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pinkchanelbag · 3 years

Text

truthfully, miserably. [m. fushiguro]

the truth came to him like a drowning man’s first breath, but came far too late; you were already long gone.

cw: literally just angst.

wc: 1.5k.

note: this doesn’t even have a plot??? it’s just me directing my bummed out energy on my poor baby megumi i feel so bad i have to like write him fluffly headcanons or something after this.

“you’re lying.”

megumi stiffened his body to suppress the shudder that passed through him. he worried that those words would haunt him for the rest of his life.

how terrifying it was to watch himself become undone by those two words. he’d known himself to be an honest man, a good man. it didn’t ever occur to him that lying about something as intangible, inconsequential as his own feelings could hurt someone; could make him a worse person.

“it’s not the right time. i’m too busy to worry about you more than i already do. i can’t worry about your feelings too.”

it had been a harsh statement but an been an easy lie. so easy that he was mildly convinced of it himself until the moment you’d pulled it to pieces before him and turned your back on him with a suitcase in one hand.

you’re lying.

a dark feeling manifested in his gut at knowing those were your last words to him. knowing the last time you looked upon him, your face was pulled into something like disbelief, hurt, hopelessness, and tears sat in your eyes but didn’t fall. it was the face of a person spread thin, a person giving up.

the night was windy enough for it to be noticeable. the breeze tossed megumi’s hair before his eyes and obscured his vision of the train station.

he had stayed behind when the first and second years and gojo sensei accompanied you in farewell.

“you sure?” gojo sensei had asked with a titled head and rare genuine empathy.

“don’t think she’d want me there.” part of him had believed it to be true, but another part of him, the part that sneered at his cowardice knew it was also because he hadn’t come to terms with his own actions. he hadn’t been ready to face you after being hit with the crushing reality of his own deceit. part of him couldn’t make himself process that the hurt in your face wasn’t because of his words, but because of the fact that you knew they weren’t true.

gojo had simply sighed, paused for a few beats before saying,

“utahime will text me as soon as she’s picked her up from the station.” the sorcerer’s intuition had let him on to the circumstances, and it was that intuition that knew megumi would benefit from being reassured of the girl’s whereabouts. knowing this, megumi had thanked his sensei with deep sincerity, a rarity of his own.

he didn’t even know why he’d come. you’d departed before the sun had gone down. a creeping feeling told him it was because he should have been there. a part of him felt like he’d arrived several hours late to the most important encounter of his life.

he supposed he was here because it was the last place he knew for a fact that you’d been in; that a few hours ago, you stood on the platform. maybe your fingers tapped against the handle of your suitcase like they often did when you felt anticipatory. maybe you smiled at the others with your eyes and hugged them with your whole body. you’d always had a way of pouring every single thing in your heart and mind into your interactions—your eyes, words, your touch. megumi had always seen it as both powerful and stupid. you were truer than any other person he’d ever met. your heart teetered on your sleeve, but it was by no means weak. you felt with no shame or inhibition, and it was your superpower. but the way you couldn’t—wouldn’t—mask your feelings in any way made you an exposed nerve. you were all offence and no defence. at first, to megumi, it was irritating. he hadn’t liked being called out or being slapped in the face by your vulnerability and not knowing what to do with it.

then he came to know you. irritation turned to apprehensiveness; the feeling of wanting to grab you by the shoulders and shake you into some sense. to tell you to not be so open. a feeling as if he was constantly worrying about a toddler falling off a cliff. but you never changed, and he got somewhat used to it. and then he knew it was you, and knew he wouldn’t want you differently. then, unexpectedly, he came to like, even to admire, that quality in you. the anxiety never went away. all that had changed was that the more time he spent around you, the more he needed to protect your heart as you never would.

it’s not the right time.

it was a lie. and he of all people should’ve known better than to believe it. after having lost too many people far too soon in his life, he should’ve known that time becomes inconsequential, in the end. he should’ve known that you knew, which justified your look of incredulousness at his words. he wondered if you, with your terrifying ability to see through his every atom, had known that he didn’t truly mean to lie, because he had convinced himself of something that wasn’t true. megumi’s own heart answered painfully. of course you’d known. how long had you been wrestling with his iron-grip emotions before you gave up on trying to help him see truth?

it had taken far too many hours, but the initial shock and cowardice had just about worn off. on the dark, empty platform, megumi faced himself. not for his sake—for yours. for what you had been trying to do for him before he’d pushed you away more times than even your kind soul could handle.

with a lump in his throat, he thought about and acknowledged that as much as he should’ve known to cherish people before they were gone, he equally held himself back from growing close to anyone for fear of how badly their loss would hurt him. your closeness scared him more than any other because he knew that if anything ever happened to you, anything at all, he’d never be the same. it wouldn’t matter if you healed from whatever physical or emotional scars had been caused. megumi would never be able to feel like he belonged to the same world that had done you harm. his fists clenched in anger. and what had he done, exactly? he’d been the one to hurt you in a selfish pursuit of preservation.

you’re lying.

he’d been lying. he could own up to that now. he had to make his amends in some way, and not in hopes that it’ll make you give him another chance, but because you did what he hadn’t. you’d acted selflessly for his sake. you’d tried to help him be better, you’d tried to love him and to tell him—because i like you, fushiguro—to tell him that and whether or not you were around or would ever be around again to witness it, he would be better. and he’d start with this.

what’s the truth?

there was little thinking involved in what happened next. it wasn’t a conscious thought at all. it wasn’t so different from finally emerging from too much time spent underwater and the way your body pulls a dizzyingly deep breath into your lungs without your conscious decision or consent. for megumi, that was what it felt like to realize he loved you.

he choked on a sob as the words piled into existence. i love you.

he’d never been open emotionally, particularly with intimate feelings. that was why the conviction and forwardness with which he felt this truth shocked him—or would have, if he could’ve focused on anything else. vaguely he wondered if this is how you felt all your emotions. with such ferocious acceptance that no one could possibly mold them into weakness when they felt so much like strength.

i love you.

his body was nearly aglow with it. it bubbled up inside him and threatened to spill over.

“i..i love you.”

for just a moment, two opposite universes crossed. he stood inside that unfulfilled reality, where on this platform on this day he’d arrived before the sun had fallen and said those words to your listening ears rather than to deserted train tracks. he looked between himself and the reality where he’d done right by time, and he didn’t know which was the ghost.

“i love you.”

he spoke the words to the wind, and it heard him and whistled in empathy, but it would not carry his message to you.

“i love you...i love you.”

megumi watched those words that scalded the inside of his mouth materialize only to be carried out of existence. without you to hear them, they meant nothing, no matter how much they felt like breathing fire. but for all their uselessness, he didn’t dare to not say them, even as they burned his lips. for one thing, they were the truth.

“i love you,” he said miserably. “i love you. i love you. i love you.”

right person, wrong time. how backwards a saying that was. he scoffed tearfully. not even the watery eyes took away from the dry, bitter expression on his face. he was the one—he had wronged time. how long had he spent deluding himself about all the reasons he should let you go? the timing had always been right—he was what was wrong. and now you’d broken his heart like he’d broken yours. his tears sunk and hid into his pores and his face turned to stone, and you were gone, and he’d never love again.

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi headcanons #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro imagine #megumi oneshot #megumi smut #jjk x reader #jjk angst #fushiguro x reader #nia.megumi #nia.txt

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obeiii-mee · 4 years

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How will the bros react to MC self-doubting themselves? Like saying bad things about them or can't be serious someone give them compliment.

Supportive demon bois coming right up! Sorry I took so long to write this anon! Thank you so much for the ask! (Also, thank you all for the love on my previous posts!)

————————————

The Brothers with an MC who self doubts themselves:

Lucifer:

-As the embodiment of pride itself, Lucifer has an overwhelming amount of confidence, almost all the damn time

-So, he was flabbergasted to learn that you weren’t the same

-He always insisted that you aren’t anything but perfect, yet you always seemed to brush the compliments off with a shrug and an awkward smile

-Well, shit, we can’t have that

-Lucifer just got 10x more serious about the matter

-He pulls a really stupid concerned face whenever you insult yourself and he looks more and more like a 48 year old man/dad each time it happens

-He, as of late, increased the number of pet names he has for you and the amount of compliments he gives you each day

-He refuses to let you talk badly about yourself anywhere, at any point in time and encourages every little step you take towards bettering yourself like crazy

- Lucifer wants to prove to you that you are an absolute ray of sunshine and he will go to any lengths to do just that (do not ask)

-He’s even more affectionate than usual which confuses just about everyone in the House of Lamentation, yourself included

-His brothers are feeling a disturbance in the force and they don’t know how to feel about it

-You are possibly the best thing that’s happened to him since he fell as angel and Lucifer is ready to do whatever he can to help you realise that

Mammon:

-“You’re an idiot!”

-“*Sigh*, I know.”

-“Wha-Wait! Y-you can’t say thAT!”

-The Great Mammon is seriously worried about his human

-Being the dense motherfucker he is (i still love him tho) it took him weeks to realise you’re not all that confident in yourself

-At some point in your relationship, he jokingly called you annoying and you just went “Yeah I’ve been told. Sorry.”

-His jaw literally dropped and he almost cried

-He would have choked if he was drinking something

-Tsundere Mammon has gone bye bye and here comes the cuddling teddy bear that is your boyfriend

-He also doesn’t have as much self love for himself as he sometimes pretends to have so he’s kinda in the same boat

-Which means your boat is leaking and you’re perfectly fine with it while he’s panicking and trying to throw water overboard with his hands

-His brothers call him an idiot a lot but he’s a very sociable guy with people skills that he uses all the time in order to coax you out of your self pitiying shell

-Will whine every time you call yourself ‘useless’ or disagree with his compliments because what the hell, you’re literally the most gorgeous being ever let me love youuuu

-When it comes to you and your happiness, he ain’t fucking around. He will snarl at anyone that even looks at you in the wrong way

-Did that to Lucifer once, guess a what happened

-You’ve definitely helped him come to terms with the fact that he is loveable and not a good for nothing scum

-So now it’s your turn!

-Let him kiss your insecurities away please

-Your presence makes him feel wanted so he wants the same for you!

Levi:

-Well then

-It takes two to tango ya know?

-He is the KING of self loathing and no confidence whatsoever in anything he does so every time you put yourself down, he counters it with a self deprecating insult as well

-“I suck.”

-“Nah, you’re pretty awesome normie. I’m the shut in, disgusting otaku who can barely set foot outside his bedroom without having an anxiety attack.”

-It’s like you’re trying to outdo the other on who is worse

-Truth is, he really admires you, especially knowing you chose to date him; an anime nerd with no social life and no communication skills whatsoever

-It hurts a bit, every time he builds up the courage to actually compliment you and you not taking it seriously

-That’s because he recognises that he’s the same and just as harsh on himself as you are

-Levi knows self hatred is something that takes time to demolish

-But you are his Henry after all (also his partner but whatevs)

-He’s not gonna leave you hanging when you need him the most

-He also gradually stops calling you a normie as your relationship progresses, though it still slips through every now and again

-Basically, the first time he realised that you think negatively of yourself, his immediate reaction was: Haha lmao relatable

-But now, every time it happens, he gets all serious

-Puts his controller down and everything, it’s like witnessing a very rare phenomenon and it’s creepy as shit

-He’s also made an effort to be more physically affection though he is kinda shy about it because damn it he just wants to hug you every time you speak badly of yourself

-Probably writes a list at some point stating all the reasons why you are better than him and Ruri chan combined, it’s rlly sweet

Satan:

-He’s a bit curious as to where that mentality has come from

-What triggered you to be so self doubtful?

-He’s basically your psychotherapist and asks you a lot of questions trying to find different causes and solutions for your issues

-Honestly, he puts so much effort into trying to understand, reading books about it from the human realm and whatever he can find in order to help you

-He scrunches up his nose every time you call yourself an idiot or anything of the sort

-Satan knows that insisting you’re wonderful won’t exactly help you overcome this problem of yours

-But that doesn’t stop him from doing it

-It’s not like you can ignore his comments because he will keep complimenting you until you accept them

-He also repeats a lot of pick up lines but that’s just part of being his partner

-What do you mean you’re worthless?!! He would literally give away all of his books and his hatred for Lucifer in exchange for your well being!

-Satan is possibly the smartest out of all of his brothers, so he uses a tactical approach on this one

-Direct affectionate gestures don’t work on you so he’s gonna be more subtle

-Would slightly hint that you are amazing every time you do something for him, like fetching him a book or something

-“Ah thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you love.”

-He’s a lot smoother than he gives himself credit for

-He just appreciates your existence and that there’s someone out there that he doesn’t need to be act hostile or fake toward

-Satan is ready to sit down and listen to you talk about your insecurities for hours on end

-You would quietly say something bad about yourself and he would run through the House of Lamentation before bursting into the room you are in, shouting ‘No! That’s wrong!’ (going Danganronpa on your asses)

-“Welp, I fucked up again. I can’t do anything right.”

-And then, in the distance you hear boss music starting

Asmo:

-*Shocked Gasp*

-How could you say such things about yourself???? Is that even leGAl?

-Of course, the literally prince of Lust, with all of his narcissism, has never experienced things like ‘self doubt’ of ‘bad self esteem’

-Pfft, the fuck is that?

-He only uses the most positive of words when he describes himself

-So obviously he almost falls off the bed when he hears you insulting yourself for the first time

-But ya know, that would leave bruises on his beautiful skin

-“Oh darling, you’re not annoying or a moron! You’re not anything like Mammon!”

-That was a below belt fatal hit, press f in the chat for the second eldest

-At some point, he just genuinely believes you’ve been spending too much time with Levi and that his negativity started rubbing off on you

-But then you tell him you’ve always been like this and he almost has a crisIS

-He’s like ‘Haha, no, we’re going to get a spa day out tomorrow and a few shopping sprees so I can prove to you that you are magnificent in every way imaginable.’

-Asmo loves pampering you in general but on the days he sees you feeling extra sorry for yourself, he goes above and beyond

-Gets very hurt when you brush off his compliments because he just wants you to accept the fact that you’re beautiful

-He’s like a supportive mom lmao, whenever you’re feeling self doubtful, he goes “You’re doing great sweetie, keep it up I’m really proud of you.”

-It’s up to you to decide whether that helps or not

-He’s such a sweetheart in reality, it’s hard to remember that he’s supposed to be horny all the time

-Well he is but that’s not the point, you’re way more important

-Asmo is so much fun to write cuz I can make him so dramatic it’s hilarious

Beel:

-Oh no :(

-He gets very sad everytime you self deprecate yourself

-You can’t do it with him in the room because he’s going to start crying and give you this kicked puppy stare, it will break your heart

-Beel kinda comes over and goes “If I give you some of my food will you please stop saying bad things about yourself? Because it’s not true.”

-Well you can’t say no to that face

-He feels like it’s his fault you’re this self doubtful even though you’ve tried to explain to him you’ve always been like this

-He goes crying to his twin half the time because he doesn’t know what to do

-“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to drop it! Fucking hell, I’m such a fucking klutz.”

-“Sniffle no you’re not.”

-He’s like, giving you large portions of his food now

-Because food makes him happy so he wants you to be happy too

-🙂

-His brothers go in shock every time because the only other person Beel has ever shared his food with before was Belphie

-Physical affection goes through the roof with this guy

-Bone crushing hugs btw

-Your self worth is so immeasurable with him, you can’t even measure it

-W h o a

-I’m being serious, don’t talk badly about yourself in front of him unless you want to be hugged into next week

-You are a literal angel in his eyes, of course he thinks highly of you

-He’s just hoping his presence isn’t making your self esteem worse, that’s the thing that keeps him up at night

-Idk why but he does think that he is a bad influence on your mental well being since he’s a demon

-Beel gives you compliments all the time and it confuses him when you laugh them off uncertainly because he wasn’t joking or lying??

-He’s always supportive of your choices and encourages you to be more confident

-The same way you show your support everytime you come to his games to cheer him on

-Overall, he just wants you to feel special and appreciated

-Because you deserve it

-IneedmyselfaBeel

Belphie:

-He feels like absolute shit

-Becuase he’s well aware he‘s called you a few...not so nice words in the past

-Back then, he only thought he meant everything he said but now that he’s hearing you accept his insults and actually repeating them yourself?

-It hurts his brain and he wants to smash his head against all four walls of the room for being such a cretin

-You do tell him it’s not exactly his fault you think so badly of yourself

-But he still believes he fueled it

-So now he needs to fix it

-He’s tried everything and I mean everything

-It’s kinda working, slow progress is made which he’s really happy about but you know, it’s gonna take a while

-He finally settles on physical affection as the best way to communicate his gratefulness for you being youself

-Oh, he wasn’t hugging you before? He is now, get your ass next to him and let him cuddle you

-Handholding has increased by 69% in the last month, sorry for the loss of your right hand with how much he squeezes it

-Sometimes, he can’t help but a throw an insult at you in a playful manner, because he’s an asshole

-But he always makes sure you understand that he was just joking

-He’s such a little shit, you would be having a chat with him and you would subtly drop a insult at yourself hoping he wouldn’t notice

-But then he stops dead in his tracks, kisses you, says “Shut up, you’re stunning” and then he goes right back to the previous conversation like nothing happened

-Accept his compliments damn it otherwise he will continue to bug you about it for the rest of the day

-He’s an eboy and he’s a dickhead a times, but he just goes soft for you tbh

-If you’re feeling really bad about yourself, he won’t even say anything

-He will just big spoon you for the next 24 hours, good luck going to the bathroom or any meals during that time

-Because once you’re in his grip, you’re not getting out that easily

-He gets so pissy if anyone says something even slightly negative about you to your face

-One time, a random demon called you stupid in one of the classes at RAD and he was like ‘bïtch excuse me what?’

-Snapped his head around at him and everything

-He would have done something worse but he was lazy and feeling really petty

-So Belphie kicked him in the privates from under his desk like a damn spoiled brat

-And then he turned his head back to you, all smiles and rainbows and puppies

-I’m simping so hard for a fictional character wtf

-I had to write more protective Belphie cuz I can’t find anything of the sort anymore and I need flUFF

(Haha, I don’t know what this post is, my writing has officially taken a shit lmao. Sorry this took so long to finish, I kept going back to edit all of them)

Al~

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #⭐️ requests #🌸 comfort #☂️ demon brothers

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not-delicious-milk · 3 years

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yo I'm gonna be a coward. I've read fan fiction since middle school, and during that time I've read some truly cursed things. I personally have tried to avoid reading mentor/student relationships cause they squik me the f out. But I've always been more treat the immortals like they are their apparent physical age for shipping. So people trying to lewd the pre pubescent with the excuse that they're immortal are obviously full of shit. pt 1.

pt.2 but shipping like Rukia/ Ichigo is fine cause they're the same apparent physical age and act with about the same lvl of maturity. While shipping him with Yoruichi would be sketch. So full disclosure I don't ship Sukuna and Megumi, I don't really see them having chemistry, and no one has written anything good enough to change my mind. But it doesn't freak me out like Megumi and Gojo. Would you be willing to write why you don't consider the vampire rule to apply here?

i’m not completely familiar with the vampire rule, but i would assume you mean that apparent age trumps actual age when it lines up with mental and emotional development?

personally, i’m not a huge fan of that train of thought -- i agree that it’s important to consider mental age when it comes to immortals or very, very old entities, but actual age is still important. and that’s because of the whole reason why big age gaps are fucked up, i.e an imbalance of power that can easily be exploited. adults have more experience, influence, and physical maturity than children or teens do, which they can leverage to groom or abuse a younger partner. as much as i will admit to not hating twilight that much (breaking dawn made me want to give myself a lobotomy though) and honestly sort of liking the trope of “human girl in love with an ancient supernatural being” or any variants of that, there’s an important distinction that needs to be made with it so it’s not awful.

the answer has little to do with mental age. it has to do with power dynamics.

for a vampire romance (which i’m just going to use as a general term for these sorts of relationships) it is absolutely necessary for there to be some caveat in place to prevent the supernatural party from just taking advantage of the mortal one. usually we don’t even think about that when reading or watching vampire romances, because how could such a charming creature of the night stoop so low?

but it’s important to note that vampires, in gothic literature, existed to fulfill a very specific role. the repressed victorians loved incorporating taboo subjects into their stories, for the steamy scenes i guess, but couldn’t easily do so within the confines of proper literature. one of those taboo subjects was r*pe, which they both found very hot in a forbidden sort of way and longed to explore in their writing without societal backlash, and if you cast an eye upon dracula or carmilla it’s quite easy to guess where those subjects ended up.

so, for a proper vampire romance, it can’t just end in a straight up kidnapping or taking by force, both because that would be narratively uninteresting and morally corrupt. sometimes there’s a supernatural reason for it, like a protection that the mortal party has to prevent the immortal one from abusing their powers. for example, bella in twilight is immune to telepathy and later develops a shield power against all vampire powers, preventing edward from being able to take advantage of her or invade her privacy any more than he was already doing, fuck you stephanie meyer. sometimes the mortal party has a power of their own that, while relatively useless in situations where the immortal one can swoop in and save them dramatically, is very useful against said immortal party for whatever reason. for example, kagome’s status as the reincarnation of the priestess migoriko would theoretically prevent inuyasha from harming her; in a more explicit example, nanami from kamisama kiss holds absolute divine control over tomoe and could order him to stop if ever he tried anything she didn’t like. although there’s an age gap in those stories, it doesn’t feel like it, not just because of the immortal party’s mental age but because of their inability to take advantage of said gap.

can you see where this is going?

megumi/gojo is absolutely foul -- there’s the grooming aspect, the fact gojo knew megumi when he was five and practically raised him as a father, and the implicit power imbalance of a teacher/student relationship. there’s no question as to why it’s so repulsive to think about.

