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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

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peeping tom(mina)

— Mina finds a peephole in her room that looks directly into your room and discovers a sight that slightly rocks her entire life.

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pairing: ashido mina x fem!reader

warning: 18+, smut, voyeur!mina, mutual masturbation, vibrator, dildos, finger fucking, cursing, peephole, lesbianism

word count: 2,815

a/n: sorry its a day late!!!! have some pervy roommate mina rn and some abo shiggy in about a few hours!!!!

kinktober day 11 main kink: voyeurism | kinktober masterlist

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Mina has a dirty secret.

And just thinking about it makes her shy, and she has never been a shy girl.

Since she could fully understand what sex was, she had always been someone who was incredibly sex-positive. Mina was also a full-body worshiper, someone who found everyone’s bodies hot and attractive. It never really surprised anyone when they found this out. She was always the type to point out how that person’s ass looked hot in jeans, or how that shirt made that person’s boobs look full, soft, and luscious. She held back at absolutely nothing, making sure to let everyone know her opinion on how and why she currently found them attractive.

So the ones she would eventually bring to bed were also unsurprised by the enthusiasm she held when she kissed down their bodies, fingers massaging every piece of skin and muscle as she moaned praises. To Mina, bodies were a temple, and when she was visiting, she was going to make sure you knew how fascinating she thought it to be.

Even now, at twenty-two, she never hated pointing out what she thought to be positive about people’s bodies. It was almost second nature.

“Can you please tell me why your legs look hot as fuck in those sweats?!” Mina practically screamed, dramatically fanning herself when you walked into the kitchen.

It was Saturday night, and Mina found herself in her apartment, blinds are drawn open, blankets were strewn around the living room, and hot homemade food sizzling on the stove. You were her roommate, and you’ve been her roommate for about seven months now. Both of you had met in a college class, being paired up multiple times for a few projects in the year had created an unlikely friendship that resulted in a roommate contract because you were moving to Tokyo after graduation, and hey! So was Mina!

You snorted by the stove, flipping the sweet crepes you had been making for the both of you in the pan. Turning your head to look at Mina, you playfully winked at her, posing your body in faux-seductive ways while you dipped your head back.

“What can I say, the sweats of a heartbroken ex always look hotter on a champions fat ass.”

Mina laughed loudly, her hands bringing her sweet rosé to her lips, taking a long, deep drink of the alcoholic beverage. “I can’t believe you keep your exes clothes! I burn all of mine,” Mina states as if the two of you hadn’t already had this conversation a thousand times.

“I don’t think you can talk!” you scoff, spatula in hand, flipping the light sweet into a roll. “You’re the one who goes and buys actual metals for every successive man you fuck! And you have sooo many metals!”

Also, something that had been repeated a million times, and yet never failed to get either one of you two in some laughing flush.

“I do have so many metals,” Mina sighs, the grin on her face bright and proud while you walk over, crepes in hand. Thanking you for the food, Mina waited for you to settle down next to her before resuming the movie the two of you had decided to watch. “I promise, y/n, if you just look a guy in the eye and tell him you like his shoulders and his thighs, you’ll get him in bed in a blink of an eye.”

You hum, taking a chug of the rosé straight from the bottle, releasing it with a small pop that made Mina’s eyes rest on your swollen, wet lips.

“Yeah, no. You see, I’m not really interested in that sort of stuff,” you admit, taking a bite from the crepe as the movie slowly becomes background noise.

“You haven’t dated anyone since high school,” Mina more than points out, tugging at the indeed high school logoed sweatpants. “That was like, four years ago, and you don’t sleep around?! What is it? You waiting for the Prince of some unknown country to come and wed you without you realizing he’s a prince? I mean, you can totally do that, especially with that hot bod of yours, but I know all the princes our age, none of them are even remotely hot!”

Mina watched as your eyes dropped to your food, the smile on your face small, maybe a bit... sad?

“It’s not that,” you shrugged, your eyes moving to lock on Mina. “Mina, I’m gay.”

What?

Processing Data…

Data Processed. Please Continue.

“WHAT?!”

A shit-eating grin spread on your face, and you nodded, taking another gulp of the rosé and shoving more crepe in your mouth.

“YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU ALLOWED ME TO HAVE HETEROSEXUAL SEX WITH YOU IN THE APARTMENT AND DIDN’T TELL ME?!” Mina shrieked, suddenly mortified with her actions as her fingers clenched her curly pink hair. “WHAT ABOUT ALL THOSE MEN I TRIED HOOKING YOU UP WITH?! I mean, I know you didn’t fuck any of them, which ended up all fine because I would have cried if Kiri, Denki, or Sero stopped showing up.”

“Mina!” you laughed.

“I can’t believe you allowed me to force men on you; I’m so sorry, sweetie!”

Mina froze when your warm fingers suddenly grabbed onto hers, pulling her cold palms near your chest as your slightly glazed with alcohol eyes took her in.

“Listen, Mina, I’ll say this once, and I’ll repeat this. I didn’t tell you because I don’t care to share my sexuality. Not only that but all those men you introduced me to almost made me wish I was straight! Almost, but they’re a bit too…” Mina watched you trail off, your hammering heart a gentle smooth on her fingers.

“Stupid?” Mina tried, and you laughed as you nodded.

“Yeah, stupid.”

Mina gulped, her head nodding while you finally let go of her hands and sighed.

“Don’t be weird about it, Pinky,” you muse, shoving your shoulder against her. “I won’t hit on ya.”

Mina scoffed, clearly offended, “I think you should, though, my body is hot, and my kisses are just as good.”

It was said in jest, and Mina’s heart fluttered at the way you laughed with her in good spirits. That was normal, right?

Eventually, the contents of the rosé disappeared between the two of you, the movie long done, and the crepes sitting warm and sweet in your stomachs. Mina smiled brightly as she waved at you a simple goodnight as she needed to reorganize her snacks cabinet. Hearing the small click of your room door, Mina slumped against the counter, a weird feeling in her brain at the sudden revelation from you.

It didn’t make you any different in her eyes, she wasn’t a bigot, but there was something different.

Something new.

The cabinet wasn’t fixed up at all, Mina’s attention span forbidding her from reorganizing the cabinet until she turned off the lights and dragged her feet back into her room, conveniently located directly next to yours.

The apartment layout was weird.

Instead of a typical hallway separating the two rooms, it was a single, thin wall.

Now, Mina would categorize herself as many things, but dramatic was never one of them. But the way she had slammed her door in an attempt to clear the muggy storm of her thoughts might have been dramatic of her. Maybe a bit too dramatic.

A loud tear came from the right side of her room, and Mina gasped loudly as the shelf showcasing her plethora of medals for all her sexual conquests tore the wall as it fell off. Stupid heavy bitch! Racing over to the wall, Mina frantically grabbed at the tearing cheap wallpaper, her eyes wide with worry as she tried to fix the shelf to no avail.

“M-Mina, are you okay?” a gasped breath came from the direct another side of the wall.

“It’s all good!” Mina laughed loudly, her heart pounding because she was going to confess what was going on the second you asked again, as you usually do. But the only thing that followed was the roaring of her blood and heart as she stared at the wall.

Weird.

Mina didn’t dwell on it for too long, her hands throwing the medals off the shelf and onto the bed as she picked at the wall. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

She grazed the center of the wall and watched in horror as the wall crumbled at the touch, and she bit her tongue to keep from hysterically sobbing as a hole opened up from your room to hers. All things considered, it wasn’t a big hole, no bigger than the diameter of her pinky, but it was still a hole in the wall.

Despite the crack in the wall, Mina swore or prayed that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Pressing to the hole, she peered in and froze immediately.

There weren’t many things in the world that made Mina freeze, but this was one of them. Her eye pressed to the wall saw that you were on the bed. Your sweats dropped around your ankles, shirt bunched above your breasts so that your fingers twisted and pulled at your nipples. The other hand held a vibrator to your clit.

Your face was scrunched up, the low hum of the vibrator suddenly piercing through the small crack in the wall, alerting Mina of a straight fire that erupted between her thighs as she watched you fuck yourself. The arch of your back when you come off the mattress makes her thighs rub together, and how your lips part in what she knows to be the most delicious moan, she’s ever managed to hear.

Mina isn’t sure when you stop masturbating that night, or even more importantly: when her panties became as fucking wet as they are.

She manages to put the shelf back onto the wall, her face absolutely red as she turns off the lights, ashamed to even go to the bathroom despite the discomfort of the slick between her folds. She dreams of having your mouth between her legs that night.

It doesn’t stop there, Mina’s ashamed to admit.

As a matter of fact, she’s probably obsessed.

She definitely didn’t keep her ear to the wall, desperately waiting to hear the low hum of the vibrator through the wall. She definitely didn’t pull the still broken shelf from the wall to peer through that crack to watch as you fucked yourself. She definitely does not, and she means, does not rub her fingers against her clit as she watches you.

But what was she currently doing when she heard the all too familiar consistent humming of one of your plenty of vibrators? She was stumbling off her bed, throwing the shelf off the wall, and using the crack in the wall to stare into your room. Except as she now unashamedly moved her fingers into her swats, fingertips grazing her already humming clit, she froze at the new sight she saw.

Typically, when you masturbated, you would lay along your bed. Your body laid out flat from the side for Mina to see. She never actually saw the slick of your cunt, or the way your pretty cunt would look like as you fucked yourself against a dildo. But today? Oh god, today was different.

You were propped up against the wall, your legs pressed open for Mina to see in all your glory. Your slicked, pretty pussy revealed for her eyes, and your head leaning against the wall as she watched.

Mina moaned as her fingers began to rub her clit, the already fluttering, simmering sensation radiating from her bundle of nerves too tight, too demanding to ignore. She circled her clit as your fingers dipped into your core, and she bit her lower lip at the refined look of elation that wiped over your face.

Your fingers moved in and out of your cunt, and Mina was hooked on the very exact angle your fingers were going in. Her mind wandering as she imagined that it was her in there with you. That it was her holding her fingers to your cunt, and not just fantasizes that drove her insane. Mina gasped as suddenly the dormant warmth in her legs sparked into a growing fire that made her legs shake and had her resting her forehead upon the wall.

Her eyes struggled to open when your feet kicked up off the mattress, toes curled to the balls of your feet as you keened loudly. A whimper left her lips at the way you moaned, the soft, beautiful sounds making Mina sink an impatient hand in her core.

She fucked herself, her eyes fluttering, lips gasping for air as she pressing her warm fingers against her even warmer walls. Mina gasped your name, her eyes trying to focus on that wall, and was absolutely frozen at the sight she saw next.

You were holding a double ended dildo to your cunt, fucking your sopping wet cunt that Mina swore she could hear from her room. The vibrator was still on your clit, and Mina snapped her hips further, stronger into her scissoring fingers. It felt like you were teasing her with the toy as if you knew she was watching in and were teasing and testing her limits. Mina could feel herself shoving that dildo as far up her cunt as she could get it, her hands holding on to your beautiful thighs and bringing you in so that your slick cunts could grind against each other, fuck each other properly. If her brain wasn’t so muddled, she wouldn’t be thinking you were looking at her right now through the peephole, and she wouldn’t be thinking about the million different ways she’d fuck you given the opportunity. She wondered if you had a strap. Would you wear it if her fantasies were to ever come true? Would she?

Mina couldn’t dwell on the secrets she wished to know because suddenly, you let out one of the loudest, most lewd moans Mina had ever heard emitted from your swollen lips. The slick of her heat and the wet of her essence easily letting her fingers glide about her clenching walls with practiced, well-known ease. You gasped, your eyes fluttering to the back of your head as your hand holding the dildo became more frantic, sloppier, before stopping altogether, and although you had reached an orgasm — Mina swore she saw god.

Your orgasmic euphoric face was unlike anything Mina had ever seen.

