#there was this one time that was kinda traumatic in elementary or so where i opened my car door without looking and injured three people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

galaxythreads · 2 years

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Lore for Black, white, and grey all over pls. read it recently and loved it very VERY MUCH

Your wish is my command, Anon!!

LORE FOR BLACK, WHITE, AND GREY ALL OVER <- LINK TO STORY

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The title is a nod to old prison uniforms in the U.S. that were black and white which when mixed together make grey.

It's also a nod toward this horrible joke that traumatized me a bit as a kid (I was very sensitive) "What's black, white, and red all over?" "A penguin that just fell down the stairs."

Yes, it did take me a year to write this stupid thing

I wrote the first scene completely by hand

(Hold while I go try to find that. update: Could not. Moving on.)

I did a lot of research on being released from prison before writing this and I still feel i fell short in many aspects

TOTAL PAGE COUNT: 91

^^^ final finish time. (yes, i do always put this into the actual documents for the fics and have done this for years)

---

"This is their fault, and she hates them for it.

Forgiveness is a dream, and acceptance a joke.

That's it. Nothing more, nothing less."

this was added after the final edit when I wrote the last few sentences and realized that I needed a tie-in

---

^^^

hello hi, my boy my beloved. (CBS Elementary, detective Marcus bell)

---

"'I'm so sorry we're late!' her stepmother exclaims, coming to stop in front of her. Her father's gripping a walking stick, though she has her doubts that he really needs it. His steal blue eye settles on her face, and Hela pointedly flicks her gaze away from him."

Fun fact, this sequence is actually based off of one of the openings for a draft of Igniting Fire (one where for some reason Isabella was an angry french lady. The draft had problems from the start)

---

"A locked up animal, put away until she might offer further use."

''So I am know more then another stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me?'' (Thor 1)

---

"Thor is what? Twenty now? Twenty-one? Loki seventeen or sixteen. She has lost so much time to these walls. Ten years. Years. Not months, not weeks, but years. Oh, how she can't wait to get off of the U.S.'s soil. She hates it here."

The big time mess was a huge part of Hela's trauma response. She doesn't know how old her brothers are anymore and isn't aware that there's a war going on with her home country, this is the cost of her incarceration and the fact her parents weren't inclined to share this with her is what caused a lot of the friction.

---

At least, it is amusing until he turns to her and says, in what she's certain is without much thought: "You're the foreign princess that killed all those people ten years ago—Lady Death? That's you?"

This. *deep sigh*

I am christian and have been since birth, and one of the things in my sect of christiandom is that we have this really weird...thing against calling anyone a god, even if it's just as a title. (I now find that stupid and silly and am perfectly fine using god as a title/description for a being). I had the hardest time coming to terms with the fact that it could be goddess of death. This wasn't so much a modern adaption of the title -- although it certainly works great -- and more so me being too afraid to step outside of the comfort zone of my religion. it literally felt like I was endorsing the devil. Which is also why a lot of my older works are kinda. Weird sometimes about language. (I tell people that reading my older fics to now is watching me graduate high school and grow up and yeah. still true.)

MOVING ON.

---

"His yellow eyes settle on her, and she feels some relief in the familiarity of that. The infection that took his eyesight before she was born left his irises a sickly yellow color;"

I sincerely doubt that this is possible medically but I'll give it a pass for the Aesthetic TM.

---

Thor looks up at their mother, blowing out a breath, "It's freezing. Can we go?"

I will always defend Thor and Loki not throwing themselves at Hela with hugs and gratitude in this scene until the day I die. Hela is a stranger to them. A stranger who, according to their parents, is a mass murderer.

(Who somehow only served ten years in prison????????????????????)

---

Her stepmother gives her shoulder a quick squeeze—can she stop doing that!?—and smiles reassuringly, "I'm sorry, it's been a long day. They really are glad to see you, I promise."

^^^

Personal note (these stories are riddled with my life, ha, it's always personal), my dad has this habit of always engaging in physical contact whenever he sees me, a touch on the shoulder, pat on the back, etc, and i'm not much of a physical touch person. So that's where this is from.

---

Odin inserts the key into the house and twists it, pushing open the door to the home and steps inside without any restraint. He leans against his walking cane again, but Hela can clearly see nothing is wrong with his leg. It's for show.

I haven't read this story in years, so I can't remember if this made it in there, but Odin's cane is a direct reference to this from BBC's Sherlock.

(update: It did NOT in fact, make it in there)

where you just carry weapons around in your umbrella. Like a normal person.

---

"Six months. Six. And no one bothered to mention this to her before then!? Hela's eyes narrow with frustration and she clenches her fists deeply, "You've been in the US for half a year and didn't think it important to mention to me?" she doesn't bother with keeping her voice calm."

^^^

Yknow. I'm beginning to realize just how terrible odin and frigga are in this. Huh. Half a year and they didn't tell Hela anything or visit her. Pro parenting technique.

---

But really, that's all Odin's good at, isn't it? Abandoning people when they need him.

^^^

HELA.

(but also. TRUE.)

---

"Aunt Freya and Uncle Buri agreed to rule before we left. The citizens are those that forced us out." Frigga explains, rubbing at her forehead softly. "Given a choice, I'm certain that all of us would gladly return to help fend off Laufey, but we can't.

^^^

I do not mean to poke holes in my own story, but this...makes about as much sense as Anna from Frozen dumping the kingdom onto Hans, whom she'd known for about 3 hours.

---

"You claimed him just as much as I." Frigga's voice is ice. "You would do well to remember that it wasn't my decision to keep the adoption a secret from him."

^^^

also beginning to realize this is where my portrayal of Frigga and Odin being a couple that fight all the time started. Depending on my mood, Odin and Frigga CAN strike me as a couple who argue 99% of the time and make you wonder why they don't just get a divorce. But then the 1% of the time makes you realize why they're married.

---

Hela blinks. "You are an idiot."

Odin draws back, "Beg pardon?"

^^^

I love her, your honor.

---

Hela has shifted to sitting on the porch, varying between moodily glaring into the trees or tracing shapes on the cement padding at the bottom of the steps with a bark chip she found two hours ago. She was never much of an artist before she left Asgard, and that hasn't changed since her prison sentence.

^^^

bark-chip drawing on cement was a very serious thing when I was a kid. It was kinda like chalk. Pretty fun. If you ever get the chance to try it, would recommend.

---

She picks up the plastic fork with her left hand, balancing the paper plate on her knees. If she grips anything with her swollen fingers, she doesn't think it will end well. She stuffs in mouthful of salad and once she's swallowed, asks, "And who sent you out to feed the monster?"

^^^

this is a reference to that one post about a girl whose dad slid chocolate underneath her door when she was having her period (or could also have been a person who menstruates, but I think it was a female) and then loudly screeched "I fed the monster" and ran off.

(90% of my sense of humor is tumblr posts on Pinterest, okay?)

---

"Is there a day that you won't forget this?"

Thor grabs the device and offers a sheepish smile, "I don't think so."

Her youngest brother sighs, "You're hopeless."

"Overbearingly." Thor agrees and manages to shove the laptop into the backpack with considerable strain. "Thank you again, brother."

^^^

Guess who intentionally forgot their laptop every day to have some form of an interaction with their distressed sibling???

---

Frigga's gentle face falls some, but she nods anyway with a plastered smile. "That's alright. If you get hungry just grab whatever's available. Except the peanut butter, because Thor hoards it. Sometimes I fear he'll start a war for it."

^^^

THIS. (my fics are FILLED with inside jokes, I'm realizing) is a reference to a fic I read where Thor shoved a peanut butter jar(? unclear) down the drain and clogged the sink and flooded an apartment. Can't remember the exact fic and I am too lazy to look.

---

When Hela was eleven and war was still spoken of quietly and ignored in favor of happier times? No, not then, because Hela's birth mother was murdered in the streets of Serenity, their capital, when she was eleven.

A slaughter worthy of history books. There was so much blood, enough to drown a building in. People often forget that Hela was there, and she saw everything. Odin wasn't. He only saw the aftermath, but Hela...Hela watched Laufey's blade swing and her mother give out that ragged gasp and her own voice crying out "mama!" before it all went south.

^^^

Reference to Porcelain where the same thing happens to Hela.

---

Outside is hot, but it's better. There's noise. Cars in the distance, children screaming as they play, lawnmowers (what is it with people's perpetual desire to care for their lawns at all hours of the day?), and basic white noise. It's disorienting after hearing nothing but the prison for so long, but not unwelcome.

^^^

I will NEVER EVER EVER EVER cease to make angry commentary about lawns and lawnmowing.

---

Ten years of her life wasted for those deaths.

^^^

I am now realizing that Hela probably would have had diplomatic immunity for the deaths. Which means Odin really did leave her there. That's nice.

---

"No husband? At this age?" Mrs. Debar's hold on her rose cutters has loosened. She's not as wary. Something in Hela gives a hollow snapping noise as the question. She'd wanted marriage, but Odin had insisted that it wait until after the war cooled down. She didn't have a particular man in mind, anyway, but she'd wanted it. To start a family, to have a partner that would be hers—and she couldn't. Because she got stuck here, and who would want to marry the insane, murderous, Lady Death? She's been in prison now. No one will want her.

^^^

Two things:

-I will die on the hill that Hela is lesbian -Mrs. Debar is the embodiment of conservative, I think. Or a Karen.

---

I am really enjoying movie dialog woven into this. It's well done.

*pats myself on the back* you're doing amazing sweetie.

---

"Alright, well, I'll be back around six to check on you." Frigga says with a tight smile. "I'll go see if Loki will help me with the cooking. I'm trying to make this meal called lasagna. It's apparently a type of pasta-soup, I've heard of it before and wanted to try it."

^^^

.....i am so confused. They live in Europe somewhere and they're royalty and they've apparently never heard of Italy. Or met Italians?

Europe, according to how Asgard apparently teaches it in this 'verse:

---

"Six-twenty-three, AM." Thor answers without looking up at her, and then adds: "Wednesday. You slept for thirty-six hours straight."

^^^

CBS elementary

In every single one of these, I tell you not to under estimate my love of Elementary but here i am again reminding you to NOT underestimate my love for this stupid little show.

---

Natasha stays until Hela finishes and takes the paperwork from her, assuring Hela that she'll give it to Ms. Hill, the owner of the building.

^^^

I find this endlessly hilarious that Maria Freaking Hill owns a star bucks in this. Like. What was I thinking?

---

"It's Jane." Thor corrects. "Jane Foster." He looks up from his hands and sighs deeply. He's still staring at her strangely. "She's...we are courting, yes, but not with Father's approval. Or Mother's. They don't think I should be making permanent attachments in the U.S., but I just…" Thor looks towards where Jane disappeared to.

^^^

the person Thor was on the phone with at the beginning of this fic was Jane.

----

Hela shrugs. "I'd've told them just to watch the explosion."

^^^

*deep sigh* I'm sorry. The accent of my people shows horribly sometimes.

(WHO PUTS I'D'VE in a sentence like it's all casual---)

---

"YOU LEFT ME HERE!" Hela screams, and grabs a book off of the coffee table and throws it. It smashes against the far wall, pages fluttering as they hit the ground. "I spent TEN YEARS in hell because you refused to help! You didn't even TRY to save me!"

^^^

waiting for this all fic. :)

---

Oh. Whoops. The lies have become a scattered mess in the last few weeks. "I'm—" Hela pauses, trying to come up with a believable excuse. If she went to all the work of getting to the U.S., why would she be leaving?

^^^

*coughs into hand* because it's the U.S.?

---

A ripple of hurt washes through her, strong enough to make tears form on the edges of her eyes. She sets her teeth and forces herself to focus. Sharp tongue. Sharp words. Sharp. "Alright, get out. You're in my Starbucks."

"Your Starbucks?" Thor repeats. "You don't own anything. All you've done is make our parents worry and driven our mother to tears, why should I listen to anything you have to say?"

^^^

THIS. ENTIRE. SCENE.

I am SO impressed with myself for managing to get nearly ALL of thor and Hela's dialog from Ragnarok into this and fit it around STARBUCKS. Like.

*more back patting*

(AND also captured the emotion of the actual scene in the movie, like????????)