megumi/sukuna is equally repulsive, but really only when it exists in fan works. in the canon, sukuna doesn’t have the opportunity to so much as interact with megumi most of the time, let alone take advantage of him, and yuuji would stop that before it ever happened. it feels like a classic vampire romance because the power imbalance should, theoretically, be nerfed by outside circumstances. of course this isn’t the case in any sukufushi fanworks, because it would obviously be boring for sukuna to respect megumi’s boundaries and also to not date a fucking 15 year old from inside the body of another 15 year old, jesus christ. in sukufushi fanworks, which as i’ve stated is the only place sukufushi even exists, there is always something cancelling out the restraints placed on sukuna’s power, whether it be that he has his own body, takes advantage of “enchain”, is able to take control of yuuji’s body on his own, yuuji lets him out for whatever reason, it doesn’t matter.

there’s always something like that because sukufushi doesn’t exist as a vampire romance, it exists as something more like tentacle p*rn.

that’s not a sentence i ever thought i’d write, but i think it makes sense? it’s not supposed to be an actual relationship, it’s more like wish fulfillment for people with degradation and pain kinks. in sukufushi fan works, sukuna wields absolute power over megumi and takes full advantage of the age gap and power gap between them. just like how tentacle p*rn strips away the right to refuse in the face of absolute alien power and a language barrier that keeps consent from being withdrawn, sukufushi strips away megumi’s right to refuse in the face of absolute curse power and sukuna’s inability to take “no” for an answer. this is why all explicit sukufushi fics end with megumi being r*ped or nearly r*ped.

please don’t ask me how i know all of this. sometimes good fanfics have sukufushi scenes in them and i have to like, scroll past the paragraphs really fast to get back to the plot. it’s just that omnipresent.

in other words, megumi/gojo is more grounded in “reality” (not the reality of a functional teacher/student relationship, but the reality of a 28 year old man really being 28 years old) and absent of vampire romance justifications for the age gap. it feels gross because it is and also because there’s no reason why it shouldn’t be.

megumi/sukuna doesn’t feel that way at first, especially if you mainly see sort of canon compliant shipping of it. it’s really common and also never commented on when people joke about sukuna having a “crush” on megumi based on his lines of dialogue when he says he’s curious about him or whatnot. that obeys vampire romance rules, so it doesn’t feel weird. sukuna really doesn’t want to kill or harm megumi because he’s important to his plans later, so that’s out. yuuji would never let sukuna touch megumi with a 10 foot pole either, so that’s out. really their only interactions are hypothetical, besides that one time in shibuya, and even then literally nothing happened. sukuna didn’t want his pawn to break yet, that’s all. even when people overanalyze it they can’t really get any farther than “looks like someone’s got a crush on fushigurooooo” because that’s the farthest it can go.

if you start looking into sukufushi fanart or fanfics, which is about 95% of the content for sukufushi anyway because again, it’s not supported by the canon at all, vampire romance is replaced unceremoniously by tentacle p*rn. which is why i hate it so much.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

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kevv · 4 years

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a goodbye letter- abandoning current social media

i'm not the best at writing out my thoughts. forgive me if this feels scrambled and scraped together. my best friend, Fox, once said in abridged words; "it takes two to play out an abandonment fantasy, one to have it, and the other to follow suit".

i've known several handfuls of people who fear abandonment, or more specifically, being the one abandoned; scared that one day everyone in their life will take leave. and sometimes, like a self-fulfilling prophecy, they do. they leave in mass exodus, set into motion by one person who wants to set-forth their own abandonment fantasy– abandoning everyone else.

for me, my own fear of abandonment is not anyone abandoning me, i'm unbothered by people entering my life and leaving of their own accord; i'm scared i'll be the one to abandon everyone in my life. because i have. several times. i still do, even. i'll meet people in my lifetime that i loved harder than the universe itself, a deep love so terrifying i feel that it'll demolish cities and townships, friends and lovers and found-family. my skin will buzz and blaze alight with such an intense fear, a fear that i will ruin them and everything they are so i must run. it's unfounded, but it drives me away, and i fight tooth and nail to get to that escape route for those who won't let me leave quietly, until it ends in disaster. it's my own abandonment fantasy. i recall once, an ex-lover wanted me to stay. tried to lock the door and toss away the key, and said it hurt that i wanted an out. so i caused problems until i could break out through the window. not being allowed an option to leave made me feel like a feral, caged animal; because in the end, that's all i am. i hadn't done it on purpose. the need to escape everything had been there months prior. the events leading up to it had been fuzzy at best, sickly at worst, and i had been spoonfed misinformation. not on purpose, not in malicious intent, but still it struck genuine fear in my heart. like a feral animal, i want the option to roam. to come and go as i please. i can't be kept, i just want the trust that i'll find my way back eventually. if i feel contained, i scratch and bite until i'm released. but if you hold out your hand and wait patiently, i'll come to you. but don't ask me to stay. please don't ask me to stay. there's a lot that lead up to this current migration. the inability to be allowed to stand on my own two-feet and exist as just purely Kevin, not adjacent to someone, was a big one. still to this day i am asked about a youtuber i am no longer affiliated with by my own choice. i don't like attention, it's something i've said to her, said to many, and why i chose to never appear in her videos. which seems contradictory for an artist who posts on social media and previously did all of her older channel art. but maybe now i'm realizing that truthfully, i wanted recognition for me, not for others or for who i made myself sick in order to create content for. it's inescapable. i harbor no hard feelings anymore, i understand i was in the peak of my codependency and was willing to ruin myself for the benefit of another. to run myself broke and dry because at 19 years old i was still a child who didn't know how to handle the extent of his emotions. i want to apologize to penny. neither of us are really blameless, but we were inexperienced and young– still young. it's easy to not know what we're doing, to unintentionally take advantage of someone who was willing to burn themselves to give you warmth, or to latch onto an unfounded rumor and bare my teeth. i hope you're doing well, and i'm sorry. i'd like to give you a proper apology one day, when i'm more ready. that day is not today. sometimes i feel like there are four people living inside my brain, all with dissenting opinions and voices that i can't tell who i am anymore. i feel like i'm constantly contradicting myself because i don't know what my own thoughts are. i don't know who i am anymore. i don't know who i am anymore because i'm several different people all trying to be "kevin", all with different beliefs that go against a previous one. i prematurely deleted my twitter account for this reason, i couldn't stand a second more of being in a toxicity cycle i had previously taken part in, because sometimes that's all social media is. it's very... Online. i want to be one, unified person. whose thoughts and feelings are unadulterated by others surrounding him. additionally, there's the elephant in the room. some have already guessed it, suspected it, saw something like it coming from miles away. but for others who have known me for the past decade, it might be a surprise. someone once told me that words have power, and while at the time i disagreed, i'm starting to understand what she meant now. i've been afraid to speak it into existence, because it means it's real, and coming to terms with this unavoidable truth is a terrifying experience, one i need to face and stop running away from.

i'm detransitioning. giving life to this phrase doesn't make me feel any better. words have power, and that power is to make me crumble and break. since as early as 4 years old, i felt as if i was born a boy who was just being raised as a girl. at 12 was when i learned about and started identifying as transgender. at 18 i legally changed my name. for a decade, i lived as a transgender man. i've mentioned this before, but i'm intersex. i have an androgen insensitivity syndrome. what this means is that androgens, male sex hormones, have no effect on me. they instantly are reconverted back into estrogen by my body. this has been a reoccurring nightmare of mine since i was 14, and having it become my reality is.. heartbreaking, to say the least, crushing a lifetime of dreams and wishes. i've tried testosterone, self-medicated in my teen years, and "officially" more recently. it has no effect on me. a friend of mine says i shouldn't give up hope until i properly see an endocrinologist about HRT, but the reality is– i know my body, and i know my condition. i don't grow body hair, and my body cannot masculinize. these are unavoidable truths. i don't need to spend hundreds of dollars to be told what i already know. HRT will not affect me; i will never be able to transition. any attempt will become a scientific study in which i'm a guinea pig. i don't want that. i will never pass for male. my voice is high, my body is undoubtably female, my face is feminine, and i'm 4'11". it's disheartening and i've shed many tears over it. for what feels like my whole life, i've longed for SRS/GRS, top surgery, a deeper voice, and a couple inches of height. i ache for body hair, masculine fat redistribution, and male pattern baldness. all the good and the bad associated with testosterone is what i so desperately yearn for with such a soul-crushing depravity. i am genuinely heartbroken. maybe it's my punishment for all the bad things i've believed in or done. it's what i'd deserve, i guess. this punishment. it is for those reasons that i feel like i can no longer find comfort in identifying as ftm, to struggle seeing myself as a man. it's crazy, i've referred to myself as male since early childhood, and now that i'm coming to terms with my intersex condition am i feeling wrong in every conceivably way of identity. truthfully, i don't even identify as anything anymore. i'm not nonbinary, cis, or i guess trans. i feel as if i just exist. i just am. you can still call me kevin. it's my name, my legal name– which i love to point out. i'm not changing it. it's the first time i made a decision purely for myself, and went through with it. i love my name. i don't think i will love anything about myself quite like my name. i chose it when i was 12, it was my first choice. i never wanted another name. i still don't. but i like nicknames, particularly kitty and K-K. you can call me those too. these have always been options available. i reiterate– i really like being called nicknames. (: you can still use male pronouns for me. i never minded being "misgendered" because, well, i never passed, and i made peace with that years and years ago. while being called she/her or otherwise will probably always leave a stale taste in my mouth, i've learned to accept the reality of what i am a long time ago. biologically female. you can still use male identifiers for me, like husband or boyfriend or whatever other male terms there are...... actually you'll have to pry those out of my cold dead hands. i will not accept being called a "girlfriend" i will literally go feral and foam at the mouth and bite your ankles until you take it back. there's comfort in these things that i'm not ready to let go of, and frankly, i don't think i'll ever feel ready to. moving forward, i don't really know what i'm going to do. right now i'm taking a break from the internet, so i can soul-search and truly find myself, in all senses of the word and every iteration that it can be built upon. i'll make a new twitter account when i'm ready to, probably. there's a lot more i want to say, to add onto this in addendum, and pour so much of myself into this until it spills out the sides and trickles down into tiny cracks. but truthfully, i don't know how to say it. i don't know its relevancy to this eulogy of an account, and quite honestly, there are still some things i can't find myself able to say. to speak into existence. to give power to those words. admitting aloud to a 6-year long love that burnt like candles catching a home on fire was intense enough (hi Charlotte it's you, it's you and it's always been you and everyone knows this). so maybe i'd rather keep some things to myself, perhaps. preferably. so i guess that's it. i've bared my heart and soul and skin and bones to whoever will read this piece of myself. it's the end to katidoj, one that's been a longtime coming. i've never been very good at staying in one place for very long. please take care, i love you. and i'll miss you. a piece of my heart left with you, here buried deep in this account. (pressing the submit button has never been so hard in my life.)

#goodbye. i hope to be a better version of myself the next time we meet.

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arcticdementor · 3 years

Link

It is appropriate to begin to understand yourself as a combatant in a war that you may only be dimly aware is being waged. You are in fact operating in the battlespace at this very moment. Consider the implications. Consider that you are marked.

Your self-identification as a combatant, or not, is irrelevant. You have been declared an adversary of the True and Just cause of Democracy. The adversary in this war is a floating signifier anyway, purposefully undefined. Don’t go searching for your name in any database (though you may find it there). The adversary can be anyone, at any time. He is a cipher. The territory under contestation is perhaps even less well-demarcated. As a matter of physical geography, it may be said to not exist at all. And yet we are in it. We are fighting it. The war is on.

…

The proclamations of those declaring this war leave vanishingly little room for uncertainty. Their rhetoric is becoming more explicit every day. No one can deny this. Even the soberest mind must acknowledge their increasing belligerence.

“In the aftermath of the insurrection on January 6th…” This is by now a common refrain. Oliver Stone also said — or maybe it was Homer — that every war must start with an event. No doubt they have been waiting a long time to declare their intentions, but now they have finally found their casus belli. When they say that January 6th is their 9/11, this is what they mean. It may seem that the incoherent, spontaneous nature of what happened at the Capitol might vitiate such lofty comparisons. But for the regime, all the better. The ambiguity allows for the widest possible net to be cast over their enemy, as John Brennan would have it, the “unholy alliance” of “religious extremists, authoritarians, fascists, bigots, racists, nativists, even libertarians.”

Tag yourself. Not that any of these terms matter. Again, they are floating signifiers. They mean everything and nothing. Importantly, they mean you. They mean me.

Brennan of course is not alone. Just days after he delivered his ominous remarks, his CIA colleague Robert Grenier wrote an op-ed for the New York Times declaring the forces responsible for January 6th — again, never clearly defined — to be regarded in the same terms as ISIS and Al-Qaeda. He spoke of an ongoing “domestic insurgency” and the need to put it down with the same degree of force as his own Counterrorism division applied to jihadists in Afghanistan and Iraq. Stanley McChrystal echoed nearly identical sentiments within the week. Javed Ali, whose bio reads less like a human being’s than the formless node of the Foreign Policy blob that he is, writing for the Security State rag the Cipher Brief, in an article indicative of the borg-like mass to which he belongs, suggested the “New Right,” which includes the usual litany of conservative bogeymen all the way up to those with such alarming views as, for example, being “pro-2nd amendment,” warrants the creation of Domestic Terrorism laws that would include a domestic surveillance program mirroring the British Security Service to monitor online speech and circumvent Constitutional protections against prior restraint.

…

But beyond the morality play, and the heady drama of the fate of Western man, it’s Lind’s attention to the form and processes of war that are most relevant here. In the 4th Generation war everything is muddled and inexact. Military and civilian life merge into a fluid, indivisible state of mind and being. Everywhere is a potential target. There is a kind of atemporality to it, too. Individual battles never clearly begin or end. Much of it is fought in the digital ether. Fixed points of planning and operation become obsolete, too easily identified and subverted. There are questions about the status of the war itself, and it is often an advantage of the stronger side to plausibly deny there is any war at all.

In the end, Lind resolves these ambiguities in no uncertain terms. His 4th Generation civil war, however abstract and indistinct, eventually reverts to the classic mode. Its wages are measured in lives lost and territory gained. His heroes shoulder their rifles and vanquish their enemies in pools of their own blood. A Christian nation of local, artisanal economies blooms in a Jeffersonian spirit of revitalization. It’s a chilling read, the Minecraft meme brought to life.

But it is in this latter reversion to classic military confrontation where Lind’s map loses touch with the territory we are actually living in. We are not in a war that accommodates armed conflict, nor should we want it to. Let me repeat that for the minders reading this: violence, kids, is not the answer to our current problems.

Rather, some have speculated that what we are living through now is better described as 5th Generation war. A fifth-generation war is one where the ambiguity stands, even more so, but is never quite so manifestly resolved. (This Twitter thread from last October by anon user Reality Gamer provides a useful summary of the concept.)

This war, if we are to adopt the model, which I believe we should — and for which there is much compelling evidence — is fought almost exclusively over ideas. As in Lind’s concept, everything is indistinct, everything is abstracted right up to the point of nonexistence. War and peace, civilian and combatant, battlefield and neutral territory all collapse in a morass of ever-present meta-conflict. The conceptual boundaries between debate, activism, and terrorism are themselves the site of primary engagement. What matters is not who controls the streets in the wake of a clash of forces, but he who decides that the clashes are “mostly peaceful” and their own soldiers just an “idea.”

That is, it is a war over narrative control. Instead of armed battalions, it’s a loose affiliation of entrenched interests — deep-state operatives, media conglomerates, NGOs, lawfare apparatchiks, academics, the many-sided face of globohomo — controlling information networks to shore up their resources and guard against whoever they identify as a threat. These threats and the methods to neutralize them never have to be explicitly stated or shared across the network. In fact, it is better if they aren’t. It obviates the problem of what Edward Luttwack calls the “paradoxical logic of strategy.” Instead, the system, like a black box AI, manages its agenda according to its own hidden processes.

And what is this agenda exactly? To enforce the conditions of consent.

…

What we are experiencing now is something quite different, the regime on war-footing, no longer confident enough in its own legitimacy to dare put that legitimacy to test. And as is the case for all regimes in such a weakened, sclerotic state, though the strategies and tactics are more diffuse and perhaps less blunt than in eras past, we are treated to the same predictable response: crush dissent, flatten and homogenize the culture, divide and alienate the population from one another, declare a monopoly not just on knowledge and belief, but on the asking of questions themselves. Vaclav Havel, writing on the withering Communist regime of his native Czechoslovakia, described this final desperate effort to coerce the population into consent as the “nihilization of life.”

…

When vast swaths of non-compliant Americans are declared domestic insurgents, it behooves us to conduct ourselves accordingly. This is not to say that whatever might broadly be called the ‘Dissident Right’ ought to assume a defensive crouch, or retreat into passive quietism until the regime exhausts itself. Though we may be in the midst of a 5th Generation war, some of the old rules still apply, and the insurgent, however diminished, however outgunned — metaphorically, of course — has certain advantages he can make use of.

Another war historian, David Gallula, describing the Cold War spasms breaking apart and reforming the global map after World War II, wrote in 1965 what has become the textbook on the nature of insurgencies. Gallula was a man of his time, and most of his examples are superficially outdated, Communist rebels from Greece to North Africa to Southeast Asia asserting themselves with greater and lesser effectiveness throughout the Third World. We are not Communists, and this is not the Cold War, no matter how much our State Department might wish it were so. Nonetheless, Gallula provides a few key insights that broadly apply to our fight, and that we ought to keep in mind as we ask the question of what comes next.

To begin, the site of contestation in the 5th Generation war against our decrepit regime is not firstly the halls of power, certainly not the Capitol building, and not even really the formal political arena at all. Borrowing from Yarvin, I’d echo that Republican electoral victories are not sufficient for breaking the regime until the Republican candidate sees himself as an outsider prepared to tell the regime that it must submit. Still, contra Yarvin, winning political fights is good, where we can get them, and there are ways of engaging in local politics, especially, that may achieve certain desired effects. But ultimately, political victories are downstream of a more fundamental fight, which is winning the support of what Gullala coarsely calls “the population.”

…

That is, the normie must be given a cause. This cause must exist outside the political paradigm within which he has been accustomed to understanding these conflicts. Scott Alexander is not entirely wrong to propose that Republicans wage a “class conflict” against the strata of elite sense-makers who despise them. It is indeed a righteous cause, and an effective message. He is wrong however that Republicans, as such, ought to do this. No. This is not a partisan conflict against Democrats, though there is much overlap. This is a conflict of insurgents against a failing regime. That is the way it must be framed and its campaigns prosecuted.

I am cautiously optimistic that Americans understand this cause and the nature of their enemy instinctively. There is no denying the rot at the heart of American life, of Western life. There is no denying the ever-presence of the bugman and his sickly designs for us. The energy leaking out against this is everywhere in sight. However misdirected, however frenetic and decoupled from meaningful objectives, a spirit of disobedience obtains. They feel the quickening incursion of the public life into the private, no doubt accelerated by Zoom World and the bright eye of our screens watching and recording our every thought. Americans can feel caught in a straightjacket of preference falsification and coercive moral decrees, the stiltifying HRization of their inner universe. What a bleak and limited existence!

…

Finally, as Gullala observes, an insurgent movement in its infancy is necessarily small. It is necessarily weak. It needs time to build. It cannot on day one confront the regime on its turf and presume to use the regime’s own weapons against it. Again, this is not to advocate for quietism, but rather to recognize the limited usefulness of operating within the domains of social and political activity the regime already controls. You are not going to take back the universities or Hollywood or the news desk. Infiltrate these places and expose them for what they are, but to destroy them rather than to save them.

Before anything else, we must build a culture of our own. Any meaningful insurgency will be downstream from its capacity to imagine. Direct action politics will flail and follow, rather than lead, if it is not tethered to the kind of self-understanding that can only be achieved through art. The regime understands this, if only intuitively, and the ban waves and censorship are an attempt to tear apart the communities where this art can be cultivated and shared. But they are not yet omnipresent. They have not yet, as in Havel’s Czechoslovakia, managed to altogether “nihilize life.” There are cracks still to penetrate. There is, deep in the American soul, a resilience that is not yet extinguished. Build the communities, forge the relationships, online and off, where this resilience can manifest and triumph over the enemy and its machines.

#lomez #im1776 #read the whole thing

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slickedbackplatinum · 4 years

Text

Little League

Summary: Hadlee Rosier and Draco Malfoy had grown up together. Draco was Hadlee’s best friend, partner in crime, and most importantly her first crush. Things changed quickly when the two headed to Hogwarts together for their first year. Since then they had taken their own paths and Hadlee’s feelings for the blonde boy faded, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t still love her. They could never be together now that Draco had made his decision though.

Based on Little League by Conan Gray

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Do you remember days on our old block?

Messing with our neighbors, who called the cops

Coulda swore that you and me

Could get away with anything

Draco saw her walk into Potions and felt his heart skip a beat. He was used to this. Every time he caught a glimpse of her in the halls or walked through the common room and saw her sitting by the fire his heart would jump slightly, his pulse quickening. It had been like this since he could remember. Even when they were seven, flying their first brooms through their neighborhood together, he’d loved her. Those were some of his best memories. He and Hadlee had grown up down the street from each other and spent every second of their childhood together. She’d been his best friend.

Things had changed since their arrival at Hogwarts for their first year though. Draco had chosen the path laid out for him by his father. He was known as the Slytherin Prince, been named Prefect last year in their fifth year, and had now committed himself fully to the Dark Lord, the proof burned into his left forearm. Hadlee was a model student. She spent much of her free time reading Potions textbooks in the library or, of course, practicing Quidditch. All their practicing as kids had landed both Hadlee and Draco starting spots on the Slytherin team in their second year. Hadlee was the best Chaser on the team from the start and her moves were unmatched by anyone at Hogwarts. Even if they hadn’t spoken much since their first year, Hadlee knew she was going to miss her favorite Seeker dearly this season. Draco had decided he didn’t have time for Quidditch and, with little to no explanation, had quit at the start of term this year.

Their lack of contact hadn’t changed the fact that Draco couldn’t take his eyes off her when she was in the same room as him. She radiated a confidence she hadn’t had until a few years prior. And, although he wasn’t sure where it had come from, he thought it suited her very nicely. He’d been silently watching over her since they started school, but she’d never seemed to need him. Maybe that was part of their drifting apart: She didn’t need him.