The flustered, quiet pleasure reeking from every small line in your face, the way your mouth dropped just enough so that your pink tongue was on full display, the way you fought between biting down on your lip or letting yourself moan in your high. But it was the way your eyes crossed that sent Mina’s forehead slamming against her fist on the wall, muting the way Mina felt her walls clench wildly and tightly around her curled, lithe fingers.

She breathed in her descent, her cheeks burning with the same and bliss she always felt after orgasming. It wasn’t fair she came so soon watching you fuck yourself, especially as she knew she typically took so long in bed with men to make cum.

“Do you want to try it out?” your voice slipped into the room, and Mina froze, her blood suddenly turning ice cold. Her eyes snapped back to the dirty peephole to see that you were, in fact, staring into the hole, hand sliding the dildo into your cunt still, still willing and ready to go more round. “It gets a little lonely putting on a show for you night after night, Mina, and for you to never come and collect your prize.”

Mina swallowed, her eyes blinking owlishly at the way you shifted forward, turning so that your ass was in the air, knees, and chest on the mattress.

You knew.

“Come and collect your prize, please.”

“Y-Yes!”

Mina learned two things that night.

One: she especially and equally enjoyed having listless amounts of body worship mantra on her skin. The feeling of wet lips and hot breathes with things she was so used to giving made her cum around your pretty little fingers much more than she’d ever thought possible.

Two: you had known after the first night that she had caught you masturbating. Apparently, Mina was much louder than she thought herself to be, and when whining your name — she doesn’t remember even speaking — you had known and did all you could to finally getting your impulsive roommate to fuck you.

Oh, and I guess there is one more thing too!

Three: Mina had the absolute hots for you and was going to take you out for a proper date, tomorrow.

#mina x reader #mina smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #bbs kinktober 2020

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itsnotwierditsart13 · 3 years

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Holy Shit (ronance fanfic)

A small little fic about Robin and Nancy getting together:)

It was a thankfully slow day at Family Video as Robin and Steve worked their shift together. Robin was building a new cardboard display case for a shipment that was supposed to have arrived hours ago. Everything was always moving in slow motion at this job, though, and Robin enjoyed it thoroughly. Meanwhile, Steve couldn’t even bother to look busy as he slumped in the one old raggedy chair that Keith allowed them to have. It was pouring rain outside, the windows rattling from thunder every so often. There were probably going to be at least 2 more customers coming in before they closed in four hours. Mostly just older ladies who shouldn’t be driving a car, let alone in the poor weather conditions. Ms. Matheson, a store regular, never rewound her tapes fully, always halfway. It drove Steve crazy, even though he expected it.

“We should have Nancy come by, since it’s so dead,” Steve stated casually as if he didn’t have ulterior motives. He was slumped in his chair, eyeballing Robin for any type of reaction. It was clear that she had feelings for Nancy. After everything that had happened at Starcourt the four of them had formed a bond. Hanging out together most days, sometimes including the kids.

“Don’t start,” Robin replied while flinging a piece of cardboard at him. It narrowly missed his head and landed on the dirty carpet behind him. “She’s my friend and straight, if you’ve forgotten. I’m not gonna indulge in whatever you’ve cooked up in that head of yours.” There was another boom of thunder, drowning out Steve’s exasperated sigh. It was the same conversation they’ve had about twenty times since Steve had picked up on Robin’s feelings.

“It’s just...sometimes when she’s looking at you. She’s looking at you. Ya know?” Steve explained. He was entirely convinced that Nancy felt at least something more than friendly for Robin. The two acted differently around each other. “And she knows you’re a lady lover. Maybe you’re like her gay awakening or something,” he finished, causing Robin to raise an eyebrow at him from across the counter.

“Whatever you say, Dingus.” It was clear that Robin didn’t believe a word he said. “Now, can you make yourself useful and hand me the duct tape,” she gestured to the roll that was out of her reach. He rolled his eyes as he passed it over to her.

He didn’t have the heart to mention that she was building it upside down.

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Robin was beginning to lose her mind at a rapid rate. It was clear Steve was going to be no help in the situation as he sat on the far end of the couch, minding his business.

The three of them, minus Johnathan, had decided to have a casual Friday night movie marathon. That was nothing out of the ordinary, except the minute Steve flicked the lights off and started ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’ Robin’s brain almost short circuited. Nancy, who was previously sitting a good distance away, curled into Robin’s side like it was the most casual thing in the world. She wiggled around enough that Robin had no choice but to wrap an arm around her small shoulders. They were now fifteen minutes into the film and Robin couldn’t process anything that was happening. She knew that her body was rigid and stiff, almost like a statue, but it was impossible to relax. What was Nancy doing? Sure, they had hugged before and the occasional times they’ve had to sit closely. Nothing like this had ever occurred, though.

Nancy seemed relaxed and engrossed in the movie. Robin had been side-eyeing her. Meanwhile, Steve continued to act like nothing strange was happening. Although Robin knew that he was fully aware of the situation at hand. The asshole was probably feeling pretty smug currently. Robin would’ve thrown popcorn at his stupid hair if her arm wasn’t already occupied. Despite the growing anxiety, it felt good to have Nancy against her. The girl was warm and small enough that she fit perfectly under her arm. Nancy’s arm that wasn’t wedged between them was laying gently across Robin’s stomach. It was all so...intimate. Robin had no idea what to think of it. This was the closest she had ever been to another girl before. On top of the fact that she had feelings for said girl.

That thought alone filled her with guilt almost immediately. Nancy was probably used to cuddling up to her girl friends like this, why should Robin be any different. The fact that Robin was a lesbian probably wasn’t even a thought in Nancy’s mind. The girl had taken the news in stride when Robin had slipped up and came out accidentally a month ago. Here Robin was, though, catching feelings for an innocent straight girl. A straight girl who was currently happily tucked into her side. Shit.

Robin stood up abruptly, dislodging Nancy and causing Steve to startle slightly. “Um, I have to pee,” she mumbled out unconvincingly before taking off down the short hallway. When she was finally locked in Steve’s small bathroom she let out a sigh of frustration. It was times like these that she wished she could just be normal. It took another few minutes to calm herself down enough but she knew she had to return to the couch eventually. It would look suspicious if she hid in the bathroom all night.

When she walked back out into the darkened room, Nancy glanced over at her with an unreadable expression. She quietly sat back down and did her best to avoid the two pairs of eyes that she could feel on her every so often.

Nancy kept her distance for the rest of the night.

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A week had passed since the ‘Movie Night incident’, as Steve had dubbed it, and things had only gotten stranger. To Robin’s horror, Nancy had been touchy feely with her every chance she got. Such as, entwining their hands while walking or resting her legs over Robin’s in the car. It was causing Robin to be in constant gay panic mode, which was exhausting to say the least. The more it occurred, the more Steve found it entirely amusing, though. Also, Nancy was always hanging around with them at the Video store. She’d stop in and bring them lunch, even if it was just for a few minutes. It was as if Nancy was doing everything in her power to give Robin a heart attack.

Despite everything, Robin could only feel herself falling harder for the other girl. It pissed her off. She could barely focus when the other girl was around. Currently, she was trying not to stare as Nancy walked into the store with all the kids trailing behind her. Dustin immediately made a beeline for Steve, who was stocking shelves. The others all screamed over each other about which movie to rent. Will, with his sweetheart face, gave a small wave to Robin as he passed. He would always be her favorite of the bunch.

“Hey Robin,” Nancy greeted casually, a small smirk on her face. She wore that expression a lot now and Robin couldn’t decipher it to save her life. “Sorry for the midday child tornado. I’m dropping them off at the Byers house but they wanted to stop for movies,” she joked. Robin had to swallow around the lump that had formed in her throat and waved her arm dismissively.

“Please, it’s been bleak around here anyway. The only person I’ve had to talk to was Dingus,” Robin responded, gesturing over to Steve, who was now surrounded by all the kids. He was probably getting ready to hand them over a movie that they shouldn't be watching at their age. Nancy let out a laugh and stepped forward until she was standing directly in front of Robin.

“Yeah, I know the feeling. Especially when I’m stuck watching Mike while our parents are out,” she spoke and then paused, leaning in a bit more. “Although, I am pretty jealous that he gets to hangout with you all day. Even if you have to deal with customer service.” Robin held her breath as Nancy just kind of stared at her with that same unreadable smirk. Before anything else could transpire between them, Max sprinted through them towards the register. The others followed behind soon after, all yelling about her movie choice. Nancy just rolled her eyes while Robin finally let air into her lungs again. The spell was broken after that as they both made their way over to the, still arguing, group.

Robin didn’t miss Steve making kissy faces at her from behind Nancy’s back. He’d seen the whole exchange.

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Another week passed by in much the same fashion. It all came crashing to a sudden halt when Nancy had stopped by the store on a Sunday afternoon. Steve wasn’t scheduled and it was just Robin watching the counter by herself. Nancy had only been there an hour before flustering Robin to her breaking point.

“Okay!” Robin shouted, causing Nancy to startle and take a step back. They had just finished their coffees that Nancy had gotten them while talking easily. When there was a moment of silence Nancy got that smirk on her face again. The one she’d been sporting constantly the last two weeks. Out of the blue, as if it wasn’t a huge deal, Nancy leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You can’t do that! You’re gonna kill me!” Robin continued to rant. She could feel the heat rushing to her face as Nancy just stared at her with wide eyes.

“Do you…um? Do you not have feelings for me?” Nancy asked hesitantly with confusion in her voice.

Robin sucked in a breath of air so forcefully that it made her cough a little. “What!” she wheezed out, grabbing ahold of the counter. Nancy had the decency to look sheepish as she shrugged her shoulders gently.

“I sort of overheard you and Steve talking about me. More specifically that you...liked me. But now I’m realizing I’m an idiot and probably misinterpreted the conversation,” she finished, taking another hesitant step back from Robin. “Oh god, you probably think I’m a freak now.” Robin just continued to stare at the other girl in shock. “You were just trying to be my friend and I was touching you constantly. I am so sorry,” Nancy ranted while waving her hands around anxiously. It was clear she was working herself up into an all out panic attack.

“Wait,” Robin startled, holding her hand up suddenly. “You were flirting with me?” The statement caused Nancy to stop her pacing and look at Robin.

“Well...yeah. Obviously,” she gritted out aggressively and crossed her arms over herself.

“Do you have feelings for me?” Robin yelped back. Nancy just scoffed and let out a bitter laugh.

“Jesus Christ, Robin, you’re really gonna make me say it? Yes...I like you, a lot. You’re funny and caring and I just feel comfortable around you,” Nancy’s words were mumbled out but Robin caught the whole thing.

“Holy shit, Nance,” Robin breathed out in disbelief. The other girl just looked up and glared back at her. With that look, Robin realized what a dumbass she’d been and smiled widely. Before Nancy could comment on it, Robin gathered all her courage and leaned forward to connect their lips. It took a few seconds for Nancy, who was probably confused, to kiss back. They stood there kissing gently while everything else around them faded away. Robin wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, pulling them as close as possible. She could feel Nancy smiling into the kiss.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later the sound of the door chiming broke them apart. Luckily, they were behind a shelf so the visitor couldn’t have seen what they were doing. Robin just rolled her eyes as Steve came strolling around the corner, though. Of course he’d make an appearance even on his day off. When he spotted the two of them he stopped dead in his tracks. It only took a moment for him to take note of Nancy’s blush before he smiled widely.

“You two look like you’re having fun,” he stated. In the next second he had to dodge Nancy’s swatting hands. Robin couldn’t keep the smile off her face even if she tried.

