
“It’s done,” she informed me.
I sprung up from the couch.
“Later Trent. I’ll be back, uh...sometime,” I told him, then hopped off to follow her into her room. From behind, I could hear him say something like, “not like it’s any of my business what you two do in that bedroom.”
Of course, I ignored it.
Once behind closed doors, she told me to pick a time period.
“I don’t know...hm...maybe the 1930s? I’ve always wanted to see the great depression. I’m sure it was neat!”
She raised a brow.
“Neat? Oh, never mind. Sure,” she disregarded, then entered in 1932 and today’s date into the device, then hit enter as we held on tight. Before, I knew it was supposed to only be one person per use, but through her modifications, we were both able to go.
It was instantaneous. A flash. One moment, in that bedroom, the next, in an empty deserted street, houses left abandoned.
I looked around, the sky was some darkened indigo color with a gray hue washed over it. Everything about where we were at looked gloomy. Next to the rows of buildings was an open field of long grass.
“Well...this certainly looks like some kinda depression,” I remarked.
She wasn’t so amused, however, scanning the area like a hawk.
“Something isn’t right,” she mentioned.
“What isn’t?” I tried to ask, but she ignored it.
“Let’s move on. We shouldn’t linger too long. If anything happens, hide.”
“What would we hide from?” I once again tried to ask.
She didn’t answer. We continued to walk forward and a newspaper flew by on the ground. I snatched it up and noticed its date. The year on it was 1931 and the headline was about a food shortage.
“I can’t believe it…” I muttered.
Still, believe it, I must. There was no longer any denying where I was, even if I wanted to. However, what lingered on my mind was why we hadn’t encountered any signs of life. Not even someone desperate or starving, but just us two. Maybe it had to do with the time period, but I would’ve figured there would be at least one person we passed by.
Further down the street, we spotted a few old looking roofless cars. Then, a static-y sound erupted.
“Crap,” Ves hissed, then turned to me. “Juniper. Hide.”
Without even knowing why, I did so, feeling an inexplicable pounding against my chest, a foreboding sense burned through. I ducked down, crawled underneath one of the cars. My breaths grew heavy and I was worried about being given away, even though I didn’t know why. I could just sense that I shouldn’t be found.
Up ahead were the clacks of footsteps and I looked ahead, despite my narrow vision, to see a group of a few people in black slacks and black dress shoes.
“Well, well, Etna. We didn’t expect you to show yourself,” one of them spoke, a venomous delight to their voice.
Etna?
“Worry not. I won’t be here long,” Ves’ voice turned into a cold monotone.
“Of course not. Because we’ll be taking you, and your guest away.”
Fear washed over me, a jolt which would soon give way to panic.
“Fuck,” Ves hissed. She swerved down between the car I was hiding in and another and gunfire erupted. I saw her sneak to the other side of the car as cover.
“Juniper,” she turned to me and slid the device over. “Hold on to it. I’ll take care of them.”
“But they know I’m here too!”
“They don’t know what you look like, they just know I didn’t come alone. If things take a turn for the worst, I want you to use the device and head back home.”
“No. I’m not leaving without you.”
“It’s me that they want,” she scowled. “I’m telling you this to keep you safe. They’d want the device if they could get it, but I’m their top priority.”
So that’s it? You’re just going to let them capture you? I don’t see how you can get out of this mess, thoughts flooded me.
Despite my fears, she wasn’t as defenseless as I believed. It was like she was prepared for such an encounter, as she leapt over the car she had been behind and shoved herself into one of the strangers. As one tried to grab her, she grabbed the gun of the one she knocked down instead and shot them. There were two more, one which got shot in the chest and the last one, she struck beside their forehead with the gun she had in hand. Even the gun looked strange, like some kind of liquid was sloshing around inside, like lava. That last figure was knocked out and fell to the ground. That first person to get knocked to the ground was still conscious and tried to grab her by the ankle, but she shot at their face.
Once that was over, she dropped the weapon and huffed heavy breaths.
“You can come out now,” she informed. “But we should hurry back. They’re likely to send more.”
“You killed them,” my mouth was dry. I was at a loss for words.
“Not all of them. One is knocked unconscious. I would have knocked them all unconscious had I better reflexes.”
“Still…”
“I get it. Do you hate me now? Are you afraid of me?” Her voice shook, as well as the rest of her. She looked ready to break into tears.