We’d lay on the grass, all day talking

Cause we snuck out of class when no one was watching

I remember you and me

Yeah, I remember everything

Draco sat through Potions continuing to reminisce. He remembered a particularly great memory with Hadlee. It was during their first month of lessons in first year. A beautiful autumn day couldn’t go to waste sitting in a boring class like Care of Magical Creatures, so when the professor wasn’t looking Draco pulled Hadlee away and around a corner of the castle.

“What are you doing? We have class,” she’d said and crossed her arms when she saw the excitement in his face at not learning about unicorns anymore.

“Had, come on! It’s the most beautiful day out. Plus, you already know everything there is to learn about unicorns. Please!” he begged when she didn’t move.

After much effort on his part, Hadlee agreed to head down to the Quidditch pitch with their brooms instead of finish class. They spent the whole afternoon speeding across the pitch, throwing a ball into one of the goals while the other tried their best to guard it. And when they finally got tired, they laid together in the middle of the field pointing at pictures they found in the clouds. It seemed like only yesterday to Draco as he thought about it. A deep sadness crept across his chest as he looked up to see the back of her head. Did she remember that day too? Draco found himself wondering many things about the beautiful girl he used to know. Was her favorite color still forest green? Or did she hate it now because it was everywhere in the Slytherin common room? Did she still like the grass flavored Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans as much as she had when they were nine? Was she still a fan of the Tornados Quidditch team? But mostly, he just wanted to know if she thought about him as often as he thought about her.

But, lately I’ve been feeling strange

And everybody’s telling me to act my age

I never thought that everything I had would fade away

As the building pressure of the task the Dark Lord assigned became more difficult to handle, Draco found himself daydreaming more and more about going back to his days with Hadlee. Back when there was nothing more to worry about than what Mother was making for dinner that night or whether or not Hadlee would want to play another game of Wizard’s Chess. But as much as he wished he could go back and live in that time again, Draco couldn’t ignore the importance of what he’d been asked to do. Being a Death Eater was something he’d always known was in his future and Lucius had expected Voldemort to give Draco the most important mission once he’d been sworn in. Draco couldn’t disappoint his father. Or the Dark Lord. The consequences for not fulfilling his duty would be detrimental to his future. It was too important.

Draco supposed his obvious affiliation with Voldemort had been part of why Hadlee didn’t speak to him very often anymore. And his open discussions of the Dark Arts throughout their time at Hogwarts had turned her away from him earlier. While a part of him wished this wasn’t his destiny, because maybe then she’d still be his friend, he knew he’d never had a choice in the matter. He did what was expected of him, even when he knew it meant losing her. So, since his first day at Hogwarts he’d been as cruel and arrogant as any Malfoy man would be. He’d never faltered, never shown any sign that he was anything other than the true Prince of Slytherin.

When we were younger

We didn’t know how it would be

We were the dumb, the wild, the free

Little League

Hadlee spent her days focused on school and Quidditch. She was determined to learn as much as she could for her N.E.W.T.s this year. If she could do that and bring the Quidditch Cup back to Slytherin this year, she’d be on top of the world come June. So, her time was spent mostly in the library writing Potions essays or reading up on the most difficult spells for Transfiguration. By the time dinner rolled around, she was exhausted. Many nights she fell asleep in the chair by the fire with a book open on her lap. She’d never meant to let school take up all her time like this. Sometimes she wondered if she’d lost her fun side, seeing as all she did was study and play Quidditch nowadays. She was constantly reminding herself that it would all be worth it once school was over. She’d be playing professional Quidditch or working for the Ministry in no time. Everything would be better in a few short years, all it would take is hard work on her part.

Many of her friends worried about Hadlee being such a workaholic, but she reminded them that they too should care about the material they were learning right now. She wondered when she’d become so much like her mother. Wouldn’t things be simpler if they could all go back to how it used to be? She hadn’t spent much time thinking about her childhood, but with the workload of sixth year being drastically harder than fifth, she found herself dreaming of her childhood more and more often. Draco was always there with his broom, daring her to race him down the street or beating her once again at Wizard’s Chess. But, when she woke up she’d have to remember that the Draco she used to know didn’t exist anymore. He’d been absorbed into the Slytherin culture quickly after arriving at Hogwarts and Hadlee was forced to watch her best friend disappear into the shell of a Death Eater he was today. It made her quite sad, knowing he hadn’t chosen this for himself. Although they’d both been raised in pureblood families, their childhoods were drastically different. Draco was expected to follow in his father’s footsteps from the day he was born. Hadlee hadn’t been encouraged to pursue the Dark Arts. Her parents were indifferent to the matter, so they hadn’t minded their daughter being best friends with Draco Malfoy.

And when we were younger

We wore our hearts out on our sleeves

Why did we ever have to leave?

Little League

These frequent dreams of her childhood also brought memories of her former crush on Draco Malfoy. She remembered hearing him shout at her to hurry up from the driveway, but she always made sure she looked her best before going to greet him for their afternoon adventure for that day. She’d dress in cute clothes, not bothering to change if they were doing something that could get them dirty. Hadlee’s mother would scold her for coming home with large grass stains on her shirts, even when she could erase it with a flick of her wand. Her efforts to get Draco’s attention seldom worked though. He seemed more occupied by beating her at whatever they were doing, or laughing at his own jokes. But Hadlee couldn’t help but find it charming. Plus, she’d lost many broom races because she’d been distracted by his hair catching in the sunlight. And when he’d turn around to gloat, his full smile made her heart stop.

She wished she could make these dreams stop. As wonderful as it was for her to see her old best friend the way she used to, it was a painful reality check to walk into her class the next morning and see the broken man he’d become. She was sure he was a Death Eater by now. He’d looked more and more drained as the weeks passed, and she wondered what was hurting him so badly. Although she felt nothing more than pity and the occasional regret when it came to Draco, she couldn’t help but want his obvious pain to lessen. And maybe the small part of her that longed to be nine again also still loved him, but a quick reminder of his choices and she felt nothing for the man again.

Could I get a rewind?

Get another chance, take it back in time

Cause I don’t know what to do

With everything that I’m going through

Draco walked into the Slytherin common room after his nightly prefect rounds and noticed Hadlee had fallen asleep again in her usual chair by the fire. He smiled to himself as he admired her calmed sleeping face. There were faint lines on her nose from wrinkling it while reading all day. He immediately noticed the fire wasn’t burning as brightly as it normally did, so he decided to slip a blanket over her. He wasn’t sure how late she usually slept out in the common room, but he didn’t want the fire to die and leave her cold. He grabbed a woolen blanket from the nearby basket and laid it gently over her, but as it hit her legs she started to stir and opened her eyes slightly.

“Draco?”

He stood up quickly. “Sorry. I was just, uh, making sure you didn’t get cold. The fire is dying.”

She sat up and smiled genuinely at him. “Thank you. I was actually meaning to say something to you. Do you remember the name of our old neighbor? The one with the loud screeching owl.”

He knew exactly what she was talking about. Mrs. Boggs’ owl kept both of them up every night one summer because it didn’t like their new cat. He laughed, remembering both of them often being too tired for their usual shenanigans that year.

“Mrs. Boggs, I believe.”

“Oh, yes! My mother was wondering. She heard she was admitted to St.Mungo’s. Apparently she isn’t in good health and may not make it through the winter.”

This saddened Draco deeply. His family wasn’t very close with their neighbors, but Hadlee’s family had been kind to everyone on the street when they’d lived there. “I’ll have to owl my mother and let her know. Maybe she’ll want to go see her over holiday. She’s always been very kind to me.”

“She always baked cookies for us, remember? She’d leave them out on the sidewalk with little enchanted notes! They were the coolest,” Hadlee continued to smile at him. He felt the familiar pang in his chest at her words. She did remember their memories together.

“They were delicious. She stopped leaving them a few years after you moved. Guess she knew I wouldn’t be out much in the summers anymore.”

Now it was Hadlee’s turn to feel sad. Their neighborhood had always been filled with the sounds of their laughter. She guessed there wasn’t much of that anymore. And, in a sudden burst of longing for the man in front of her, she admitted, “I miss that place a lot. And you.”

“Me too. That first summer without you was strange.”

Not sure what to say next, the pair sat in silence in the Slytherin common room for what felt like an eternity to Draco. For the first time in a long time, he felt comfortable. Just her presence seemed to calm him. He wasn’t thinking about his dreaded assignment, or schoolwork, or anything but his favorite memories of her. Then he had an idea.

“Hey, would you want to go see Mrs. Boggs together over holiday? I can owl you and meet you at St. Mungo’s if you’d like.”

“I’d love to, Dray.”

His heart swelled at his forgotten nickname. No one had called him that but her, and he felt the urge to spill everything to her like he had when he was a kid. “First week work for you? I’ll be free all of holiday, so whenever works best for you.”

“That sounds perfect.”

And where did all my friends go?

Standing on our street but nobody’s home

Swore we’d never move away

But now I’m going ninety-five on the interstate

Their plans for holiday kept Draco going through the last few weeks of Fall term. He’d hoped their conversation had opened the possibility of friendship again, but knew better when she didn’t make eye contact with him at breakfast or in class the next day. This didn’t bother him much and considering his reputation, he knew he should just be happy with the single conversation. By the time holiday rolled around, they hadn’t discussed their plans again, but Draco figured he’d just send her an owl like they’d planned.

He met his mother at the platform with a worn smile. He knew holiday wouldn’t be filled with the typical gifts and family laughter. His father would want to know how the assignment was coming along, and, if he was really unlucky, Voldemort would want to meet with him to discuss the finalities. He and his mother apparated from the station to the street in front of their house once he’d collected all his things off the train. Draco took a minute when they arrived to admire the long scuff on the road from Hadlee’s broom when she took a particularly nasty fall when they were eight. He smiled and went inside to write her letter.

He invited her to St. Mungo’s the following Wednesday and sent the owl off, hoping it would know where to find her. Dinner that night was as dreadful as he’d expected. His father had wanted to know every detail of the plan and exactly what Draco had done with the Vanishing Cabinet in Hogwarts and if there was any sign of suspicion from his fellow students, especially Harry Potter. He assured his father for what felt like the hundredth time that everything was under control and headed up to his room to check for a reply from Hadlee. He found his owl holding a new piece of perfectly folded parchment. She’d replied. Draco, immediately excited at the prospect of seeing Hadlee so soon, unfolded the letter and his smile widened.

His excitement became difficult to contain as Wednesday approached far too slowly for his liking. He arrived at St. Mungo’s early and waited at the front for Hadlee. Five minutes past two and he wondered if his watch was just fast. Ten past two and he was sure she was just running late. And, at quarter after, he was ready to just head up by himself when the front doors swung open. There was Hadlee, looking very tired, but smiling at Draco.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. Dad came back late from work and had promised to apparate me here,” she said, still breathing deeply from her run.

“Well, I’m glad you made it. Mother says she’s doing loads better than she was when she was admitted. Let’s go,” Draco said, and offered Hadlee his arm. She took it with no hesitation and Draco smiled.

They walked down the hall to Mrs. Bogg’s room and were greeted with joyous shouts from their aging neighbor. “What a lovely surprise! I’m sorry to say I don’t have cookies for the two of you,” Mrs .Boggs said when they sat down.

“That’s fine, Mrs. Boggs. We should have been the ones bringing you cookies! I think we owe you about a thousand,” Hadlee joked. Draco quickly pulled out his wand and conjured a plate of delicious smelling chocolate chip cookies with a smooth flick of his wand. “Draco! How do you know how to do that?” Hadlee said, impressed with his advanced magic.

“Mother taught me last week, said it would probably come in handy since the Healers won’t let many guests bring in food,” he replied, giving Hadlee a cookie and setting the rest next to Mrs. Boggs.

“You two haven’t changed a bit! I hoped you were still friends,” Mrs. Boggs said delightfully.

“Well we-,” Draco started.

“Yes, isn’t it wonderful? Many people don’t get to say they’ve had the same best friend their whole life,” Hadlee interrupted. Draco smiled at her white lie, wishing it was true.

They spent the next hour laughing at Mrs. Boggs reminders of their childhood antics in the neighborhood. They really had been quite crazy. Things were going well until Mrs. Boggs asked, “So, are you two a couple? You’ve always been awfully cute together.”

Hadlee felt her face go red, and sadness filled Draco’s face a little too quickly, but Hadlee tried to play it off and replied with a laugh, “No, ma’am. Draco and I have never been together like that, just friends. But I don’t think he knew I had a massive crush on him when we were younger!”

“Wait, what?” Draco was shocked at her confession.

“Oh my goodness, yes. I’m pretty sure I was in love with you for like three years and you had no idea. Of course, we were only kids.”

“Boys are so oblivious. And that doesn’t change as they get older either,” Mrs. Boggs said to Hadlee.

“Apparently girls are too,” mumbled Draco under his breath as his heart jumped again when Hadlee’s hand brushed against his.

“Well, it’s been lovely Mrs. Boggs, but I have to get back to my father. Thank you for all the cookies,” Hadlee said as she stood up to hug Mrs. Boggs.

“I’ll walk you out,” Draco said and followed. “Please let me know if there’s anything you need from my family Mrs. Boggs.”

He was headed out the door to follow Hadlee when Mrs. Boggs whispered, “Marry her, Draco.”

He looked out at the hall to Hadlee then smiled back and Mrs. Boggs. “I’ll try my hardest,” then Draco left with a wave.

Cause lately I’ve been feeling strange

And everybody’s telling me to act my age

I never thought that everything I had would fade away

“That was fun, Dray. Thanks for thinking of it,” Hadlee said as they left St. Mungo’s.

“I had a great time too. You know, I miss you Had,” he replied, throwing his nickname for her into the conversation as well.

She smiled at the forgotten nickname, and the nine year old in her swelled agian. “I miss you too. I just wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

“Who says it does?”

“You did when you chose being Slytherin Prince over me. But it’s in the past now, Draco. We can’t change it.”

His heart sank at her words. He’d never questioned his father’s path for him, but in this moment he wished he could scrub the ink on his arm off and kiss the girl in front of him.

“But, what if we can.”

“Judging by the way you looked at your arm just now, we can’t. No matter how much I may want to.”

With that, Hadlee turned around, walked quickly to her father and apparated away.

When we were younger

We didn’t know how it would be

We were the dumb, the wild, the free

Little League

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harryswanderlust · 5 years

Text

Locker Room

warnings: smut!! & cursing

requested: nope

I hope you guy enjoy 4k words of gym! shawn!!

A sigh escapes her lips as she fills the water cooler for the third time in the past hour, secretly hoping she won't have to fill it more than the eight times she usually does during her shift. She prefers it over having to pick up the dirty, sweaty towels off the gym floor to throw into the wash, but neither thing is glamorous in her opinion. Her job isn't too bad, she really doesn't have to do much, and Y/n really needs the money. It was either here or the coffee shop on the corner, and she doesn't know a thing about making coffee.

She's been working here for about two weeks, and the worst thing she's had to do is help all the clueless people understand the terms of their membership. She'd rather bang her head against a wall, but most days are relaxing for her when she doesn't have to deal with that. She mostly gets to hide in the background completely unnoticed since everyone seems to know what they're doing and goes about their business like usual.

She gets a nice view sometimes, and one of these days she knows she's going to get caught staring at the cute guys that walk in. She can't help herself, once they take their shirts off she gets a front row seat to their toned abs and back muscles and how could she look away from that? No one really pays much attention to her except to ask for a towel or for her to refill their water bottles though. Every day is basically the same routine, but today's shift was going to be a little different for her.

She makes her way back to the front desk, resting her chin on her fist as she reopens her book to continue reading it. The day has been slow so far, not a lot of people coming in, and it's relatively quiet except for the clinking of weights. She's been waiting, watching the tiny hand tick by on the clock, for her lunch break. While her job may not hard, it's certainly not invigorating and sadly her lunch break is the most exciting part of her day.

When she hears the bell on the door ring, she looks up from her book, letting it close on the counter as she gets ready to give whoever's come in the usual "Hi, welcome to Fusion Gym," greeting, but the words manage to get caught in her throat.

She's unable to do anything but blink, taking in the sight of the stranger that just walked in. She thinks she's dreaming at first as her eyes roam his entire his body, noting the heading that's pushing back chocolate brown curls and shorts that are exposing a pair of thighs that she swears are sinful. Sure she's seen some well fit, attractive looking young guys come in. She works in a gym for goodness sake, but him? He puts all of them to shame.

She jumps out of her chair, smoothing out her shirt and fixing her name tag. She rakes her fingers through hair, trying to make herself look nice or at the very least presentable. She never put much effort into how she looked for her job since she only had to interact with a handful of people and her boss didn't care. But today has made her want to try a bit harder.

He makes his way over to her and is about to say something when Jeremy, the gym's best personal trainer, comes up to him.

"Hey, Shawn. It's been a while since I've seen you, where've you been?" He asks, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him into a type of bro hug. He gives a couple pats on the back before releasing him, one hand still on his shoulder.

Shawn.

She kind of liked that name.

The kind of name she'd like to scream.

"Been busy writing that album and stuff. You know how it is," he tells him, shrugging as he pulls his gym bag off his shoulder. She watches as his biceps flexes, and she restrains herself from biting her lip. A few tattoos on his arm catch her attention, and if she didn't have a thing for them before then she sure did now.

Also, writing an album? Did that make him a singer? She's never heard of any singers named Shawn, but being away at college has really managed to take her out of the loop.

"Yeah, I no worries man. You want to make it a leg day?" Jeremy asks him, and Shawn nods in agreement. Y/n doesn't catch the words that are passed between them next because she's too busy daydreaming about the tall, amber eyed boy in front of her with the a smile like sunshine. Thoughts swirling through her mind about how someone so perfect could exist. Which she realizes is impossible because no one is truly perfect, but damn did he sure come close.

It makes her wish she'd starting working at the gym sooner.

She's fully aware that there's work she needs to do, and standing here gawking at people isn't going to help get it done. It's probably time for her to wipe down equipment or clean one of the bathrooms, but that all seems so insignificant to her right now.

"Hello? Excuse me, miss?"

Gasping, she's pulled back to reality. She blinks a few times, silently cursing at herself for appearing like a fool in front of him. He's standing right in front of her, patiently waiting for her to say something.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Hi, can I help you with something today?"

Like maybe taking off your shirt?

"Yeah, could I get a towel please?"

She nods frantically, like somehow she can no longer behave like a normal human being. She walks back to the closet where they keep the towels and has to stand on her tiptoes to get the only available ones on the top shelf.

"Sorry about that," she says sheepishly when she's back behind the front desk, "Here you go."

She hands him the neatly folded towel, their hands touching when he grabs it from her. A slight chill runs through her, and she has to close her eyes for a minute to calm herself. She doesn't know why she's getting so worked up over a guy. An inconceivably hot guy, but still a guy.

"I appreciate it," he thanks her, his face lighting up with a smile and Y/n's knees go weak at the sight. "I've never seen you here before. I'm Shawn."

He offers her his hand to shake and she takes it, her thumb tracing over the bird that is inked onto it. She ponders over it, considering what it might mean before realizing she hasn't said anything back.

"I..I'm new," she sputters, shaking his hand way too eagerly. He lets out a small laugh, one she'd find endearing if it wasn't caused by the dumb mistake she just made. "I mean, I'm Y/n. Obviously new isn't my name. That would be...that would be stupid...obviously..."

Her focus shifts to anywhere but his own, unable to handle how embarrassing she's being right now. She's word vomiting all over herself, and she'd say that it's the reason no one's ever asked her out. She can hardly say anything remotely intelligible around good looking people so it's no wonder why she can't keep anyone around.

"Cute name for an even cuter girl," he says, winking at her, and her heart almost stops beating.

Was that–did he just compliment her? She had to have imagined that right?

"Guess I'll be seeing you around more often," he waves and turns over his shoulder to join Jeremy in the workout room.

She mutters a "guess so" under her breath and jumps giddily where she stands when he's no longer facing her. She wipes her clammy palms against her jeans, trying to get of all the sweat and sits back down in her chair. Opening her book, she tries to get back into it and stop herself from watching Shawn. But it doesn't work once the weights are picked up and the shirt comes off, his entire physique on full display for her.

He could literally choke her with those thighs if he wanted.

After a while, she's still trained on him. Sweat glistens against his chest and forehead, his eyebrows drawn together as he concentrates. For Y/n, this is more entertaining than anything she could see at the movies or on tv. She'd pay to see this everyday, even if the boy never developed any interest in her.

She didn't know it yet, but her luck was about to start changing for her.

･ﾟ✧･ﾟ ✧ ･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ✧

The low hum of music from the speakers above flows through the gym, a yawn seeping past her lips as she rests her chin further against her fist. She blinks several times, tiredness taking over her body. She's been fighting off sleep for the past three or four hours, trying to stay awake for the night shift she's been stuck on. It was the only time she was available to work this week, having to have mornings and afternoons free for her college midterms. And if she wasn't already occupied enough with all that, it sure didn't help that Shawn has been on her mind the entire time.

It would have been wise to take the whole week, but her desire to see him again was greater than her need to pass her tests. He's started coming in every day since they met, or on nights like tonight if that's when Y/n's working. She didn't know what to think of it really, or of herself for that matter. It wasn't like he was anyone special, if you take away that fact that he's a talented artist and is a walking dream, yet she's developed a crush on him in such a short amount of time. She even took her hair out of a ponytail for him, letting it fall loosely around her face and over her shoulders. She would've brushed it, but she didn't want it to seem like she was trying too hard.

Not that it mattered because Shawn definitely noticed her. He noticed her from the moment he laid eyes on her, even if she was about to fall out of her chair. It was adorable, and what's more adorable is the amount of times he's caught her staring at him while he's in the middle of working out. He'd be lying if he said he didn't love the way he's able to put on a show for her. It's an immediate confidence booster for him when she gets flustered, turning back to the towels she folding or book she's only half reading. And when she's busy and needed elsewhere, he's watching her too.