---

"I've failed you as a father," Odin starts slowly, carefully, as if he says the wrong thing she'll fall apart before him. Hela only gawks at him. Odin exhales deeply. "I can see that now. I'm a different man today than I was when you were imprisoned, and I am filled with regrets."

"Proud have it, ashamed of how you got it." Hela mutters under her breath, resisting the urge to hug her knees closer.

^^^

ODIN DIDN'T ACTUALLY APOLOGIZE??????? like. DUDE.

asdflkajsd;flkjasdf

----

"Come now," one of the male teens taunts, his nose looks flat and his hair is plastered against his forehead. "tell me honestly what you're thinking you lying freak."

Loki stumbles, landing on one of his elbows hard, but looks up at him. "I don't think you'd like my answer if I did."

^^^

this was one of the first scenes I wrote for the fic. (maybe THE first scene? it's fuzzy now)

---

"I think that Principal Gauntlet is biased."

LOKI'S PRINCIPAL IS THANOS?

---

"You little—" the teen, Ebony apparently, starts before releasing her brother and punching him across the face.

LOKI'S BULLIES ARE THE BLACK ORDER????

---

At the time you were in New York, the gang the police claimed you killed had completely different territory

^^^

and we all know that gangs can't go outside of their assigned territory *clicks tongue* what WOULD we do if they were like normal people and wandered around?

---

An FBI agent walks towards them and wields a badge for her to see Agent Phil Coulson written out in fine print. "Hi. I'm with the FBI, I was part of the team assigned to your case." He glances towards the police woman. "Would you mind giving us a few minutes?"

^^^

COULSON is an FBI agent but MARIA FREAKING HILL Isn't??

---

Agent Coulson sighs, rubbing at his forehead. "Fine, but this could get ugly.

Hela smiles, but it venomous. "Oh, I'm counting on it."

^^^

this entire kidnapping sequence was planned to be much much longer, but I was losing steam toward the end and decided to cut about 80% of it because it helped the flow of the story.

---

She rests a hand on the cold stone, wiping some of the snow away with her pale fingers. She stares at the names for a long time, just breathing, thinking. Then, she pulls the letter she wrote several hours ago out and rests it next to the flowers. Her voice cracks when she speaks, but she still gets the words out. "Rest in peace, Papa, Amma...I forgive you."

^^^

this is the reason that "forgiveness is a joke" is the second line in the story and a lesson on why editing is so important. XD

---

Anyway. okay. That was long. I was basically reading and just commenting as I went. Solid story. Weird bits, as per usual for me, but generally enjoyable.

Link to story again

#answered #black white and grey all over #bwagao #my fics #hela #thor #loki #modern au

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ifellinlovewithpersona · 2 years

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I just woke up to this random Spark AU headcanon and I think it's kinda funny so I thought I'm gonna share :P (I guess you guys didn't expected that, huh? Cause I clearly didn't-)

So yeah, remember the time in P5 when Ren got arrested and almost shot (in October)? In contrary to his canon parents who didn't give a shit at all, I think Maya would be very concerned about her son's mental health and wellbeing after this traumatic incident so she would actually go into online office mode at work and move to Tokyo for like a month just to not leave Ren alone and be able to check on him after that trauma (Also I headcanon her that she liked to work from Leblanc during that time cause the cafe had "positive energy" in her opinion plus it was easier for her to check if Ren is okay that way, plus even if Naoya couldn't do the same in his job, he was also coming to Tokyo in weekends to check on them both)

Anyway that's just a setup cause my headcanon is about something else xD

So basically, Ren was just meeting his friends and do Phantom Thief work at that time (his parents already knew about him being a Phantom Thief of course) so he wasn't with his mom 24/7 and he only knew that she's working while he's away with friends but not much besides that

Anyways, fast forward couple months to that infamous Strikers scene when Makoto let Haru drive:

Ren: *having intense Vietnam flashbacks from that one time in elementary school when Naoya was on buisness trip and Ren was too lazy to take the bus to school, so he let Maya drive him to school and almost died* Where-where did you learn to drive like that, Haru?

Haru: Oh you know, when your mom was in Tokyo she was kinda bored besides her job so I asked her if she could teach me how to drive!

Ren: My mom did WHAT-?

So yeah, that's my random headcanon - Haru is terrible driver because Maya was the one who taught her how to drive XD

#my headcanons #spark au #finally some spark au content after such a long time haha #persona 5 #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #haru okumura #maya amano

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wordstro · 1 year

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man ur gang aus always break my heart ooooof😭😭😭😭like, the yeosang one is still one of my favorite works of yours, if not out there in general, and i recently reread the mingi one and it HURT.

but i am very very excited to see where ur gonna take this au!! never fail to love ur wooyoung characterizations, he's always a little (or a lot) terrible and evil, but he also has that little edge to him that makes you do a double take. very interested in where ur gonna take him and san!

apropos, oh san. u stupid selfless little bastard. i also always love how u depict gang dynamics and just how easily people slip into that world, or rather are pulled into it. and u never romanticize it either, which makes me appreciate it all even more!!!

btw, i saw the description and was like "damn, they took people asking for a toxic romance w itpfl!hj to heart" jfdjdgjgdfjs good for u!! speaking of the devil, the second hongjoong spoke a word my brain immediately went "good job" can u TELL just how much "i want to go home" traumatized me??😭😭 ur horrible, irredeemable little hongjoongs are always a delight to read but also.....really scary mbfngdsjsfh

that glimpse of seonghwa has me intrigued, and while moral corruption always depresses the hell out of me i'm vv excited to see his relationship w the mc develop!!!

thank u for the chapter and i'm excited to see what's coming for us! <33

🍋 anon

omg thank youuuuu 😭❤️ the yeosang gang au is actually one of my favorite fics that i’ve written. it’s so sad but i really liked the characterization surrounding everyone in it. i LOVE writing gang aus. something about how gritty and dark the setting is makes it SO fun to just go crazy with the angst.

ahhhh i’m glad you like wooyoung’s characterizations!!!! wooyoung is just guaranteed to be a little shit in all my fics but i like to make him soft at times too :( that’s my sagittarius king right there :( this fic is too redeem san from itpfl hahahah but also the downfall of san is going to be a bit tragic i think :(

omg regarding the gang dynamics thank you!!! i don’t like romanticizing settings like this because it’s really not romantic in any way. also those anti-gang joining assemblies from elementary school have lived in my head rent free for years lol

NOT THE I WANT TO GO HOME TRAUMA IM SO SORRY!!!!! something about hongjoong makes it so EASY to write him as an evil toxic person. like it’s so scary but also the thought is kinda h*t

thank you sooo much for reading and taking the time to send this 😭❤️

#🍋 anon #answered

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gas-stxtion · 2 years

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@freeddead said: 11 for spencer

(rough childhood questions - open)

11. was there anyone who was a shining light for your muse? Ie. was there any adult who they could genuinely rely on / trust?

//Time to be a filthy fucking jencer stan on main- Okay, jokes aside, growing up, there weren’t really any adults that Spencer could rely on or trust. At most, the guidance counselor at his school TRIED, but the shitty small town where he grew up was not equipped to handle his situation, neither his mental health struggles nor the abuse he faced. For the most part, the townspeople’s approach to Spencer Middleton was to say a prayer for him and call it a day, not to actually intervene in any meaningful way. And so, from a young age, Spencer learned not to trust the adults around him, and he didn’t see any of them as being capable OR willing to do anything for him.

However, there was one person he trusted and relied on for much of his childhood: Jack.

Jack and Spencer were far from the only kids even in their grade alone that were in abusive or otherwise unhealthy situations, but they found common ground with each other when they couldn’t with pretty much anyone else. Because Jack also learned at a young age that the adults around him couldn’t be trusted to help him when he really needed. And so, Jack and Spencer were, for their elementary school years, pretty much each other’s only support systems. When they could, they would sneak away from their homes and make their way to the playground of their school, where they would spend hours just sitting next to each other underneath a specific tree, enjoying some peace.

Neither of them ever talked with the other about their situations, but they didn’t have to. Spencer and Jack saw each other’s injuries, and they just kinda... knew. I think they probably exchanged maybe a handful of complete sentences over the course of their friendship with each other, probably not even admitting that they WERE friends, but it was the closest bond either of them had for a long time.

Unfortunately, though, it did fall apart. Not with a dramatic fight or anything, but just... naturally, the two drifted apart. Jack was placed in foster care and his situation began to improve (at least a little), and he was told to stay away from Spencer Middleton, the freak, the monster, his rotten classmate who could only hurt others. I don’t think Jack ever completely believed what he was told about Spencer, not after how close they were when they were younger, but as his situation got better, the two spent less and less time together. And, of course, Spencer’s situation only grew worse as he got older, and he became angrier and angrier, more and more bitter.

Ultimately, Spencer’s anger culminated when he was 18 and burned his childhood home to the ground with his parents inside, shortly before he left town. He came back, of course, but that was the last impression he left on Jack before the events of the series.

So, yeah, to answer the question: he did have one person he trusted growing up, but that person wasn’t an adult--instead, the only one he felt he could trust was another traumatized child he felt a bond with.

To clarify, yes, this is part headcanon, part AU on my part, but shsh let me have fun. Spencer and Jack being close when they were younger adds an interesting new dimension to their dynamic in canon, and you can quote me on that.

#freeddead #//i have a lot more thoughts on this actually but i didn't wanna turn this into an 8 page essay #//but yeah also thinking like. huh. i wonder if spencer was jealous of sabine #//because jack and sabine grew closer as he and spencer drifted apart #//so spencer being jealous of her is a very real possibility #//that's something i'm gonna have to think about and explore further #abuse cw #abuse mention cw #//also this isn't really romantic but i'll put it in my jencer tag regardless #lit the fuse and missed the candle {jack/spencer}#❝ if he was going to kill me‚ i wanted him to think i wasn't afraid ❞ {spencer middleton}#you know this whole thing is one big experiment‚ right? and you're the little mouse? {ooc}#as far as jobs go‚ it's not the best‚ but it's not the worst either {headcanons}

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tamerahardy · 5 months

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Family Trauma, Self Consciousness and Child Molestation

We all have traumatic things that happen to us, sometimes we forgive and forget, sometimes we bury and carry it with us subconsciously. When I look back at my life as a child I had a GREAT childhood during the times we all lived with my grandmother before my mom moved out at 30. My grandmother on my mom’s side is an influential figure in my life, she taught and guided me when my mom was not around and she watched and looked out for us all.

I’m not really sure how close of a relationship my mom and grandma had or how my mom came up but I do know my grandmother watched us all when she didn’t even have to until my mom got back on her feet. It’s just like that with the women in my family. Spiteful…but they look out for you.

When we moved to our first house in Riverdale I was 5 years old, very young with not a care in the world. I loved my family very much and I enjoyed life. I remember the family trips to Disney/Florida, I remember the holidays and getting all the presents I wanted. I remember my aunty coming over to visit and my mom’s coworkers.

We lived a good life from my POV. My mom had it all, she was killing it at work, she had a lot of friends, we went on family trips everything was PERFECT until it wasn’t anymore. I remember one random day just playing video games with my brother, that was our thing we played games together and we were downstairs in my brother room on the computer. My cousin was there too and I was sitting on his lap. I randomly felt his hand go in my pants and he touched me.

I wasn’t really sure what he was doing or why…I didn’t even know it was wrong, but now at my age I understand and it is very traumatizing for me. I wish I could get this memory out of my head for good but this is why I’m talking now. I recall watching a movie called “creepers” about little boys getting locked up and raped in jail and even yearssss later after the incident after seeing that I understood that maybe what my cousin did was wrong and I told my mother one random night.

I am not really sure what or how my mother processed that she never showed me her emotions. I rarely even saw her cry but when I told her she kinda looped it in with me just being scared and hurt from the movie, but I do believe she talked to my cousin and my aunt because afterwards my cousin avoided me whenever we visited her. It was very awkward…I know what happened but I don’t think anyone believed me. Either way I said my peace about it but I have to kill that demon that still haunts me.

As I grew older my relationship with my mother went downhill. She was drinking heavily and we had moved quite a bit. I would go deep into her story but this isn’t about her. This is my story. We had already moved from our first house in riverdale. We would move back in forth from Decatur and Riverdale, that way if mom fell on hard times my grandma would take us. It had gotten to a point where me, my brothers and mom were in a one bedroom apt with my grandmother.