#ronance #ronance fanfic #robin/nancy #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #stranger things

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freddiekluger · 3 years

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I am all ears for your season 3 cap's big gay awakening ideas 👀👀

alright, you asked so sit down and strap in

before we get started- a few details are recycled/repurposed from earlier headcanons/ask answers (characterisation is like that), and i came up with all this a couple weeks back, so any overlap with other peoples suggestions is totally unintentional! i’ve just been finding the energy to properly write them up as originally i riffed them with a friend late at night lmao

the captain: homo evolution

introduction (scroll down if you’re not bothered for the hardcore analysis/logic)

this isn’t necessarily what i think WILL happen as much as how i would do it. over the past two seasons of Ghosts, we’ve seen the captain’s main character arc being centred around him loosening up, from learning to value mike, alison, and the other ghosts more as equals than soldiers/means to an end to the season 2 finale, where cap is not only expressing an interest in flowers and fashion (distinctly un-soldierly pursuits) but joining the party and other men (the direct opposite of About Last Night, in which cap bah humbugs partying/’gay abandon’ and is left speechless by the mere presence of a mostly naked man). that being said, the captain is still the captain: his character is still centred around this need for rules and structure and he still finds his identity in the archetypal WW2 military man- all of his incremental moves towards a more ‘modern’ perspective have ultimately been made possible because, like Ben said on twitter, the captain isn’t CONSCIOUSLY aware that he’s gay. he has the underlying feeling that he’s different, he knows of his tendency to attach himself to specific men and form incredibly close bonds (and, as demonstrated by his attempts to hide them, is at least somewhat aware that that’s not the norm), but in his mind he’s written that off as merely “not being a ladies man”.

the captain is from the 1940s- it’s one thing for him to see and be supportive of a same-gender wedding in present day England where gay=legal unions, marketed doritos, and homophobia being still present but generally frowned upon, and another thing entirely for him to have to apply it to himself. we’ve already seen that the captain appears to be stuck in the past more than any of the other ghosts (”the war is over!” “is it, alison? is it?”- he also references the past more frequently than most of the others), and in his past sodomite gay=punishable by imprisonment and chemical castration, back alley hookups, and the constant threat of blackmail and violence. obviously, despite all this, there was a vibrant underground queer history taking place in England during this time & not all of the above is accurate, but it’s what cap would have seen, and the England of the early 20th century is denoted as being a particularly brutal period for lgbtq+ folks (the destruction of the first world war exacerbated rage and frustration, and lgbtq+ people weren’t the only gorup to end up on the receiving end of that, but i digress). this is basiclly just a really long way of me saying that the captain compartmentalising to that degree was, and to some extent is, a survival mechanism. confronting his homoseuxality means confronting what it means for a 1940s man to be a dreaded homosexual, and all of that directly conflicts with the image of ‘the Captain’ he’s built in his mind.

we’ve seen this in Redding Weddy, where the captain is aware that Havers means/meant more to him than was normal for a captain/2ic relationship (he does attempts to hide his affection- “i shall miss you, Havers. by which of course i mean we shall miss you “he left me, i mean he left for the front”), but is never able to fully verbalise WHY, and it only takes a series of increasingly dramatic prompts before he will even mention the idea of Havers, let alone begin to articulate their relationship.

all this just goes to prove that for the captain to properly ‘come out’, there needs to be an external inciting incident- he could easily have gone on shadowing attractive men whenever they visit and avoiding interrogating those feelings for another seventy years if Button house remained without alison and mike.

while at least julian, pat, and robin have noticed that the cap is not the most heteroseual of men (they’re the only ghosts who have visibly reacted when cap says gay shit), they all appear to have decided to just not mention it, which makes alison and mike our wildcards. not only has alison’s ability to see and communicate with the ghosts already connected them more to the modern world than they ever have been, alison, and mike by extension, has a personal stake in the wellbeing/general growth of the ghosts. happy ghosts=happy house, and like it or not some of them are even beginning to become friends. [i probably didn’t need to write all this like explaining my decisions, but i think figuring out the motivations behind everyon just develops the flavour and lets us have a sexy and accurate headcanon]

so,

the episode

while the captain might not consciously know he’s a fruit (derogatory), he is well and truly terrible at concealing the thirst (it’s not his fault things just keep slipping out!)- i love the idea of just having a supercut near the beginning of the episode that just shows that the captain has gotten even GAYER since last season, with slip ups becoming almost a daily occurence, but it’s getting to the point where it’s actually becoming a serious hazard. last week, he was supposed to be looking out for alison while attempted to put up blinds, but one of mike’s friends (who was over ‘helping out’, which mostly meant eating chips and covering himself in paint) walked through the room with his shirt off and paint handprints on the seat of his shorts, distracting the captain from realising that alison’s stepladder was about to give way.

with the increased presence of non elderly men in the house (the previous owner wasn’t exactly the life of the party) the captain is getting gayer and gayer, but he’s also becoming more and more defensive, while his brisk demeanour and need for control regresses to much more of a season 1 state (a subconscious attempt to regain control as things get close to spilling over). it’s not the first time his repression has almost slipped, he spent much of his life surrounded by soldiers after all, but with no war and no corporeal body he’s got almost nothing to distract himself from it. needless to say, between the safety hazards and the almost agressive defensiveness which derails any interaction, something needs to be done about the captain.

throughout the week, alison tries to find the opportune time to talk to the captain about what’s going on with him for everyone’s sake, but cap keeps masterfully evading any ‘deep’ talk with willful misunderstanding or just straight up dismissal (which at times gets a bit rude), and alison really doesn’t have the time- her and mike are caught up with managing the first official room redecoration and butting heads with a passive agressive delivery driver. insert general shenangigans, but at some point the captain’s whole “accidentally sabotage something by being distracted and then attack anyone who dares even look at him the wrong way afterwards” act causes alison to exasperatedly blurt out “we all know you’re gay! we get it! you like men! you can drop the act!”. there’s no malice or anything but, as we know, when alison gets run ragged things don’t tend to come out quite right.

everything falls silent (and mike is vaguely confused), and the captain just looks like a deer in headlights. as alison catches her breath, pat pipes up with a “it’s alright, cap, we don’t mind- now we can focus on the task at hand”. the captain sort of regains his composure and once again attempts to brush them all off with a scoff and a “i haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. if any of us is distracted, i-it’s... kitty!” but it’s easy to tell he looks rattled. most of his words don’t come out right, and after trying to blame kitty for their failures (she just had the unfortunate luck of being in his line of sight), he ends up doing an awkward little walk away which quickly turns into a full on sprint. mike, having finished processing alison yelling about gay shit to the air and kind of pieced together what must have happened awkwardly chimes in with “it’s okay to be gay!”- alison just pats him on the back (”yeah no he’s gone, mike.” “gone?” “sprinted away.” “huh”)

the episode continues with the captain flat out avoiding alison and the other ghosts to an almost funny extent as the other plots continue. it takes a bit for alison to realise why the captain reacted so badly (in fact, it’s actually mike who remembers that he’s 1940s ghost- “he’s probably just scared and taking it out on everyone else”). while thomas and julian vote for leaving the captain be so they can have some peace and quiet, fanny/pat/alison/robin decide someone needs to talk to him (fanny surprised everyone but after all, she got murdered because her husband had to live in secrecy- if talking to the captain will avert any further crises, she’s happy to make sure someone else does it for her). kitty’s still upset about being singled out, but she knows better than anyone that sometimes all you need is a friend- cue realisation no. 2.

with the captain avoiding everyone, sending in a regular emissary isn’t going to work. they need to find the least threatening person possible, with no agenda or history other than being there to help (a friend, if you will)- cue everyone looking at mike.

a quick offscreen briefing later, we see mike wandering out to the field where the captain has exiled himself- remember that up until this point, the captain was still in conscious denial about his sexuality, so being forced to confront it head on (and finding out that apparently everyone ‘knew’, which for cap would feel like an intimate invasion of privacy/forced vulnerability) would rattle him to the point of self-exile- he might not be able to run from his sexuality, but he can run from people. the thing is, mike can’t see or hear the ghosts, which means the captain can’t be frightened off by any expectations (mike actually talks to/at cap while facing completely the wrong direction, but consdiering the above point, this works rather well).

the captain was alternating between pacing, fiddling with his swagger stick, and sitting, but he unconsciously stands to attention as mike wanders over. he’s used to mike not being able to see them, so mike asking to sit down takes him by surprise, disrupting his instinct to flee again.

mike begins a little awkwardly (”mind if i sit?” *silence* “...i’m just gonna assume that’s a no. or is it a yes? yeah anyways i’m just gonna sit. so... heard you’ve been going through a rough patch”), and the captain almost scoffs and wanders off, but something about the clumsy earnestness in mike’s voice, the captain’s vulnerable state, and the fact that it’s been so long since cap has had anyone actually check in on him, that he stays put. he keeps standing and staring away from button house, and mike keeps speaking to the empty air to his left, and alison and the ghosts stay hidden behind their bush a few metres away, but at least the captain is listening. for the first time in weeks, he’s not on the offensive.

“i can’t actually see or hear you, so i’m just gonna talk and assume you’re listening. alison mentioned you have a habit of running away but, um, maybe don’t do that please?”

“my mate daniel's gay. uh, homosexual, you’d probably say- did you have gay when you were alive? did it just mean happy? anyway, he didn’t come out- that means tell people- until he left high school. we all kind of guessed it, the other kids at school gave him a real tough time for it, but he just squashed it down. couldn’t imagine that all the things people were shouting at him were true, so he ignored it. he’s doing good now though. got married to his husband last year, currently runs a bookshop. so that’s nice.”

it goes quiet for a bit. the captain hasn’t moved, and we’re still only seeing shots of him from the back, but there’s a little less tension in his stance than there was before. mike clears his throat before continuing.

“i’m guessing you’re probably pretty scared right now. i would be- i mean not that you should be, you shouldn’t, but coming from your... situation, i’m guessing it’d be hard. no one’s saying you have to be anything you’re not ready to be, but lots of things that are scary are actually not bad. airplanes, skydiving, clowns- well, not the clown from that movie, but he gives clowns a bad rep- i’m sure there are plenty of lovely clowns out in the world. still give me the creeps though.” the captain makes a captain-y noise of assent about the clown comment- he never liked them either.

mike glances over to the bush where alison and the ghosts were attempting to listen in (they could only catch every few words- mary got particularly concerned about why mike had referenced clowns), and the captain still hasn’t run away, so alison motions for mike to keep going. he starts telling the captain a story from his uni days. it’s got nothing to do with the captain, or being gay, or self-acceptance, or anything like that- it’s just a standard tale of comedic but inventive problem solving. the captain sits himself down next to mike (to his right, avoiding mike’s gaze, and still staring away from button house), muttering that his legs are getting a bit tired. he sits there for a while, and mike just talks. sometimes he circles back to the gay thing, sometimes he just asks the captain questions, before remembering that he can’t actually hear any answer, but then he keeps asking anyway, thinking that cap might need to talk. he doesn’t at first, but slowly he offers up a word or two. and then a sentence, and then maybe more- mike will accidentally cut the captain off, or leave the silence to long, but the captain doesn’t mind (it’s a nice reminder that nothing he says will actually go on to have consequence). at one point, mike gets out his phone to show the captain photos of his mate daniel and daniel's husband, not just their wedding day but casual photos- couples drinks with him and alison, dinners at each other's places, the bookshop.

alison and the other ghosts have long gone, and the sun is just about to sink below the horizon by the time the captain stands himself back up with the traditional knee crack and grunt. he looks at mike and nods, giving him a simple thank you before turning to walk (not run) back to button house, head held slightly higher and looking more relaxed than he’s been all episode. the captain has still got a lot to figure out, but at least it’s a start.

[i love the dramatic ending but the implication is that alison has to go and fetch mike bc he has no ideas cap has left and is prepared to keep going lol- also by no means is cap suddenly going to ditch his characterisation and become a yas kween gay right away, i didn’t go into the aftermath bc this is alreayd fucking LONG but let me know if you want follow up????}

EDIT: i've rbed this with the follow up/part 2 attached!