Slowly, they've both been noticing that the only attention they want is each other's. There have been plenty of girls in the gym that have taken their shot at flirting with Shawn–there being one in particular that Y/n remembers named Olivia. She works at the gym alongside her, and she had to watch the pathetic scene unfold in front of her while refraining herself from killing the girl. Everything from shoulder touching, hair twirling, and all the way to fake laughing. She thought she was going to be sick, but luckily Shawn wasn't paying any mind to her. He's used to the affection, but now he only wants Y/n's.

She releases a grunt when her head slips from her hand, hitting her forehead on the counter. Her fingers tend to the pain, rubbing tenderly to help ease it before she decides to clean the equipment in order to keep herself from nearly falling asleep again. If there's anything she's learned from this night, it's that four cups of coffee fails to do the trick.

Right now there's two things she'd love: either a nap or to be underneath Shawn while he's doing push ups in the workout room with Jeremy...or for other reasons. The way his muscles are flexing is making her hot, and the a/c in this place is always cranked up on full blast.

"How many is that?" Shawn asks, grunting as he pushes himself up from the mat. A bead of sweat slides down the side of his head, his damp curls sticking to his neck.

"That's thirty," Jeremy answers, smacking on a piece of gum. His gaze wanders the room, stopping when he sees Y/n wiping down a weight bench. "Hey, Y/n. I'm going to go fill up my water. Make sure he doesn't stop while I'm gone, would ya?"

He doesn't wait for a response, already making his way towards the water cooler. She glances at Shawn who relaxes before he stands up. The air is thick around them as he moves to stand in front of her, bringing his hand up to brush a piece of hair behind her ear. Skin tingles where he touches her, feeling electric as it runs down her spine.

She'd love for him to touch her all over.

She'd love to get to touch him all over. And his shirt's already off, making him half naked...

"You're not really going to make me do any more are you? I think I deserve a break don't you?" He asks, quirking a brow and cocking his head.

She draws in a weary breath, unsure of what to say as she grabs his hand and pulls it away from where it hovers above her cheek. She holds onto it, looking at where their hands meet and letting a second pass before she snaps herself out of whatever trance she's in.

"I...I guess?" She says questioningly.

He shakes his head. "You know what? What if you helped me instead?"

Her brows knit together, confusion gracing her features. "What do you mean?"

There's no one around except for the two of them and one or two other employees, most people having called it a night ages ago. The room is calm and quiet with it only being the two of you. That's why Shawn doesn't have a problem pulling her down gently to the mat, climbing above her and positioning himself to do more push-ups. Fear ignites behind her eyes as her back presses against it, their chests all but touching. He grasps her chin, getting her to look at him.

"For every push-up I do right I'll kiss you," he explains, and he has no idea where any of this came from but he's glad it did. He has wanted to ask her out over the past week. He's wanted to ask her out from the minute he saw her behind the front desk, but he's chickened out every time he's considered going for it.

"Wait what?"

She's hoping Jeremy doesn't come back anytime soon, not finding this situation to be one she'd enjoy explaining her way out of.

"Think of it as a reward," he persuades her, pushing himself down so his lips ghost right over her ear, "For both of us."

His locks dangle over his lashes, tickling along the side of her neck. She resists the urge twirl a curl of it around her finger. She's wondered what it feels like. Probably

"But how will I know if you do one right?" She whispers.

"I guess that's up to me to decide," he breathes, already bending down to start. His warm breath fans across her face, his nose lightly brushing hers. Her body is suddenly begging for him to kiss her, anticipating him pressing his warm lips to hers. Her head swirls and eyes flutter shut.

He's about to steal one from her. Claim the reward that's well earned for both of them, but she puts a stop to it.

"You know, I like your songs," she blurts out, dissipating the moment. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, angry that she just ruined things as the heat was turning up. Her words come out so rushed she's hoping he didn't understand a thing she said–she's not even sure she understood what she said.

"What?"

"I like your songs," she repeats, more clearly this time. "I looked you up on Spotify the other night and I think your songs are...are cool."

'I looked you up on Spotify?' 'I think your songs are cool?'. Seriously? She listened to all three of his albums and that's what she has to say about it? That's the best she could come up with? It's better than telling him she spent over two hours listening to his music instead of studying for her classes, but still.

"Oh, thanks," he says, and there he goes again with that lovable laugh that has no business making her like him so much. "Do you have a favorite?"

She shrugs, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "I guess I really enjoyed that one song...Nervous I think it was...?"

A deep shade of crimson blossoms over Shawn's cheeks, and he coughs before shaking it off. His embarrassment begins to falter, and she notices a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Is it because I make you nervous, princess?"

She freezes, her pulse racing.

Princess?

That was new. She's never been called that before, but she liked hearing it come from that mouth of his. Now she wants to know what else it can do. Kiss her lips? Or maybe the ones a little further south?

She's so lost in her mind that she's totally surprised when he finally decides to go for it. Next thing she knows his lips are on hers, moving gently. It's fervent, it's insiste. Each one deeper than the last every time he pulls away and comes back. He relaxes, his body melting into hers as she winds her arms around him. They're flush against each other now with no room to consider the possibility of someone walking in on them now.

One hand tangles in her hair, the other pinches her hip causing her to squirm and her mouth to part. Her heart beats faster and faster, body spinning as she savors the saccharin taste of honey. They're making out for the entire world to see–they're lying in front of a wall of windows–but that's the last thing either of them care about. The world has fallen around them, and the only thing left are the helpless moans they're pulling out of each other.

She tugs teasingly at his bottom lip, hissing when he grinds his hips against her own. A hand slips under her shirt, splaying over her stomach, but before he can move it any further something halts his actions.

A bottle drops to the floor, the sound of it ringing through the room alongside a string of curses. Shawn swiftly rolls off of her, the two of them sitting up as Jeremy approaches. Realizing their messy appearance, he peers unsurely at them.

He clears his throat. "Ahem, I think we should call it a night," he says, fixated on the way they're so close to one another, "It's getting late, yeah?"

Shawn nods, already halfway stood up. "Yeah, I'm gonna hit the showers."

They exchange goodbyes while Y/n drowns in a sea disbelief. Never in a million years would she have pictured herself making out with a pop star on a grime infested floor. Granted she didn't initiate it, but she made no effort to stop the situation either.

Jeremy's long gone and she chooses to follow Shawn's lead by standing up as well, but when she does she trips. He's quick to catch her as she stumbles into his chest, and he gestures towards the lockers rooms. There's a split second of misunderstanding before she picks up that he wants her to join him, which sends her into a minor panic.

Is he really going to try and hook up with her in a locker room?

Is she really finding herself okay with that?

Could he at least buy her dinner first?

Within no time they're in there and he's all over her again. Dropping his bag and towel, gripping her waist and attaching himself to her neck once more. It's no surprise he's strong, and it's no surprise that a wave of excitement rushes through her when he roughly pushes her back into the side of the lockers. He skims the hem of her shirt, working to pull it off of her.

Her pants are next, and then his own shorts. She's desperate for him when she feels his hard on poking the side of her thigh, mere inches away from leaning into the place she wants him most. Whines fill the air as they leave red and purple marks along skin. Shawn dips down, his mouth roaming her chest while his arm snakes around to work on the clasp of her bra.

He groans, taking in the beautiful sight of her. "I like this view," he says, "I could get used to this."

She can't believe how she's gotten here. Naked and sandwiched between Shawn and the cold metal of a row of lockers. She can't believe it when his mouth leaves her collarbone and attacks her nipple, his fingers fumbling around with the other. She can't believe the way she's shuddering when he carefully drops down to his knees. He leaves sloppy kisses on her on his way down, making her want to crumble.

There's a tingling feeling where she's aching for him when he levels with her center. She's wet. Beyond wet, and he's barely done anything to her yet. He's positioned himself between her thighs, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into them, and she wants to come undone at the sight of it alone.

Her body lurches forward when his nose nudges her clit. She becomes a whimpering mess when his fingers dance along her thighs and make their way up to her heat. They slide through her wet folds, circling her entrance before slipping one in. His tongue is on her next, eliciting a scream from her as it swirls her clit.

Groans leave him as he sucks on her bundle of nerves, causing vibrations that make her tremble. Her legs shake, and she's already beginning to drip all over his chin.

"Fuck," she whines, loving the way he's stretching her more and more with each pump.

He pulls away, muttering a "you taste so fucking good," beneath his breath, eyes glossed over with lust, before burying himself in her again. He's relentless, pushing deep inside her all the way to his knuckles and picking up his pace to bring her closer and closer to the edge. Her back arches into him, and she moans at the way he's touching every place inside her. Licking, lapping, sucking–every movement, everything more magical than the last.

He continues to mercilessly eat her out, floating from how her pussy tastes. Soft cries can be heard as she's on the brink of release. She's in awe at how goddamn amazing he is at this. There's no way he hasn't done this before, but she doesn't care because she didn't know someone could make her feel this good. Her head leans back on the lockers, her eyes hooded as she watches herself spill all over his chin.

"Such a pretty princess when you're about to cum for me," he mumbles, moving faster to finish her off. And the way he says 'for him' does things to her. She's not just cumming, she's coming for him. And he's making her.

Her hands slam to the lockers to keep her steady.

"Right there. Please right there," she begs as he brings her to her hilt. Her orgasm starts to wash over her, unraveling right in front of him. He marvels in it, refusing to slow down or let up as she succumbs to pure bliss.

He licks every drop of her, cleaning her up as she writhes. He's never been so satisfied from making a girl cum with only his mouth. He's never been more confident in his abilities, and he'll be the first to admit he wants to do it again. He plants one last kiss to her clit, listening to the way she giggles as he stands back up.

He presses another one to her lips to allow for her to taste her sweet self on him. "How was that?"

"You," she breathes, "were amazing."

Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated!! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed! :) xx

#shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes preference

459 notes · View notes

urfavepisces · 6 years

Text

it was all fake right?/peter kavinsky one shot pt. II

a/n: i honestly can’t believe all of the love you’ve all shown me on ‘this is fake right?’! thank you so much for reading it and i hope this next part is equally entertaining. also the line breaks and italicized words indicate that it happened in the past. once again i hope you all enjoy this one (:

part I (this is fake right?)

word count: 2,540 (yikes, sorry i got carried away)

warnings: a few cuss words lmao

“The limit does not exist if-if the value of x is zero?” You turned the note card around to reveal if you had gotten it right and seeing the answer made you shout out, “YES!” Immediately making the other kids look up at you glaring in your direction.

You hunched back into your seat, “My bad.” You offered a sheepish smile but were met with a few of them rolling their eyes at you and went back to their own text books and laptops.

You’d been studying nonstop for your Calculus midterm coming up in a couple of weeks and you needed an A especially if you were going to pass the class. Currently, you barely had a B and you were freaking out. The universities you were going to be applying to in a year and a half needed to see that you took school serious and your future depended on it.

Usually you were on top of your shit. When projects were assigned you usually planned them out the next day and had them done at least a week before they were due. Tests were a toss up to be honest, when it came to English and History either you knew it or you didn’t. So studying for those two subjects rarely happened. However, when it came to Calculus and Spanish you were always making sure you got the material down before a quiz, midterm and especially a final.

But ever since you and Peter decided to start this fake relationship your priorities had shuffled and school became second when it came to him. You two were halfway through the second month of it and you were falling behind on your classes that you knew you needed to put in extra effort to comprehend the material.

Mrs. McBride and Mr. Barrios were disappointed in your lack of care for their class. You hung your head in shame when they confronted you on your poor performance in their class, they even said they’d wanted to contact your Dad but you let them know that you would definitely be trying a lot harder from now on.

He had more on his plate than he could handle at times and he didn’t need to worry about how you were doing in school. You couldn’t stand to disappointed the sweet man.

You shook your head and focused back on the flash cards before you. You went through them three more times before you switched over to finishing an assignment for Spanish that was due the next day. As you started to write your name on top of the worksheet, your name was being yelled.

Your had snapped up almost causing you whiplash before your vision settled on your best friend, Angelina Thompson. You narrowed your eyes and gave her the look you always did when she was doing too much but of course she couldn’t take a hint and waltzed up to the table you were sitting at and sat herself right on top of it.

“Girl, where have you been?” I texted your ass like five times and you know I don’t do that for just anybody.” She raised her eyebrows at you and flicked her locs over her shoulder.

You could feel the other students’ eyes on you again and this time they looked like they were going to cuss you out. Angie noticed their stares, “Excuse me. Mind your business.” She waved them away with her hand.

Before one of them could be bold enough to say anything you hurriedly gathered your things and stuffed them into your back pack before grabbing onto her arm and dragging you both outside of the school library.

“You know you do too much sometimes. We’re literally in a library, you can’t just be loud like that.” You looked at her pointedly.

She shrugged, “Yea well I wouldn’t have to if Peter ‘puppy dog eyes’ Kavinsky wasn’t talking my ear off, asking where you were.” She jabbed her finger into your shoulder making you slap her hand away.

You scratched your scalp before walking down the hallway, “Sorry I had to study. I’m not doing well in some of my classes and I’m not trying to have my Dad find out.”

She nodded understanding where you were coming from, “Ok well it still doesn’t explain why your boyfriend is bugging me about it. Y’all don’t text each other or talk?”

You didn’t respond immediately because you didn't know how to word your explanation. Ever since the movie night, you had started to actually fall for Peter and you couldn’t help but do it. Peter Kavinsky was a sweet person who constantly looked after you and all the little things he did were starting to get to you.

The Monday after the movie night, you two were the talk of the school more than ever before.

During third period, you got a hall pass and went to the bathroom. As you flushed and pulled your pants up, the door opened and your name was being mentioned.

“So looks like Peter is over you, him and Y/N look like they’re getting serious.” A voice you made out to be Jackie Lawson which meant the only other person she could be talking to was Jessica Meyers, Peter’s ex girlfriend.

You heard Jess scoff, “Please we both know that whatever they have is nothing compared to my and Peter’s relationship. You know we still text.”

If it was actually plausible that your heart could stop beating, you’re sure that that’s what it just did. Anytime you thought that maybe, just maybe this thing between Peter and you was morphing into something real you were thrust back into reality.

You went closer to the door of the stall you were currently in. You thanked the heavens that you were in the last one so they couldn't tell someone else was in the bathroom with them.

“I’m just saying Jess, the way he looks at her is special. Plus I heard he’s taking her on the annual ski trip and we all know what happens on the ski trip.” You could hear Jess sigh loudly before saying, “Yea I guess we’ll just see.”

They left a few minutes after that and you finally felt like you could breathe. Even though you’d agreed to the trip when you two came up with the terms of the contract, now you weren’t so sure anymore that you could go through with it.

The very next day, you went along with the usual routine you two had. You sat with him at lunch and tried to engage with his friends who were slowly becoming your friends as well but you were mentally checked out. Your mind was a chaotic mess going through all the moments you and Peter shared and whether they were real or just part of the pact you two took.

Peter had noticed how quiet you were and the hand he had on your thigh, lightly squeezed the smooth skin. You blinked a few times before turning your head towards him.

“You good?” His pretty brown eyes scanned over your features before settling on your eyes gauging them for how you were feeling.

You simply nodded and brought your hand to your ear, lightly squeezing the lobe. It was a tall tale sign that you were lying and he figured it out three weeks into the fake relationship.

“Yea Peter. Actually, Angie wanted me to meet her before lunch ended.” You grabbed onto your back pack and stood up, “So I’m going to head out.”

Peter stared up at you and desperately wanted to say something about you lying to him but he decided against it and let you go reluctantly.

“Sure, we’re still hanging out after school right?” He smiled hopefully.

You nodded, “Yea sure, maybe. I don’t know actually because of homework and stuff but I’ll let you know.” You gave him a half-assed smile and scurried out of the cafeteria, if you had turned around you would’ve seen the confused and hurt look on Peter Kavinsky’s pretty face.

After school that day you avoided Peter and ended up walking home from school. You were lucky that your Dad had picked your sister up early from school for an orthodontist appointment so you didn’t have to deal with that awkward ordeal.

When you walked home your phone had been buzzing nonstop and you knew it was Peter. Your heart sank feeling bad for ignoring him but you had no choice you had to protect yourself. Your feelings were starting to become too much and you weren’t ready to deal with them or Peter.

Angie’s face remained emotionless and you were freaking out about how she was going to react. You just wanted to her say something.

You nudged her arm, “Angie I can’t take this, I need your help.” You cried.

She blinked a couple of times coming out of her stupor, “Girl I can’t believe y’all agreed to a fake relationship only for y’all to actually develop feelings.” Angie couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of her best friend’s situation.

“I didn’t mean to-wait you said both of us caught feelings. How?” You held on tightly to your black binder.

She rolled her eyes, “How do you not see the way homeboy looks at you. Lowkey makes me gag sometimes but I love you so I think it’s kind of cute. For real Y/N think about it. Think of the things he’s done and does for you just to make life easier on you plus I don’t think anyone could listen to your little sister sing for more than five minutes but he did it with no hesitation.”

All you could do was shrug. You really had no idea and it didn't matter that she told you all these things because a huge part of you thought that there was absolutely no way Peter Kavinsky liked you like that. Especially after what you’d heard in the bathroom a couple days ago. This was merely business and you needed to get your shit together if you were going to fulfill your side of the deal.

“Come on girl, Peter doesn’t like me. It’s all fake.” You started to walk towards your locker with her in tow.

She swung her arm around your shoulders, “Yea okay.” Angie gave you her infamous side eye and left it at that.

“Y/N!” You two turned at the sound of your name being called and your crush the one that had also gotten that forsaken letter came into view.

Danny Luna was also one of the popular guys in school but Peter was a couple notches above him.

You looked to your best friend for help but she just smirked and left you two by yourselves. You narrowed your eyes at her retreating form before turning back towards your locker.

“Hey Danny.” You settled on rearranging your textbooks not trying to really acknowledge him.

He leaned against your locker looking at you expectantly before speaking, “So you and Peter Kavinsky?”

You nodded, praying that that would be enough of an explanation.

He pulled on one of his back pack straps and scratched the back of his neck, “I’m just surprised because that letter you wrote it-.” The sound of your locker slamming shut cut him off, “Sorry Danny, I just don’t feel that way anymore plus you and my sister had a thing.” He shook his head, “No yea of course. It’s just I was thinking that we could talk about it.”

Before you could respond, you caught sight of Peter heading down the hall towards you two. “I-uh gotta go Danny.” You walked away, your feet hurriedly getting you away from the uneasy situation.

As you rounded the corner, you heard his voice, “Whoa, whoa, whoa Y/N hold on.”

You’d miss the sleepy drawl of his voice even though it’d only been a day since you two actually talked. You looked up at him but decided to fix your gaze somewhere else, Peter always had a way of making you melt just by him simply looking at you.

“What’s going on? We were supposed to hang out yesterday and you bailed, Never even texted me back or answered my calls. You’ve been avoiding me and now I see you talking to Danny Luna.” He was irritated, you could tell just by how fast he was speaking.

While he’s talking, all you could really do was focus on the campaign poster behind him.

Hmm…you didn’t know Melanie Gibson was running for junior class president, good for her. Your eyes read over her campaign promises and agreed with most of them.

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” You closed and opened your eyes and it took a couple seconds before your vision focused on Peter.

You hadn’t and you didn’t even try.

You coughed, covering your mouth with the inside of your elbow and looked to him while you pulled on your earlobe, “Mhmm.”

He reeled back as if he had been slapped, “Really?” Peter narrowed his eyes at you and the look you could only make out was that he was hurt.

Peter crossed his arms and tilted his head towards you, “You’re lying to me. I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other.” He motioned the space between you two.

The way his mouth curved through those words made you do double take at Peter. You raised an eyebrow and tilted your chin up, “No I’m not. How would you even know I was lying?”

Peter couldn’t take your stubbornness anymore, he had reached his limit, “How can I not know?! Anytime you grab your ear, you’re lying, I’ve seen you do it so much Y/N. Just tell me what’s really going on with you? And look the ski trip is coming up and we need to be on good terms before that so you-“ You shaking your had made him stop talking.

“Honestly Peter it’s time we just called it yea? This whole fake relationship has gone on for a lot longer than we both thought it would. You can take Jess on the ski trip and we can finally end it.” The words you’d spoken surprised both you and Peter for the same reason but neither you still didn’t know what the other was thinking.

With your head hanging low, you had the perfect view to see Peter’s sneakers take two steps towards you. “I want you to come on the ski trip with me Y/N.” With every inch he stepped in your direction, your nerves started to bubble up and you didn’t know how to deal with these feelings.

The only way you knew how to was your greatest defense mechanism which was to deflect and hurt the only person who had made you truly happy in these past few weeks. “Peter, this was all fake right? So let’s not make a big deal of it. I want you have to fun with Jess.” And before he could even utter a word, you hastily walked away from him.

It was all fake right? So why did the tears rolling down your cheeks make you feel otherwise?

#peter kavinsky #noah centineo #peter kavinsky imagine #noah centineo imagine #ahh i hope y'all like this one as well!

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castellankurze · 6 years

Text

Warhammer 40,000: The Ophidian Knight

Holy crap. Two pieces of 40k writing in under a month; I’m on fire. Much like On the Shoulders of Giants this is an idea I’ve sat on for a long, long time and could never quite get it to come together until recently, but it’s simple enough in form: you know what we don’t see very much of in 40k? Heel-face turns.

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I am Alpharius.

I wear a thousand faces. I live a hundred lives. I am male. I am female. I am the one beside you. I am the one across the way. Ten thousand years have I fought my long war against the corrupt and rotting Imperium. I have been a force of thousands, I have been a squad of five, and when I strike, I strike with the force of a legion. Worlds beneath my touch have seen their fate altered radically as the wheel of the cosmos spins onward, turning, turning.

Reality is mutable. Truth, as they say, is amoral. Time is but a flat circle. In the end, all things return to that most singular of statements:

I am Alpharius.

One amongst many. Many, made one. I am legion.

Fate reaches out. The wheel spins.