Over the years it was quite rough for me. My mom viewed me as a “slut” by the way I dressed and how I would be boy crazy. Our relationship wasn’t close anymore, but me and my grandma were. Me and my grandmother became very close as I got older. My mom wasn’t around much I’m assuming because she wanted a life and the pressure led her back to alcohol and going out with friends.

Between moving around all the time, and living with my grandmother, being poor for so long, being bullied, growing up in this world as a girl I began to disconnect from my family..mind you I have 3 brothers and me being the only girl it was not a cake walk. My brothers bullied and picked on me called me fat and all types of mean things. I experienced similar treatment in elementary school by 3rd - 5th grade. I became really self conscious about myself, I would steal my brothers XXL shirts to come my body up because I hated my thighs. I hated my body, and because I was a tomboy boys called me musty.

My first crush EVER this boy named Courtney, he stayed in my neighborhood and was in my graduating class. He dressed real fly and he was so cute to me. He had just moved to neighborhood actually and baby called dibs even with my tomboy reputation. I mean making friends in the neigh was easy like I said this was my moms first home she threw all the house parties, was crushing it at work, family trips, she was dating and drinking etc this was the highlight of her life, so initially we had the hottest house on the block I’m not lying everybody from all over would come over and stop by or they would come get me and we head out to play and that’s initially when I saw Courtney outside of school. He stayed down the block and we would play at his house sometimes. He knew i had a crush on him but because of my reputation and how carried myself why would he go for a girl like me? We never dated or did anything but I did enjoy being in his company whenever I went out, whenever I rode my bike past his house I would get IMMENSE butterflies. Sometimes I didn’t even want to ride pass I would be so scared. Courtney had an older brother he was fine to he was actually nicer to me than Courtney was. In most cases when I like someone I never say anything to them, I just get really nervous, communicating my feelings was very hard for me. Even if I felt a way about somebody I would write a lot. I would write about the boys I like. I recall writing a love letter to one of Courtney’s friends his name was Tyran Walker lol. I remember him specifically because he was one of the boys that picked on me and called me musty. Me one day just testing the waters I wrote a note to Tyran it included some spicy words like “aroused” and even though it was for jokes it made him uncomfortable. So uncomfortable he reported it and I was called to the guidance counselor office and she asked me about it she even made me read the definition of “aroused” out loud…it made me a bit uncomfortable too but at least I was aware then. Anywho I am not sure why but life went on I had a crush on Courtney, but nothing happened, I made friends and did curious kid shit, got myself into tons of trouble.

My mom would take me to get my hair done with her but initially I was very rough and liked running and playing outside earning that “Tom boy” title fr. There were times I would be musty in class and boys would make fun of me real bad. It was times where the pretty and popular girls in my class would get check out early together (because they were friends and their parents were friends) like some weird pretty popular girl cult and boys would get mad because it was only girls like me left in the class. The musty tomboy and the other geeky girls they didn’t like. I remember 5th year the graduation ceremony we were suppose to partner up and walk down the stairs to the stage with someone it was boy and girl not sure why maybe it was a sick joke played by the teachers but yea I was partnered up with a boy and during the graduation ceremony he didn’t even want to hold my hand it was so embarrassing because my mom was there and he was being mean. In elementary school I wasn’t popular at all and the boy I liked was not interested in me (it seems to be a pattern of this) I was not anyone’s top pick, I was picked on for being musty

and that’s when it began…..

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kenshinleinuell · 1 year

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AUTOBIOGRAPHY

Hi! My name is Leinuell Anthony M. Vicente, you can call Lein and Turon. I am 16 years old and currently studying at Saint Pius X Institute of Cuyapo, Nueva Ecija. I live in our home town here in Calancuasan Norte, Cuyapo, Nueva Ecija where I have a lot of memories with my family and friends. I was born at Paniqui Tarlac on June 12 2006 which is also the Independence Day of the Philippines. Our life here is neither poor or difficult. We get to do things like a normal person could like eating 3 meals a day. When I was little I was so stubborn and often get lost on some places. If I remember correctly I got lost on Baguio, Manila, in malls and even in roads just by myself. Now why I know my parents are so strict to me. Our school here in our home town is just by the side of our house. Just 10-15 steps and you are inside the campus but for it's not like that because even though the school is beside our house I always get late because I always choose to play on my Tablet every morning I wake up. My Father is chef in Abroad working to help me finish school and while my Mother used to take care elderly people at London but now just a vendor sellings snacks and vegetables as a little business to help us buy things every day. The reason my Mother came back from London is that my Grandparents can handle my stubbornness and often get stress about me so they told Mom to go home to help them take care of me. I was gifted with a talent to draw back then but now really enhance and shown since I often just draw when there is no one around and I really like Drawing Dinosaurs and Sharks back then. Every since Kindergarten to Grade 6, I was always one of the Honor Students or one of the students who has the highest grades but only stayed on Top 3 or Top 4. When I enrolled in highschool I was very nervous because it's very new to me and it is nothing like elementary but what's good is that, my new classmates help me to be not shy on the campus and met all the teachers, all of the teachers were very nice. On grade 7 I was the most quiet person in our room, I don't know how to socialize to begin with since I don't know them, but it changed when two of classmates approch me which is Rei Aldrin F. Ramirez and Joseph Toledo. They were the very first friends that I have in high school. I've experienced a lot and have a lot of memories during that year and experienced how to be a piusian. On grade 8, it was hell of traumatic since a lot of go to the things I wouldn't want to happen. That time I was the most loudest and tallest boy in our room, I was huge that time and even got the teachers amazed of my height, Like I said G-8 was hell of traumatic since I've many bad things. In our foundation day, I broke the TV of our classroom and on Exam, I was caught cheating on exam. Most unlucky year of my high school years. On Grade 9 and Grade 10 it was modular and we were at home studying which is kinda easy and hard because we were used in face to face classes and we get a hard time to adjust to the modular and because of the pandemic we were not allowed to go outside for our safety. Now on Grade-11, face to face was brought back, to be honest this is the best year of my high school life, I've met new friends, got to learn to things, to be honest back from the pandemic I've changed a lot physically and mentally and I've noticed that I also improved Academically which suprises me because on Grade 7 to Grade 10 I dont receive awards but on this Year I receive rewards like Distinctions and Honors. Even though this year I've quite experienced pain rejections and being replaced but those doesn't matter as long as I fulfill my Goal and Dream of my life, it will always keep me happy.

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plural-culture-is · 2 years

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hello !! im so so so sorry if this is a bother but i was wondering if this was plurality? okay, so first off, before i even knew what plural or DID or OSDD or even mental illness was, i had this voice. in my head. but, he was different than my internal monologue. he would oppose everything i did, insult me constantly, and call me a b*tch if i was being a lil stupid. i called him alex, after a guy who bullied me in elementary school. about a few years later, alex was still rampaging and i think i formed anxiety from both him and my mother/father combined (or at least i think). i would frantically search up 'voice in your head' and 'is it normal to have a voice in your head' and etc. then, i found out about DID. i did (no pun intended /j) some research and was astonished. i would watch any video i could and it was a hyperfixation for some reason. as school got more demanding i simply. forgot. and then i found a new hyperfixation. i wont say the fandom for legal reasons (/j) but i think i formed a few fictives. i had no idea at the time, and thought i had just changed my inner monologue to match the character. this was in the point of my life where my mom would yell at me and not allow me annywhere and ban me from literally anything; including going to the bathroom. hell, i would have a mental breakdown + sob fest in my closet, bed, and bathroom (its not ur room if u havent cried in it at least once /j im sorry i cope with humor). i started begging for anything to support me, because i didnt have many friends. i think that i willed the fictives into existence???????? so now, im searching up headmates and DID, because it seemed to be what i had. then. i discovered endos. i was ECSTATIC because!!!!!!!!!! look!!!!!!!!!!! people who related to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but... then i was slapped with HUNDREDS of anti-endo posts. i was terrified, and thought i was,,, well,, shizophrenic. because who made up voices in their head???????? and i just. shut down. now, i feel like i have more headmates (i think) than i started out with but i have been purposefully not consuming new media (exept fnaf sb fudge-) but everytime i hear one of them, i shove them away. However, alex is still here maybe bc im used to him? but he would tell me that im 'hurting everyone' and that i was 'a danger to all of us'. im just. scared. i suspect that i may have osdd-1b but im just. a coward who cant face consquences. also, i dont even know if my trauma is bad enough! i know i have it, but is it enough..??? im so sorry this turned out so long omfg,,, but. yeah. do you think im plural? im almost sure i dont have schizophrenia, nor any other hallucination type kinda disorder/illness but im. not sure. sobs,,,,,

for traumagenic systems, the amount of trauma needed to cause the system can really vary. What one brain thinks is traumatic, another won’t, so there’s nothing exact about what counts as “bad enough” to make a system.

it does sound like you’re plural! If you don’t have any other symptoms of schizophrenia then it’s not schizophrenia, and you probably are hearing your headmates, especially considering you don’t seem to be able to control the voices, so it’s not just your own internal monologue.

and you said you’ve already done lots of research on DID/plurality, and you know your experiences better than anyone else in the world, especially internet strangers, so if you think you’re a system, just go with that.

#not plural culture #am i plural #actuallyplural #plurality #traumagenic system #abuse cw #anonymous #[mod howard]

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ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her · 3 years

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On Family

An excerpt from Memoirs of a Flesh Eater, never published

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One question that I see asked in the news a lot is why there are still any ghouls left. We have a distinctive, high-impact feeding habit that requires us to stay within human society, where we are both outnumbered and outgunned. This has essentially been the case since the development of automatic firearms, and you’ve continued to develop more and more effective methods of killing us since then. How are we not extinct?

The talking heads always have lurid theories to propose. My personal favorite one, which comes up every couple of years or so, is that the government is secretly breeding us so that they have an excuse to send secret police out into the general populace for nefarious purposes pretending to be exterminators. As if they’d need the excuse {Editing Note: I’ve gotta keep my political views out of this except where they directly pertain to ghouls. No unnecessarily alienating people}. The most commonly accepted one seems to be that we just have a lot of children to compensate for our high mortality rate. Spatha calls that an R strategy, I think. Scarlet calls it the Rabbit Theory. Whatever you call it, it’s wrong. Our species has survived off the strength and compassion of our families.

Contrary to popular impressions, our “nuclear” families are pretty small. My understanding is that 1-4 children is the typical range. I’m the only confirmed only child in my friend group. Scarlet’s the youngest of three, Scorpio’s a middle child, Spatha avoids talking about her home life, and Kestrel doesn’t know her biological parents. There’s a couple of pressures that keep our family sizes small. First, it’s challenging to feed too many ghouls at once, especially ghoul children, who we don’t want worrying about where they’re going to get their meals. Second, the majority of ghoul parents are going to end up as single parents before their kids are fully grown. Either one of them is going to get killed, or they’re going to have to separate to go on the run from the exterminators; and, of course, we do still break up and get divorced sometimes.

These pressures are exaggerated by our general lack of an extended family. It’s not that all of our aunts and uncles get hunted down - even if they did, we’d still have cousins - but it’s not safe for us to have traceable extended families. When exterminators identify a ghoul, the first thing they do is put out a bulletin for all known blood relatives. The most common tactic to avoid this is, when multiple siblings make it to adulthood, at least one of them changes their identity and moves away. This isn’t always done, but it’s done often enough that document forging is a widespread and well-respected profession in the Society. It’s useful for dodging exterminators in other circumstances too. My mom and I changed our names and moved cities after exterminators killed my dad when I was 4.

Between that and the sheer number of out-and-out orphans in our Society, it should come as no surprise that we’ve developed a new family structure to fill in the gaps. The terminology we use for this structure is variable, but the term I’ve always used is “household”. A household is a sort of adopted extended family, typically formed by and centered around one particularly resourceful ghoul called a patron. The patron takes whichever ghouls they choose under their wing, introduces them to each other, and helps them coordinate their talents and resources so that they all have everything they need. Most obviously, this means making sure they all have a supply of flesh, but there are numerous other kinds of support a household can provide. I doubt I need to emphasize again how valuable a reliable source of companionship and safety is, but patrons typically have access to connections and contacts that can help the other members of the household accomplish their goals.