EDIT 2, much later: switched out mike's reference to his 'younger brother' to a school friend, since the christmas special confirmed mike only has sisters and we're all about accuracy here

#bbc ghosts #ghosts bbc #the captain #ben willbond #bbc ghosts captain #bbc ghosts headcanon #ghosts headcanon #lgbt #lgbtq #gay #mlm

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yunsoh · 4 years

Note

how yuki falls for kakeru i absolutely get. what i dont always get is why kakeru would fall for yuki? how would that happen for him? also, like would kakeru even know it was like love love? i guess he would have an easier time than yuki coming to terms with a non straight sexuality though?

oh yeah, i agree that they’re kind of flipped when it comes to what takes them the longest to realize. while yuki’s going through the motions of accepting he’s gay, kakeru i think takes a longer time to even recognize his feelings in the first place.

and i do think a big factor of that is just the fact that he can brush off his feelings pretty easily in favor of saying “i have a girlfriend” lmfao. it is so stupid easy to squash your attraction to other people (and esp people of the same gender) under the umbrella of “i’m in a long-term committed relationship,” especially when you’re young and in the headspace of “we’re going to be together forever :)”. like can we talk about how kakeru completely commits himself to a girl he started dating in middle school? not only his first girlfriend ever, but really the first person to show they like him ever? boy’s got some things to unpack and work through. anyways.

so i do think it’s worth looking at how kakeru acts around komaki and yuki, because i think it’s pretty clear that yuki is really the only other person that kakeru feels comfortable enough around to actually show this more serious and troubled side to him/his life -- and he does it more or less unprompted. komaki starts to learn more about him by virtue of being his girlfriend, but by the time kakeru starts to open up to yuki about some more private matters of his life, they’ve only just crossed into the space where they actually both see each other as friends. he trusts yuki, even when they haven’t known each other for very long. he absolutely finds a comfort with him.

but even aside from that, kakeru is. very textually flirty with yuki lmfao. he jokes about how yuki is “feminine” and “pretty” and “princess-like,” but the undertones behind some of those interactions come off. a bit different LMAO. and i think it’s so worth comparing it to how kyo more or less says the same things about yuki, but it’s so disparaging and intentionally malicious. kakeru is just teasing when he says these things, but like...... and this goes for kyo too, but....... to fixate on how pretty a boy looks..... and try to flip the fact that you notice this into being mean about it..... repression gymnastics is all i’m gonna say. (especially when it’s been shown more than once that the other boys at school don’t have a lot of shame in seeing yuki as pretty. i mean they pull the “i’d totally date you if you were a girl” thing but that’s. takaya. anyways!)

aside from this, kakeru is pretty straightforward about admitting he finds men attractive (he says this specifically about yuki, kyo, haru, and ayame); he brings this up to yuki by asking if “beauty runs in the sohma blood,” and when yuki’s just like “idk” kakeru straight up calls him dense. he calls him dense a few other times which are... specifically about how yuki doesn’t see that other people have romantic inclinations towards him (motoko, machi).... hm hm.

but onto him like, actually realizing his own feelings: i basically just headcanon that it’s not until after he and komaki break up (which isn’t because of yuki, it’s just because they grow up and change. as young adults do.) that he starts to notice what exactly his feelings towards yuki are. it’s kind of a slow coming-to-terms thing with a lot of internal back and forth of “is this platonic or is it romantic” which honestly? i feel like he didn’t really have the room to figure out during his teen years. (bit of an aside, but long-term romantic relationships during your developmental years actually like.... legitimately can fuck you up when it comes to understanding and exploring what you personally want/need out of relationships..... it’s along the lines of feeling mature and taking pride in that, but then also stunting yourself because you’re not actually mature enough to handle it. but kakeru’s issues with that is something i can talk about at another time tbh.)

so i feel like it’s in the process of trying to figure out where he actually draws that line that he finally realizes that his feelings towards yuki are more complicated that he realized. and i feel like part of that is questioning what kind of love he has for yuki, and how that compares to what he felt for komaki -- and then i think having a little bit of a crisis when he. can’t fully or neatly differentiate his feelings between them lmfao. not in a “gay panic” crisis but in a “oh this is stupid complicated” crisis. he’s not one to really mince his emotions, but this is something he. knows he has to be kind of delicate with, because he gives a shit about yuki’s feelings. but it’s really hard for him to just not say anything straight out. so more repressed “i’m flirting with you but we’re just ✨best bros✨ haha don’t look too far into it (but do because i’m trying to fucking tell you something)” ensues.

meanwhile yuki’s been harboring a crush on him for like at least a year or two by this point but he’s also been playing the repression gymnastics game in his brain so. messy! they’re messy. they end up having what they think are unrequited feelings for each other for a while before it literally just gets to be too much for the both of them and they have their big dramatic time of having an awkward and upsetting falling out before getting their shit together again and being honest with one another. which is just an awkward and shitty time, until it isn’t.

#i keep wanting to apologize for these answers becoming so long but. can't help it. have things 2 say.#fruits basket #yukeru #yuki sohma #kakeru manabe #fruits basket spoilers #answered #hc #Anonymous

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weirdochick56 · 4 years

Text

Mr. Evans II- Chris Evans AU Chapter Eleven

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language. SMUT. DIRTY DIRTINESS.

Disclaimers: I don’t condone relationships of this kind, this is for entertainment purposes only. Please be gentle on my word-porn.

Word Count: 5, 347 words

A/N: This shit got dirty REAL quick. As I was writing it, I was so fucking confused by what my fingers were typing lmfaoooo. Also this story is nearly coming to an end and IDK what the hell im gonna do after. PLEASE stay safe and healthy y’all!

Read Chapter Ten here!!

***

(gif isn’t mine!)

You take a long gulp of the bottle.

“It’s like I’m stuck, you know?” You say looking off into the water. “Like I don’t know how to exist or move forward or hell, even back.”

Noah, the guy you’d met at the pool, nods in understanding, taking a sip from the bottle. “Yeah. I get that, but your situation is hella complicated. I get why.”

“I guess I just have never felt one hundred percent in it, you know? Like I could never fully let myself be happy because at any moment that shit could burn down. I’ve always felt like someone was out to get us, like all the fucking odds were stacked against us,” you mumble, shivering when a breeze swishes past the dark night.

It’s been a while since you had met Noah and he was a pretty cool dude. You just clicked- it was just like that with some people you know? You just get along from the get-go. You got to talking, slowly downing the bottle in the process of course and the more time ticked by, the more your tongues loosened.

You didn’t like to play into stereotypes or anything, but you were almost entirely sure Noah wasn’t one-hundred percent straight. But maybe that was just you.

You were at a healthy buzz right now but that wasn’t gonna last long at the rate you were chugging from the bottle.

“You wanna be with him?”

You sigh, hating that there wasn’t even a little doubt in your mind or heart at the question. “I do. But I don’t know how to go about it, you know? It’s all just so jumbled for me.”

Noah releases a little sigh, laying down on the cold gravel. “I know right? It’s like you love someone so much but you also know that being with them could be dangerous, no only to you but to the life you’ve built around yourselves individually. So it’s hard between choosing everyone else or your own selfish ass.”

You glance at him, raising your brows. “From personal experience?”

He laughs but it’s a bit strained- dry. “Yeah. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly uh- straight.”

“What?! I had no idea!” You mock gasp.

“Shut up.” He laughs, slapping your arm playfully. “Yeah well, he’s actually the most beautiful human being I’ve ever met. But we’re keeping it on the dL. Neither of our parents is exactly supportive. Mine are still a bit touchy even though they’re starting to tolerate the fact that their son is gay and his- well they have no idea. If they did that situation would go awry real quick.”

You sigh, laying your head drunkenly on his shoulder. “Aw, I’m so sorry Nini.”

He laughs, casually wrapping an arm around you. “Oh? Is that my new nickname?”

You nod. “Yep.”

“You know something, Nini?” You suddenly mumble in a slur.

“What?”

“You’re not selfish for loving him- whoever he is. You’re brave.”

“Yeah? And why do you say that?” He hums.

You take the bottle from his grasp, taking a long drink. When you’re done, you sluggishly wipe your lips.

“Because I’m a fucking coward,” you mumble shakily. “I’m so fucking scared of feeling. I just shut down like a robot,” you confess, quietly chuckling. “I numb myself so that I don’t have to face the reality of it all. You face that shit head-on. You’re staying and fighting for your love. That’s super admirable.”

Noah rubs your arm comfortingly. “Thanks.”

You nod, swishing your feet in the water. “It’s true. I wish I could just be with him.”

“Then be with him,” Noah says, simply.

Just like that. As if it were that straightforward.

“It’s not that easy. There’s so many things to consider.“

“Let me ask you a question,” he quickly quips. “Do you love him? Like really truly love him?”

You swallow harshly, gripping the bottle tightly in your hands. “With every fiber in my body.”

Noah nods firmly. “Then that’s it. And listen, I’m going to be honest because it sounds like everyone in your life has been lying to you and telling you basically all you need is love to make it work. It’s not. Relationships are hard fucking work. Especially if it’s one people will have a variety of feelings on. It takes effort, time, sacrifice and you know where all that comes from?”

“Where?” You pout drunkenly.

“From you. You have to be sure you want it you have to be willing to stay and fight. But you also need love. Without love, there’s nothing. If you’re sure you want to be with him, if you think your love is worth it, then I say go for it. It doesn’t have to be this huge announcement either. It’s your relationship- it’s there for no one else but you two. If you feel comfortable later on, then do sure you can tell people.”

You ponder on his words drinking more tequila, before finally speaking in a defeated tone. “I’m scared.”

He shrugs. “Life is really just one big risk you either choose to take or not. Plus, it’s like I told you; relationships are hard work. You have to keep working at it. Even when it gets hard.” He licks his lips. “He gave an ultimatum and from what you told me, you’re not going to be here for much longer. So not to pressure you or anything, but if there was ever a time to act this feels like it’s it.”

Maybe he’s right.

Needless to say, by the time Noah walks you home, you’re both absolutely hammered. You make sure to call him a taxi because it was late at night and you also make him promise to text you once he got there.

After he’s gone words keep ringing around in your head over and over and over again. And so do Margo’s. In fact, you felt like you were flying on a cloud of thoughts all whirling and detaching and stringing together back again.

You start replaying everything in your head- your whole relationship. From the start to now. Like a movie.

And your heart breaks even more because you realize right there and then that at some point, the movie suddenly stops.

The movie stops.

It hits you that you’ll have no idea how it ends. What’ll happen with you two. Where you’ll end up.

For some odd fucking reason, it makes you feel sick to your stomach to think about it that way, and your skin crawls. If you let him go, you’ll never him know how the movie ends... the thought tortures you slowly to sleep as it goes round and round in your noggin, pounding you with unbearable guilt and anxious thoughts.

When you do fall asleep, though, you have a strange dream that night. Or more like you have a nightmare.

You’re standing in your room and it’s just like it was when you went to sleep that night, except that on the other side, the usual long hallway isn’t there anymore. There’s only darkness.

Your anxiety kicks up because you know what the darkness is without even touching it.

It’s the not-knowing. The pitch-black emptiness which you’re expected to walk into blind. Fucking alone.

You start hyperventilating when the pressure to walk into it becomes too much, thrashing harshly against the invisible force pushing you into it. Screaming, salty tears, kicking...

It’s all too much. Your breathing is labored and your skin burns with hot tears.

And then suddenly and like a warm blanket- two muscular arms wrap around you from behind, tugging you into a hard chest.

Chris, your mind instantly whispers.

He easily tugs you back towards the room, hugging you to his front tightly.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

And in that moment of terror, with his familiar scent and soothing voice and tight embrace, he’s safety. He’s warmth and familiarity.