I am summoned, as one of five, to stand in readiness. A mission awaits. A crucial breaking point in the grand webs of fate. We, five bodies of one will, are called upon to serve the greater part of ourselves that is our warband. A singular opportunity, delivered unto us by many years of hard labor and the peculiarity of chance.

A Deathwatch kill-team - captured, interrogated, executed. One of them, a member of the Black Templars chapter. We are thus given a perfect window to rid ourselves of a particularly troublesome foe. Within the greater area of the segmentum exists a splinter Crusade of that chapter of space marines. A particularly large one: seven fighting companies strong - six now, thanks to recent losses. In their wandering they have turned doomed last stands into narrow victories, secured worlds that would otherwise have been lost, and unbeknownst to them, they have stymied many of our efforts to undercut the strength of the Imperium in the local group.

For years the warband has worked in secret to prepare a trap for the Templars, seeding tales of a heretic foe and staging attacks to set the waters a-churn with fear and rumor of an unknown, unglimpsed threat. The trap was set, the bait dangled. What we had lacked was the proper lure. Until now.

The kill-team had been en route to a watch fortress when they were intercepted. The Inquisition knows naught of their fate. To pass up this chance would be more than indolence - it would be vile sloth.

"Which of your squad is the best infiltrator?" asks the leader of the warband - who the ignorant would term a Lord. I am indicated. It is true, and I nod. "Be warned. The role you play will necessitate...permanent disfigurement," he states.

A cruelty of fate - but a necessary one. Nothing is gained without price, and the wheel turns once more.

Our volunteering is a matter of course, and an intensive preparation follows. It is known amongst the warband as the Becoming. Hypnotherapy and study are alternated with psychic imprinting and modification. The first of us becomes a son of the Great Angel, with lustrous hair and intense blue eyes. Two others are modified into the pattern of Guilliman, faces reconfigured with aquiline and haughty features. The one of us with the most implants is a natural fit for a descendant of the Gorgon.

For me, the process is especially rigorous. The others will have cover as members of the Deathwatch, scions of other legions. As a Black Templar I will be the lynchpin, the one upon whom the scrutiny will fall most acutely. Everything must be accounted for. The bio-mancers amongst our warband work their magics, bursting individual cells and growing new ones so that my skin tone is lightened by a hairsbreadth, my face rendered weathered, crows' feet inserted at the corners of my eyes. My shaved scalp grows a short mane of dull, mud-colored hair, with grey clinging to my temples. A stubble takes shape on my chin. My eyes burn as they turn a pale shade of brown.

The changes are not all external. Surgery removes the Betcher's Gland, the holdout weapon of the Astartes that enables the spitting of acid, which no son of Dorn would possess. My vocal cords are damaged as a byproduct of the procedure, rendering my voice gravelly and leaving a scar at the side of my throat. The Sus-An membrane is likewise removed, a procedure which underscores the gravity of the mission - if things should go badly, there will be no retreating into the deepest sleep to await healing or reinforcement. I must succeed or die.

The final step of the Becoming makes use of another implanted organ. A frozen cask is brought forth, and from it is scooped the still-bleeding progenoid gland of the Templar whose into whose life I shall step. Rich with the genetic codes of Rogal Dorn and the lifesblood of the Black Templar, it tears readily between my teeth so that the Omophagea absorbs the fullness of the information stored within its genomes. And with it...

I am Brother Viaten of the Black Templars.

I am one hundred and thirty-seven years of age. I have hunted traitor and mutant and xenoform all my life. I have been seventeen years amongst the Inquisition. I am a fine swordsman, as befits a follower of Sigismund. I am dutiful, serious, and earnest. I am pious as well, a disposition which sets me apart from my fellow kill-team members, but which nevertheless I must embrace if my mission is to be successful.

We are granted fine armor and weapons. The Ordo Xenos does not stint in the arming of their pet space marines. A great relic sword is granted to hang amongst my wargear, a fine bolt pistol accompanying it. It is an enviable - though not, in form, unusual - armament for a man of the Eternal Crusade. We will use our status as ambassadors of the Deathwatch to nestle close to the heart of the Crusade and gain proximity to the Marshal, and whatever officers accompany him, and when the moment comes, our masterfully-crafted weaponry will strike the head from their shoulders. In the confusion that follows the warband with slaughter them to a man. Upon such moments, the heartbeat between life and death, does the great wheel turn.

A minor cruiser spirits us into the night while the warband turns their bows towards a distant world, there to make ready the trap that will crush the Templar crusade and leave the Alpha Legion the unknown, yet undisputed, masters of the local reaches. The transit time is time for practice, for the final moments of preparation in battle and behavioral drill to make the lure seamless. Upon our shoulders rests the full weight of the operation. Ten thousand years of history rests behind us. Infiltrate. Overcome. Conquer.

They say no plan survives contact with the enemy. Ours does not last even that long.

Word had been that the orks had been broken, driven into full retreat across the surface of the shrineworld following a heroic efforts by the Templars. But even in the waning moments of battle, death lurks behind every passing second. The ork ships have broken beneath the Templar fleet, but as they flee ahead of the Astartes' bows, a ramship takes the chance presented and rapidly turns to intercept our cruiser and slams into our starboard side. Pandemonium erupts. Men dressed as Inquisition soldiers battle with the greenskins as the crew fights to prevent a catastrophic destabilization of the power core.

The foul xenos cannot be abided, but the mission is paramount. We have a thunderhawk, and we escape the burning ship to make for the Templar fleet, blaring warnings of an urgent message. The cockpit has room for four - pilot, copilot, navigator, gunner - and I am related to the forward hold, strapping myself into the crash webbing as the remainder of the kill-team bring all their considerable skill to bear on the task of extricating ourselves from the dire situation. But it is not enough to escape the sudden birth of a celestial inferno as it blossoms behind us, and the dropship tumbles like a ration tin kicked down a cliffside, the hull white-hot.

It is supremely difficult to make an Astartes black out, but the disaster in the void accomplishes the task, and when I regain consciousness I am in a hangar bay with a man in the white armour of an apothecary bent over. The cross of the Black Templars is painted on his shoulder. When I manage to clear my throat and ask about the kill-team, he looks at me with cool eyes and informs me that I am the only one left. The others are laid out nearby, shrouds covering their bodies - or what remains of them, extracted from the crushed cockpit of the thunderhawk.

I fight to my feet. "I must speak to the Marshal," I say.

The apothecary rises with me, his wizened face closed of emotion. "He is en route. He would speak with you, as well, brother." The 'brother' is added carelessly, as if nearly forgotten. Despite his cool manner, he leaves me in peace to mime praying over the fallen members of my kill-team. O capricious fate! That I, the key to our mission, be the only survivor! From the beginning the plan had turned upon having a friendly face to ensure the Templars would heed the urging of the Deathwatch. All might have been lost upon a few seconds' difference.

There is another part to my good fortune as well, with reasons that I have not chosen to reflect upon since the Becoming. Had I been amongst the dead aboard the thunderhawk the Templars might have tried extracting the precious gene-seed of Dorn from my crushed body, an effort they clearly undertook with one of my fellows before abandoning the cause as lost. Of all the implanted organs the progenoid glands are far and away the most precious, for it is only through them that the Astates may regulate our transhuman bodies and propagate our ranks through the march of history.

In the Alpha Legion, this is taken to its natural conclusion, the recognition of each Legionnaire as but a small piece of the whole, a cell in a great body. I am Alpharius. We are, all of us, Alpharius. As I kneel over my squad - my fallen selves - I cannot help but touch a hand to the breastplate of my armor. The Templars will think that I continue my prayers, and that is well enough, but beneath the ceramite a plate of adamantium is stapled into place beneath the hollow of my throat, attached to the Black Carapace implanted beneath my right pectoral muscle.

It looks like another war-scar. An unfortunate blow from missile shrapnel, perhaps, or a strike from a plasma gun. Beneath it, where the progenoid gland would have attached itself to my tissues, there is only scar tissue. There is a primary progenoid, buried deep within my torso, but it could only be extracted in the event of my death. The secondary progenoid, extracted once every ten years, is used in the implantation procedure that creates new space marines. Its removal signifies a gelding, of a sort.

I am Alpharius. Alpharius lives within us. But succeed or fail in this mission, I will contribute no more to the greater whole of the Legion.

I am called. I am Brother Viaten of the Black Templars, and I go to meet the Marshal of the Jorian Crusade.

The Marshal listens to my warning, in the company of the officers of the Crusade. Amongst them is the apothecary, whose gaze remains flat and suspicious. Does he suspect? Is the scar upon my throat, the one upon my chest too coincidental? He remains closemouthed, however, and permits me to present my case.

The argument for the Black Templars' intervention is a masterwork. The Deathwatch kill-team had identified an uninhabited world - mapped as Tanas-335 - which lay just outside the furthest inhabited reaches of the segmentum. A pirate band is suspected of sheltering there, staging attacks on isolated planets where the Imperial defenses are thin. Upon investigation, the kill-team made the decision to approach the Templars for backup as more firepower is needed to oust the renegades from their stronghold.

The planet's existence - true.

The attacks upon the Imperium - true.

The rumors of a piratical group - true.

The Deathwatch's investigation of a distant world - true.

The request for the Templars' aid is the sole lie, and crucially it is one that cannot be disproven, as the decision is said to originate with the kill-team captured and slain by the Alpha Legion. Were they still alive, my squad would each step into the role of a Deathwatch member, expanding upon the false circumstances of 'our' investigation. As it is I must carry this burden myself.

The Marshal's name is Holst, and he is silent throughout my recitation, allowing his subordinates to pepper me with questions and demands. I know this tactic well, a basic interrogation technique used by the Inquisition, and I do not let it sway my balance. In the end, he lifts a hand mid-sentence to bring silence. "I would have preferred more time to secure Gond, but the lion's share of the war is over. The Guard and the Argent Shroud will handle the mop-up. Disseminate orders that the fleet is to prepare for warp transit. I want us ready to jump by week's end. The Crusade moves on."

And that is it. With as much ease as the snapping of a set of fingers, the Crusade fleet begins making its preparations. I am astonished at the credulousness of the Black Templars. A mere question-and-answer meeting and their faith in a man wearing their colors is such that they are prepared to shove off to war. No extended interrogation, no astropathic queries for validation, not even a perfunctory mindsweep by one of the chapter's librarians - but I forget, the Black Templars do not employ such powers, thinking them the province of mutants and witches.

How is it that such fools have not only survived but thrived for ten thousand years? It is a miracle I can only subscribe to capricious fate.

Similarly, I am added to the Marshal's retinue with hardly a second thought. A Deathwatch veteran is a valued fighter and counsel, and without a ship of my own it is as well I travel with the headquarters of the Crusade. It is insane. I am a dagger poised to strike at the heart of their leadership, and they welcome me in with open arms. I am invited to try blades against my fellows, in which I hold my own respectably well thanks to the intense conditioning of my mission prep, and I am even permitted a seat at the flagship's feasting table in the company of the chapter's Sword Brethren. All is as it should be.

Except the apothecary. He keeps me at arms' length, speaking respectfully but never warmly, his eyes suspicious whenever he crosses my path, and I cannot shake the concern that he has some inkling of my true nature, despite my efforts. His name is Jaromir, I soon learn, and he is one of the longest-serving members of the Jorian Crusade at just over three hundred years of age. A man - Astartes or not - does not live so long without a canniness, and I am tempted to eliminate him, but in the three weeks' travel between Gond and Tanas-335 there is no opportunity to quietly remove the threat.

Tanas-335 is little more than an ugly hunk of rock in space orbiting a dull brown dwarf star. In composition it is not unlike the great forge world Mars, save its color is more a dingy brown-grey unlike the striking red of the Adeptus Mechanicus homeworld. A thin jacket of gases clings to the planet as the barest excuse of an atmosphere. As the Templar fleet closes there are reports of a base built into one of the planet's mountain ranges. The base is real - discovered by the warband in centuries past, once a mining station of some manner long since abandoned.

The reports are troublesome nonetheless. As the Crusade draws near and prepares for deployment, there is no sign of life on the surface. The warband had intended to leave the appearance of a skeleton crew, a minimum of machinery running to suggest an unprepared, unprofessional clutch of renegades. There are no ships reported in orbit either, which is equally troublesome - the warband had intended to leave a sacrificial lamb or two above the planet for the Templars to enjoy pouncing upon, thus leaving them open to reprisal.

Strangely enough I am not alone in my misgivings, though the exact reasons are of course not shared. The Templars are suspicious of a trap, exactly what was not supposed to happen, and a few questions are shot my way which I must hasten to field. I do know how why the facility seems so dead. Perhaps the renegades are off pillaging somewhere and we have caught them while away from home.

In the end the Templars make the choice to close in and drop their companies onto the surface of the planet. I accompany the Marshal's fighting company, silently waiting for the time to strike. The surface of Tanas-335 is as dead as it appears from orbit; lifeless rock and dust. The same goes for the station, machinery inert and life support below minimum levels, suggesting a deactivation of a week ago or more.

Ten thousand years past, the words were spoken: 'you are my space marines, and you shall know no fear.' And yet my blade is at the ready as we move deeper into the facility, past living quarters and storehouses into the older mining construction beneath the surface levels. It feels as if someone is observing me, and an itch develops between my shoulders as if anticipating a shot from behind.

I am Alpharius. I am well accustomed to improvising when plans go awry, but nothing here is as it should be.

There is a sudden burst of vox chatter as the fighting companies make the descent into the pit beneath the station, and a neophyte comes running to report to the Mashal, bearing a shocking find - the helm of a space marine, or at least part of one. It is the upper-left quarter of a Mk.IV helm, iridescent blue. It has been sheared away by an impossibly sharp blade that has left behind a perfect cut in the metal, without scrape or shard. A horn juts from the curvature of the helm in the fashion of many a self-styled warlord of the renegade fleets that plague the Imperium.

It is immediately recognizable to the Templars as the color of the Alpha Legion. And it is further recognizable to me as the helm of my own commander. Something has gone terribly wrong.

As if the finding of the helm were some manner of silent cue, weapons fire erupts and reports of movement and attackers begin to flood the vox. They come boiling up from the depths of the mining like a swarm of hornets, glistening steel insectoids with eyes that glow a bright green. They are followed by monstrosities of steel and gleaming metallic warriors that appear almost skeletal in nature, armed with weapons that fire searing blasts of energy and poisonously green lightning.

I cannot help but feel I am made mockery as the wheel turns once more. Fate, so fortunate, so kind, to leave me alive to see the mission through, only for my warband to fall to the supreme irony that the trap we had devised for the Templars was all along waiting for us to set our feet into the snare set out years ago by a sleeping Necrontyr dynasty.

The thought of it is enraging, and I hurl myself into battle alongside the Templars themselves. My relic sword is a priceless weapon on par with the finest creations of the Inqusition, and it cleaves through the living steel of the Necron warriors with a roar and a crackle of flame everywhere it strikes. It is all to easy to imagine that this unthinking, unfeeling machine-creature slayed this member of the warband, or that this one slayed that. I roar vengeance, unafraid that my motives be questioned in the heat of battle as I strike down one after another. There are more of them, however, always more, a sea of silver skeletons in which to drown.

A hand at my arm hauls me back. The Black Templars are in retreat, withdrawing in the face of the threat posed by the waking Necron tomb. The dreadfully advanced weaponry of the Necrontyr reaps a fearsome tally from the Astartes even in the span of a few minutes' fighting, and their numbers only swell as more and more of the xenos boil up from the depths. There is no glorious stand to be made here, no heroic turning of the tide. There is only a withdrawal, an ashen taste in the mouths of the fanatical crusaders, and it is equally bitter on my tongue as we draw back from the facility. Somewhere along the way, I dash past a Templar attempting to hobble along on a single leg, the other having been shot out from under him, and it is a matter of a moment to grab hold of him and haul him bodily back towards the drop zone.

We flee the planet, carrying our wounded and our dead, and the Crusade fleet unleashes a devastating bombardment of lance and magma cannon upon the surface of Tanas-335. The fleet carries no cyclonic warheads, but the concentration of sheer firepower upon one point soon turns the facility to molten slag and bores a hole almost thirty kilometers deep into the planet's crust. The unleashed energy of the bombardment actually shifts the planet's orbit slightly and alters its day/night cycle, such is the fearsome wrath of the Black Templars.

Amidst the bombardment, a xenos ship is seen lifting from some manner of cavernous hangar beneath the planet's surface. A great crescent in shape, it accelerates with truly staggering velocity and passes through the Templar fleet within minutes, swatting one Gladius-class escort as contemptuously as a man might swat a fly, and the minor damage inflicted by the repisal is scant comfort. The alien ship disappears from the fleet's scopes as it flies from the system with impossible speed, leaving us to collect ourselves and count our dead.

In the days that follow a few fragments of capital ships are found amidst the barren system, and the final fate of the warband is put to rest as victims of the Necrontyr. As a single, self-sufficient compartment in the whole of the Alpha Legion, the warband will be written off as a loss. There will be none who suspect my survival, and I do not know how to contact them.

I am Alpharius.

For the first time in my life, I am terribly alone.

As Tanas-335 smoulders, the Crusade performs its last rites for the dead and turns its bows back towards the greater Imperium, making for an agri-world which reports invasion by the alien hrud. The Templars pray and exercise their blade-work in preparation for another fighting action, looking forward to a more fulfilling combat than the one which we have left behind. And amidst the preparation, Marshal Holst comes to find me.

I am seated in the quarters given to me - little more than a cell, spartan and stripped of anything but bare utilitarian needs. The most I can offer the Marshal is a spare seat, which he takes, referring to a data-slate he holds in one hand. "I have ordered our astropath make contact with the nearest watch-fortress of the Inquisition," he tells me. "They are informed of the loss of their kill-team and the confrontation at Tanas-335."

I nod.

"I am given to understand that you were once a member of the Vaelson Crusade, before your secondment to the Deathwatch," he goes on. "At last word, two years past, they had entered the Segmentum Pacificus and were engaged in battle in the Perseus Arm." He deactivates the data-slate and looks into my eyes. "Viaten, it is not in this Crusade's ability to despatch a ship more than three-quarters of the way across the galaxy to return a single marine to his proper place. I have sent word to the Inquisition and they have acknowledged it is best you remain here. Begin the rites to repaint your armour. Your time in the Deathwatch has ended. You are a Black Templar once more."

I nod again.

Holst tilts his head slightly. "I had expected you to be more enthused."

What to say? "My thoughts dwell on my brothers," is all I can think to dredge up.

He nods as if in understanding. "You served with them for the better part of two decades," he says, thinking I mean the kill-team. "It is well that you mourn them. See the chaplains if you feel in need of counsel." Then he reaches across the space between us to touch my knee. "But as we speak of brethren lost, I have a request to make of you, Viaten. The losses on Tanas-335 necessitate a redistribution of our fighting men, and I have several stragglers yet to be assigned. If you would have it, I intend to see you made sergeant, and put them under your command."

I blink, once. "Why?"

He smiles slightly. "Your experience, for one, and your wrath against the xenos. And your rescue of Brother Rudi. You have the makings of a fine squad leader. Think on it for a day," he urges before he rises and departs to leave me alone once more.

I spend some hours in thought. What is the longer game? This bait is too much, too easy. No sane man would grant such a boon so generously to one he barely knows.

I walk among the Templars for a day. The air is yet thick with the frustration of retreating from the Necrons, and the halls ring with sword-drill and prayer. Amidst it all, a few call me by name, to compliment my tally against the foe. Can these men, members of a chapter who has evaded the attention of no less paranoid an organization than the Inquisition, truly be so guileless? It is displacing, and I wander deep below decks to one of the quieter chapels, and there sit alone for some time.

In the end I accept the offer, and a ceremony is conducted in which I am named Brother-Sergeant of the Jorian Crusade, and a clutch of space marines assigned to my command: Ernst, a reckless swordsman, Andreas, who is quiet and more strategic in his thinking, Hagop, who was born aboard ship and habitually responds 'aye, brother-sergeant,' to orders, and Otto, a lascannon-wielding veteran. And Brother Rudi, young and eager even as he adjusts to his artificial leg.

It is difficult to adjust to such an eclectic mixture of humanity. Unlike in the warband, where conscious effort would be made to erase any threat of distinction between selves, the Black Templars are open in their humours, not only recognizing but even making sport of the differences between man and man. Still, when called to fight they become a finely-tuned machine, covering one another's weaknesses with their strengths.

They are bloodied soon enough, as the Crusade moves to turn back the hrud invasion. Those of us with blades protect Otto and Hagop, who lay waste with lascannon and flamer. By this time the old coats of paint are scrubbed from my armour, Deathwatch silver and...anything from before that replaced with the proper ebon of the Black Templars, the great cross taking up residence upon my shoulder. This time the Astartes are the weight that carries the Imperial defenses to victory, scattering the hrud before us.

As we celebrate there is a hand at my shoulder, and I turn to see Apothecary Jaromir, his gaze no longer ice-cold. "I have seen too many men, Astartes included, go to serve the Inquisition and become too much like the lords they serve," he admits to me. "They become paranoid and mistrustful, seeing threats in every shadow, and they cannot return to the bonds of brotherhood that once filled their lives with meaning, and instead they see nothing in using their brethren as so many playing pieces upon some cosmic board. Forgive my wariness, Brother-Sergeant, it is good to see you so well in the ranks of the Crusade."

"It is of no consequence," I assure him with a clap upon the shoulder.

I am Brother-Sergeant Viaten, and with the Eternal Crusade do I hunt the foes of humanity, without pity, and without remorse.

And without fear.