“No, that’s not it. I’m just surprised. I didn’t think that’s what you had to deal with,” I reassured her. Yes, I was afraid, shocked, even. But if things were really so bad that she had to resort to such things, I couldn’t blame her. I just wanted to comfort her and protect her, so she wouldn’t have to, instead.
When we returned to the apartment, she put the device away.
“I don’t to have to use this again until I know it will be safe to do so,” she struggled to form the words, still shaken, herself. Possibly by her own actions.
“I had no idea,” I was stunned and about ready to break down, myself.
“Now do you believe me?” She asked.
“Yes. I believe you.”
Although the danger of the organization that pursued her is long behind her, even to this day, it affected her. That much I was aware of. We lived in peace, but to her, she wanted to hold tight to it and anything she associated with peace. It was like at any moment it would crumble in her hands and she’d have to run and hide once again.
Despite such difficulties, her insecurities, her history, our love remained strong. I wanted, no, needed her to know that it wouldn’t go away and she wasn’t this awful person she at times saw herself to be. I just hoped I could continue to get through to her.
As we ran through the fields with our hoes and tilled the soil beneath us, I turned to her and smiled.
“Whew. Hard work, huh?” I wiped my sweat-drenched forehead. “At least we’ll get some good veggies from it.”
“Yeah. It may be hard, but when it’s ripe, it makes it all the more worth it,” she smiled. It was still warm, radiant, even with all the sadness which latched onto her.
“I know it’s hard to find happiness sometimes, maybe even harder now that you’ve found a victory you never thought you’d achieve,” I told her. “But I know it’s possible. I believe so.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t need to be happy all the time. All I need is to be home, and as long as I’m with you, I’m home.”
My heart swelled. It was sappy, I knew, but I felt like bursting into tears all the same.
“Say, if we wanted, we can leave this behind. We can return to the city. Or better, we could hitchhike and travel the world. Maybe find an abandoned castle to live in. We don’t have to stay anywhere,” she laughed. “Oh, what am I saying? I wouldn’t mind wherever we are, but I know I would be too afraid to leave.”
I laughed too.
“We don’t need to go anywhere, and we don’t need to stay in the same place. Whatever we do, we can have fun, and we’ll be sure to love each other.”
You’re safe, I wanted to tell her. She knew that already, though. She must have.
#remoras full#wives#scifi#drama#writing#stories#flashbacks#this was supposed to only take one week to write#took two instead
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I can’t find my original response but here goes nothing. This is going to be long.
Quite a while back, someone sent me an anon ask about what I thought of neopronouns and my answer to that was… embarrassing to say the least. It was something along the lines of “they/them is fine but I like that xe and ze and whatever is weird :/“
Now, I doubt more than one person actually saw that (just like I really don’t think that anyone will even see this post) but it’s been bothering me for a long time and I’ve just gotta say, I’m sorry, that was wrong and all pronouns anyone actually feels comfortable with are absolutely valid and I will do my best to use them correctly! I was young(er), dumb(er) and ignorant at the time and my response came from a place of just not understanding what being non-binary or GNC or anything really entailed. Most of the knowledge I had on being trans came from people I no longer support or agree with, such as Kalvin Garrah or Blaire White (who had political stances I could never befriend) but I thought that since they were trans, she they what they were talking about, right? Truth is, they really only speak from their own experiences and are convinced that their experience is THE Trans Experience™ and anyone who goes through anything different is Not Actually Trans (“transtrenders”) etc. They never listed any sources for their claims that non-binary genders aren’t real, or anything for that matter and especially Blaire White’s track record of being an honest person is not exactly good.
Same goes for the gender dysphoria debate. I’m no longer a transmed but I do think you need dysphoria to be trans. Hear me out- a YouTuber named graysonsprojects put it really well in one of her videos, namely that you do need dysphoria to be trans, but everyone experiences gender dysphoria differently. Just because someone else experiences something you don’t or vice-versa doesn’t mean one of you is not really trans. (I’ve heard the term “gender incongruence” as well but that really just seems to describe that… someone is trans? Like, it’s not an indicator, it’s just a way of saying that someone is trans?? Their gender is not congruent with the one they were assigned at birth and I don’t think you can really use “being trans” as a criteria to determine if someone is trans.)