My household, for example, was founded by our patron Yaga. It consists of her, her adopted daughter Kestrel, my mom and I, my friends Scarlet and Scorpio and their immediate families, and four other older ghouls. There’s also Spatha, who has been reluctant to fully join the household but acts like a member in most contexts. Three of our members have reliable flesh sources, and Yaga coordinates with other ghouls to find supplementary sources to ensure that she always has a surplus on hand. This keeps all of us well-fed and lets her distribute the rest to those in need in exchange for favors and cachet that the rest of us can use for our own advancement. In turn, the rest of us pitch in for odd jobs here and there, mostly on flesh-gathering jobs of one kind or another, and we look out for each other. I’ve done a bit of babysitting with Kestrel, for example, and Yaga was able to get me and Scarlet summer jobs to save up for college.

Babysitting, by the way, is one of the most valuable services a household can provide to a ghoul parent. Given our mortality rate, it probably isn’t a surprise that there’s a good bit of cultural pressure to have children, and have them quick. Ghoul children are… a lot. When we’re newborn, we’re pretty much like human babies. Ghoul babies can nurse from ghoul mothers for awhile, which is a relief. They need to switch to flesh before their teeth come in, though, so that means flesh slurry, which is more complicated to make than you might think. For best results, you want a mix of blood, muscle tissue, organ tissue, and bone, especially marrow. We get better at pulling all our nutrients from just flesh as we mature, but babies aren’t as developed. Getting those varied tissues is a little more complicated than just getting flesh. Bone especially is challenging - more mature ghouls have no need for it, and it’s honestly kinda gross. You just have to hope that whoever you’re getting flesh from can start holding some bones for you. Not every source has easy access to bones.

{Editing Note: I think I wrote bone too many times - it looks fake now. Bone. Bone.}

We get our ghoul teeth at the same time as our baby teeth. Our ghoul teeth fall out and are replaced too, but we keep growing new ones our whole lives, kinda like sharks. Funnily enough, I don’t think we grow extra human teeth, which seems like a strange way for evolution to take us, but what do I know, I’m not a biologist. At that point we can start eating regular flesh, and parents have the unenviable task of explaining to toddlers that they can’t just slide their teeth out whenever they want. Our other features come in a bit later - claws between 4 and 6, eyes with puberty. Let me tell you, the claws hurt coming in. I couldn’t hold a pencil for a month. My mom told the elementary school that I was deathly sick so she could keep me home, but I think Scarlet just pretended he’d broken both his hands and went in splints. I don’t envy him - stretching my claws did a lot to relieve the pain.

I’ll admit freely that, by our standards, I had a pretty charmed childhood. I fit into human society pretty easily, I had a mom who loved me and could provide for me, a patron and household to help pick up the slack, and ghoul friends my own age. I had the discipline to keep my true nature hidden from my human peers, and I don’t think I was even particularly traumatized by the pressure of performing humanity that much. I can safely attribute that to the fact that I had safe spaces throughout my life to let the charade drop. Most ghouls at least have that. Most, but not all.

Our integration into human society also means that we inevitably become entangled in human society. We become invested in the lives of our human peers, we befriend them, care about them. Sometimes we fall in love with them. Eating people seems like kind of a big secret to keep from a potential romantic partner - I certainly couldn’t manage it - but some ghouls form romantic relationships with humans nonetheless. Maybe some of these human partners eventually discover the truth and are willing to overlook it for the person they love, but I doubt it happens often. I’ve certainly never heard of it. I’ve heard of it going the other way, though, a human partner discovering the truth and reacting poorly. Someone always dies when that happens. I personally know a few ghouls who’ve dated humans, or are seriously involved with them. Frankly, it scares the hell out of me. I get that the heart wants what it wants, but some wants aren’t worth the risk.

{Editing Note: That last line feels… tense. Emotionally charged. Why? And should I change it?}

In my opinion, the gravest of these risks is what happens when a human and a ghoul decide they want to build a life together, but kids are already in the equation. The human-ghoul mixed family is probably the most toxic environment that a ghoul child could be raised in and conceivably survive. All that pressure of hiding your true nature from your peers as you grow up? That feeling of isolation that follows you everywhere you go among humans? All of the most crushing emotional turmoil I’ve described in this book so far? Imagine if there was no relief for that even at home with your family. I frankly have no idea how ghoul parents manage to feed themselves and their children without being caught, or how they manage to perform humanity so flawlessly and constantly that their literal immediate family never catches on. I don’t know how those children manage to survive to adulthood, but I imagine they have some seriously fucked up mental health problems by the time they do. Factor in the suspicion that they would inevitably face from our Society when they finally are able to join it properly - after all, who more likely to become a Judas or be Lost than a ghoul raised by humans? - and I’d be willing to bet most of them don’t make it out of their twenties.

Before we move on entirely from families in general and mixed families in particular, I’d like to take a quick aside to talk about “half-ghouls”. You hear about them in horror media fairly often, the biological child of a human and a ghoul. Authors love to ascribe all sorts of traits to these hypothetical creatures - greater and more monstrous than the sum of their parts, supernaturally strong and vicious, impossible to detect within human society, sometimes with traits that are blatantly impossible, like telepathy or mind control or just plain magic. All of that is obviously untrue, but it’s something of a point of contention as to whether or not a “half-ghoul” is even possible. None of the ghouls I’ve talked to seem to agree about whether it can happen, and a search of human medical literature was similarly inconclusive. Humans, at least, seem to think that it might be theoretically possible, but have never been able to verify it by observation or by medical experiment. Of the ghouls I know that have been romantically involved with humans, none of them have ever gotten a kid out of it. It’s one of those things where we just don’t know. If it were possible, I’m not even sure what the implications would be.

#my writing #memoirs of a flesh eater #original fiction #not tlt

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

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TMT One-Shot

F/M Pairing: Y/N x 3racha (Stray Kids)

Word Count: 8K

Genre: High School AU

Warnings: Lots of smut and language; mentions of alcohol

Summary: Y/N is the shy, awkward girl who can’t talk to boys while doing her best to exist as a shadow throughout her high school life. Her two brothers, Minho and Felix, are the complete opposite. Minho is the cool, suave music addict who wants to be in his own band one day, while Felix is the stereotypical popular kid whose best friend, Han Jisung, tirelessly trails after his friend’s older sister. However, despite their differences, the three siblings share a very close relationship and Y/N considers them to be her only real friends.

One day, Minho brings home two classmates from his community college and Y/N realizes, for the very first time, that the sweet taste of desire is highly addictive.

When my mother died, I was only 10-years-old. She slipped away like a ghost, quietly and without notice, and I was left feeling broken on the inside. If I was a therapist, unlike the contemptuous older woman who always spoke to me with a condescending tone, I’d likely attribute the traumatic event to the person I started to become.

Instead of bouncing back from her death like my brothers Minho and Felix, I started to feel sad all the time. Accordingly, I lost many of the friends I met in Elementary school because I chose to sit quietly in my classes when I didn't feel like talking to anyone else. Likewise, I also declined their invitations to visit their houses or ride with their parents to the movie theaters. Actually, I exchanged those friendships for the solitude of my bedroom at home where I usually spent the evening staring vacantly at the ceiling while trying not to cry anymore.

Yeah, I guess it was kinda my fault.

Overtime, my status evolved from the kind, amiable Y/N who everyone at school admired, to the sullen and despondent weird girl who sometimes spoke to imaginary friends. I spent recesses inside with my teachers, helping them clean the whiteboard. During lunch, I sat alone with my school tray and thought about how my mother used to pack my lunches for me because I complained about the mystery meatloaf....Oh, right, thinking about my mother inevitably made me feel sad again and sometimes I cried at school in front of my classmates.

Needless to say, my youth wasn’t exactly as voracious as my peers...or even my brothers for that matter. Actually, Minho and Felix were perfectly normal because they mourned our mother’s death for several months before inexplicably moving on as if it had never happened. Thereafter, Minho developed a passion for music and my father allowed him to take guitar and piano lessons after school. Felix started to play sports and he was quite good at baseball despite his smaller stature. Likewise, in between classes, I heard my classmates frequently gossiping about my brothers: mysterious and alluring Minho who all the older girls adored, and popular and beloved Felix who was the envy of our classmates.

I didn’t mind being considered an outsider in comparison to my brothers because they still treated me like a friend. In fact, my brothers and I were extremely close, especially after our mother’s death. Despite my introverted tendencies, Minho and Felix often went out of their way to include me in their activities. For example, Minho liked to offer his demos as background music for the raunchier parties in our town and he always begged me to come along and hear his new songs. My older brother was so incredibly talented that I rarely refused his offers, finding myself sitting next to Felix in the backseat of Minho’s car while we drove across town to the wealthier districts. I would spend the rest of the night hanging around my brothers while listening to Minho sing about everything from his ex-girlfriends to the pot he liked to smoke with some of the younger guys.

In any case, I could always count on my brothers to liven my spirits, which might explain why I was so uncomfortable when Minho graduated and applied for University. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because Minho was only driving thirty minutes everyday to attend his classes and he still lived at home. But it still felt like an unwanted change, and I wasn’t sure how to cope with my brother’s sudden desire to build a studio in the basement of our childhood home while he brought new classmates to fawn over his equipment.

Thankfully, I managed to avoid the unfamiliar faces, and I started spending more time with Felix. Unfortunately, spending time with Felix inevitably forced me to endure the endless pandering from some of his more unsavory acquaintances. For example, when I wanted to play video games one afternoon, I knocked twice on Felix’s door only to find myself in the company of someone who was decidedly the complete opposite of my brother. His name was Han Jisung, and he was Felix’s best friend. “Y/N,” he said quietly, sheepishly attempting to fix the mop on top of his head. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I said, glancing over Jisung’s shoulder. “Where’s Felix?”

“Bathroom,” Jisung said, pointing at the door.

I groaned. “Are you busy?”

“We’re never too busy for you,” Jisung smirked, but he always flirted with me shamelessly as if he didn’t care that I was Felix’s older sister.

I ignored Jisung when I walked into Felix’s bedroom, finding a relatively clean spot on his bed to wait for his return. In the meantime, Jisung lingered by the doorway, watching me with those ridiculous dark eyes. “I heard Minho made another demo.”

“He’s always making demos,” I replied, wondering why Felix was determined to take his time for once.

“Yeah, but he’s really proud of this one.”

“Minho thinks he’s a genius,” I said. “If you were to ask him, then every song he made would be a masterpiece.”

“Well, he’s the reason why I've started to pursue music.”

“You?” I scoffed, finding the idea of Jisung as a creator of anything other than enormous messes on the kitchen counter to be nothing short of hilarious. “Jisung, you can’t even finish your math homework.”

“That’s not true!” Jisung protested. “It’s just not that interesting, and I like music so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“You’ll find something else to like in a few months,” I said, watching as he frowned with that ridiculous pout he always wore when he wasn’t getting his way.

“Yeah? Well, when my first mixtape comes out,” Jisung grumbled.

“I’ll be the first one asking for an autograph,” I teased him, rolling my eyes when he sat next to me and held up his pinky finger.

“Promise?”

“Fine,” I sighed before trying to move further away from Jisung.

He didn’t allow the space for very long, sliding right up against me without any traces of his previous frustrations. “Y/N,” Jisung said, hand reaching out for my shoulder. “There’s a party this Friday.”

“I’m not in the mood for a party,” I said. “I have a lot of homework this weekend, and-”

“Actually, Minho invited us,” Felix interrupted, and I didn’t even realize that my brother had returned. I was also surprised to see Minho behind him, stretching his arms above his head like he had forgotten to sleep again last night.

“You’re going too?” I asked Minho.

“It’s Chan’s party,” Minho explained. “He’s playing some of my demo tracks.”

“Bang Chan,” I repeated, narrowing my eyes because I had heard my brother mention that name dozens of times. Actually, if I didn’t know any better, then I would think Minho had some kind of infatuation with his new college friend.

“I think Minho is in love,” Felix teased, dodging Minho’s playful swing before he joined Jisung and I on the edge of his bed.

“He’s just a friend from one of my lectures,” Minho said.

“Minho also thinks he’s a genius,” Felix whispered to me, but it was loud enough for our brother to overhear.

“You like him too,” Minho protested.

“Felix met him?”

“Last week,” Felix beamed. “Minho and I ran into him on the way to get coffee. Your lazy ass was still asleep at 12:00.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled. “I stayed up late to finish an essay.”