#40k #kurze writes #Black Templars #Alpha Legion

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beastlyimagines · 6 years

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A/N: I know Albus was gay, but I’m just really attracted to the ‘Crimes of Grindelwald’ Dumbledore played by Jude Law. And I can’t be the only one, right? This takes place after Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and is completely AU since obviously we don’t know what happens yet. I just had this story inspiration and had to write it down. Hope you all like it! The Grindelwald family was never quite right after their mother passed away. Mr. Grindelwald took to working and drinking, hardly taking any time to pay attention to either of his children. The oldest child, 13 at the time, locked himself in his room and didn’t let anyone else in. The youngest child, only 11 years old, felt lost. With no father or brother to talk to, she threw herself into her school work and friends. Your brother, Gellert, had been a good older brother growing up. You loved him with all your heart, idolized and admired him. Even after he began changing into a cruel person, you still clung to the person he used to be. The summer after he was expelled from school, you decided to join him at your Great Aunt Bathilda’s house in Godric's Hollow. Gellert was unhappy to have you there, not wanting you to get in between his and his friends plans. You had always had a strong stance for equality of all kinds; be it blood status, gender, class standing, or even creatures. You believed that every living thing deserved rights. This was one of the things that ostracized you from your classmates, not that you really ever cared. The friends you made in school were brilliant, and you wouldn’t change them for anything in the world. Regardless of your brother not wanting you interfering with his plans, he’d introduced you to his friend Albus. Over the next two months that you spent with him, you grew to have quite the crush on the boy that was four years your senior. Albus was very kind and patient with you, something that was unusual for boys his age. Most 18 year olds acted as if younger girls were non-existent, but Albus always went out of his was to make you smile. It was like a slap in the face when reality caught up to you. You’d decided to tidy up the house while your Aunt and brother were out one day, when you came across a bunch of letters strewn around Gellerts room. Becoming curious when you noticed Albus’ neat handwriting, you took a peek. What you found in those letters would haunt you for years after. All the rumors you had heard about your brother were suddenly more believable; why he spent so much time locked in his room, the reason for his suspension, why he wanted to come to Godric’s Hollow in the first place. And what was even more horrifying; Albus, gentle and charming Albus, was actually helping him. You’d confronted them that afternoon, arms crossed and eyes stern. Gellert had just brushed aside your anger, not really caring what you thought of him. Albus though, had told you that a young girl like yourself couldn’t possibly understand that what they were doing would be for the greater good. You just couldn’t understand how ruling over millions of defenseless muggles could be for ‘the greater good’. When you said as much, Gellert had just turned away while mumbling how the muggles were lucky that they’d even be allowed to live. If it were solely up to him, he’d wipe the muggles from existence. That was the last straw. The next morning you were on a train to Scotland, to stay with your cousin while you finished your schooling. You’d never talked to either boy again after that. It was years later when your brother actually gained a following and began rising in power. Horrified at what he was doing, yet too afraid to ever face your brother head on, you fled to America. With the help of the President of MACUSA, you changed your last name and some of your features. In exchange, you worked for the Auror department in America. Eventually you rose up the ranks and worked just under Percival Graves himself. You were his second hand man, his most trusted colleague. Until you weren’t. He returned from a raid one day acting strange. He became secretive, withdrawn and more tempered. You brushed it aside for a while, but eventually you had to confront it. When Percival sentenced Tina and Newt to execution, you decided to act. You helped free the two, and snuck Newt’s case from right under Graves’ nose. You discussed your suspicions with Newt, which led him to later reveal the man was actually another in disguise. And suddenly you were face to face with the past you had tried so hard to run from. He at least didn’t know who you were, but you became a target none-the-less. After the events in New York settled down, Newt invited you to finish his book with him. The two of you got along really well, both bonding over your love for creatures. And while Newt was really good with he creatures, he wasn’t very good with his words. So while he was in charge of knowing about all of his Beasts, you were in charge of writing it down for him. You made a great team. Which brings you to the present; being dragged through the city of London after being rudely woken up this morning. “Newt, I don’t understand what the rush is! It’s only 7 in the morning, you know I love my sleep on a day off.” You whined childishly, trying to slow the frantic man down. “Grindelwald escaped.” The Hufflepuff finally told you, causing you to grow tense. “We both know there are targets on our backs for what we did to him, I need to talk to one of my old professors.” “Why?” You asked, trying to calm your racing heart beat. You wondered if your friend could hear it. “He’ll know what to do.” He said simply, and the two of you grew silent. You let Newt continue to pull you along, until he finally found a place safe enough for apparition. The two of you turned on the spot, moments later appearing on the roof of one of London’s tallest buildings. There was a man waiting for you, back turned and looking down at the city below. “Professor Dumbledore.” Newt spoke, causing you to freeze as the man before you finally turned. Surely it couldn’t be- “Newt.” The man said, a smile on his face as he looked at his old student. “It’s nice to see you again, though I believe we’ve already discussed this professor nonsense. I am no longer your professor, therefore there is no reason for you to still call me by that name.” “Right, sorry pro- er I mean Albus.” Newt corrected, earning a pleased smile from the older man. Albus’ gaze then landed on you, causing Newt to introduce you. “This is y/fake/n, she’s the one that helped me in New York. Y/fake/n, this is Albus Dumbledore. He teaches Transfiguration at Hogwarts.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/fake/n.” Albus spoke, offering you his hand. You finally shook yourself out of your shock, moving your eyes away from the handsome man in front of you and looking to your friend. “Are you sure we can trust him?” You asked Newt, glancing at Albus through the corner of your eye. The man had retracted his offered hand, watching you curiously. “Of course we can! I’ve known him since I was 11!” Newt defended, wondering why you were glancing distrustfully at his former professor. “I can assure you, I have but good intentions. I’d like to see Grindelwald defeated just like anyone else.” Albus spoke up, his words seemingly honest. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you, Professor.” You spoke cooly, eyes never leaving his blue ones. “But the last time I saw you, you thought Gellert’s ideas were for ‘the greater good.’” “How..?” Albus trailed off, eyes narrowing on you suspiciously. You could see his mind racing, trying to figure out how you possibly knew that part of his past. Suddenly he froze, his eyes widening in realization. “Who are you really?” He mumbled, taking a step closer to you. Newt watched from the side in shock as you raised your wand, tapped it against your head once, and mumbled a spell under your breath. A wave seemed to wash over you, changing your features into a slightly different person. “Y/N.” Albus breathed, voice soft as he took in your changed appearance. “It’s been a while.” You told him, folding your arms across your chest like you had all those years ago. “I can see why you’d be so weary of me.” Albus spoke, taking another hesitant step towards you. “But I’m not that 18 year old boy anymore. I haven’t been friends with Gellert for years, since a few days after you left actually. You leaving made a divide in our friendship, which only deepened when I realized that you were right. It took me losing you and my sister to realize that Gellert was wrong. That I was wrong. And I’ve spent every day since trying to make up for that. I’m sorry Y/N.” “I’m sorry about Ariana, I heard about her passing a week after I left. I wanted to go back for the funeral, but I just.. I couldn’t face either of you again.” You told him, arms falling limply to your sides as relief washed over you from his words. “I read all of your letters, to Aberforth.” He told you suddenly, peaking your interest. “I really missed you after you left. I must have wrote hundreds of letters to you, trying to apologize, but I threw all of them away. I couldn’t apologize for something like that through a letter. I kept hoping that maybe I could find you, I’d heard you transferred to Hogwarts so I always watched for you at the end of term. I could never find you.” He admitted, making you smile finally. “Aberforth warned me that you were looking for me, so I always waited till the last minute to get off the train. I was avoiding you at all costs because I thought you were still set in Gellerts ways. I’m sorry.” You said sincerely, lookin away from his intense eyes for a moment. It was then that you realized that Newt has disappeared, probably to let the two of you talk. You’d have to explain everything to him later, hopefully he wouldn’t be too upset with you for lying to him all this time. Albus grabbing your hands in his had your attention turning back to the wizard once again. “Do you think you could ever forgive me? I’ve spent the last 26 years trying to repent for all those thoughts I so foolishly had, and not a day goes by where I don’t regret the fact that some of his plans were given to him by me. I never want to see that look in your eyes that you gave me that day again. You were so disappointed in me, like you knew I could be better. And I want to be better. For you and for my sister, and for everyone out there that’s ever been treated unfairly. Please, do you think you could give me another chance.” Albus’ eyes were twinkling as he stared down into your eyes, sending you heart racing and your palms sweating. You suddenly weren’t a grown woman anymore, you were that 14 year old who had been enamored by the handsome older boy. “So you no longer think that wizards should rule over the muggles?” You asked, a slow grin taking over your face. When Albus shook his head, you continued. “And you don’t think muggleborns should be treated any differently than pure bloods?” You were positively beaming when he nodded again, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Well, all that’s left now is for you to sign my petition for the fair treatment and protection of all magical creatures and I’d say a second chance would be in the near future.” Albus laughed wholeheartedly at that last bit, smiling fondly down at you. “I’d even sign that petition for the freeing of all House Elfs that you made back then if that’s what it takes.” He teased, causing you to smile widely and take the last step towards him. He pulled you against his chest, hugging you tightly in relief and he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I missed you too, Albus.”

#fantastic beasts imagine #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fantastic beasts 2 #fantastic beasts the crimes of grindelwald #albus dumbledore #Albus Dumbledore imagine #newt scamander #gellert grindelwald #harry potter #harry potter imagine

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scpie · 4 years

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11 Ways to Overcome Fear During a Crisis

July 30, 2020 12 min read

Opinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.

When President Franklin Delano Roosevelt said, “We have nothing to fear but fear itself,” he wasn’t just making a catchy statement to gin up support for his policies. He was speaking to a nation struggling with what was just the beginning of what we now know as the Great Depression. The statement is not completely true since there are plenty of other things to fear, including sharks, taxes and global pandemics. But this much is an absolute fact — especially for entrepreneurs — fear can lead to unwise decisions, which can bring about the very negative consequences we wish to avoid. There is indeed much to fear about fear itself. Here are 11 ways to overcome fear during the current crisis or the next one you experience.

1. Name the fear

When faced with a crisis and paralyzing fear, the most difficult obstacle in your path may be admitting you are afraid. It’s only once we recognize the reality of the situation that we can deal with it.

One way to better identify your fear is to imagine the worst that can happen. In her New York Times bestseller Insight, author Tasha Eurich shares a recommendation made by decision psychologist Gary Klein, who advocates a “pre-mortem” for major decisions. The idea is to imagine yourself one year in the future and that everything has gone wrong. Your plans are a total disaster. Then write what that would look like. You might find out the worst that can happen isn’t all that bad, or that you can identify steps to avoid the pitfalls that would lead to disaster.

In Man’s Search for Meaning, Viktor Frankl quoted Spinoza’s Ethics, which said: “Emotion, which is suffering, ceases to be suffering as soon as we form a clear and precise picture of it.” Or to put it another way, Mr. Rogers said, “Anything that’s human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting and less scary. The people we trust with that important talk can help us know that we are not alone.”

Dr. Benjamin Hardy, an organizational psychologist and the author of Personality Isn’t Permanent, shared these quotes with me and then told me, “The key to overcoming fear is giving it form.” Hardy says this can be done through journaling and open conversation. “Daily journaling about how you’re feeling, in addition to sharing your feelings with key people in your life, make your emotions manageable.”

Hardy says, “Does this take courage? Absolutely. But it’s worth it. It’s worth not being bogged down by fear and needless suffering. When you are open and honest as a person, life becomes far more manageable. You stop needlessly suffering internally about unfulfilled dreams or former hurts. You move forward. And that’s the freaking key! Moving forward! Moving forward as powerfully and authentically as possible.”

Related: 8 Powerful Phrases Leaders Need to Say in a Time of Crisis

2. Use fear to fuel your courage

The Japanese poet Kenji Miyazawa said, “We must embrace pain and consume it for fuel on our journey.” During a crisis, you may hear others say, “Nobody can get funded right now,” or “It’s time to survive, forget about growth.” Instead, entrepreneurs like Bryan Brandenburg, founder and chief scientist of visualization company Zenerchi, says, “That’s when I go into warrior mode. Don’t follow the conventional wisdom. It comes from people who are afraid to act or are acting from a place of fear. Instead, look for the opportunities caused by others’ fear.” Or, as Warren Buffet says about how to invest successfully, “Be fearful when others are greedy and be greedy only when others are fearful.”

3. Remember the past

When faced with a worrying future, it often pays to think about how we overcame challenges in the past. When thinking of what could be lost, Melinda Dransfield, VP of sales performance elevation for Prudential Retirement, asks, “Have I lost this or something like it before? How did I deal with it before?” and then reminds herself, “I have been through hard things before.”

I started my business in 1999, just before the dot-com bubble burst. Less than two years later, the economy went into another downturn after the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Then there was the 2008 real estate crisis. Now, whenever the business faces difficult circumstances, I tell myself, “You’ve been here before,” and even if I’m not sure exactly how, I know we’ll get through it.

4. Think past the crisis

Imagining a terrible future can help us avoid that future, but what if things work out great? In an April 2020 article in Harvard Business Review, Mark W. Johnson and Josh Suskewicz share perspectives from their book Lead from the Future. They say that though we must take care of the here and now, we can’t lose sight of the bigger picture. Whatever the future holds, they say, “You need to begin preparing for it now. And to do that right, you need to have a longer-term vision of what you aspire to become in five or even 10 years — a north star that will focus and help shape your thinking about the short- and mid-term.”

I’m reminded of how I learned to mow straight lines across a large lawn by focusing on a point in the distance, rather than the ground in front of me. Even if I ran into bumps along the way, as long as I kept my eye on that point, when I finished I could look back and see a straight path. Take care of the short term, but keep an eye on what’s to come or you’ll find it difficult to avoid getting pulled in multiple directions.

Related: You Can’t Do Everything, and If You Try to You’ll Do Even Less

5. Invest in “alive time”

Your business may not be in danger of going under, but perhaps you find yourself with a lot of spare time. Ryan Holiday, author of multiple bestselling books like The Obstacle Is the Way and Ego Is the Enemy, recalls advice he got about such times from another bestselling author, Robert Green (The 48 Laws of Power). “He told me there are two types of time: alive time and dead time,” Holiday wrote in a recent blog post. “One is when you sit around, when you wait until things happen to you. The other is when you are in control, when you make every second count, when you are learning and improving and growing.”

Could you use the extra time your business has to retool your systems, train your team, or build new products and services?

6. Build your fear muscle

Think of fear like gravity: With the proper equipment, it can help you become stronger. Noah Kagan, “Chief Sumo” at AppSumo.com, likes “the coffee challenge,” in which you ask for 10 percent off your next purchase. Awkward? Difficult? Scary? That’s the point. Do it repeatedly and it will get easier, not because the task itself is any easier, but because you’ve become stronger.

Jia Jiang took this to the ultimate level when he decided to intentionally get rejected 100 times in 100 days. He was inspired after his first attempt at entrepreneurship ended in rejection, leaving Jia emotionally crushed. However, after he recognized his fear of rejection was harming him more than the actual rejection, he decided to embrace rejection in order to become more comfortable with it. His experiences not only helped him become almost immune to rejection but also led to a TED talk on rejection that has been viewed over 6 million times and the bestselling book Rejection Proof.

7. Reevaluate what makes you unique

In a crisis, it’s easy to lose focus on your business and why it exists and instead get trapped into concerns about next week’s payroll. Of course, short-term concerns are important, but if we focus on them too much we may miss opportunities. “Get very clear on your point of view,” advises Steve Watt, VP of marketing at Grapevine6. “Figure out why (and for whom) your approach offers a way forward in difficult times.” You may have a new customer segment that suddenly cares about your company’s offering in a way they didn’t before.

That’s what happened to Zoom, the video conferencing service, in the early months of 2020. As the Covid-19 virus sent tens of millions of students and workers home, Zoom found itself perfectly positioned to help them stay connected. Through outreach (and a healthy dose of word of mouth) Zoom grew from 10 million to daily users in December 2019 to over 300 million daily users by April 2020.

In a crisis, you can combat fear as you find your new niche and let others know how you can solve their problems.

Related: How Entrepreneurs Can Find Clarity in Uncertain Times

8. Identify what you can — and can’t — control

“Fear isn’t bad. It’s the crippling uncertainty that comes with it that eats at us,” says Zachary Zimmerman, senior account manager at marketing agency agency Number Six. To combat that uncertainty, Zimmerman sorts out which aspects of a challenge he has control over and which he doesn’t. This reduces the uncertainty and allows him to focus on what he can change without wasting time on what he can’t.

9. See fear positively

Fear isn’t all bad — sometimes fear keeps us safe from real harm. Fear can also give us motivation. “Fear can be a very positive emotion when it sparks in us the behavior required to overcome, and when we are confident in where we are going,” says Andy Cindrich, senior consultant at FranklinCovey.

10. Find the opportunity

Marcus Sheridan’s experience shows why it’s so important to see every moment, even a crisis, as an opportunity. In 2008, the real estate crisis hit, and Sheridan was in the swimming pool business. Despite occupying a market in which many people were worried about losing their homes (not buying new pools), Sheridan saw that pool builders weren’t using the internet to answer buyers’ questions. He started answering those questions online, and his company’s website became the Wikipedia of swimming pool information. Now his company is the fastest growing fiberglass swimming pool manufacturer in the world.

“When Covid-19 hit and I realized that it was going to get ugly, once again my thoughts immediately shifted,” Sheridan says. “I told myself, ‘Marcus, commit now to find the opportunity in this moment.’”

In just a few months, Sheridan’s company introduced a virtual sales methodology to its team of dealers all over the country and experienced tremendous success. Despite the pandemic-related economic downturn, in April 2020 Sheridan’s company broke every sales record it has ever had.

Related: How Three Different Tech Companies Are Tackling the Common Fight Against Coronavirus

11. Don’t give up

As a senior sales executive, Hunter Sebresos was present for a meeting in which investors were preparing to shut down the company he was working for. However, he knew their customers had a need, so rather than throwing up his hands and trying to find a new job, he came up with a new business model on the spot, pitched it to the investors right then and there, and won funding to create Bacon, a mobile app that allows companies to post details about their temporary staffing jobs straight from their phones and quickly fill positions, rather than spending days or weeks with a staffing or temp agency.

Your company may be on the brink, but is there a way to pivot that gives you a second chance?

There is always hope

No matter how bad things get, there’s always hope for a better future. Even at the height of the Great Depression, the unemployment rate was 24.9 percent — alarming, but it means that 75.1 percent were still employed. Many of the greatest companies of all time were founded during times of great economic challenges. A short list includes Procter & Gamble, IBM, General Electric, General Motors, FedEx, Hyatt, IHOP, Disney, HP, Microsoft, Burger King, CNN and Apple (twice, first during the downturn in 1975, and then when it was resurrected from near-death during the dot-com crash of 2001).

There may be a global crisis right now, and there are certainly others brewing, but even in a crisis — especially during a crisis — there are people out there who need what you have, and there may be no better time to get busy giving it to them.

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nayeon-sadly-owns-me · 7 years

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Welcome back to part 2 for Fool's Gold if you haven’t read that or part one then I suggest you do so or else you’ll be lost. This is my own interpretations so if you disagree please feel free to tell me your thoughts!! I would love to hear them : )

Arguably the longest breakdown I’ve ever written so if you need to stop and go get a drink or a snack then go for it.

Spoilers beyond here

We come back to a love stricken Jeongyeon, a distressed Sana, and an utterly distracted Momo. This is the part where we have gradually gone from the past to the present, where innocent kisses and hugs are no longer very innocent.

If you are not very familiar with Ultraviolet, Jeongyeon and Nayeon are mortal enemies. That makes Momo’s crush on Nayeon a very big issue for Jeongyeon and an even bigger deal for Sana. Another dynamic I wish I got to see more of was Jeongyeon and Nayeon.

Jeongyeon succeeded in showing us what an angry Momo looks like, something we have seen very little of. She is valuing her own emotions instead of bottling them up, something she doesn’t do with Sana. It both shows how important Nayeon has already become considering she is willing to walk away to cool off when Jeongyeon says something bad about her. It also shows how much she puts Sana in front of herself when she never does that to her.

Of course, Sana has to keep up the charade that she only sees Momo as a friend, even in the presence of Jeongyeon. She tries to blow it of as a harmless crush because she can’t see Nayeon actually pay Momo attention. It’s a subtle jab towards Momo, a way of rationalizing her jealousy over Momo liking Nayeon in order to make herself feel better. Sana would never tell that to her face though.

We get our first interaction between Sana and Nayeon. It includes a bathroom stall and an outing message about SaMo. My guess was that Eunha and her gang had everything to do with it. It’s extremely childish and very much a high school thing to do. It doesn’t make the pain of this scene decrease any less though.

Nayeon is the one to take care of the mess although up until now we have no idea why (unless you read ultraviolet of course). Nayeon clearly didn’t greet Sana with hospitality though. She was gonna say something snarky before she notices the writing. If I had to guess, I would say that Nayeon was utterly jealous of Sana. She was the one who got to know the ins and outs of the girl she had been secretly pinning after. The girl who was currently the subject of the gossip on the wall. It’s a sign that she cares about no one finding out about this as much as Sana does.

“I’m not doing it for you.” Is the piece of evidence needed that maybe she holds that grudge against her.

Because the feeling that her crush on Momo is unattainable mirrors what Momo is feeling.

The next scene proves that Eunha did have something to do with the harassment. As someone who has watched someone be outed, it’s a personal relief to watch it end with no consequences. Even if Sana is clearly a walking rainbow with heart eyes for Momo.

It’s also the first time we see the little crush that Dahyun has on Sana. It’s a harmless little crush that probably would have died early on if the person it was on wasn’t Sana.

There is something about the mental image of Momo grinning and waving to Nayeon that makes me feel very guilt about being giddy about it. Although my primary ship is Namo, I am very attached to Samo too.

It makes the scene about Momo talking about her unrequited love for Nayeon just as painful as you know Sana feels that way about Momo. I remember reading it and feeling a crushing feeling, I wanted Sana to get her happy ending so badly because I know how this feels.

If the kisses and sex mean anything to Momo, by now anybody might come to the conclusion that Momo might be doing this because she wants to feel wanted. Being with Sana makes her feel wanted even if it’s not the kind that she wants. In a way, it might not be as innocent as it was originally intended to be.

Instead of talking, Sana proposes a party instead. This is high school after all.