I’m neither a doctor or a psychologist, nor do I have any qualifications, but since there isn’t really a clear scientific consensus on this whole thing, I’m just going to state my opinion and elaborate a little. You do need gender dysphoria to be trans. Otherwise, why would you even be trans? If there wasn’t at least some kind of discomfort or just knowing that your gender is not the same as your biological sex, why would you not feel content living as cis? After all, your gender is not a choice. Nobody can just choose to be trans, and I doubt that anyone actually has. So yes, you do need gender dysphoria to be transgender, since the dysphoria is exactly what defines being trans. However, people experience gender dysphoria very differently from one another. The term “gender dysphoria” implies that you must be unhappy and disgusted with yourself or something along those lines, so the statement of “you need dysphoria to be trans” can seem a little misleading. For some, it can really be that bad and uncomfortable, while for others it might simply be knowing that they’re not cis.
No trans experience is any more or less valid than the other and it is not up to anyone to police someone’s identity as long as they’re not harming anyone. Using someone’s correct pronouns is basic human decency. Everyone is deserving of respect concerning their gender identity and pronouns and you should always try your best to respect them, even if you don’t fully understand them.
It was a case of not understanding for me, and I’m sorry for that and I’m still quite ashamed, even though I don’t have any sort of platform whatsoever and was mostly keeping these opinions to myself and at the end of the day, they were harmful to myself more than anything. I have been struggling with my own identity for longer than I can remember and finding someone like Kalvin Garrah, who pretty much kept feeding into my internalized nb- and transphobia, pushing me away from something that could have helped me understand myself better and keeping me locked in the little cishet box I, along with everyone else, gets put into by society that I was too scared and ignorant to leave. People like him reinforced the negative opinions I had already had about enby people in particular and I didn’t do any research of my own out of the subconscious fear that I’d perhaps discover that I was not cis. Denying the existence of non-binary people helped me suppress that exact part of myself.
To this day, I’m still not really sure if I’m really experiencing gender dysphoria or just symptoms of my self-hatred, unrealistic body standards, mental illness and a sprinkle of teenage angst and rapid changes of said body due to puberty. A part of me is kind of hoping it really is just my hormones going wild in this frankly quite wild time of my life and I’m only seeing the parallels to gender dysphoria because I keep thinking about it, hoping it’ll fade away as time progresses. Maybe I am just a little GNC but still mostly cis. Maybe I’ll do a Gerard Way and not be a big fan of labels but very much imply that I am not exactly cishet. Maybe it’s Maybelline. Who knows. I guess only time will tell.
But really, that’s about it. If anyone ever stumbles across this somehow, especially the anon who sent me that ask- wow! I hope I got my point across and again, I am sorry for being an idiot at the time (not that I’ve gotten any smarter, just a little more educated.) Special thanks to anyone who actually read all or really any of this, if there even is anyone. I just felt like I had to put this all out there, hope it was at least a little interesting. Thank you!
#LGBT#lgbtqia#lgbtq+#trans#GNC#enby#gerard way#bc why not I mentioned him once in this post#kalvin garrah#blaire white#gender discussion#way too long#lgbt pride#pride#pride month
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There’s a glitch in the system.
You’re never a victim for speaking your story. You are a survivor setting the world on fire with your truth. You really never know who needs to hear this, embrace your light and raging courage. I ponder on the question often of “When will I ever forget?”... probably not until The day I hit 72 years old, running about in my Alzheimer’s suit. That will be the day I finally feel like everyday is a new day. Every face is a new face... it’ll be like an old people’s home party with pudding and pretzels. Someone sneak in the good juice and turn this elevator jazz music UPPP PLEASE!! I hope I at least remember to do fake palm readings on the other folks I don’t like; *gasps* “KATLYNN! It says here on your hand you will only live for 3 more days if you don’t fix that mouth, oops karma I meant... wait a silly second, Judy was it?” It’ll be a hooot!
Unfortunately, it is not so much of a hoot when your IPhone update came with glitches, or when the power goes out due to a minor inconvenience In the middle of the juiciest dateline episode featuring; “mommy doomsday.” -speaking of: Lori Vallow is sick in the soul to even hurt her babies like that or allow someone else to like Chad Daybell. They both should get their maximum penalty! They should not be sneaking through the cracks for any lesser charge than what is owed. These are the system glitches that serve no better purpose than allowing these horrible people to get away with murdering sweet Tylee Ryan and innocent J.J. Vallow.