“College will kick your ass, Y/N,” Minho said. “If you can’t survive high school literature...”

“I get it,” I groaned. “I don’t want another lecture.”

“Good, but you’re still coming to the party because I want you to meet Chan and hear your brother’s masterpiece.”

“Please stop calling your mixtape a masterpiece.”

“I’ll consider it,” Minho smirked, “as long as I see you at Chan’s house this Friday.”

“This is considered blackmail, Minho,” I sighed. “But fine, I’ll need the time and address, please.”

I stood on the porch in the frigid cold wearing a party dress that might’ve been overkill, and I had a desire to return to my house because nobody was answering the door. Actually, when I really thought about it, this complex was too nice for a college student, unless Chan had discovered Blackbeard’s treasure or something. I snorted at my own joke, waiting impatiently for someone to let me inside because my brothers weren’t responding to my text messages.

The music sounded faint from behind the door, which made me wonder if Minho had given me the wrong address. It wouldn’t be the first time that my brother gave me some kind of misinformation, but I thought he really wanted me to come tonight and hear his music. “Hello!” I yelled, banging my fist against the door. “Minho? I’m leaving in exactly ten seconds if nobody lets me inside!”

I started the countdown in my head, jumping up and down to warm my muscles, when a sudden expulsion of heat relieved the tension slowly numbing my fingers. “There you are,” Felix said with a drunken smile.

“Isn’t too early for you to be plastered?”

Felix giggled. “They’re playing Minho’s music next.”

“Well, let me inside you asshole,” I said, pushing my way into the house because my brother had clearly forgotten that it was basically snowing outside.

“What do you think?” Felix asked. “It’s pretty nice.”

“I can’t see anything,” I complained, narrowing my eyes since it was difficult to notice the details when the house was packed wall to wall with intoxicated college students. The lights were also dimmed, which meant that walking was an unnecessary chore as Felix took my hand and brought me into the kitchen where he promised Minho was waiting.

At least he wasn’t fully incapable.

“Y/N,” Minho grinned, tossing an arm around my shoulder as he pulled me closer, allowing me to smell the nasty liquor on his breath.

“Drunk at your mixtape reveal party?”

Minho laughed. “I haven’t had much.”

“Felix has,” I said, grimacing when I spotted my younger brother bouncing from person to person with an unmaintainable energy.

“Let him have fun,” Minho said. “I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“Whatever, but he’s your responsibility in the morning when he’s suffering from a hangover.”

“I’ll handle it,” Minho reassured me. “Anyway, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Oh?”

“Chan! Get your ass over here!”

“What a good friend you are,” I remarked, and I was fully prepared to tease my brother further until I realized that Minho was waving down one of the most attractive men I had ever seen.

Chan was absolutely gorgeous, appearing nothing short of debauched under the low-hanging lights of the kitchen. Neatly styled blonde-hair parted down the middle, and bright blue eyes that held the stars inside an endless sea of black. “Are you guys having fun?” he asked with an accent that I couldn’t place.

“The place is fucking awesome, man,” Minho said, wrapping an arm around Chan’s shoulders as he nodded in my direction. “This is my sister,” Minho said with a proud smile.

“Hello,” I said, cringing at my tone.

“Y/N,” Chan smiled, and I decided that nobody could ever say my name again with such a sexy tenor.

“You have a lovely home,” I said, swallowing hard when Chan leaned in closer.

“Minho talks about you a lot,” Chan said with a smirk. “Do you want something to drink?”

I nodded without thinking, keeping my eyes trained on his beautiful visage as a beer slipped into my hand. “Pace yourself,” Minho warned me, but I ignored him as I swallowed down the bile-tasting liquid.

“I like her,” Chan nodded, looking at me seductively from over the top of his bottle.

“She’s a bit uptight,” Minho chuckled, and I glared at him because this was not the time to embarrass me. “Are my songs playing next?”

“I’ll make sure everything is ready,” Chan said, giving me one last lingering look.

“Let’s find a good place to hear everything,” Minho suggested, and I followed my brother with thoughts and fantasies consumed by Bang Chan.

Minho’s mixtape was really good, and I begrudgingly congratulated my brother and even allowed him to tell everyone that it was, in fact, a masterpiece. However, while my brother was distracted by a group of younger fan-girls, I slipped away to try and find somewhere peaceful to recover from my headache. It had developed sometime between the pounding bass line of “BEWARE” and the aggressive tone of “Boxer.”

I paused next to the foyer where there were considerably less people. In fact, only one student lingered next to the open window, and I leaned against the wall as I closed my eyes against the distinct ringing in my ears. Next time, I would wear earplugs when Minho forced me to stand at the speakers.

“You’re not going to pass out, right?”

I blinked several times as the room swam into focus. “I’ll probably make it.”

“There’s a bathroom upstairs,” the rough voice continued, and I finally addressed the hooded figure standing at the window. I realized that he was smoking, holding the bud of the cigarette outside so that the ashes collected somewhere on the porch. “I’m Changbin,” he smirked.

“Oh,” I cleared my throat. “Do you mind if I share the window?”

He shrugged, tossing his hood back so that I could see the way his black hair fell flat against his head. “Sure.”

I carefully felt my way along the wall until the generous cold breeze was hitting my flushed skin. “Thank god,” I groaned, practically forcing my head outside.

“Drink too much?”

“A combination of that and the music.”

“I heard a rumor that the beer was definitely spiked,” he said, dark eyes looking me over. “You’re obviously new here.”

“I’m with my brother,” I offered cautiously in response to his sudden advances.

“Do I know him?”

“Lee Minho.”

Changbin’s eyes widened. “We’re in the same music composition lecture. I thought he mentioned you in class.”

“He invited me,” I continued, but I didn’t understand why I felt the need to justify myself to him.

“I bet he did,” Changbin nodded. “Why would he hide you from us?”

I shivered. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“Is that right?” he asked before cornering me against the wall with a hungry gaze. “You hear the song playing?”

I nodded. “It’s loud.”

Changbin chuckled. “I made it.”

I nodded again because that certainly explained the explicit lyrics. “It’s...interesting?”

“Yeah?” Changbin purred. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” I gasped, feeling one of his hands grab me around the waist.

His lips brushed against mine, soft and sensual, while he inhaled deeply. “Y/N, is this your first party?”

“No,” I whispered because it suddenly felt like we were the only two people left in the room.

“I just assumed,” he said. “From the way you’re reacting.”

“W-what?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you wanted to go someplace else with me,” Changin said.

I was completely baffled by his assumption, searching for the right words, but they never came. However, the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat forced us apart, and I was surprised to see Chan standing so close. “I guess you’ve met Minho’s little sister,” Chan said and I hated how immature the introduction sounded.

“She made sure to tell me,” Changbin smirked. “I can’t believe we haven’t met before.”

“He’s looking for her,” Chan continued, and I was confused by the hostility in his tone. “You probably shouldn’t do anything.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” Changbin retorted, planting one of his hands next to my head. “She’s feeling sick. Tell Minho I can take her home.”

“He won’t like that.”

“Oh? Is anyone else sober?”

Chan was quiet for a moment, eyes darting between the two of us. “Wait here.”

“What a good host,” Changbin snarked, but Chan was already walking away and I was starting to feel the effects of my alcoholic consumption darken the edges of my vision.

My brother was nothing short of incoherent, swaying back against Chan as he tried to give me a stern look. “Y/N, I hope you didn’t drink too much.”

“Really?” I snorted. “Isn’t that hypocritical?”

Of course, my admonishment had no effect on Minho. “Chan said that you were feeling sick.”

“It’s just a headache,” I said, although my churning stomach seemed to suggest otherwise.

“I thought I could take Y/N home,” Changbin interrupted. “I guess she could use some fresher air.”

“Sure,” Minho nodded, eyes glassy. “I don’t mind.”

Minho was readily willing to entrust his sister into the care of someone she had just met, and that’s when I knew that he couldn’t be trusted to take me anywhere. “Is that what you want?” Chan asked.

I shrugged because it might be nice to finally escape the endless drumming of Chan’s intricate sound system. “I might be saving myself some trouble.”

“I need more cigarettes,” Changbin said. “I’m running low and I know there’s a store near Minho’s house.

I frowned, but figured that Minho had brought Changbin over to our house before during that brief phase at the start of his college semester when I saw a new face in the basement every week. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“As long as you behave,” Chan warned him quietly, but I never had the opportunity to question him before Changbin was forcing us both outside onto the main porch where the snow was starting to build along the sidewalks.

“This way,” Changbin said, resting one of his hands against my lower back as he guided us down the street.

Changbin’s car was a very old model and the paint was starting to peel from the doors. He helped me inside slowly, reaching for my seat-belt before I slapped his hands out of the way because I could manage to do that by myself. He chuckled at my glare. “Comfortable?”

I nodded in response and waited for him to turn on the ignition before I was savoring the accompanying blast of heat even though it smelled distinctly of ashes. “Minho’s little sister,” Changbin said, eyes focused on the road in front of him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” I replied because the growing distance between us and Chan’s party music was actually nice. “I guess the music gave me a headache.”

“That’s how Chan likes it,” Changbin said. “He’s gotten at least a dozen noise complaints from this past month alone.”

“How many parties does he have!”

Changbin smirked. “He likes to keep his house full.”

“It might’ve been too much tonight,” I said, leaning my head against the cold window. “I’ve never seen so many people.”

“Exams,” Changbin said. “When college students feel stressed, they like to get shitfaced.”

“But you’re not drunk.”

“Who said that I was stressed?”

His tone was strangely flirtatious, especially when he looked at me. “You didn’t have to help me, you know?”

“I know, but it was my window we were sharing,” Changbin said. “You looked like you were seconds away from crashing.”

“I can take care of myself,” I replied, even though it was rather harsh to criticize someone who was currently neglecting the speed limit to take my home as quickly as possible. “When did you meet Minho?”

“A few weeks ago,” Changbin said. “We worked on a project together.”

“I guess you’ve already been to my house.”

“Yeah, but I sure as hell don’t remember seeing you.”

“I don’t really like to socialize with most of my brother’s friends.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Changbin said, briefly glancing at me. “Are you that type? The unattainable girl next door?”

“I just don’t like people,” I grumbled, but Changbin seemed to think it was funny, laughing at my expense while reaching down to turn on the radio despite the fact that music had caused my headache in the first place.

Of course, I didn’t want to be that type, so I endured his self-promotion, listening to his gravelly voice suspend the entire car into some kind of hip-hip haven. He talked his way through the introductions of every song on his mixtapes, bragging about his compositions and arrangements. “It’s all about authenticity,” he explained when we finally pulled into my driveway.

“Is that so?” I sighed, frowning when I realized Felix had forgotten to turn on the front porch light.

“I guess I should wait until you’re inside,” Changbin chuckled.

“Thanks,” I said, reaching out for the door handle.

“Woah! Baby, where are you going?” Changbin asked, and I quickly returned my hands to my lap. “Are you trying to get away from me?”

“No,” I shook my head, breathing heavily when he reached for my thigh.

“You probably don’t hear this a lot,” Changbin continued. “But you’re really sexy.”

I startled at his words. “Thank you?”

“I mean it, Y/N,” he continued, fingers inching along my thigh like it was free real estate. “Thank god you wanted to share my window.”

I shook my head rapidly when he turned off the ignition, navigating the waistband of his panties to drag his hand against my sensitive core. “What are you doing?” I whispered.

“I’m trying to make you feel good,” he said. “Do you want me to?”

I nodded this time, waiting with my fists balled against the leather seats while he penetrated the soft walls of my core, moving in and out slowly to help me adjust to his fingers. I tried to relax, dropping my shoulders and controlling the way I was panting in desperation for more of the addicting feeling he was creating in my lower abdomen. It all felt entirely scandalous, feeling the way his fingers dragged across my insides, curling against the most responsive parts and watching me with an intensity that I could barely tolerate. I was moaning for him, calling his name softly because he was starting to increase his movements, and I focused on the way his wrist reappeared from underneath my skirt before losing itself in a sea of denim fabric.

“It’s wet,” he remarked, and the sounds of his penetration were growing louder, intermingling with my rapid breaths and the dark tone of his voice. “I can feel it.”