Sana harmlessly flirts with Dahyun, Jeongyeon harmlessly talks about her girlfriends new friendship, and everyone else just tries to keep Jihyo from being a mess. It makes me wonder if they got caught with the alcohol when the teacher caught them.

It also makes me remember that Sana must think about Momo’s crush on Nayeon a lot considering how threatened she feels by it. Again, it feels like a subtle jab to talk about how Momo is out of her league. Not in a good way. She has twisted her thoughts into believing that Nayeon could never notice Momo, because she is Im Nayeon. It’s an unhealthy way of thinking that has grown from Sana believing she is the only one who is a match for Momo.

It doesn’t help when they spend all class turning each other on and try to have a quickie in the bathroom 5 minutes before class. Hormonal teenagers who want to show each other just how much they mean to them even if they’re just “friends”. When they’re having such an intimate and loving moment just laughing and kissing, it’s another moment that makes you really really REALLY want them to end up together. Tbh it’s tearing me apart to not root for them. You win this round Stormy.

The moment is broken up by a revelation that Bona is now solely in love with Xuan Yi, a girl who isn’t Jeongyeon. It’s awkward but it makes you realize that Bona legitimately didn’t mean to hurt her. That is until she takes the flight option and you remember just how cruel teenagers can be. Why stay when you can leave, it’s so easy right?

We get a pleasant reminder just how much of a bitch Nayeon can be, especially when it concerns Jeongyeon. They were made to piss each other off, no boundaries included. It makes sense that Jeongyeon takes her anger out on her, and it makes even more sense for Nayeon to be completely ready to fight back. It’s so mind-numbingly apparent just how different Nayeon is compared to Momo. The crush she has on her as never felt more bizarre than it did when Nayeon throws cocky words back into Jeongyeons face.

If Momo had been there, I wonder how differently it would have played out. Would Nayeon still cave because she lives for the drama, or would she have taken the high road?

We get context that Momo has been crushing on her for almost a year, it isn’t just a simple crush anymore. Sana recognizes it and so she tries to come to terms with it by telling Jeongyeon to behave. It is almost like she is saying that more to herself though. She almost gets there, but goes back on her previous words by reminding both her and Jeongyeon that Momo will move on soon.

It’s a total Sana move to cope with her feelings by seeking out the attention of others. Sana is a person who craves attention and applause because it makes her feel validated in a way that Momo doesn’t make her feel. It’s a selfish mindset as only just a few scenes ago Momo was ready to eat her out after trying to fuck her in class.

Maybe Momo has put Sana on a golden pedistal, maybe she feels guilty about kissing and touching Sana? Theres something about Momo saying she doesn’t deserve Sana that makes you feel like there is more to it. Whether it’s me over thinking it (probably) or Momo really does just love Sana that much.

I just want to say that Jeongyeon calling Mina, Mona, is still one of the funniest things to come out of Stomry’s work. It’s even better when Tzuyu gives everyone the idea that they should let Jeongyeon figure it out on her own. (Of course Mina + Bona = Mona and that sours the mood)

If I ever write about Ultraviolet, I’ll talk about the scene where Mina meets them the gang for the first time and all that goes with it.

What I WILL talk about is that Mina is the only one not caught up in her own emotions enough to notice that Nayeon looks at Momo too. Mina becomes a new outlet to Momo, one that I appreciate as a reader because it gives it new perspective. We get to see the depth of her affection when a simple shared look caused her soul to leave her body. It’s different from how she is with Sana where she is composed and in charge of her emotion.

It’s an obvious contrast to Momo’s shaken behavior where she is downright nervous at the idea of Nayeon walking towards her. She forgets how to talk in Korean and man what a cutie. I thoroughly believe that nobody can write Momo better than Stormy can. Nayeon would be a close second.

Spoiler alert: Nayeon knows Momo exists and suddenly Jeongyeon and Sana’s words lose the power it once had.

Momo is so beyond smitten with Nayeon, she praises the girl in ways she never did with Sana. With Sana it was always gentle words, but with Nayeon it’s large metaphors and hyperboles. She considers Nayeon’s presence to be in comparison to watching the universe expand because this marks the day that Momo has been changed by just such a small encounter.

Im a firm believer in the concept that even the smallest encounters can change a person’s life. Sana had hers with Momo, and Momo had hers with Nayeon.

It’s disheartening to see her two best friends naturally not share her enthusiasm because of their own reasons. This makes an impact on Momo because of how much she depends on their support. Wanting them to pretend like they’re happy is not them though, so you have to settle for what their reality is. It’s a reality where her best friends really don’t want her falling for Nayeon and it kinda hurts to see. I can’t argue with them though because they both have very sound reasons.

That impact doesn’t stay tangible for long when she has a literal run in with Nayeon. Full introduction and all. We get to see the different side of Nayeon, the kind and compassionate side. The encounter is so sweetly awkward that if you ship Namo you can’t help but grin. Momo had spent the better part of the second part being told she isn’t on Nayeon’s radar when she absolutely is. If you main Samo, this is the part that probably made the pain 10x worse, for that- here is a tissue.

It’s so naturally awkward that it really does feel realistic when Momo doesn’t talk to Nayeon while helping her with the books. When you spend so much time daydreaming scenarios and then actually have one happen, it’s a bit overwhelming. Momo does say she’s her dream girl and she means it. If she isn’t thinking about Sana, then she is probably thinking about Nayeon. Maybe those two should be switched now?

Nayeon makes her intentions known as to why she wanted Momo’s help, she wanted to get to know her. When Momo didn’t indulged her, it’s no wonder that maybe she was deflating because of false hopes. If you know anything about Fool’s Gold Momo, it’s that she’s a people pleaser.

Even if it means stuttering that Nayeon being pretty is the reason.

Nayeon has to test the waters to make sure that Momo doesn’t hate her like Jeongyeon does (and Sana although that’s a blurred line). Insight that this is why she hasn’t approached her before. Nayeon has a jealous streak, hating Momo’s friends for being able to make Momo happy is probably a plausible reason to her.

Sana telling herself not to worry about Momo being in detention screams foreshadowing.

We get more HBIC Nayeon to Softy Nayeon when it comes to realizing Momo is in the room. Going from ‘Do I really have to?’ to ‘If you don’t want to come back I can totally understand’. She is much better at being subtle than Sana even by just an inch.

They’re finally talking and it’s a positive step in the right direction for Momo. This is a girl that generally cares about what Momo has to say regardless of her cold attitude to everyone else. They say that when you’re smitten with someone, their hobbies become your favorite thing. When Nayeon shares her love for doodling with Momo, it’s like she shared a secret with her.

Momo tells her that she likes Spongebob, for anyone who has somehow forgotten, she shared her first kiss with Sana while watching an episode of Spongebob. That is why it holds fond memories despite being forgotten about.

We don’t know what Nayeon was going to say to Momo, maybe it was an invitation to see her again, maybe it was a confession? We don’t have to ponder about it for long because Momo is the one to initiate that they should see each other again. She wants Nayeon to become a constant thing in her life, much like how Sana is.

Clearly the encounter had made Nayeon feel something too the way she withdraws in order to not make anything look suspicious when the teacher returns. Nayeon makes it clear that Momo can come see her whenever she wants, it’s a heartwarming moment that confirms that Momo’s unattainable crush is actually just around the corner within reach at any moment. If only it wasn’t also the way Sana see’s Momo.

Up until now, Sana and Momo have been attached to the hip, but now Momo is starting to move away. It’s unintentional, but it doesn’t make it less relevant because it leaves Sana wondering where she’s been. They haven’t been talking and that is new for them. What else is new is that Momo doesn’t kiss Sana back.

Because of her growing feelings for Nayeon, it makes sense that she doesn’t want to engage in intimate activities with a girl that isn’t her. Except this creates a problem because Sana and Momo have always had intimacy involved in their relationship. It is what keeps Sana grounded and without that, it leaves Sana confused and doubtful. We start to see Sana’s downfall, it feels almost uncomfortable to read because we watched their relationship grow into what it is present time.

It’s very rare that a relationship forms between someone and their dream girl because we can make them out to be much more than what they really are. However, Momo has dealt with it well. She has seen her good side and has kept her expectations low so that she can see Nayeon for who she truly is. The idea of heartbreak does not faze her because she really does like Nayeon and not in a superficial kind of way.

You might not like Nayeon because she ‘ruined’ Samo, but you can’t say that she didn’t treat Momo like she deserved. Something that Sana can’t truly claim unfortunately.

Their music preference shows just how different Nayeon and Momo are. Nayeon’s taste is more soft and aesthetically pleasing while Momo likes up beat music that gets her out of her own head. The best part is that, they embrace the difference in music style and found a way to appreciate both. Nayeon creates a playlist so that she can never forget what song Momo has requested. It’s possible that she made it so that she can think about any hidden meanings that Momo might have implied when recommending them.

Nayeon drawing a heart while giving a speech about Bona telling her that she was following her heart. She is a smooth mother fucker and if Momo didn’t want to marry her then I would openly be volunteering. Momo is innocent though, especially after spending months thinking that theres no way Nayeon could ever see her like that, if at all. Nayeon spells it out and seals it with a kiss to her cheek. We don’t know Momo’s reaction, but we can guess that she probably combusted into hearts.

Another sign of trouble between Momo and Sana is that Momo didn’t even want to explain about the heart on her arm. She didn’t want to talk about how Nayeon basically confessed her feelings or how Momo must be feeling like she’s flying. It all goes back to the withdrawn emotions that Sana showed Momo when Nayeon started to become a bigger deal. When you are falling for someone, you want to be able to openly gush about it without being told that you’re stupid for it. We’re now starting to see the effect of Sana’s lack of enthusiasm. We, as the reader, know why but Momo does not.

Momo draws to distract herself, when Nayeon enters the room, she no longer needs a distraction. Nayeon has gradually become something that keeps her awake and happy, something that Sana use to claim. Momo isn’t moving on to spite Sana, but to pursue her own happiness. She doesn’t even know that her subtle actions are turning Sana’s world upside down.

Nayeon is willing to break rules if it means getting to have nice moments with Momo. She puts her title as Head Master on the line just to see her smile. Nayeon leads her to the gardens, a place where Sana and Momo once got kicked out of for picking a flower. We learn that Nayeon has a huge thing for flowers and an even bigger thing for Momo. She wants to make memories before she can’t, it’s a good phrase to use especially concerning that their time in high school will be over before they know it.

Although the flowers might die, she will still have Momo.

Back to Samo’s time in the botany club, they planted roses. It’s the same path that Nayeon took her down to. Momo now shares a memory of this place with both Sana and Nayeon. Nether memory better than the other, because at the end of the day they are both her favorite people. It’s just, even Sana’s rose doesn’t match up to Momo’s feelings for Nayeon.

Nayeon has liked her for two years, since Freshmen year if my time line is correct (maybe sophomore year, kinda hard to keep track of when the trio entered the school). It’s roughly around the same time that Momo has started crushing on her two. Momo leaves Nayeon feeling nervous and flustered, the feelings are mutual. It’s a healthy balance of equal feelings that leave them happier with each minute passing.

We get our first proper piece of evidence that Momo doesn’t see Sana as a romantic partner. “This is how it’s supposed to feel” meaning that she had never felt ‘sparks’ or whatever you want to refer the anxious butterfly feeling you get when you finally get to kiss the girl. It’s up to you to figure your own reasoning behind why Momo kept it going, I’ve already given mine.

We get our precious nervous Momo who forgets to breathe and I just love how this scene brings everything together.

What brings us back to earth is that Momo didn’t even explain to Sana that it was a trick and she had spent time with Nayeon instead. It was the start of Momo putting her own happiness in front of Sana’s happiness, if only it didn’t disturb the balance of their friendship. Sana waits for Momo in a situation where Momo would not be coming this time. It reflects this thing that they had. Sana waits for Momo to get over Nayeon and come back to her despite the fact that Momo is now happy with Nayeon and not coming back in that sense.

I want to point out that Momo had never once cared about who saw her kiss Sana- meanwhile, she has created a secret routine with Nayeon that involves kissing in secret. Secret being that her best friends hate Nayeon minus Mina. Kissing Nayeon weighs more than her previous kisses with Sana.

Momo ditches Sana and Jeongyeon’s movie night to go to Nayeon’s room- something she could have done any other night. It’s an act that goes without notice to anyone that this is now a serious affair. Besides the weeks of spending free time with her, or ditching class with her, this is the first time we see Momo blow Sana off. She does it without any hesitation because they’re her friends and they should understand that this thing with Nayeon is serious business. She doesn’t think about Sana’s feelings, because she still only sees her as a friend and nothing more.

“Sex is different with Nayeon. It’s better with feelings” (This phrase speaks for itself)

We’ve now entered the breaking point where Sana realizes just how fucked she is. She has to pretend like she totally isn’t in love with Momo because that would ruin the friendship (as this often goes, telling the truth might have actually saved the heartache that Sana experienced. No one ever likes to talk about their feelings out of fear though.

The downfall of indulging yourself in intimacy always comes when the other person meets someone else who isn’t you. Sana’s harsh reality is that Momo isn’t hers. She never properly was despite years and years of telling herself that she was. All those months of convincing herself and everyone else that the Momo’s crush was harmless is now coming to destroy every aspect of her spirit. Meanwhile, Momo has no idea.

No matter how close Nayeon and her get, it doesn’t lessen the fact that Momo really does love and care for Sana. When she shows concern for Sana’s well-being, we know it’s real. What we get in return though, is Sana finally bringing of Momo relationship with Nayeon.

If their friendship didn’t appear on thin ice before, it does now. We see Momo as a stuttering mess while trying to explain that she was going to tell her. Something kept her from telling her. Maybe it was the idea that with Momo dating someone she really likes then itll mean change. Nobody likes change.

Sana goes along with Momo’s happiness because that’s what best friends do.

The nail polish dilemma is a nice touch on Stormy’s part to show that despite the fact that Sana is trying to choose the right thing (getting over Momo) she still ends up picking the option that will lead her to Momo.

She gets a slap to the face when Momo comes stumbling in with Nayeon, obviously about to have sex. It’s a reminder that she isn’t Momo’s.

Party’s in the past have been used to provide a nice distraction, in this case it is a distraction made for Sana to forget about Nayeon. Momo knows her well though, knows that this party is a really bad idea. Nobody should drink when they’re dealing with a shit load of emotions after all.

Im “Head Girl” Nayeon giving Momo a hickey because she wants to make sure the student body knows that Momo is taken is a nice image. Having Sana be the one to cover it up (symbolism for the fact that she’s trying to prevent that) is kinda cruel.

What’s crueler is that Momo kissed Sana as a consequence for being picked. It’s an unintentional stab in the heart that Momo doesn’t even know she’s doing. The kiss was intended to be playful, but Sana will never be able to see it as playful. Not when Momo says she has had better kisses while looking at Nayeon. Her grasp on Momo is rapidly depleting and Sana doesn’t know how to cope because she has always had an excellent grasp on her.

They had spent years growing up together, just the two of them. Sana doesn’t know how to live without Momo being hers because she never has had to before. It’s an unhealthy attachment that is no longer innocent and is threatening to tear Sana apart at any moment.

Now Sana has to deal with being alone for the first time since she was a child crying alone in the sandbox. Lessons that she should have learned (like learning how to share and adapt) were not taught. Dahyun is there though to be the shoulder for her to cry on though. Dahyun always ends up being there for Sana when everyone else is busy in their own little world. Too bad Sana doesn’t notice this.

We get another friendly reminder that Momo did want to go make sure Sana was okay, but when the girl you love is with you- it’s hard to keep track of other things. We get a nice little moment where Nayeon admits to warming up to Momo’s friends and even Jeongyeon. Momo really does bring out the best in her.

Momo asking Nayeon if she cared that she kissed Sana shows a significant level of impact her response would have. To Momo it was just another thing to do with Sana, she probably didn’t think about the consequences until she was reminded that Nayeon was next to her and that they were kinda sorta dating. She’s worried that she screwed up with Nayeon. She didn’t even take into account that maybe she screwed up with Sana too.

We talk a lot about Sana so much that we forget that Momo is at fault too.

Nayeon hits the message home in a way that Sana had not- She wanted to be the only one to kiss Momo. If Sana had realized her feelings sooner, there is that ‘if’ possibility that things might have ended differently.

It’s easy to understand why Momo doesn’t talk about her feelings for Nayeon with her friends especially when one of them wants to have an intervention and the other is hopelessly waiting for it to fail (although she would deny it). Jeongyeon is the voice of the reader, exclaiming that Momo’s happiness cannot be real because she isn’t with Sana. Sana isn’t happy so that means Momo should break things off to make her happy- doesn’t sound right but it’s what people want.

Another thing on my list of things I want to know more about is Chaeyoung and Tzuyu and their cute dating life. Stormy im waiting.

Going back to Namo’s previous scene, Momo wants Nayeon to be her only person too. It means putting Nayeon in front of Sana. Them getting together is the step of Momo gaining independence and learning how to be someone who isn’t always tagged up with Sana. It’s endearing to know how smitten they both are over each other.

It’s also important that Momo finally talks about Nayeon to Sana and telling her that she’s taken now. If it had been years in the past, maybe Momo would have caught onto the fact that Sana really wasn’t happy for her. She wanted the conversation to end, not even wanting to hear what her best friend had to say. Even if her best friend is pouring her heart out.

Going back to Sana feeling insignificant if she is not the center of attention to Momo, having to deal with the two dating brings back the relevant feeling. I can’t say that Samo would have ended up together if Nayeon wasn’t written in- there’s too many gray areas. We just know that Sana doesn’t know how to cope with what she’s feeling because she really did build her life up around Momo. However, Momo didn’t do the same.

It’s that feeling of pain that makes her feel like pushing Momo away is the easiest thing to do.

Sana has to watch Momo hurt because of it.

It becomes a center for her self-hatred- one that she uses against Dahyun for having the nerve to bring up her feelings about Momo. The nerve of reminding her when she had just spent a night crying over her. Dahyun didn’t deserve this, she had been so good to Sana. Sana is too caught up with Momo though to see the world around her. It went from being innocent to not so innocent after 14 years of thinking about Momo and only Momo.

Momo does what she knows, that’s accept Sana for who she is and love her unconditionally. Momo is convinced that it’s all her fault for becoming so wrapped up in Nayeon that she neglected her. It’s not the reason, Sana already feels abandoned and hopelessly in love. Momo does what she can though, despite the fact that it’s not enough anymore.

We get insight on how much Nayeon liked Momo through the usage of Dahyun. Nayeon is serious about Momo, just as we watched her be.

Dahyun is able take the weight off of Momo’s shoulders in making Sana feel better. It’s another fact just how unselfish she can be.

Sana continues to spiral downwards despite everyones best interest. It includes subtly pushing everyone away when shes low because she feels like this is her problem to deal with. She neglects the fact that you can’t control how you feel nor the strength of said feelings. She blames herself is pretty much in full punishment mode now.

But she is a person that feeds off of affection and people doing things for her. It’s a characteristic that can be a vice or virtue depending on how you look at it. So she keeps Dahyun company because she goes to a lot of effort for her the way Momo use to. I’m not saying she is trying to replace Momo, but she’s trying to find a substitute regardless.

It’s alright until it isn’t.

Because she’s using Dahyun’s kindness. She tries to display affection towards Dahyun to see if Momo will look at her and realizing that she is jealous over Sana being with someone else. Momo is too busy asleep in the arms of Nayeon, but Jeongyeon is there. She knows what Sana is doing. Sana is aware herself that she is using Dahyun but she is too far gone to care. She is slowly becoming a toxic person, but not the extent that the reader would hate her, quite opposite. We still relate to her. We still want her to come out victorious. I’ve seen enough readers defend Sana’s actions and believe that Momo MUST feel the same.

In a way, we ignore the message that Stormy is trying to send by believing in our own belief that things must end in a happy ending for all characters. That’s not what this story is about though.

Another party, another opportunity for Sana to get shit face and try to avoid her issues by creating new ones. She hides that mindset with a false positive idea that she is starting to become okay again. It goes well until drunk Sana and drunk Momo are talking and Momo is being the absolute Best person by thanking her for the years of friendship.

She’s holds such a pure and powerful love for Sana and she does try her best to make sure that Sana knows it.

Sana thinks her last kiss is the peck that Momo didn’t return and it makes me wonder if she remembers the make out session at the last party. The “I’ve had better” line that broke her. It was their last actual kiss, even if it was a dare.

Drunk Sana has proven to be dumb and impulsive. She takes her pain and tries to make Momo see what she’s missing out on. It’s gut-wrenching to see that she has to use Dahyun in order to attempt this. It’s no secret that Dahyun cares about her a lot. Maybe her blushing frequently means she might be crushing on Sana on the low key. She’s nervous about the kiss, maybe she has thought about accepting Sana’s offer for kissing her before?

Sana kisses her to make Momo jealous- except Momo doesn’t even look. She’s too busy being with Nayeon, the girl who unconditionally makes her happy and has done so since they met. There is no need for either to put the others feelings before their own because there is a mutual understanding that they both need their own happiness.

Sana takes Dahyun’s caring nature and throws it back into her face. Sana disregarded her emotions and chose to act selfishly on a whim.

Sana doesn’t even contemplate the idea that Dahyun might have had feelings- didn’t even stop to think what kissing her would do. Dahyun sets her straight though in a way that nobody has gotten the courage to do yet. She hurt Dahyun- a girl who has spent her entire time in this fic explaining that she is straight and that she knows Sana wants Momo. So it’s no wonder that Dahyun responds by saying the only thing that she knows will hurt Sana. A girl who made her realize a scary truth and get heartbroken in the process.

That it’s not her fault Momo doesn’t love her back.

Too bad Nayeon heard this.

It’s something that she can’t process enough to mention it to Momo. Let alone it’s something that she shouldn’t have heard to begin with. I agree that it wasn’t Nayeon’s right to out Sana’s feelings- it’s different when Samo found out Jeongyeon’s girlfriend was cheating on her. Sana wasn’t in a relationship with Momo, as far as Nayeon knows, they had always been just friends.