...he’s home. Your home.

You just lay there with him, holding each other.

The next image flashes by instantly and suddenly the darkness is back. But this time you don’t panic...because Chris is right there with you, holding your hand. And for some reason, you know -you’re one-thousand present sure- he won’t let go.

He rubs his thumb softly over your thumb, looking at you with those alluring blue eyes of his, that soft yet capturing gaze that made you feel all fuzzy.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’m here. I’ll always be here.” He repeats his earlier sentence.

You wipe happy tears. “I’ve got you too.”

He smiles adoringly down at you, smile lines crinkling endearingly at the corners. “I know.”

And without a second’s thought you plunge straight into the darkness.

You gasp loudly, sitting straight up in bed. Your heart races, thumping harshly against your rib cage as beads of sweat trod carefully down your temple and side of your face.

Click.

Something in you suddenly clicks and it all becomes clear.

Was that all that was needed for realization to hit you? A single moment? A single split second in which the fog clears? A split-second where your vision suddenly elevates and the whole landscape is all there? The whole picture is laid out before you?

It’s early in the morning and you wince when the bright light of an early day hits you in the face, flopping over in bed.

You reach for your phone on the nightstand, quickly unlocking it before checking your contacts. You have a new text message. You click on it.

Hey, Hermosa. I got home okay. Thanks for the taxi, lol.

You smile gently, typing back.

Yeah np, Nini. Thanks for the advice. Needed it.

Your phone buzzes.

Ngl, kinda shocked we still remember that. Lmfao. Ur welcome tho.

You groan softly into your pillow when your head starts aggressively throbbing.

Sobriety sucks butt.

“Honey, are you okay?”

Your dad and Kennedy watch you as you haphazardly stuff your face with bacon and eggs then gulf it all down like a dog- brows raised and jaws slack.

Downing your warm coffee in one go, you get up, pushing the chair back with a loud screech and almost trip running over to the sink to put your dishes inside.

“Yes. I’m good. There’s just something urgent I have to go take care of,” you rush out, leaning down over them and giving each a chaste kiss on the cheek.

“I love you guys!” You yell, already half outside and still pulling on one of your sneakers as you clumsily hopped around.

You slam the door shut, running off as soon as you finish putting on the shoe.

Your head pounds inside your skull even having downed three aspirins and having a warm shower and your breakfast swishes inside your stomach with your harsh sprinting but you don’t stop.

Not until you reach his house.

You don’t think. Just feel. Feel how right this was. You’re done being scared of loving who you love. You had what you had and it was what it was, but what you had was him.

Chris.

All this time, he said you were his light. You were his angel.

But really he was your light. He was your angel.

You needed him just as much as he needed you- if not more.

Fuck everyone else.

This was yours. He was yours and you were his and you were done fighting it. Officially.

You had the realization that before, you’d always been just the tiniest bit reluctant. You subconscious put up your own walls to protect your heart, never fully allowing yourself to work on your relationship, never fully giving your energy to it.

But not anymore. No more walls. Just you. Just you, your love and a foundation for a fresh start.

You were exhausted- not of life or him or of the curveballs it keeps throwing your way. You’re tired of fighting yourself.

That’s the real fight you’ve been having this whole time. With yourself. You’re your own damn enemy. And isn’t that fucking tiring?

But you’re done.

Knocking loudly on the door, your chest inflated with so many emotions and with adrenaline pumping through your veins, you tug at your short shorts, hating that this was the first thing you saw and threw on.

Unfortunately, the next thing you saw was a short ass crop top so you were basically running around in your underwear.

You freeze out the nerves as soon as they start to set in when footsteps pad your way. None of that.

When Chris opens the door, you nearly fall over.

He gives you a once-over, his hair messy, and dark bags under his eyes. “Sweetheart what-“

You stare at him for a few seconds as does he, eyes wide and lips parted.

“Chris,” you breathe.

But you catch yourself and before you know it, you’re spilling all your damn beans right on his front porch.

You needed to. You had to get this off your chest or you would go absolutely insane.

“Chris before you say anything, I just want to apologize. I’ve been a huge fucking hypocrite. But I realize my mistakes and I-“ you laugh incredulously, looking at him. “I just want to be with you,” you mumble meekly, your voice low.

Not because you didn’t mean it, but because you were terrified of his reaction.

His eyes soften and he opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“No, stop. I just need to finish what I have to say, okay? You were right. You scare me. What we have scares me. But I’m not willing to let you go just because I’m scared. I-” you swallow tears back down. “Being scared isn’t an excuse to let you go. God, I’ve never felt emptier in my life than these past few weeks. Not even when I was gone for two years. At least then I knew I was faraway from you. That I was somewhat safe from all these...feelings.” You gulp. “But being here-“ you shake your head. “Knowing that you’re just a few blocks away- I just want you to hold me, to make love to me, to love me in the way only you know how to.” You chuckle breathlessly. “God, I am so in love with you. Y-you complete me. You make me better- you’re the best fucking person I know. And I know I’ve been an asshole to you, or well let’s be honest we both have, but I guess mostly me- um anyway. I just- I’m here to stay.” You sigh softly, letting the words roll of your tongue like a vow.

“I’m here to stay,” you repeat softly but firmer this time, swallowing thickly at the sweet after taste.

You’re panting by the time you’re done, both thanks to the running and the little speech you just gave, but your gaze never leaves his. Not for the whole five minutes, he just stands there, looking at you with glimmering eyes.

“Chris?” You whisper.

“Say that again,” he breathes.

“Say what?” You frown.

“Tell me you love me again,” he mumbles, a single tear sliding down his cheek.

You smile a little, looking him in the eye. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” you repeat breathlessly. “I’m here to stay- if you’ll let me that is,” you add on in a clumsy, sheepish way.

He smirks, instantly yanking you into a hug. His arm wraps around your waist and head and your arms slither their way around his broad back. You melt into him, half with delight and half with relief.

The embrace says all the things you weren’t strong enough to say, it was passionate, warm, loving, fierce. You slid into eachother like to puzzle pieces. Like you were meant to be there- in eachother’s arms.

Chris holds you tighter to him, using your trembling body, which you hadn’t even noticed was shaking, as an excuse you stuff his nose into your hair and press your chest to his.

“I missed you,” he breathed into you- easy as air. A breath he’d been holding for far too long and needed to release.

A breath that, once uttered, made you instantly freeze.

You slowly parted away from him so you could properly peer into his eyes and because you have no idea how much being back with him was going to be for you emotionally.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, tears sprouting from your eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just scared. I’m always scared.”

He shakes his head at you, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. “I get it, sweetheart. I was scared too. But we’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

He holds his arms out again, but catches himself before wrapping them around you and pulling you to him entirely, the question clear in his eyes; was this okay?

This embrace wasn’t like the one a few moments ago, this one was cautious because you were walking new ground. A ground that was undiscovered but all the same exciting.

A ground that was the foundation for a new path to happiness. A new beginning.

You simply nod in response, too tired to try to fight your need for his warmth off.

He wastes no time pulling you to his chest- nice and tight and you instantly hug him back, loving the feeling of safety and warmth you felt there.

You realize that no matter where you go or who you’re with, nothing will ever feel like being in his arms. Nothing will ever feel like home. Not like him.

His hold tightens on you- like he’s afraid of letting you go and you tighten your own hold to signify your own heightened emotions.

The buzzing in your skin, the racing of your heart, the flush of your face, the fluttering of your tummy- all the emotions that made you feel like there was endless hope and warmth and good in the world- you missed it all.

You listen to his slightly accelerated heartbeat and nestle your head against his chest. “So we fight?”

He heaves a heavy exhale. “We fight.”

You lick your dry lips, taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

He pushes you back slightly, brows raised. “Really?”

You can’t help but smirk a little bit. “I think I still have a little bit more fight left in me.”

You shift in his arms, resting your head on his chest an adjusting the leg you’d hastily thrown over his waist.

After your talk, you’d agreed that a little alone time was in order. So you threw yourselves onto his bed and did what anyone in your position -with unspent sexual frustration and endless simmering desire between your souls- would do and cuddled.

“Sweetheart,” he begins, twirling another strand of your hair in between his fingers.

“Hmm?” you mumble drowsily, drawing a new pattern on his chest with your fingertips.

“Do you love me?”

You pause, brows furrowing. Leaning up on your elbow, you peer down at him. “What?”

He smiles a little. “You heard me.”

“Why do you ask?” You blush bright red.

He chuckles, brushing a hand against your cheek. “Well, I’m not like you, angel. I actually need to hear the words. Again,” he adds cheekily.

You stare at him blankly for a few seconds, contemplating his face. He was perfect. Even the small dips or indents on his skin. Every sharp and soft line, every curve and dip and area of soft flesh.

Beneath you, his muscles strained against his soft pajamas and his warmth surpassed layers of skin and clothing in order to deep into your bones, warming you entirely.

But that wasn’t what made him beautiful. No.

It was the fact that he was such a dork when it came to Charlotte Brontë and Bram Stroker even when he tried to hide it. It was the fact that for years he put aside his own pain to focus on the futures of his students. The pain of losing his wife.

It was that he looked at you like you were his beginning and his end and everything in between. It was the fact that he was unwilling to relent to everyone and everything telling him he couldn’t have you and that he was willing to forgive you.

It was that he was still here. Still fighting even when everything could be lost.

He wasn’t just perfect. He was authentic. And he was beautiful just the way he was.

You finally nod, whispering lightly. “I do. I love you more than anything in the world.”

You’ve never meant anything more in your life. And it didn’t matter what would happen next because you’d be together when it happen and you’d take it on together. You’d always have eachother.

He beams adoringly, running his hands through his hair.

You instantly raise a brow. “What?”

He frowns at you. “What?”

You chuckle, a tiny smirk tugging at your lips. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

“Wrong? Nothing is wrong. Why does something have to be wrong?”

You instantly smile, patting his cheek as you hook your leg over him tighter in order to get more comfortable. “You just ran a hand through your hair; something’s definitely wrong,” you say as if it’s obvious before softening. “C’mon talk to me.”

He looks into your questioning eyes for exactly three seconds before breaking. “Dammit, why do your eyes have to be so big and…shiny? I can never lie to them,” he mumbles under his breath.

You laugh pressing a little kiss to his stubbled cheek. “It’s my secret superpower. Now; spill.”

He sighs, looking down at his hands. “Nothing I guess I’m kind of second-guessing now. N-not of us o-or anything!” He rushes to explain immediately after. “Just-” he sighs again, looking back down. “I dunno. I feel like I’ve been pressuring you. What if this isn’t what you really want?” He gazes into your eyes, concern swimming in his deep pools. “Is it?”

Unable to hold back a snicker you grin lightly at him. “I just gave you an entire speech about how much I want to be with you and you’re questioning it? Bit late, don’t you think?” You joke lightly.

He deadpans. “Y/n.”

You sigh. “Yes, it is what I want. No backing out this time.” You hold out your pinky with a tiny giggle. “Pinky promise?”

He raises a brow at the small finger, scoffing at the notion. “Angel, I’m a masculine manly-man do you really think that I’m gonna pinky promise you? No.”

You wiggle your pinky with a tiny pout. “C’mon!”

He sternly peers down at you (again for exactly three seconds) before breaking down once more, half-heartedly linking your pinky with his and grumbling for a second time about how your eyes were “unfairly adorable”.

You laugh tightening your finger on his, as you gaze into each other’s eyes tenderly. “I pinky promise to always be with you. No matter what.”

He smiles softly, repeating your words back to you with the tenderest look in his eye. “I pinky promise to always be with you. No matter what.”

When you take your pinkie back, he rolls his eyes, chuckling. “I can’t believe you made me do that. I hate you.”