I knew what he meant because my entire body was pulsing in time to the pace in which he played with me. It was like I was his personal experiment, testing how I reacted to certain touches, especially when he crooked his fingers and a moan would displace the temporary quiet. “Changbin,” I whined, reaching for his arm because everything was starting to feel overwhelming.

“I got you,” he said. “You’ve been so good for me, Y/N, I’m not gonna stop until you cum.”

I orgasmed at his filthy words, falling down from the place he sent me and into a deep headspace. He pulled his fingers back, holding them up so that I could clearly see the evidence of my release in the faint light from the street lamp outside. “You didn’t expect that,” Changbin said calmly, reaching for a tissue from the backseat while I tried to figure out what just happened. “I don’t really care who your brother is,” he continued, moving in close. “I think we should fuck next time.”

“Changbin,” I said, “if Minho finds out-”

“Why are you always worried about him?”

“He’s my brother!”

“Oh? Well, in that case, since you want to be good for your older brother,” Changbin smirked. “I guess I’ll have to find a different way to see you again.”

The next morning, I took a shower because I could still feel traces of Changbin’s touches between my thighs. The water was hot, fogging up the mirrors and making it difficult to breathe. It was necessary because I could function better when I re-emerged with fresh clothes and a sudden hunger for those little chocolate muffins my mom bought at the store.

I walked downstairs, noticing Felix and Jisung both sitting at the counter while they talked over their breakfast. Felix noticed me first, watching as I grabbed a leftover pastry from the fridge before leaning back against the cabinets. “Did you have fun last night?” he asked.

I narrowed my eyes, but then I realized that his question was innocent because he definitely didn’t know about Changbin. “It was nice.”

“What are you doing today?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I haven’t made plans.”

“You can hang out with me and Jisung today,” Felix suggested. “We’re just going for coffee.”

Jisung met my gaze from over the table and he quickly looked away as if he wasn’t expecting the contact. “Yeah,” I nodded. “I could use some coffee.”

It wasn’t often that I accompanied Felix and Jisung when they decided to actually leave the house and my brother’s massive collection of video games. Felix was never the problem, but I could only endure so much of Jisung’s flirtations before I inevitably made another pointless vow to try and ignore him. It was an impossible promise to keep since Felix was practically glued to his hip, and I can’t remember the last time Jisung actually spent the night at his own home.

However, coffee was nice and the taste was bile so it sat heavy on my tongue and provided a good distraction, even if that meant listening to my brother and Felix talk about the party. “I met Chan,” Jisung said. “He was really cool.”

Felix nodded, eyeing his coffee with obvious distaste. “Minho seems to like him.”

“He introduced me to his partner, Changbin,” Jisung continued and I fidgeted nervously at the mention of his name. “Apparently, they do a lot of work together.”

“I’ve heard their stuff,” Felix said, finally pushing away his coffee cup in exchange for his orange juice. “I think they’re really talented.”

“It’s like you’re meeting real professionals,” Jisung gushed and I rolled my eyes. “I let them listen to one of my demos,” Jisung chuckled. “I think they want to work together.”

“Really?” Felix gasped. “That’s amazing!”

“I guess they need another partner,” I remarked, shivering when I thought about my encounter with Changbin from the previous evening.

“You can always come with me to the studio tomorrow,” Jisung said. “If you want.”

The idea of being alone with Jisung wasn’t exactly high on my list of priorities. “I don’t know...”

“Changbin will be there too,” Jisung added. “Minho said he really thought you were cool at the party.”

“I bet he did,” I grumbled.

“Why are you inviting her instead of your best friend?” Felix pouted.

“You said you needed to work on a project,” Jisung reminded him. “Actually, you made me swear to keep away distractions!”

“Alright, fine,” Felix sighed. “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean that I’m okay with it.”

Jisung ignored my brother’s sullen expression. “Y/N? Do you want to come?”

“I guess,” I said, and I had no idea what possessed me to agree with his request until it was too late.

The next morning, I met Jisung outside of the address he had sent to my phone with several rather inappropriate emojis. I made sure to scold him for the messages, but he was far too excited, ignoring my complaints when he started talking about the new project he was working on with Chan and Changbin. “Come on,” he said, holding open the door as I walked inside the tiny lobby of the simple two-story building. “We’re on the top floor,” Jisung smirked as if that was something to brag about considering the condition of the worn-down warehouse they were using as a studio.

However, I knew that he was excited, so I feigned a smile as he continued talking about the building’s intricate history while we walked up the staircase to pause outside of a studio room. “Is this it?” I asked.

He nodded, reaching for the door handle. “They should be inside.”

True to his word, Chan and Changbin were standing together in front of a large computer monitor, turning around when they heard me and Jisung enter the room together. “There you are,” Chan said, but his gaze was strangely focused on me.

“We have some stuff for you to hear,” Changbin said, stretching his arms above his head. “I need some coffee first.”

“There’s a gas station down the road,” Jisung said. “I’ll go with you?”

Changbin looked at me for a moment before agreeing to Jisung’s proposal. “We’ll have plenty of time to work when we get back.”

“You’re in for a surprise, Jisung,” Chan said. “Actually, while the two of you are gone, maybe Y/N could look at some of the tracks?”

“Really?” I asked, surprised that he would be so willing to share, but he was already dragging me down into the desk chair, pulling me closer to the monitor.

“You can take you time and browse,” he said, joining Jisung and Changbin at the door.

They started talking about something else, but I was too busy admiring the vast number of tracks listened in sequential order on Chan’s computer. Despite how I might feel about Changbin, it was impossible to deny that their work was impressive, spreading across years of effort. It felt like I was being allowed an intimate glimpse of the artists who were growing more popular everyday.

“Try to be back in twenty minutes,” Chan said, and I watched Jisung and Changbin leave together, whispering in low tones while Chan shut the door behind them. “Your music is really good,” I said, scrolling through the library of his songs. It only made him that much more appealing when I could see the evidence of his passion.

“Are we going to stop playing games, Y/N?”

I frowned at his question, turning around in the chair. “What do you mean?”

Chan smirked, and I realized that it wasn’t playful. “Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are?” he asked.

“Chan...” I trailed off, frozen in place while he slowly leered in my direction, taking several, meaningful steps before he was bracing himself on either side of the desk behind me.

“Changbin told me about what happened in the car.”

I swallowed hard. “W-what?”

“Is that all it takes? A couple of fingers to satisfy you?”

“Chan, I don’t understand,” I tried, gasping when he picked me up out of the chair, legs wrapping around his waist automatically before he sat me down on the desk.

“Do you want it again?” Chan asked, running his hands alongside my waist before crawling his finger across the bare skin of my thighs, disregarding the thin barrier of my skirt. I felt him press the palm of his hand against my wet heat, fingers testing the edges of my panties. “I can make you feel good.”

The sensation was too much, and I found myself nodding without really thinking about the consequences. “Please.”

His fingers were suddenly penetrating my delicate walls, sliding in and out at a vicious pace that left me aching for something more. “Tell me, Y/N,” Chan demanded, using his thumb to circle my throbbing clitoris. “How does it feel?”

“I want it, Chan,” I moaned, bracing my hands against his firm chest as he continued to pleasure me. Unlike Changbin, I could tell that Chan was determined to make me cum as soon as possible, twisting his hand and jamming his fingers like he was aiming to make me lose my mind. I practically fell against him crying, riding out the waves of my high, while he ignored my whimpers when everything was suddenly feeling overstimulated.

“Come here,” he said, pulling out his fingers before falling against his chair and patting his thighs.

My legs were shaking when Chan helped me onto his lap and I moaned when his fingers crooked against my walls again. “Do you want my cock?” he asked and I nodded viciously, sending strands of my hair flying in all directions. “What a good girl,” he snarled, ripping his fingers away and leaving me whining around the empty space he left behind.

“Chan,” I groaned, resting my head against his shoulder while I watched him make a show out of undoing the belt around his waist, unzipping his skinny jeans before shoving the material down his thighs. His erection strained the silky material of his boxer shorts, and I was practically salivating.

He reached down to rub himself through his shorts, outlining his cock in a way that made me realize that I wasn’t going to leave this studio without an obvious limp. “Y/N,” he said. “Take off your skirt for me.”

I whined, but obeyed him instantly, bracing one hand against his shoulder while the other practically ripped the fine material of the pretty skirt down my legs and into the studio floor. Chan’s eyes darkened, grabbing my waist between his hands to grind the front of my soaked panties against his erection. “Please,” I cried, wanting nothing more than to take matters into my own hands, but Chan’s grip was impossible to break.

“I’m going to fuck this little pussy,” Chan growled. “Can you last long enough for me to come inside?”

“Yes,” I whined, stuttering around a broken sob when he pulled his cock into the studio light, stretching my panties to the side before sinking deep inside my pulsing heat.

“That’s right,” Chan said, eyes closed. “You feel so good.”

“Chan,” I moaned, eye widening when the stretch felt impossible, like he was splitting me open even when common sense told me that it was just my body accommodating to his cock.

His hips slammed into mine, and I could barely reciprocate when he easily overpowered my attempts to meet him somewhere between our bodies. Instead, he took control and I let him have it because he knew exactly what to do before sending me over the edge again, ignoring my cries when he continued to chase his own high, grunting against my ear when he came inside.

“Y/N,” he sighed, keeping me in place despite the fact that his cock was completely flaccid. “Such a good girl.”

I was incoherent and incapable of offering a response in return. Instead, I buried my face into the side of his neck, smelling the scent of his cologne mixed with sweat and the sex polluting the air around us. His body was firm and warm, and I closed my eyes because everything felt like an incredibly lucid dream.

I was still exhausted from the previous afternoon, unable to walk much further than from my bedroom to the living room before the painful reminder of my unexpected session with Chan started to ache between my legs. There was a movie playing on the television, but I was only somewhat focused on the lazy plot and characters. Instead, I was thinking about my interactions with Chan and Changbin, wondering if the two men were playing some sort of mind game with me.

I only managed to tear myself away from those thoughts when I saw Minho as he walked down the stairs with Felix and Jisung talking about something to do with a sports competition. “There you are!” Felix exclaimed. “We were just talking about your visit to the studio with Jisung.”

“I heard you got a tour,” Minho said. “That was nice of them.”

“Yeah,” I agree because there was a lot more to talk about besides the tour of the dilapidated studio.

“I haven’t had a chance to visit,” Minho said. “But they said I could record my new demo there.”

“Another one!” Felix gasped, looking at my brother with wide eyes. “You’re a fucking genius, man.”

“Oh, I know,” Minho smirked. “Actually, I can show you before my first lecture,” Minho said, starting in the direction of his bedroom.

Jisung watched Felix trail behind Minho before he joined me on the couch. “What did you think of the studio?”

I swallowed hard. “It was fine.”

“I think it’s really nice,” Jisung said. “Chan said something making us a permanent trio! He even gave us a name and everything!”

“Oh?”

“3racha,” Jisung giggled. “It’s like a pun-”

“Yeah, I get it,” I sighed impatiently. “I’m trying to watch the movie.”

Jisung was undeterred by the sharp comment, and he buried himself further into the cushions before turning his attention back to the screen.

“Our first show is tomorrow, Y/N,” Jisung giggled, and I finally turned to look at him. “I hope you can watch?”

“Where?”

“It’s a club somewhere downtown. I can send you the address? I know that Chan and Changbin were both insisting that you come.”

“I’m sure they were,” I grumbled, but Jisung was more interested in talking about his contributions to the album.

“It would mean a lot to me,” he managed after thoroughly explaining their newest concept. “You don’t even have to stay for the whole show.”

“I don’t know...”

“Minho and Felix are coming!” he quickly added, and I wondered if he knew that I would feel more comfortable with my brothers around.

“Okay,” I finally relented, groaning when he started jumping up and down on the couch like an overzealous puppy.

I rode to the club with Minho and Felix who were excitedly chattering about the impending concert while I looked out the window despondently. It felt like a huge risk to show up to the concert considering the recent events concerning my meetings with Chan and Changbin. However, I didn’t want my brothers to be suspicious, so I reluctantly followed them inside where we squeezed together around one of the tables in the middle of an enormous crowd.

The atmosphere was euphoric, draped in a haze of alcohol and the flashing neon lights decorating the stage. It was actually quite civil considering the fact that we were moments away from listening to loud music full of pounding bass and fast rapping. I was half-way convinced that the other guests had no idea what they were actually getting themselves into by coming here tonight.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” an annoucement blared overheard, “please welcome, 3racha!”