I was raised Mormon and I am a proud NOT-member now :) did you know Ted Bundy was Mormon? I was about, maybe 6? When I was sitting in church wondering who the secret psycho-path in the room was. Everyone was always in a “perfect competition” like who can pretend to be more perfect than the other. Not a shred of humbling personalities, just a bunch of maybe it’s maybelline coverups. Why would you allow your pre-pubescent teenager alone in a closed door room with this “bishop” who probably gets off on all your dirty sins that they oddly ask specifics about. Just Why? Nothing ever happened to me personally in the church, but I would not be surprised by the least on how many silent victims are walking on this planet terrified to speak because a religious community blames the outfit not the rapist. It’s always, “this is why you don’t wear that.” Or “well maybe if you weren’t hanging out with those people” instead of what should actually be the reverse. Like , “who raised their son to think it’s okay to make a poor choice that effected my child’s body and well being for the rest of their life?” Rapists rape people not outfits! It’s time to end slut shaming and victim blaming! This right here, again is a glitch in the system. The amount of unsolved murders reported cases that never went anywhere. Weed dealers getting a higher sentence than a child rapist? This goes beyond my own crown chakra’s comprehension. Probably because it’s a fixable glitch that authorities often overlook and block out. When my best friend was murdered they didn’t even look farther than the fact that she danced at a club and drank sometimes. So her murder (according to the police investigator) “was just a lifestyle that caught up to her” he says. Meanwhile I know for a fact being a mother myself my best friend would not have chosen this she was date raped and killed. A mother of three young children is not going to Rest In Peace trying to raise her kids behind a thin glass veil. Another unacceptable glitch in the system.
So, what do you do?
You become the glitch in the system.
Stand up for who you are, for what you believe in. Sometimes when you become the glitch, you play both sides with a good god damn poker face. (Shoutout to the Mormons who taught me how to “Act that Maybe it’s maybelline” style) I won’t stop voicing up for the victims who deserve justice! Even if it means I walk the line to get the info I need, I will be the glitch in the system. I speak for those who won’t, those who are no longer alive and can’t. Whether you died a victim or lived out to be a survivor the system doesn’t get to manipulate the facts circulating around these situations anymore. FACTS ON FACTS ON FACTS
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e-Portfolio in Media Lit
Task #2
Malik, Fatima Zahra A.
12 - STEM Abequibel
A.) Choose 1 photo from a magazine, newspaper, or website and analyze what it is trying to tell readers. If it’s a photo for an advertisement, describe what the photos are doing for the product sold.
The picture above is from a magazine, it is a photo for an advertisement. In the photo you can see that the model which is known as Gigi Hadid launched “Gigi Hadid x Maybelline collection” in her collection there are a lot of matte liquid lipsticks with a lot of shades and it says in the picture that the lipstick last for 16 hours which is amazing for me and by the fact that this lipsticks has 30 shades in all because I got to choose what color is really suitable for me. Gigi continued on to share the inspiration behind her line, revealing she named the red lipstick “Khair” after her little sister Bella’s middle name because,”Bella’s favorite color is red and it’s kind of the red she has worn her whole life.” Therefore this photo encourages people especially teenager girls like me who loves to wear make up to buy this lipsticks because beside that it is not that expensive like any other lipsticks it is also very pigmented and can last long in your lips.
B.) Choose an existing pop song and interpret its lyrics. Decipher what the song is all about and list down the situations being narrated in the song.
The song that I chose is “Me!” By Taylor Swift featuring Brendon Urie. For the verse one of the song she’s listing all of the negative, which is something that I tend to do a lot, it’s like if I’m going to try to sell somebody something, or try to convince them with something; I’m going to list all of the negatives first, so I empathise with that. Then in the chorus and the pre-chorus she lists the positives, then for the verse 2 Is which is a thing that made me think that it’s funny, it doesn’t really fit into the spirit of the song, I thought the idea was that we’re all okay just the way we are! So now all of the sudden we’re playing in a comparison game? It doesn’t seem to me that Brendon Urie really got the spirit of this song, which doesn’t seem off character from him anyway. Then Taylor continues on saying, And when we had that fight out in the rain. You ran after me and called my name, I never wanna see you walk away (And there's a lot of lame guys out there) Many speculate those "lame guys" are definitely in reference to Taylor's past, where she used to have a reputation for dating various famous men - Harry Styles, John Mayer, Joe Jonas, etc. The lyric "I will never bore you, baby" could specifically be in reference to Tom, though especially considering tabloid reports hinted that Tom dumped Taylor because he got bored of her. Lastly what Taylor Swift is trying to communicate through the song is the message of “Yes! Go and be yourself, and whatever kind of version that you are, just be that version” And so we go to the bridge, and this is probably the part that I enjoyed the most, but also had the biggest question about, Girl, there ain't no I in "team" But you know there is a "me" Which is a common cliche that we hear a lot; and it’s not in the sense that they're doing bad, they’re obviously doing a bit with it. Then they go into the chorus and an outro and it’s this pretty happy fun anthem-like thing; and I think that this song accomplishes very well what it was set out to do, which is to be sort of like a party rousing song; “It’s nice and fun to be just you, because you’re unique. The song 'ME!' is a song about embracing your individuality and really celebrating it and owning it, with this pop song, we have the ability to get a melody really stuck in people's heads, and I just want it to be one that makes them feel better about themselves. The lyrics were also trying to tell us that we should really appreciate ourselves because we are who we are and no one or nobody can be like you because you are you and you are unique and one of a kind. The hype about this song is that it’s about “me”, and the way that I am is okay and great, but it’s all in the context of a relationship; which makes it a little more complicated, and it’s not necessarily bad, as I think that it’s really good that this song establishes the value of the individual. Taylor Swift has said in an interview talking about how there are all of those advertisements that tells you how you should be to look better, and how you should be wealthier, or healthier, or whatever; and to an extent, you just have to say “Yeah, I am who I am, and that’s great, there is only one “ME!”, right?”; and that’s the main gist of these lyrics, this emphasis of the individual.