Lightly shoving his shoulder, you place a soft peck on his cheek. “You know you love me. Plus, c’mon, I came looking for you here, I can’t leave without at least a pinky promise.”

He smirks, wiggling his brows suggestively. “You do realize this means I won, right?”

“Won?”

He nods enthusiastically. “Yeah. This time, you came for me. So I won.”

You snort. “Asshole.”

He chuckles as you suddenly grow serious.

“You know, I hate that you know me better than I know myself. I can never hide from you,” you whisper as he grips your face with his hand.

“You don’t have to,” he says sincerely, looking directly at you. His dark gaze pierced your soul and your breath hitches, forming a huge lump on your throat. “Not from me. Not ever.”

You shiver under his touch, leaning into him. You bite your lip as you gaze at him from under your lashes. “What if what I’m trying to hide is ugly?” You husk.

He simply smiles, like what you’re saying is utterly impossible. “Then you don’t try to hide it. I want to see it all. Because you know what? In the end, I know it’s all going to be beautiful.”

You can’t keep the damn goofy smile from tugging at your lips as you softly kiss his nose. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you breathe. “I love you so fucking much.”

He pecks your cheek lightly in response, resting his forehead on yours.

“Who are we without scars, without stories to tell? Your flaws make you who you are, angel. And I’ve fallen in love with you. All of you.”

You smile softly at him, your heart thumping loudly inside your chest. “You make me all crazy, you know that?” you mumble.

He laughs, closing the distance between you two and brushing his lashes against yours. “I’m sorry.”

You giggle against his lips, softly moving yours against them as you peer into his darkened eyes and wide blown pupils. “No, you’re not.”

He rubs his thumb across your cheekbone tenderly, tracing your skin like he was afraid you’d break if he pressed too hard or rubbed too much.

“You’re right- I’m not,” he breathes hotly against your skin, playing with your lower lip.

You press your nose to his, pressure building in your chest as you slowly begin straddling him. “Do you want me?”

His other hands grips your other cheek, gaze pinning yours down with ease. “All the damn time,” he responds without hesitation, voice growing deeper and more primitive.

You smirk down at him, forgetting entirely about everything and everyone else.

“Really?”

He looks at you incredulously. “Are you serious? How do you not know what you do to me, sweetheart?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t. What do I do to you, Chris?”

Your pussy begins pulsating rhythmically, panties damp at the implication.

He inhales sharply, clamping down on that plump lip. “Shit sweetheart. You want details?”

He seemed startled but turned on all the same.

You bite your lip, feeling your nipples harden under the soft fabric of the shirt and nearly let a moan slip when it rubs against the sensitive nubs as you move.

“Yes. I want you to tell me exactly how much you want me. I want you to tell me how you’ve imagined me before. What you’d do to me if you’re given the chance,” you rasp all in one breath.

As you speak, you grind your down hips on his, enjoying the much-needed friction it created in your sensitive spot.

He clenches his jaw, eyes ablaze with that fire you missed so much.

“Careful sweetheart,” he grits out through clenched teeth, hands dropping to your ass and hips. “If you get too close I might burn you.”

You look him in the eye, knowing damn well your own unquenchable fire was swaying sensually back and forth in your eyes. You wanted him—bad. In fact, you fucking needed him. You needed him like you needed air to breathe. Fuck, you ached for the feeling of his cock inside you, claiming you as his. Because damn you were his.

“Then burn me,” you say with full intent.

His eyes snap shut, fingers digging into your flesh.

“Jesus Christ, Y/n. If we don’t stop right now I can’t promise I won’t fuck you ‘til you’re screaming.”

Your pussy instantly grows wet at his words, pulsating far more aggressively than before as you move your hips faster.

“Fuck Chris. Have you dreamed about me?” You pant.

He looks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, dick stirring in his pants. “Almost every night,” he admits without shame or hell- even embarrassment.

Than only makes you more flushed.

You lick your dry lips, his eyes following the movement. “Yeah? And what am I wearing?”

He closes his eyes, hands traveling down to your thighs before rising gradually up to your waist, pushing fabric out of the way. You tremble beneath his fingertips and he uses the chance to guide your movements against him, his long fingers setting a rhythm for you to move to.

He hisses with pleasure. “Y-you’re wearing my t-shirt. Only with panties underneath.”

You inhale deeply, chest rising but not falling just yet at the vivid image. “Mhm,” you hum softly. “And where are we?”

“My bedroom. You’re sprawled out on my bed, sleeping.”

You bite your lip. “Are you hard yet?”

“Hell yes,” he breathes, digging his nails into your ass. “I can see your ass from here. All of that for me,” he moans softly against your chest as he adjusts you and his grip on you so your tits are closer to his face.

You arch back at the sensation of having his hard cock rubbing against you from beneath his pants.

“You’re moving around in your sleep and I’m getting harder because you look so damn innocent but sexy all at once. Like you’re just asking me to ruin you.”

You moan against him, accidentally brushing your nipple against his lips in the frenzy of your dry humping.

You freeze for a second, letting the sensation sink into your cells, warming them with electrifying bliss before moaning louder when Chris lightly opens his mouth to take one of them in over the thin material of the shirt.

Your mouth falls open at the sensation and your finger rake through his hair, tugging on the strands harshly as he gently suckles on the sensitive bud, rolling his tongue around it with expert sensuality.

His eyes meet yours as he does this and neither of your looks away as he flicks his tongue back and forth, causing your whole body to nearly overload with bliss.

“Fuck Chris,” you mewl, digging out nails into his scalp.

He stops sucking, using his finger to play with them instead. Your mouth falls open in a choked-up scream as he continues narrating his dirty dream for you.

“Even from there I can see how soft your skin is. How perfect your tits are and how good they’d fit in my hands. It’s torture until I walk over to you and grab one of your ankles gently in my hands…”

“Yes?” Your breath hitches as he hits a sensitive spot.

“And the other one too. Then I slowly part them. I don’t want to wake you yet. Not like that.”

You bite your lip, holding back a moan.

“When I’ve completely opened your legs, I slowly crawl up your body, kissing your legs as I go. When I reach your inner thighs, I slowly lift my shirt up….” he trails off, his thumb softly grazing your sensitive nub.

Your head flies back at the sudden jolt of pleasure it sends up your spine. “Shit Chris,” you groan.

“I start leaving open-mouthed kisses all over your soft skin. You’re shifting in your sleep, growing wetter, but you still haven’t woken up. Finally, I kiss your pussy.”

At the words coming out of his sinfully soft mouth, you feel your stomach clench, mouth capturing a silent scream and swallowing it back down.

He keeps you moving against him, his fingers gripping your thigh and his thumb working soft circles into your now soaked panties.

You gyrate into his hand rhythmically, fully concentrated in how good he felt.

“Uh-huh,” you finally grit out.

He continues speaking, voice strained and tone nearly drowned out entirely by animalistic frenzy. “You slowly peel your eyes open as I’ve begun flicking my tongue over your clit back and forth.” He copies the motion he describes with his thumb, smirking viciously when you nearly fall over him.

“I’ve been doing it over your sheer lace underwear this whole time, but when you are finally awake, your smell and your taste become too much for me to handle. You intoxicate all my senses sweetheart. I just want you on my tongue. I want you to ride my face until you cum in my mouth.”

And that’s all he needs to add to his jerky thumb movements for you to cum. Hard.

As if he can sense that you’ve reached a climax, he watches you with hunger, drinking in the sight of you coming all for him. “That’s right, sweetheart. Cum for me. All for me. Fuck, Y/n.”

You convulse, cursing like a damn sailor into his mouth. “Fuuuuck Chris!”

When you’re done, you slouch against him.

He hugs you to him and the rumble of his laughter travels through you, causing your sensitive insides to tremble. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You lift your head carefully. “Yes.”

He smiles. “Good. Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to make love to you.”

“Oh.”

Read Chapter Twelve here!!

***

The flashbacks to Mr. Evans I are real. Omfg.

I’m literally in love with him.

A special thanks to:

@star-spangled-steve

@tomoyaevaans

@pepsicola-is-my-brand-man

@whereeverythingisbetter

@fallenoutofrose

@plutonium-m

@beepbeepromanoff

@faithmichaluk

@sincerelytlh

@tomshelbystits

@kind-sober-fullydressed

@emmarogers222

@sashimi-cat

@zofty15

@gemgemswift

@fafulous

@chljmntgy

@thatssograce

@leclerc-stan

@colddsalsa

@evansislife

@chris-butt

@captainchrisstan

@marvels-gurl

@davestridersrightnipple

@agirlcanstilldream

@notbexmader

@ib-ebe

@byrogers

@theangrylizard

@oh-hey-janina

@mannatgalhotra

And My forevers!

@jessikared97

@ladyofletters67

@lilypalmer1987

@sammykb1994

@tomshelbystits

#Chris Evans #chris evans au #teacher au #teacher!chris evans x student!reader

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cdt12345 · 4 years

Text

Ian and Mickey are Husbands!

I took a while to even talk about this episode because I was so overwhelmed. I needed time to process everything!

To start off, I have no complaints! The only thing is, it would’ve been great if Mandy, Iggy and Fiona were there. But that’s something we already knew wasn’t gonna happen, so I chose not to let that make me mad. I already had time to be angry about it before this episode.

Please excuse the ramblings of a mad women but I’m sure you understand, as I know you’re freaking out just as much as I am! Looking at you @luckyshazmrsmonaghansblog! I want this episode playing on a loop wherever I go forever! Even at my grave! For once I didn’t need to fast forward to get to their scenes! I usually try not to during the first watch, but I won’t have to even when I watch it again, which I already have.

Immediately starting off with how I love that everyone was worried about Ian taking his meds because it’s going to be a stressful day for him. It wasn’t overbearing or accusatory, it was genuine care and concern for Ian’s well being on his and Mickey’s big day. This is the love and attention Ian has always deserved from his family!

Carl asked the question we’ve all been asking! Where is Mickey getting the money for this wedding? Liam killed me with his response to Ian. “Hmph. Savings?” Like, yeah right. Oh Mickey you adorable man. He’s fucking stealing money on his own to pay for his wedding. I fucking love him so much!

I know people will hate that he was doing this and probably complain about it, but as long as he didn’t get caught, I’m fine. These characters have grown and changed, but they haven’t changed that much. Let’s just be happy Mickey didn’t get shot or go to prison and he was able to afford to throw himself and Ian a beautiful wedding.

It did not get passed me that Mickey came out of the restroom from his shower after Ian did. I’m pretty sure sexy time already started that day in the shower!!! No one will convince me otherwise.

Liam knowing as soon as Mickey walked in what was about to happen and walked the hell out of there. Hilarious! Smart kid! Carl just sitting there until Mickey had to tell him to get the fuck out was also fucking hilarious! Especially when thinking back to the time Mickey was staying there in season 4. They couldn’t even share a bed in front of Ian’s family. I love that this is gonna be their life from now on. This family is so much better with Mickey in it and because of it we have a happy and in love Ian. Nothing could be better!

Our first glance at Mickey’s butt was a plus! We fucking needed that! We needed more of that, but beggers can’t be choosers.

Carl getting them edible boxers! Liam wanting to get them something special even though he had no money! He’s so precious! He got them a honeymoon car!

So Debbie and Sandy slept together the night before for the first time (still not supportive of this relationship) meaning Ian and Mickey were planning their wedding the day before they had the wedding. Even when they still needed to get invitations and send them out!

This doesn’t count as a complaint because the shows lack of proper timelines and not being realistic is nothing new for them. But I’m going to believe some time had to have passed. They can’t send out invitations, get RSVP’s and book a venue in one fucking day. Another fuck up was Mickey bit Ian’s right arm and when we see the bite mark it’s on Ian’s left arm. How can they be this incompetent?