The audience started clapping while a familiar melody began softly playing, and the fans around me started to cheer for the three shadowy figures who had suddenly walked onto the stage. “Let’s go!” Chan shouted, beginning his verse of the song which I now recognized as one of the tracks they had played for me at the studio. They were all wearing black, matching the tone and vibe of their music, playing through each track with an infectious energy. However, I was still unnerved because I noticed that they all managed to look at me at some point, even though the crowd, and I was starting to feel hot all over my entire body.

“They’re really good,” Felix remarked, and I nodded in return even though I was finding the table much more interesting.

“Thank you, 3racha!” an overhead announcement said and the audience were rising to their feet in synchrony to offer the artists a round of applause for their stage.

“Jisung sounded amazing!” Felix said as if he couldn’t resist the opportunity to brag about his friend.

“Maybe we can meet them backstage,” Minho suggested, and I halfheartedly protested when my brothers forced me to accompany them.

Subsequently, Minho forced Felix and I to wait by the stage for his friends because he was convinced that I really didn’t have an important project to complete before tomorrow. “You never do anything last minute, Y/N,” he said, smiling when he spotted Chan’s messy hair from the middle of the crowd.

“Hey!” Chan greeted him, accepting Minho’s failed attempt at a cool handshake. Changbin and Jisung followed him, and I couldn’t help but notice how the youngest had started to stumble on his feet.

“You guys did great,” Minho said, talking extensively about his favorite performance while a sudden bombardment of alcohol hit my senses.

I instantly recoiled, covering my nose when the smell grew stronger. “How much did you drink, Jisung?”

“Not much,” the younger boy slurred, and I noticed that his eyes were distant.

“I’ll grab us more drinks,” Changbin said, giving me a familiar dark look before disappearing into the surrounding crowd.

“He’ll be fine,” Felix said, tossing an arm around Jisung’s shoulder. “You deserve to celebrate tonight, man!”

I tugged on Minho’s sleeve to catch his attention, unwittingly drawing Chan’s gaze at the same time. “I think he’s drunk.”

Minho sighed, ready to launch into one of his world-famous lectures, when he was interrupted by the DJ onstage who confronted Chan. “Hey! We couldn’t find you after the show.”

Chan rolled his eyes. “I was out here the entire time.”

“Well, you need to pick up your CD backstage,” the DJ said. “The owners will throw it out tomorrow.”

“I’ll be right there,” Chan grumbled while glaring at the DJ.

“Now,” the man growled and Chan quietly excused himself with a brittle tone. Meanwhile, I had to help Felix with Jisung because his friend was starting to sway dangerously back and forth.

“He needs to go home,” I sighed, watching as Jisung leaned more of his weight against a much smaller Felix.

“I’d take him, but I already had two beers,” Minho said, looking at Felix expectantly.

“Me!” Felix whined. “But I want to stay.”

“He’s your friend,” I glowered.

“Alright,” Minho groaned. “Y/N, you haven’t had anything to drink and you’re way more responsible than Felix.”

It was easy to meet Minho’s stern gaze since this was the perfect opportunity to finally leave the club. “Fine, I’ll take Jisung home.”

“Then it’s settled,” he agreed, tossing me his spare set of car keys. “Take him to our place.”

“Okay,” I said, groaning when Felix helped Jisung wrap his arms around my shoulders and waist. The additional weight was burdensome, and I cursed Jisung under my breath as I helped him through the club to where the bouncer waited at the exit. “I’ll never let you forget this,” I hissed, waiting for the bouncer to open the door while I took one last look over my shoulder to check on my brothers. Instead, I found myself looking directly into Changbin’s dark eyes as he waited by the bar, a familiar smirk making him appear even more dangerous. I shivered in response before I slowly shuffled to the car with Jisung practically breathing down my neck.

When I finally managed to accompany Jisung inside my house, I unceremoniously deposited him on the couch, ignoring the way he groaned in complaint. “I’ll find you some medicine,” I said, searching through one of the side tables.

“It hurts,” Jisung whined, and I rolled my eyes after shoving a bottle of Aspirin in his direction.

“Remember that when you decide to be stupid again.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping two pills into his hand before swallowing them eagerly.

I grimaced as I sat down next to him. “When did you start drinking?”

“Before the show,” Jisung said. “Changbin said it would help take the edge off.”

“Yeah? Do me a favor and don’t listen to him anymore,” I said, frowning when Jisung curled closer to my side. “What are you doing?”

“Tired,” he said, looking up at me with a smile. “You look beautiful.”

I scoffed, trying to push him away, but alcohol apparently made him bolder because he was suddenly twisting one leg around my hip to hold himself in place. “Jisung, you need to stop,” I said, gasping when he brought his lips against mine, kissing me with skill and a surprising amount of tongue. “We can’t do this!”

“Please,” Jisung whined, grinding his hips against my legs. “Just one night, Y/N?”

“Your drunk,” I said, which was only one of a dozen problems with the scenarios currently playing out right in front of my very eyes.

“I’m sober,” Jisung promised, frantically chasing my lips with eager kisses.

It was nothing short of desire, the way he was looking at me, while I watched our clothes end up in a pile around the couch as Jisung fumbled with the condom before I helped him roll it onto his erection. He groaned at the contact, and I moved my hand up and down his cock a few more times before directing him between my legs. Jisung slid inside with a messy exhale, and his arms trembled as they supported his body looming over mine with his delicate frame.

It was a pleasant contradiction because Chan’s thrusts had been nothing short of confident while Jisung’s inexperience showed in the frantic way his hips stuttered against mine. He tried to move faster, losing his previous rhythm, and his cock fell all the way out, erection sliding between my thighs instead. He whined pathetically, rutting against my legs for several moments before he re-adjusted himself deep inside. “Y/N,” he moaned.

“It’s okay,” I told him, petting my fingers along the crown of his head. “You’re doing so good.”

“I like you so much,” Jisung replied earnestly and my heart ached at his words.

He looked unbelievably sinful, eclipsing my body against his as I felt the fabric of the couch against my skin. The friction was delicious, and I focused on the way his cock felt, thrusts growing more and more assured as he finally found a way to please us both, thumb brushing across my clitoris. He was still kissing me, tongue moving across mine deliberately, and I was breathing harshly as I fought to control the rising heat building in my abdomen. It was an intense build-up to an orgasm that I could’ve never anticipated since Jisung was always Felix’s friend who I usually avoided. The same Jisung whose endless flirtations usually annoyed me, but something had changed the moment I looked into his eyes and saw the lust and desire coming together to create an intoxicating mixture.

It was suddenly impossible to ignore the way he made me feel and I felt him come deep inside with a stuttered moan. His hips moved harshly against mine, and I chased my release with a sensual grind of my hips until I was throwing my head back with a cry, groaning when his lips found the sensitive skin of my neck. “Jisung,” I murmured, watching him through a haze of darkness as he rolled over next to me with a moan.

I studied the way Jisung’s hair fanned out across the cushions, making him look angelic beneath the influence of the moon’s light breaking the barrier of the curtains. It made me feel guilty, realizing that I had finally returned Jisung’s feelings only after my tumultuous affairs with Changbin and Chan. In fact, I was nothing more than the very girls I often mocked when they threw themselves at the most popular boys in school. I swallowed hard at the realization. “What have I done?”

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #skz #skz fanfic #seo changbin fanfic #bang chan fanfic #han jisung fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz smut #changbin smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut

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system-society · 2 years

Note

(CW for general venting, headmates coming out of dormancy, and system origin related stress, but not in a sysmed way if that makes sense?)

We always thought we were not traumagenic/actually a DID system as opposed to any other origin, because we were told that it HAD to be severe trauma from before like, age 8-9. But just today we had a headmate come back who was first around when the body was barely 10, and he brought up some.. Pretty rough memories from where we were when he split, and now we're starting to question if we would actually fall under diagnostic criteria, if this means we're traumagenic, or if it even matters. Sorry for kinda rambling here, we just needed to get it out SOMEWHERE before our brain melts out of our head. We're all really tired so maybe this will make sense in the morning, but either way it definitely isn't fun. I guess our general question is, do any of you have any advice for the general stress about what our origin is, and/or have suggestions for helping a headmate who's coming back up? It's hard to get much from him right now, but from what we can understand he's been gone for over a decade. Last he seems to remember, the body was 11/12 and graduating elementary school, and we're now 25

Hey there anon, we absolutely understand that frustration. When we first discovered we were a system, we didn't think we could possibly be a traumagenic system, let alone a DID traumagenic system, because all the DID traumagenic systems we'd already seen seemed to be operating much differently then we were. That, and we didn't remember much of our trauma. But now, we've come to terms with the fact that we do indeed have some traumagenic aspects of our system, and have DID.

It took a lot of digging, questions, reading, and reassurances, but eventually we've reached a somewhat stable point in our system identity. Don't feel bad if you take a while to figure it out, or if you're still unsure. Figuring out things like that takes a long time for some, and that's alright. It's also alright if you figure out much quicker! If you do, congratulations! We're very happy that you were able to figure it out ^^ /gen

One of our current co-hosts, we'll call vaem A, was in a similar situation. He went dormant when the body was 13, and only in the past few months became active again [the body is 17 now]. The adjustment period for him was rough, and we didn't know how to help vaem at first.

But, let me reassure you, it's not going to be difficult the whole journey. There are going to be good parts, and progress. Unfortunately, you can't really rush it if you want it done right. The first piece of advice we have, is give them space and time. Processing being in a body older then what you remember, and the life around you being completely different, is a big change and not easy. It's gonna be frustrating not to Know what's happening, but constantly interrogating or doting on them will not make them any more willing to talk. Remind them that there is no rush to adjusting, and that you are all there to support them through this.

About origin stress, I advise against looking into what your trauma was unless you are absolutely certain you are in a place to handle and process it healthily, or if you have professional help such as a therapist or psychiatrist. Looking before you are ready can bring immense distress, and even cause false memories if you don't believe your trauma was "traumatic enough", which will lead to even more distress and distrust of your own memories. However, if you feel that trauma does affect your origins, but don't want to look into what exact trauma caused it, you are absolutely free to use traumagenic still! Just because you don't remember it does not mean you can't use the label.

We hope this is able to help you or at least reassure you that you& are not alone!

-Mod Thunder

#mod 🌩#mod thunder #answering asks #herb’s advice #herb vents #long post

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

“Warrior”

Awwwwww SHIT. She cannot be stopped, folks.

So I thought about making this an Epilogue to “Helpless”, but I MIGHT turn it into a sequel, if that’s something you guys want. I have so many ideas!!!

Anyway, here is a “Helpless” SEQUEL ONE SHOT as of now.

TBH I love it so much. I was listening to the song and I just couldn’t get this idea out of my head. OH RIGHT, if you haven’t heard Demi Lovato’s “Warrior”, listen to it now. And/or as you read this. I listened to it the entire time I wrote it. Hell I’m still listening to it. LOL.

“Please, Liv?”

Barba was begging his best friend, on his knees in his own office.

“This is ridiculous, Rafa. You’re a grown man. Stop begging,”

“Then promise you’ll do it,”

“I..wha...WHY do you need me to take your girlfriend out?”

“Look she just went through a traumatic event--”

“Um it was pretty traumatic for me too, if you couldn’t tell,”

“Right. I know...Liv, you know I love you,” He put a hand on her shoulder. “But she ALSO lost the one person in the world that she’s had for most of her life. She has no one now,”

“She has you, obviously,”

“Well yeah sure she has me, but I--I can’t be her whole world. She needs friends. And she doesn’t meet anyone because she had to quit her job at Fazzoli’s. So she’s just been my Personal Assistant for the past month until she can find something else, and she’s just…. around, ALL the time,” He explained the past month of your lives.

“Sounds like you’re getting sick of your little hustler,” Liv chuckled.

“DON’T, call her that.” Rafael warned her.

“Why? It’s what she did,” Liv scoffed.

“Olivia...look,” Rafael rubbed his temples. “You are my best friend in the entire world, and I love you. But you have GOT to let this little...grudge against Y/N go,”

“Grudge? What-- She--” Olivia protested, but Rafael cut her off.