You can’t tell your girlfriend that her best friend likes her too (at least not before she does it). It’s just not right, I don’t think Nayeon would know how to begin with that conversation.

Instead she chooses to keep Momo close so that she can be the one to make Momo’s heart flutter. I don’t think it’s out of a selfish need to keep Momo away from Sana. I think it’s just her way of making sure Momo knows that she cares and will be there for her when the time comes that she does find out.

We get to the end of the chapter with arguably the most cliff hanger ending to a one-shot. My own interpretation is that Momo is forgetting how important Sana is to her. I don’t think she is forgetting that she loves her romantically or that she has feelings for her- but that she has lost touch with what made her attached to Sana in the first place.

There are aspects of this fic that do not feel like it wrapped up- it’s what Stormy intended based on her tweets. We keep talking about it because we don’t have the answers (she does of course). As someone who likes proper endings, I do hope we get closure for this. I just wouldn’t hold my breath. Sometimes you just gotta let things go.

What I won’t let go is that we didn’t get closure for Sana or Dahyun. BUT. To each it’s own : )

Tl;dr Sana and Momo aren’t going to and never should end up together because it’s for the best for both of them.

#namo #Fool's Gold

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rlc19 · 7 years

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Get to Know Me

Originally an ask thing, I’m turning this into a tag. So yeah. Here we go. Also, it’s a pretty decent size, so be prepared for that.

1) What images do you have set for your desktop/cell phone wallpapers?

A black backdrop on my laptop, and a witchy-looking bookshelf for my cellphone.

2) Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?

Yes.

3) What was your last text message?

“Hokay, see you soon!” to my roommate.

4) What do you see yourself doing in 10 years?

I honestly don’t know. I would like to be a published author who sells reasonably well, but chances are I’ll either have found my way into teaching comparative religions or creative writing, or I’ll still be working for the same coffee shop chain.

5) If you could be anywhere else right now, where would you be?

Real place? With Buddy.

Fictional place? Beacon Academy

6) What was your coolest Halloween costume?

A dark priest. Pretty generic tbh.

7) What was your favorite 90′s show?

Sabrina the Teenage Witch

8) Who was your last kiss?

I don’t honestly remember.

9) Have you ever been stood up?

No.

10) Favorite ice cream flavor?

Chocolate chip cookie dough.

11) Have you been to Las Vegas?

Yes, and I really want to go back.

12) Your favorite pair of shoes?

My combat boots.

13) Honestly, have you ever cheated on your significant other?

This question requires me to have been in a serious committed relationship at some point in my lifetime, so no, I have not.

14) What is your favorite fruit? Lemons.

15) Have you talked to anyone on tumblr that you could see yourself dating/having sex with? If possible?

I mean, I aggressively have feelings for Dylan.

16) Are you into hookups? Short or long term relationships?

Not into hookups, and definitely long term relationships.

17) Do you smoke? If so, what?

I do not, no.

18) What do you do to get over your anger?

Watch YouTube videos or a show that I love.

19) Do you believe in God?

I do believe he exists, but I do not personally believe in him. My faith lies with the Gaulish deities.

20) Does the person you’re in love with know it?

I’m not in love with anyone, so no.

21) Favorite position?

Being horizontal, curled up against my body pillow. I don’t care if that’s not the answer you’re looking for, it’s the answer you’re getting. Moving right along.

22) What’s your horoscope sign?

Tropical Zodiac: I am a Sagittarius sun, Scorpio moon, Sagittarius rising.

Sidereal Zodiac: Ophiuchus. (I don’t know much about the Sidereal Zodiac, tbh).

23) Your fears?

Failure, the future, being stuck in the same job for an extended period without moving forward in my life, dying.

24) How many pets do you have? What kind?

1 asshole cat who I love dearly.

25) What never fails to turn you on?

Heterochromia and pillow-y man bosoms.

26) Your idea of a perfect first date?

I really want to have a picnic in the woods or by a lake on a slightly overcast day that’s like, 65 degrees, with maybe a slight breeze.

27) What is something most people don’t know about you?

The most calming sound to me is that of running water, such as fountains, waterfalls, and waves.

28) What makes you feel the happiest?

Spending time out and about in nature.

29) What store do you shop at most often?

Fry’s Food and Drug.

30) How do you feel about oral? Giving and/or receiving?

Idk bruh? Yeah, I don’t know, this would require experimentation I haven’t as of yet had the opportunity to participate in.

31) Do you believe in karma?

In something like it, yes.

32) Are you single?

Hella single.

33) Do you think flowers or candy are a better way to apologize?

Candy for apologies, although I’ll never say no to flowers either.

34) Are you a good swimmer?

Decent.

35) Coffee or tea?

Por que no los dos?

36) Online shopping or shopping in person?

For clothes and books, in person. For electronics, online.

37) Would you rather be older or younger than your current age?

If I had to pick one, younger.

38) Cats or Dogs?

Again, por que no los dos?

39) Are you a competitive person? Not generally, but I can be.

40) Do you believe in aliens?

Not particularly.

41) Do you like dancing?

Yes.

42) What kind of music do you listen to?

Quite a range of genres, ranging from country, to metal, to Celtic folk, to dubstep, to classical.

43) What is your favorite cartoon character?

Raven from the Teen Titans.

44) Where are you from?

Arizona.

45) Eat at home or eat out?

Eat at home.

46) How much more social are you when you’re drunk?

I’m not, I sleep or get really quiet in the corner.

47) What was the last thing you bought for yourself?

Dinner.

48) Why do you think your followers follow you?

Because they are my friends irl.

49) How many hours do you sleep at night?

On average, 8-9. It’s death, without the commitment.

50) What worries you most about the future?

The fact that I don’t know where I’ll be. I kind of failed at setting goals for myself up until this point, so currently it’s just a gray fog staring bleakly back at me until I figure out what I want to do with my life.

51) If you had a friend that spoke to you the same way you speak to yourself, how long would you be friends?

Not very long. I’m working on being nicer to myself, but I’m pretty hard on myself and pretty negative, so yeah.

52) Are you happy with yourself?

No, but I’m getting there, it’s something I’m actively working on.

53) What do you wish you didn’t know?

The Ouroboros story by Unsettling Stories. I really can’t do auto-cannibalism.

54) What big lesson could people learn from your life?

Your will to live is like Hope (the Hope trapped at the bottom of Pandora’s Box/Pithos), it cannot be taken from you, you must give it up freely yourself. And no matter what happens, if you trust in your will to live, you can survive.

55) If you could live in any home on a television series, what would it be?

The house from Charmed, I really want that kitchen.

56) What’s your favorite website?

YouTube.

57) What’s the habit you’re proudest of breaking?

Using fiction as an extended escapist retreat from reality. I still do use fiction as an escape, but not in an unhealthy manner like I had been.

58) What was your most recent trip of more than 50 miles?

To Phoenix to visit the Misty.

59) What’s the best bargain you’ve ever found at a garage sale or thrift store?

A copy of La Peau de chagrin by Honoré de Balzac.

60) What do you order when you eat Chinese food?

Sweet and Sour Chicken, or Orange Chicken.

61) If you had to be named after one of the 50 states, which would it be?

Uhm...Maine?

62) If you had to teach a subject to a class, what would it be?

Mythology.

63) Favorite kind of chips?

Ruffles chips with ranch dip.

64) Favorite kind of sandwich?

Reuben.

65) Which do you use more often, the dictionary or the thesaurus?

Dictionary.

66) Have you ever been stung by a bee?

Nope.

67) What’s your favorite form of exercise?

Kickboxing.

68) Are you afraid of heights?

Heights? No. Falling? Yes.

69) What’s the most memorable class you’ve ever taken?

Advanced Fiction.

70) What’s your favorite breakfast?

Bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit.

71) Do you like guacamole?

Not particularly.

72) Have you ever been in a physical fight?

Yes.

73) What/who are you thinking about right now?

The fact that Kara Eberle and Jason David Frank are going to be at Phoenix Comicon, which I will be going to.

74) Do you like cuddling?

For the most part, yes.

75) Are you holding onto something you need to let go of?

OH YEAH, LIKE DON’T EVEN JOKE WITH ME ON THIS ONE. I mean, yeah, sure, maybe like one thing...

76) Have you ever experienced one of your biggest fears?

No, but I’ve come close.

77) Favorite city you’ve been to?

Either Munich, a little medieval town in France that I cannot for the life of me remember the name of, or Anaheim.

78) Would you break the law to save a family member?

If it was my brother, sister-in-law, or niece, yes. Otherwise, no.

79) Talk about an embarrassing moment?

I haven’t really done anything SUPER embarrassing, just small stuff, so I don’t really have anything for you here.

80) Are there any causes you strongly believe in?

Equal rights for everyone, and saving plant and animal life.

81) What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

I melted the skin, tendons, and ligaments in my right hand when I was 4. I’m honestly lucky I still have the use of my right hand.

82) Favorite day of the week?

Friday, and not because it’s the last day of the work week. It’s the day when people are excited for the weekend, and it generally just has an overall more positive feel to it than other days of the week.

83) Do you consider yourself sexually open minded?

I would say so.

84) How do you feel about porn?

For the most part, I have positive feelings about it.

85) Which living celebrity would you like to know?

So, this is a hard question, and I don’t honestly know 100%, but I’ll say Ricky Martin.

86) Who was your hottest ex?

So, tbh, I don’t think any of my exes were “hot”, they were attractive but not “hot”. But to answer the question, I’ll say Austin.

87) Do you want/have kids?

No thank you.

88) Has anyone ever told you that they wanted to marry you?

Romantically, no.

89) Do you get easily distracted?

Yes, very easily.

90) Ass or titties?

Pillow-y man bosoms, 100%. But I wont’ say no to a nice ass, either.

91) What is your favorite word?

Kerfuffle.

92) How do you feel about tattoos?

I quite enjoy them.

93) Do you have any pets?

Please refer back to question 24.

94) How tall are you?

5′10″

95) How old are you?

22 years old.

96) 3 physical features you get complimented on a lot?

My eyes, my fingernails, the length of my fingers.

97) Is there anything you’re really passionate about? Literature, mythology, and religion.

98) Do you have trust issues?

Somewhat?

99) Do you believe in love at first sight?

No, I believe in lust at first sight.

100) What are some words that you live by? Why?

One life is all we have and we live it as we believe in living it. But to sacrifice who you are, and to live without belief, that is a fate more terrible than dying.

Because it’s a good reminder to live for yourself, not someone else.

So yeah, there you go, 100 things to get to know me. I’m going to tag @rogue-one-drinks-coffee, @fannibalgirl92, @sassmastercrane, and @dustychica, and anyone else who wants to do the thing (but don’t feel like you have to).

#questions #tagging games

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riichardwilson · 4 years

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11 Ways to Overcome Fear During a Crisis

July 30, 2020 12 min read

Opinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.

1. Name the fear

Related: 8 Powerful Phrases Leaders Need to Say in a Time of Crisis

2. Use fear to fuel your courage

3. Remember the past

4. Think past the crisis

Related: You Can’t Do Everything, and If You Try to You’ll Do Even Less

5. Invest in “alive time”

Could you use the extra time your business has to retool your systems, train your team, or build new products and services?

6. Build your fear muscle

7. Reevaluate what makes you unique

In a crisis, you can combat fear as you find your new niche and let others know how you can solve their problems.

Related: How Entrepreneurs Can Find Clarity in Uncertain Times

8. Identify what you can — and can’t — control

9. See fear positively

10. Find the opportunity

Related: How Three Different Tech Companies Are Tackling the Common Fight Against Coronavirus

11. Don’t give up

Your company may be on the brink, but is there a way to pivot that gives you a second chance?

There is always hope

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source http://www.scpie.org/11-ways-to-overcome-fear-during-a-crisis/ source https://scpie.tumblr.com/post/625136102521651201

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lifedefused · 4 years

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New Post has been published on Life Defused

New Post has been published on http://lifedefused.com/i-dont-think-about-you/

I Don't Think About You

After Sean’s suicide, I was emotionally wrecked. I hit the road with Roxy and my jeep to clear my head. To figure out life. It was liberating and healing.Then I met Matt. This guy standing in front of me had gone and lived overseas for 2 years after his divorce to sort through life. I was in awe. I felt inspired. But I ran. He invited me for waffles. No thanks, Taco Bell and a night in my car instead. Curious… There are people that travel like me to explore life, after all, what is the meaning?

I think of it like my cats. These jerks go hide when someone comes over. However, sometimes they come out and watch them. They want affection. They want to see who they are. They want to trust. They stay just far away not to be grabbed or touched. Rubbing on furniture meowing for attention. They want affection from these people. They want to test the water to see what these humans might do to them.

That was me to Matt. Yet Matt was the human that sat down and said I will just sit here with you, I don’t have to connect. I purr… I enjoy having this human’s attention. Eventually, I come closer and closer. He pulls out the toys and I start playing. I enjoy our time together. He sees me. He tells me if I can just exist with you, I promise not to hurt you. Anytime you get scared, I go. So I swat him when he gets closer. Sometimes I use my claws to see what he does. Interesting… He stays. I start to trust him. Let down the walls. Not, I will even flop over on my back for this human to touch my belly. The moment I do that, it all changes.

You see I trusted him. I allowed myself to be vulnerable. We get married and I follow his career to Japan giving up my apartment, my career, my pets. When I get there, I still run and hide when I get scared. I won’t let anyone else know I have trusted him and that I am married again. Yet, I realize that isn’t him, that’s my issues and baggage I carry. I want to be better so I do what I know to do to clear my head and my heart. I go to explore the world around me. It is what I do. It is who I was when he met me. I think travel is the best teacher to discover the world reveal the powers within.

Upon my return, something was off with Matt and I felt it at my core. At first, I thought it was me and my changes. Until I found the messages from her. This human that had spent over a year building up trust crushes me in an instant. 3 days of looking me in the eyes promising that nothing happened and I find out from another source that this person was in my space, my world, with my man, and in my home.

It was my fault according to him. For every outburst of anger, for hiding my marriage, for needing time to myself, I caused this. “How men cheat is by dealing with the reality that they’ve hurt another by denying it. You don’t have to deal with something that is not a reality to you.”

Do I stay or do I go? This was one of the hardest questions I have ever faced. He promises-if you stay I will do ANYTHING, anything at all that you need. How would I admit after 4 months of being married that I failed, again? Options: I can return to the US with no job, no car, no place to go, and no way can I ask for my pets back. If you ever would have told me before this happened that I would stay with a cheater. NO WAY. Anyone that knows me would probably think the same thing. But I did. I stayed.

I put my heart and soul into transforming myself. This girl was 20 and I was 29, to make sure it didn’t happen again, I needed to change my body. I got into running. I worked out 2-3 times a day. I juiced. I found healthy recipes to make. I found photos from that time labeled “before” dated shortly after the affair. I am sharing because at this time I hated my body and I blamed myself and I couldn’t stand how I look. The affair took away all of my self-esteem. I was a confident human before but after I felt like I wasn’t attractive, intelligent, or in any way interesting. Just looking at this picture brings up so much sadness as my body is beautiful. At the time, I wasn’t sure that I would ever be lovable again.

My request was that I have access to all of his accounts, that he go to therapy, and that he commits to building back that trust. I wanted him to sit on the floor again and just exist around me so I could warm-up to trusting again. Three appointments in, he quit therapy and told me I needed to go with him or he wasn’t going. My response was that this was his mistake to fix, not mine, especially 4 months into a marriage.

After he quit therapy, I begged him to quit his job and move back to the US and let me build my career why he sorts through it. I had so much anxiety. I kept pushing forward. I started a doctorate program and started teaching too. I isolated myself from friends/family. I hadn’t even told people we had gotten married, how would I explain my situation? I was humiliated and I was betraying myself. My connections to people are one of my greatest assets and something I work incredibly hard at. However, I hid. I cried alone. I told people I was fine and I pulled away rarely reaching out to anyone scared they might ask how I am doing.

Anger is an understatement. I raged on Matt physically lashing out and spewing venom in the form of words and digging my claws and teeth in. I was already an explosive wreck after the suicide but this situation took my anger to a whole new level. It shattered everything I thought I knew about myself. I became a human that I didn’t even recognize.

Of course, this triggered Matt to lash out and return the rage.

One point I almost left Matt. Instead, I got individual therapy to stop the rage and I got a handle on my explosive reactions. My thought for therapy was that if I stopped lashing out that he would step up. I could set an example of change. I stopped and returned to the relationship re-committing myself.

Matt didn’t stop the raging and blaming me though. He even made the choice without me to continue in his job even though I had expressed I was done putting my career on hold and I was ready to return to the US.

The next year, I made the decision to return. My thinking was that if I showed Matt a good life in the US maybe he would have reason to get help and make an effort to repair the damages done, take responsibility, and to stop blaming me.

It was time to take care of myself and put the focus back on me. I needed to take control of my life again. Taking part of the blame when I wasn’t to blame was disorienting. I found myself busy trying to find myself back to the person that I once was. It wasn’t my responsibility to carry anymore. Matt has the burden of the destruction that his cheating caused. The minute I pulled back to focus on myself, Matt started slipping in the opposite direction of what I had intended. He became depressed and withdrawn.

I continued to beg him to go to therapy for help. February I put out the ultimatum, get help or I am done for good. Early March I showed him the divorce paperwork to show how serious I was. Towards the end of March, I filed when I had reason to think he was having an affair again. So much for doing ANYTHING I needed to stay and make me feel safe again. The next day, he made an appointment for therapy. Too little too late.

I connect to music and this is what I put on repeat for anyone else that needs to hear this:

youtube

To prove to me he wasn’t cheating, he asked me to log in to his social media to see a conversation. In the short time that I was in there, a female student called him. I lost it. I took over all of Matt’s accounts. I reached out to his family and told them that I felt like he could use support since I would no longer be there. Matt told them not to reach out and that he was fine. His family lashed out of me. I outed all of his family secrets. I literally lost my sense to be rational. I even sent messages to his family like I was him. I spent most of April mourning the loss of my marriage and getting control of my emotions. COVID hit so I was forced to confront my feelings head-on and I started therapy again.

Of course, according to Matt, I am to blame. I quit on us and on him when he needed me the most. I can’t help but feel sad. I gave all of myself and wanted so much for it to work. Even though I filed a part of me held on to the thought that maybe he would return to just existing there while I bite and claw with the promise to never hurt me again. Showing up daily and just sitting there with me patiently doing what is needed to allow me to start trusting him again.

Since we have the house he has at least agreed to help financially contribute in the short term which that comes at a cost to me in the long term. I hadn’t talked to him in a few weeks and this past weekend Matt violated our separation agreement without communicating with me. We can’t even be separated without him disregarding something he signed in writing. Another broken commitment and promise. Sunday I cried more than I have cried in my entire life in a 24 hour period. Turning to music for support and just to relate.

And that is why I am writing this today. I know this doesn’t fit the norm of not airing out your dirty laundry. I have never been one that hides the bad. Social media tells us that we have to paint a picture of life is grand. However, I know every time I share I find people that can relate. So, yes I lost my cool, yes I am imperfect, yes I went bat shit crazy at times, I wasn’t perfect and I am not free of the responsibility for my part in the failure of my relationship.

What I can promise is I gave it my all and every bit of what I had.

After my music fest on Sunday, today my cousin posted something I desperately needed to hear.

So I am giving myself permission, out loud, to let go. To move on. To heal myself. I am acknowledging that I am ready to see beyond my pain today that I am holding onto and move into love, happiness that is clear of anger and the immense amount of guilt I have felt. Some of that guilt is in the fact I haven’t been honest and true to myself. I didn’t lean onto friends years ago when I needed them most and I believe people take the bad with the good or they don’t deserve you. I have been fighting my way back to myself and I am ready. What happened is my past and can’t be changed. As much as I wanted to control the outcome no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t. I can control my actions and my emotions. I can reflect on what happened and make better decisions moving forward.

My heart is so full being back in Dallas with my people. Just today I had 4 people reach out to me asking for my time this week. They all have heard my stories of my mistakes and they still chose me. They sit with me and show me the love I need to show myself.

I know I’m Superwoman, I know I’m strong I know I’ve got this ’cause I’ve had it all along I’m phenomenal and I’m enough I don’t need you to tell me who to be

Can someone just hold me? Don’t fix me, don’t try to change a thing Can someone just know me? ‘Cause underneath, I’m broken and it’s beautiful

I’m broken and it’s beautiful

Today I chose forgiveness and to stop holding on to what could have been. Today I am leaning on my friends/family claiming out loud that I am working towards healing so that someday I can open my heart to receive love and trust again. For now, you can find me listening to this song over and over until I can wake up one day and every word is true.

youtube

When you’re lost in the moment You can’t see where you going I didn’t who I could trust So I put all my faith in us Oh, you tore me to pieces Turned my strength into weakness I didn’t want it all to fall apart So I decided just to play the part

But honestly, I do it all again Putting up with all the bullshit, he made me strong enough to do this

It used to bother me Thought I could never leave? After all that I’ve been through, nothin’ left to prove No, no, no, I don’t think about you Weighin’ down on me I lost my sanity And now that we are through Nothin’ left to lose No, no, no, I don’t think about you

I feel freedom where I stand now And I feel proud from who I am now Yeah, I learned a lot along the way I love the woman that I became

I was patient, but not anymore He’s back in my hands And you swore I’ll never do it But it’s your turn to face the music

It was hard to hold on Days and nights I thought I’d never make at all Couldn’t make it at all Now I stand tall Feeling like myself again, no worries at all Breathe No one can stop me from livin’ this moment for me I found my heartbeat After all that I’ve been through No, I don’t think about you

It used to bother me (it used to bother me) Thought I could never leave? (Thought I could never leave?) After all that I’ve been through (through) nothin’ left to prove (prove) No, no, no, I don’t think about you Weighin’ down on me (weighin’ down on me) I found my sanity (I found my sanity) And now that we are through (through) Nothin’ left to lose (lose) No, no, no, I don’t think about you

I don’t think about you (no) (No, no, no) no, no, no (Not anymore) not anymore No, no, no I don’t think about you

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