I know people weren’t thrilled about Mickey biting Ian and Ian having to punch Mickey twice, but I can live with it. Of course I don’t love or even like to see them hit each other. I hate it too! I was more sad that they had to go through this on their wedding day and I wish they didn’t have to go through that. Especially because of that asshole Terry.

But Mickey was so angry he couldn’t think straight. And Ian had no other choice but to punch him in order to save him from getting killed by Terry or Mickey getting sent back to prison. They didn’t do it because they were fighting with each other, which probably makes it easier for me to deal with it.

Poor Ian had to run all the way to the venue and back, up the front steps, up the stairs, then down the stairs and then down the back stairs to chase after Mickey and then gets bit by him. All with his broken leg! He needs a rest!

Ian’s face when he’s watching the smoke from the fire was sad. It made me so sad for him. I know he wasn’t into the wedding planning like Mickey, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t just as sad or upset over the fact their venue was burning down.

I was liking Tommy in the previous episode, but he done fucking pissed me off with his stupid opinions that no one asked for. I do love that Vee defended them, but if it were me, I would’ve told him he could find another fucking bar if he said anything like that ever again in this bar. But that’s just me!

I’m happy that Lip’s story line got attention because it deserved it. I’m also happy that it didn’t overshadow Ian and Mickey’s big day. Everything felt evenly spread out for once. Except for Frank but he’s had enough episodes centered around him, for him to sit on the back burner for once. Even though the episode was named after Gallavich and it was their wedding day, I expected John Wells to somehow make this all about Frank. It must’ve killed John Wells! It must be tough not getting it your way for one episode! Poor thing, old rich white men can’t seem to catch a break. I’m totally being sarcastic, but I’m sure you caught that.

I was so impressed with Liam playing Frank the way he did. That kid is a genius! I also love that he wanted Frank at Ian’s wedding and guilted him to be there. I’m not Franks biggest fan and Ian can say he could care less all he wants, but it was good for him to have a parent there and I love Liam for making it happen.

I love that everyone did everything they could to find a place to have the wedding and set everything up for them. This is what this season has been lacking. The whole family together getting shit done! And for once it was for Ian and Mickey.

Mickey talking about how Terry fucking won again and him listing all of the horrible shit he ever did was gut wrenching! He didn’t even mention the worst of it that no one else knows about, except he and Ian and Lip. Terry’s a piece of shit monster that needs to rot in hell.

I know they said in season 3 that Mickey’s mom died. But I’m going with what was last said, and what was last said was she took off. I’m glad we even got this bit of info about her. It’s confusing because we have different stories, but I’m going with what Mickey said. Besides why would he lie in this moment? Ian and Mandy talking about her being dead could’ve been Mandy saying she’s dead to them since she left them behind with Terry.

Mickey told Ian he loves him twice in front of everyone!!! I was crying from that alone. This was a big moment. Anytime Mickey can profess his love for Ian in front of everyone is always a big deal. Considering he was afraid to even act like friends with Ian in front of other people in the beginning.

I love that Lip was still thinking about where to have the wedding and Mickey’s like “Ey, asshole, were you not listening? We’re doing a murder thing here.” Went from sad to funny in a split second.

I thought if we ever got Ian and Mickey talking about having kids, it would be next season. That was if they would even talk about it in the first place. This episode gave me everything I wanted and more. This was one of those more moments.

I couldn’t believe they talked about kids in this episode. I love the fact that Mickey didn’t want them until Ian said he did. Of course Mickey would be happy either way as long as Ian’s happy. If Ian wants kids, he wants kids too. I don’t want this for them now, but maybe in a few years. Really whenever they’re ready. I want what they want!

I also hoped, but didn’t think we’d get, a moment alone with them before the wedding and we did! I squealed and cried so much during this scene! Ian tying Mickey’s bow tie! Both of them teasing each other about how ugly and how pale the other is! That was so them!

Ian charming that polish lady when Mickey was starting to say something bad, was again so them. I also freaked over the polish lady because she came out in Edward Scissorhands and damn she’s aged! But I digress.

Ian and Mickey standing in the venue when the Gallagher’s and Balls were setting everything up was another beautiful moment to me. They could just stand back and watch their family and loved ones set everything up for them.

Ian complementing Mickey’s chairs was so sweet. The cake topper killed me! But the fact that everyone knows Mickey is a bottom, at least for Ian, makes me even more proud of him!

I was not excited about the gay Jesus groupies, especially Geneva, being at the wedding. There was speculation that she might marry Ian and Mickey. I did not like that idea, thank God it didn’t happen. She wanted Ian to fight the charges and possibly go to jail longer and none of them showed up for Ian when he went to prison.

But if it wasn’t for them Ian wouldn’t have ended up in jail with Mickey. I believe that Ian and Mickey are soulmates, so they would’ve ended up together eventually, but it happened sooner because of the shit they got Ian into. In a weird way they made this happen sooner.

I never fully forgive anyone for mistreating Ian or Mickey, but they are somewhat forgiven for keeping Terry from ruining the wedding. They kept Terry from hurting Mickey and/or Ian and for that I will always be grateful. They were good for something in the end. When it really mattered for Ian.

Really, I’m just so happy that everyone came through for Ian and Mickey on their wedding day. Ian and Mickey deserved this more than anyone and I can’t believe they finally got it.

I was also hoping for a moment between Ian and Lip alone before the ceremony. It was touching and enough to make me happy and for me to start crying again. Ian’s choice of song for the ceremony was fucking perfect! I was already a mess at this point!

I thought neither of them were going to walk down the aisle, but my God did I love that Mickey did. I loved Kevin standing there with the bat. He’s basically me when anyone tries to mess with Gallavich. He’s basically all of us!

GOD THE VOWS!!! The fact that I didn’t drop dead in that moment is a fucking miracle! Mickey saying he will cherish Ian really hit me! Ian deserves to be cherished and we all know Mickey is the man for the job. Ian saying it back to Mickey! I was balling!

Frank crying and being happy for them was such a weird emotional moment for me. I know he cares about his kids. I really do not like Frank. When watching season 8, I talked with @luckyshazmrsmonaghansblog about the episode Frank helped them out with that drug dealer. We agreed Frank has his moments and comes through for his kids sometimes.

But this was just for Ian. He never tells Ian he loves him. That time Frank went around telling all his kids he loved them one by one in season 6. I noticed he never told Ian he loved him. He told all his kids he loved them but never said that to Ian. Not once!

They never really had a moment together like Frank has with his other kids. So this was a very emotional moment. It was just him showing up and being supportive and not ruining the wedding. But for Ian that’s a big deal. Especially when Mickey’s father is doing the exact opposite of that.

When Ian asks “Now?” to kiss Mickey, I literally yelled at the TV “YES!” This is such a triumphant moment for them. I’m still in disbelieve it happened. I never would’ve believed it years ago. I’m having a hard time believing it now.

All the music that was played at the wedding was perfect! They hired a good DJ. Mickey dancing!!!!! He’s such a bad dancer and I love it! I love that he did that without being asked. He just wanted to dance at his wedding because he was so happy! Another thing I hoped for but didn’t think we’d get was a slow dance between Ian and Mickey. But we fucking got it!!!!!!

Tami telling Ian and Mickey she loved them? Again, I said out loud to the TV “Since when?” Tami kept calling them ex cons and has barley interacted with them. Looking closely she doesn’t even say it. I think they added that in post production. She wasn’t even originally scripted to say that.

I love that when Kev and Vee were the center of attention for a minute, we still see Mickey dancing and doing air guitar to Whitney Houston in the background! Fucking love it!!!!

Ian sitting down and watching the love of his life, his husband dancing with his family at their wedding was beautiful! A moment Ian will never forget, I’m sure.

It was so Ian to bring up missing his mom at his wedding. Out of all the kids, I will always believe Ian was her favorite. She wasn’t the best mom in the world, but she really loved Ian. I’m sure she would’ve been so happy and proud of him.

And out of all the kids, Ian was the one who connected the most with her and grieved her death the most. I wish he could’ve had her there and I cried when he teared up talking about her. For once Debbie said something right. Monica would’ve loved it. I’m glad the comment was supportive and Ian wasn’t teased for missing his own mother.

If I wasn’t already a mess Ian called Mickey his husband!! I started crying even harder at that! Again the song for the slow dance was fucking perfect for them. Once the slow song came on Mickey started looking around for Ian and that is so sweet!

I was so overwhelmed by this that I didn’t even notice that Lip was drinking right away. It took a few seconds to realize and when I did I was like “No Lip!” I’m glad he got help right away though. Shows how far he’s come as well.

Ian and Mickey driving off together was something I thought would be the last we would see of them this season. I loved it and that Liam got them a beautiful car to use for their honeymoon. I saw this months ago when the spoilers came out and I figured that would be it.

But then we get them at their honeymoon!!!!! I never even dreamed we’d see this. I didn’t even hope for this because I didn’t think it would actually happen! They had the cheesy honeymoon suite with a heart shaped bed and everything!!!

I never knew I wanted this for them until it happened. I fucking loved that they had the cheesiest honeymoon suite experience. For real, this makes me so happy! I don’t know how Terry could’ve found out where they were but okay.

Another bonus! We got another shot of Mickey’s butt!!! We got two butt shots! This was the best episode of the whole fucking series! I know I’m biased because of my love for Gallavich, but it really was the fucking best!

I’m guessing this is a set up for more Terry next season. I hope it doesn’t last long. Only long enough to get rid of him somehow. Without Ian or Mickey getting in trouble with the law for it.

#my thoughts and ramblings #Ian and Mickey's wedding day!#cameron monaghan #ian gallagher #noel fisher #mickey milkovich #gallavich #ian x mickey #gallahitched #shameless season 10 #shameless us #@luckyshazmrsmonaghansblog

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jedicollins · 4 years

Text

Journal Entry #1

Based on the RP with @itsxlucifer

it’s a beast, hence the read more.

Sunday, July 26th.

Hey Mom and Dad.

I met the Devil.

The real one. This isn’t a metaphor. Not some kind of flowery exposition.

I met the Devil.

Satan.

Beelzebub,

The Prince of Darkness,

The Morningstar,

The Lightbringer….

Whatever you want to call him.

And honestly?

He’s not that bad.

He’s not the evil guy I thought he would be.

Sure, he’s into all the sinful stuff, and fuck if I can’t hear him say “naughty” in his accent…

But he isn’t evil.

At least, I don’t get the sense he is. I don’t know for sure. For all I know, he is manipulating the shit out of me and the entire club is demon invested. But right now? I don’t think the Devil is bad.

No, not the Devil, I shouldn’t say that.

Lucifer, his name is Lucifer Morningstar.

He owns the nightclub, LUX, and I can’t think of a better place of work. Bullshit isn’t tolerated. The security is top-notch. No-one gets the chance to fuck with the staff. The slightest hint of it, the slightest signal, and they’re on it.

I’ve honestly never felt saver working for a club, and hell, I’ve already made a friend there, too. His name is Reese. He’s Latino, fucking gorgeous, and sadly, really fucking gay. Just my luck, right?

One of the other bartenders, Maze, is apparently a demon who works for Lucifer, handling his finances. Never thought the Devil would need a banker or whatever they’re called.

Things are fucking weird in my life right now.

And I don’t know how to make heads or tails of it. how am I meant to process I’m dealing with the man who is meant to be the Devil? And on top of that, finding out I care about him, and he isn’t the bad guy everyone claims him to be?

What is my life right now? Seriously. How the hell do I unpack all of this?

I guess the best way to start is at the beginning, right?

This guy literally hired me straight out of my old job. Like, he took one look at me and decided I should work for him. Just like that. Saying he knows a good, hard working person when he sees one. That’s all he needed. Like, what? I didn’t believe him, at first. I thought it was some kind of scam or something.