“Whatever happened, it’s in the past. We’re putting it behind us, and so should you,”

“Whatever….” Olivia rolled her eyes.

“If you want to keep being my best friend,”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a plea, once again,” He took her hand. “If you truly love me, you will help me help her,” He gave her those puppy dog eyes, the ones she could never resist, even if she wanted to.

“Oh that is DIRTY, Barba,” She pushed him away with her hand over his face.

“Again though, I don’t know what you want me to do. She obviously doesn’t think we’re going to be friends, and all of my friends are your friends-- also, they’re all adults,”

“She’s an adult,”

“....Sure she is,”

“OLIVIA,”

“Okay okay, I just...Oh you know what, I could ask Lucy if her and her friends want to come,” She picked up her phone and flipped through it.

“See? You’re brilliant,” Rafael smiled.

“Whoa there counselor, I’m not sure how excited she is going to be to drag her friends out with her BOSS, her friends and your pet---girlfriend,” She quickly corrected herself, but Barba heard it anyway.

“You’re unbelievable,” He sighed.

“Look I said I would ask her, I didn’t say it would be happy about it,”

“Alright, alright,” He nodded. “Thank you, Liv,” he gave her a small hug then she turned to walk out.

“Don’t make me regret this,” She eyed him. Just then, you came up behind her in the doorway.

“Regret what?”

“Uh...my lunch plans, Rafael suggested a place I haven’t tried,” Olivia pushed her hair behind her ears nervously, looking everywhere around you but your eyes. Classic lying tells, but you really didn’t want to deal with her stuff right now so you left it alone.

“Oh, well have fun detective!” You gave her a cheery smile as she walked out of the office. You handed Rafael one of the two coffees you had brought in.

“Fuel for my baby,” You smiled, kissing him on the cheek. You could see the screaming behind his eyes when he smiled back at you.

“...What?” you raised an eyebrow.

“What, what?” he asked, acting oblivious.

“Rafael, you know I know something is off,”

“Wha… no, not--” he started but you gave him a knowing look. “You said you weren’t going to do that anymore, Y/N,” he was suddenly stern, referring to using your ‘superpower’.

“And I told you, I can’t turn it off!” You reminded him, you had said it in your very first conversation.

“Okay but you can...y’know pretend you don’t see things,” he pointed out.

“Or, you could just tell me why your eyes are screaming for help right now,” you crossed your arms.

“Wha--that--Good lord,” He sighed, taking a swig of his coffee.

“I’m around too much, aren’t I?” You finally stated the obvious, tired of ignoring it anymore.

“No! No no no…” He put a hand to your face. Overly repetitive denial, meant yes.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I don’t have anywhere else to be,” You bit your lip and looked down at the floor. You hated being this helpless, relying on him for everything. Ever since he had left the hospital, you’d moved in with him and took care of him while his shoulder healed. And then when he went back to work, you told him you had to quit working at Fazzoli’s because it was just too hard to go there every day after everything that had transpired there. You really had tried, but you just kept having flashbacks or panic attacks that Arianna would come walking through the door and take you away again.

Rafael was totally understanding, as usual. He told you that you could be his Assistant for the time being, which really just meant you followed him around all day like a puppy. And he was paying you with his salary, so he was basically just giving you money. You hated it; you were used to being completely independent-- sort of.

Sure Arianna ‘protected’ you, but it wasn’t like you were a baby bird. You had been through so many horrific things in your short life, all on your own. You knew how to survive in the mean streets of NYC, making your own money. You were like a bulldog, and now you were a lap dog.

“Hey,” Rafael picked your head up back to face him. “I know. I’m not blaming you for anything,”

“But you are sick of me,”

“I just...I think you need more people in your life, that’s all,” he stroked your hair.

“Yeah, I know,” you shrugged.

He was right, but you weren’t used to having more than one person looking out for you, or vice versa. You didn’t really know what it was like to have a normal friend, and your serious trust issues really didn’t help the situation. Rafael had tried to get you to go to therapy to work through your “issues”, but you didn’t trust your therapist, which made the whole thing moot.

“...Wait, so what were you actually talking about with Liv?”

“She told you, I was--”

“Can we not do this again,” You rolled your eyes.

“....Alright fair enough,” He sighed, giving up. “I asked Olivia if she knew of any girls that might want to ‘hang out’ with you,”

“Oh my god, Rafa!” You were humiliated.

“God now I’m like that weird kid in class who eats paste, and her parents have to to talk to the teacher who makes the other kids be her friend,”

“....That’s a weirdly specific scenario,” he raised an eyebrow.

“...Yeah, well-- not my first time,” You shrugged sadly.

“Aw honey,” He half laughed, taking your into his arms and kissing your forehead. “I would’ve been your friend, no matter what you ate,”

“Yeah well considering you were probably in high school when I was in elementary, I doubt it,” You smirked.

“Ooof, below the belt,” He put both hands over his crotch with a pained expression.

“I’m sorry,” you stuck your tongue out with a smile. “But you kinda deserve it, trying to beg people to be my friend,”

“I didn’t BEG…” He started, but saw that look in your eyes. “Okay but it worked,” He came clean.

“Oh Olivia and I are gonna have a girls night? Are we gonna braid each other’s hair and talk about boys we like? OH WAIT,” You made sarcastic gestures. “We like the same boy!” You rolled your eyes.

“I mean, I can’t blame you. He’s pretty awesome,” He smirked.

“And so not full of himself,” You pulled on his collar towards you.

“Not at all,” He kept smirking, as he placed his lips over yours.

Just then Barba’s phone vibrated-- a text from Liv.

“KARAOKE NIGHT. TONIGHT. 8PM,”

“Uh….well, I guess you might be right?” He showed his phone. It vibrated again, another text came in as your were reading it.

“LUCY AND FRIENDS, YOU BETTER BE THERE TOO. I’M NOT A BABYSITTER,”

“Well, she is just lovely,” you handed it back to him with a roll of your eyes.

“Hey, at least she’s trying,” he texted a reply to Liv.

“Can you try as well? Please?” He asked you while looking at you with the same puppy dog eyes, Liv wasn’t the only one who couldn’t resist them.

“Fine…” you sighed, and he rewarded you with a kiss.

“I need something to wear,” You batted your eyes, to which he rolled his own and pulled out his credit card.

“See? I’m leaving you alone, it’s working already!” You giggled, walking out of the office to go shopping.

------

That night, you and Rafael showed up to a place called TOP5.. It was a fun, trendy hipster restaurant. There were several booths, some tables, even a few couches for people to chill. And in front of everything was a huge stage, with a piano next to it. But there was also a DJ, spinning records.

Rafael noticed Olivia waving to him; he lead you to a giant half booth half table where Olivia, Rollins, Fin, Carisi, and four young girls you had never met before sat with drinks in their hands.

“How did you get these guys out?” Rafael gestured to the squad.

“I asked them nicely,” She smiled.

“Yeah, if ‘nice’ means it was either this or catching up on paperwork all night,” Fin rolled his eyes.

“This is Lucy, my nanny,” Olivia pointed the young girl next to her, who gave a small wave.

“And these are my friends Riley, Lexi and Brianne,” Lucy pointed to each of her friends, who also did a wave as they heard their name.

“Rafael Barba,” he nodded to the girls. “And this is my--”

“Y/N,” You interjected, introducing yourself. You were determined NOT to just be “Rafael’s Girlfriend” anymore.

“So we were looking through some songs, I don’t think anyone’s brave enough to go up there though,” Lexi informed you, gesturing to a huge black binder in front of her and her friends.

“More like not drunk enough,” Lucy laughed.

“Hey we can fix that!” Brianne giggled, calling for shots from the bar.

“Great idea Barba, it’s like we’re chaperoning,” Amanda whispered to Rafael, who rolled his eyes and nodded to a waiter for a scotch.

“May I?” You asked Riley, sliding the book in front of you. You flipped through a binder, until a song stood out to you. It was like it was screaming to you from the page.

You had heard so many “therapeutic” mantras over the past month, people trying help you get over your trauma. Talk it out, they said. You need to get it out.

Well, this was one way.

You excused yourself and walked up to the DJ, whispered something to which he nodded, and went to the mic.

“Alright alright, looks like we have our first vict--I mean, superstar!” He joked. You seriously thought about punching him in the face for using “victim” as a joke, but you knew that was the trauma talking. And you were to fix that, not indulge it.

The music started, and you just let the words spill out:

This is a story that I have never told

I gotta get this off my chest to let it go

I need to take back the light inside you stole

You're a criminal

And you steal like you're a pro

All the pain and the truth

I wear like a battle wound

So ashamed, so confused

I was broken and bruised

Thoughts of you and Arianna’s life together ran through your mind like a movie montage as you sang. The words were so scary accurate.

Now I'm a warrior

Now I've got thicker skin

I'm a warrior

I'm stronger than I've ever been

And my armor, is made of steel, you can't get in

I'm a warrior

And you can never hurt me again

That first chorus felt like you were letting out a huge breath you had been holding in for God knows how long. You wanted Olivia, Rafel, the squad...EVERYONE to know, that you weren’t this helpless little lamb they had seen for the past month.

Out of the ashes, burning like a fire

You can save your apologies

You're nothing but a liar

I've got shame, I've got scars

But I will never show

I'm a survivor

In more ways than you know

'Cause all the pain and the truth

I wear like a battle wound

So ashamed, so confused

I'm not broken and bruised

Now the flashbacks of the real trauma you had been through came pulsing through your mind. Horrors that still kept you up at night; you’d have night terrors sometimes but had hidden them from Rafael so far. He didn’t need to know just how fucked up you truly were. None of it mattered now anyway, you were a survivor. And you had the scars to prove it.

'Cause now I'm a warrior

Now I've got thicker skin

I'm a warrior

I'm stronger than I've ever been

And my armor, is made of steel, you can't get in

I'm a warrior

And you can never hurt me

There's a part of me I can't get back

A little girl grew up too fast

All it took was once, I'll never be the same

Now I'm taking back my life today

Nothing left that you can say

'Cause you were never gonna take the blame anyway

You thought of everything Arianna had taken from you. Sure your childhood was shit, but you were fairly young when she convinced you to run away with her. You could have stayed in your small town, found a decent job. Lived a normal life, with normal friends. But she sucked you into your life of crime and deceit, all while telling you it was perfectly fine, and that she loved you. But it was all bullshit, all of it. You saw that now. And now if she ever came back into your life and tried to convince you of anything, you wouldn’t fall back into her lies.

You took a breath before the last chorus, suddenly feeling your face getting wet. You realized you had started crying while you were singing, but for some reason you weren’t ashamed of it. It actually made you feel stronger, like letting your tears wash the pain and shame from yourself.

Now I'm a warrior

I've got thicker skin

Now I'm a warrior

I'm stronger than I've ever been

And my armor, is made of steel, you can't get in

I'm a warrior

And you can never hurt me again

You finished the song in a whisper as your head dropped to looking at the floor. You were exhausted from the mental journey that song had taken you on. You had never felt so...free. Before you could even look up, the room erupted in applause.

You lifted your head to see everyone in the room giving you a standing ovation...even Olivia, who you could swear had tears in her eyes.

You gave a sheepish smile and a curtsy, quickly getting off the stage and returning to your booth, where not a face was dry.

“...Aww, guys...,” You didn’t know what to say; you had never been that open and vulnerable to ANYONE before, and here you had gone and ripped your soul open in front of a group of strangers.

“That was--”

Olivia came around and hugged you, a genuine hug. It lasted uncomfortably long, so you had to break it with a confused smile.

“I’m sorry I judged you,” She apologized, and you saw the absolute sincerity and guilt written all over her face.

“It’s fine, if I were you I would’ve judged me too,” you gave her an understanding smile.

She nodded, giving Rafael an apologetic look as well, to which he took her hand and pulled her into a hug.

“So, who’s next?!” You smiled, pushing the binder to the middle of the table. Protests and laughs began at the table, bickering about who was drunk enough to follow you.

Rafael leaned over to you, whispering in your ear over the noise of the crowd.

“You’re the bravest warrior I know, Y/N” He wiped tears from his eyes, kissing your cheek.

“Yes. Yes, I am,” you smiled, wiping the rest of his tears as you kissed him.

And for the first time maybe ever, you believed it.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #warrior #helpless

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