C.) Pick a music video and watch it several times. Study it closely to see if the visuals are affecting the song. Or is the song helping the visuals in a way?
The music video that I chose was “Look what you made me do” by Taylor Swift. After watching her music video I have noticed that the song is helping the visuals because it is so accurate like the lyrics really matched the visuals in the music video. The music video begins with a zombified T-Swift digging her own grave so the old Swift is dead, resigned to the graveyard of pop culture history. First, we see the aforementioned tombstone, where Swift’s reputation lies, but also a second one, reading “Nils Sjoberg”, the pseudonym Swift used as a co-writer on her ex-boyfriend Calvin Harris’s song, This Is What You Came For, a collaboration widely assumed to have contributed to their breakup. Swift’s writing credit was supposed to be kept secret, but when her team revealed that she had, in fact, written the Harris-Rihanna hit, her ex went on a tweetstorm about how Swift was looking for “someone new to try and bury”. So she buried the fictitious Mr Sjoberg.
In the next shot, Swift luxuriates in a tub of diamonds, where there sits a single dollar bill, a possible reference to the symbolic dollar she earned in last month’s sexual assault case against the radio DJ who groped her in 2013.
This next part of the videl was a dead giveaway, Swift sits atop a throne as dozens of snakes slither at her feet. One even serves her what we can only assume is piping hot tea, the kind Kim Kardashian dished out when she released audio of Swift, who publicly disputed Kanye West’s lyric about her in Famous, appearing to sign off on those same lyrics in a phone conversation with West. Afterwards, Swift’s reputation as a snake in sheep’s clothing took off; Kardashian helped further that image by tweeting a bunch of snake emojis on international snake day. More than a year later, it seems Swift’s ready to embrace the title: ahead of the single’s release, she dropped cryptic reptilian teaser videos. And now, the snake has shed her skin.
So in the next shot, as the chorus begins, Swift rams a shiny gold car into a storefront where paparazzi are lurking. She opens the door, a cheetah in tow, to show off none other than her Grammy award. She proceeds to display and caress it in one of the video’s most bewildering moments.
Swift’s love of cats is well documented. Here, she’s surrounded by stacks of cash and a Girl Squad of masked felines, wielding a baseball bat and a sweater that says “Blind for Love”. In the next scene, the masked marauders can be seen robbing a music streaming company. Swift, if you remember, boycotted Spotify for years due to its dismal compensation of artists. She also wrote an open letter to Apple Music in 2014 arguing on behalf of increased artists compensation and then took to Tumblr, in June 2015, blasting Apple’s decision to give users three-month free trials. And now she’s back to rob them, cat imagery to boot.
The next part of the video was made waves for its apparent resemblance to a shot from Beyoncé’s Formation video. But the real hidden gem is the backup dancers’ belly shirts, which read “I Heart TS”. Tom Hiddleston, one of Swift’s ex-boyfriends, was caught in a similar shirt when splashing around the beaches of Rhode Island with Swift.
Finally, the last part is when the Swifts both old and new assemble before an airplane, where the word “reputation” appears again. Overall I think that the song really help the visuals in a way that it was really created beautifully (the music video) and for me the music video is a masterpiece becausr I have also learned the real meaning behind it, the song song is also about her struggles in the past and how she handled herself.
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