But it turned out it wasn’t. LUX is a real club. Which, by the way. Fucking on the nose. LUX? Light in Latin? The lightbringer is a different name for Lucifer?

He’s so fucking extra.

Still, he hired me after a trial run and here I am. Working in Lux as one of the bartenders, listening to terrible, thumpy music all the livelong night and sometimes, if he’s in the mood for it, listening to Lucifer’s beautiful piano playing. And his voice… holy mother of fuck, his voice… his singing. I don’t even know what to call it. it’s like this rich- I don’t know what to call it. His singing voice is probably best compared to what Velvet feels like. Rich and soft and you just want to stroke it all the damn time. And even that likely doesn’t come close. His voice makes my spine tingle. And not just his singing voice, his normal speaking voice, too.

And best thing yet? Him singing “perfect the way you are”. I love that song so much, and hearing him sing it? Holy crap. For real, I would pay to have an MP3 of him singing it. I think it’s the accent that does it. there’s something sexy about it. I think what made it even more special was the fact it was just the two of us when it happened. Fuck, I shouldn’t be swooning the way I am thinking about it, but shit. For real, it was something special. Especially as in the few days working there, I haven't seen anyone else approaching the piano while he plays. Let alone singing with him. He invited me to sit with him while he played, seeing his fingers moving across the keys? his voice? And that song. Just wow. What else was I meant to do then sing along with him?

The first night I met him at LUX, he was playing already, so he asked me what tune I wanted to hear. I told him that song. I admit, it was me being a little shit. Because I know there’s not a lot of people who know of it, or the band, Dead by April. So for him to know it, and to be able to play it perfectly? it was- something else.

So sitting with him, singing the song together, watching him play? Man, it was special. It was something- I don’t know. It felt like there was some kind of connection there in that moment.

If only I realized back then what the connection was, you guys.

So the whole point of me gushing on the piano playing? It was all caused by him asking one question I never thought I would have to answer. ‘What do you desire?” and the answer still hurts. And I don’t know, being made to answer it? It was like Lucifer’s hand was reaching down deep into my soul and dragged the answer out, kicking and screaming.

I don’t want to repeat the answer, but it led to me avoiding him for a few days. Which spawned the singing moment at his piano. I eventually laid down everything. What happened to you, what had done it. and he just believed me. He said he would help me. I didn’t believe it, but he did. He kept his word. I fully expected to be fired for being crazy. But, he didn’t.

We went back home. Back to Independence. 11 years passed since that night.

And God… it confronted me with so many things I thought I’d pushed away deep down in the back of my mind. It all came rushing back. Things I never want to think about again. The worst part of it all was the fact Margaret still had some kind of hold over me. She still was able to manipulate me the way she did when I was little. She still had the power to make me pass out. Though, I admit, it might just be because shortly before? We had a conversation with a little girl and her mother… both of which reminded me of myself and you, mom, when I was little.

Margaret, however? She’s not the person I thought she was. It turns out she was a demon. Something I never realized. To me, she felt real. She felt like a real person when I hugged her or held her hand late at night. And that’s because she apparently was? Apparently, she was a demon inhabiting the body of a little girl. How the hell she’s been able to hide all this time, I don't know. I can only assume there’s some kind of vent or crawlspace in the bottom of my closet she was able to get in or out through.

There was a fight. Of course, there was. I want to say I was badass and kicked her ass, but that’s not what happened. She got in my head. She brought back all the memories of that night. It hurt so bad, I thought my head was gonna explode. I thought I was going to die of the pain. I don’t know exactly what happened in between, but somewhere along the line, Lucifer got hurt. I remember seeing a hole in the drywall connecting my room to yours. When the pain subsided, Margaret came at me with a knife. She put it to my neck and I fought, as hard as I could, to hold her off. If it hadn’t been for Lucifer, I would’ve had my throat sliced. Fortunately, the only thing I’ve got left from is a little cut on my collar bone, when the bitch dropped the knife. It’s more annoying right now than really painful. The scab is itchy.

In that moment, however? I found out who Lucifer really is. He commanded her to go back to hell, made her leave the little girl’s body.

That’s when I realized Lucifer had been telling the truth all along. He never lied about being the Devil, hell, if anything, he’ll flaunt it for all he’s worth. I was the issue. I was the one who didn’t believe him. I legitimately thought he was playing up some kind of bad boy, playboy persona he’d crafted for himself to be able to sound interesting and appealing to people. I was so fucking wrong.

I want to tell you I was brave and took this in my stride, I didn’t feel anything about him being the Devil. But, the truth is? Well, I passed out. I’m not ashamed to admit it. I mean, it’s a culture shock, right? And combine this with the whole thing with Margaret? Can you blame me? The last thing I really remember is staring at him, then waking up staring at the ceiling of a hotel room, lying on the bed.

Lucifer was kneeling on the ground, obviously hurt.

I thought about running. I thought about running away as fast and far as I could while he was down. I thought about running away forever, leaving L.A. behind and pretend nothing like this had ever happened. pretend I didn’t meet the Devil and he had been kind to me. Hell, I was afraid. I was scared I’d somehow made a deal and sold my soul. All those damn clichés about him.

Most of all though, I was scared because I had thought about having sex with him. Yes, I thought this about my boss, I know it's not professional, but come on… Mom, if you’d seen the guy? You would agree with me. Sorry, Dad, but that’s just the facts. Seriously though, his face and body, not to mention his fucking sexy accent? There is no way anyone is capable of resisting him. I can just barely resist jumping his bones. I really, really would like to meet the person capable of completely resisting this hot as hell man child.

Point is though, I didn’t run. I couldn’t. How could I just leave him while he was hurt? Not after the things he’d done for me? The fact he’d gone so far to help me with something that’s been haunting me for a decade? I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know how to deal with this. From my understanding, he had broken ribs, and there was something wrong with his leg. But he refused to let me call for an ambulance, so he could get checked out. So I did the only thing I could think of. I ran to find someone to bribe for a medkit.

When I came back like 15 minutes later?

He was fine.

It was like he had never been hurt in the first place.

That’s the moment he told me what was going on. He explained he can’t be hurt or damaged. If he gets hurt, it’s more like a tap. And if he does get hurt, those things heal in like seconds. that’s the way it works for a celestial, apparently. But this time? It was different.

And that difference was me.

I was there when he got hurt.

I make the Devil vulnerable. Fuck, for all I know, with me around? He can be killed.

But why me? Why did I get picked for this curse? I don’t mean anything to anyone. Well, I mean, outside maybe the few friends I’ve made at the club, but beyond that? I don’t have anything or anyone, no-one gives a shit about someone like me? I’m a nobody, I’m just a bartender. I’m not special. You both weren't. I’m sorry, but, our family doesn’t have some kind of ancient special bloodline or like connections to famous historical figures or whatever. Not that I have found, anyway. You both didn’t pass anything special to me?

So why the fuck did it get decided I’m the one to have this curse? Why me? I don’t want to cause anyone pain. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want Lucifer to get hurt because of me. And yes, I’m more than aware this is a fucking, crazy thought. He is Lucifer, he’s meant to be evil incarnate, and I’m sitting here upset about the fact him being close to me means he can be hurt.

I’m really fucking scared. What does this all mean? Why did it get decided it’s me who has this? Why not someone else? Does this mean something’s going to happen? Am I meant to be involved into some kind of grand scheme God’s concocted? Am I meant to kill Lucifer to prevent the apocalypse or something? I don’t want this kind of responsibility. I’m not Buffy the Vampire Slayer? I barely know ow to make a proper Mojito, let alone how to fight? I’m not strong enough for something like that.

I don’t want this responsibility, I don't want this curse. I don’t want to be involved in some kind of major plot going on behind the galactic scenes.

I don’t know what to do.

Do I run away? Do I just keep going and see what happens? Maybe get the fuck away from Lucifer and find another job?

Thing is though, there’s something inside me telling me I shouldn’t run away. That I should stick with Lucifer. I don’t know what the feeling is or where it comes from, but I think it’s the same feeling that’s allowing me to accept Lucifer is actually meant to be the Devil, but at the same time making me believe he’s a decent person.

Because he is. He’s a decent person. He’s not evil? Seriously, all the ‘sinning’ that goes on in LUX? That’s not him. He doesn’t have any hand in it in the slightest. It’s the humans walking around themselves who do it. They’re the ones cheating on their partners, they’re the ones getting drunk or snorting drugs or whatever the hell they can get away with inside the club. Lucifer doesn’t cause anything like that. He just mingles, he plays his piano, he doesn’t seek out people to make a deal for their soul. Sure, sometimes people ask him for a favor, but that’s it. There’s no scroll coming out of his pocket to dramatically unroll so people can sign on the dotted line to sell their soul? He’s just… well, vibing is the best way to put it, I guess.

I know this because I’ve been watching him for the past week, watching the way he is around people, watching the way he acts. Lucifer is being blamed for so much stuff he doesn’t even do? “The Devil made me do it”. Yeah, how about no, pal? You just don’t wanna admit you’re a shitty person.

Fuck, I’m rambling.

The fact is, Lucifer isn’t a bad person. He can’t be with the way he is. How can anyone think this considering the fact he went this far for me? One of his employees, someone who shouldn’t really matter to him? Hell, if he wanted to, he could replace me just like that and not even bat an eye at it. I need to ask Reese if he did something similar for him. Whether he had some kind of problem Lucifer helped him with.

Is it strange of me I hope that’s the case? It probably sounds horrible, putting it like that. I don’t want to wish ill on my friend, but I guess I’m just struggling with the idea he’s singled me out to help. I still don’t really understand why he did. I mean, he’s the Devil, isn’t that kind of his gig? Punish the wicked and all that crap? But still… why does he care about someone like me?

I’m struggling with the idea of this “curse”. I don’t know what else to call it. I don’t want to hurt people. I don’t want people to get hurt because of me. and yet? There’s something inside of me that allows one person to be hurt. This is so fucking fucked up. This is even more fucked up than someone sneaking into our room at night and leaving ominous messages about Lucifer being the Devil.

Fuck.

I don’t want this power. There’s gotta be some way to suppress it, or get rid of it, right? There just has to be. that’s how these things go, right?

Maybe I can ask Maze? She’s a demon, she knows about this kind of stuff, right? Well, most likely. Maybe she knows where I can start finding answers to all this. I know I could and likely should talk to Lucifer about this, but what if it requires something big? Like a sacrifice or dying or something like that? Maybe I’m just being ridiculous now. But I don't want this curse. I want it gone. Whatever fucked up plan God or whoever the fuck decided I should have this power has for me? Fuck them. I don't want any fucking part of it.

They can go straight to hell and fuck themselves. I won’t play a part in their game. I refuse.

What am I gonna do?

Can this curse even be beaten?

I’m really fucking scared.

I wish you are here.

I miss you.

#Jedi's Journal #itsxlucifer #//man this is a beast #Jedi's got a lot to say about Luci #i mean #i can sum it up in 1 sentance what i think of him but uh... yeah #XD

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livingmybestfictionallife · 5 years

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I’m Your Huckleberry.

Anon Request: Some platonic Klaus x reader angst about Dave....ya

It had only been a matter of days since I’d last seen Klaus Hargreeves. The last I saw of him was as he gleefully traipsed out of rehab on the account of his father dying, but he didn’t seem bent out of shape about losing his old man. Shit, if I had to put his reaction into words, I’d say he was released more than anything. I’d met my date with destiny not too long after he did and entered the world clean again. Of course there was an itch--I don’t think there will ever NOT be an itch for a fix--but I’d pushed myself too far and was “lucky,” as the doctors put it, to be alive. Never once did those bastards step back and think whether or not I wanted to be here, but that’s a conversation for a different day--one where I didn’t watch the shell of the man I’d recently known to be Klaus Hargeeves stumble off a bus and smash a briefcase into smithereens.

“Hey!” I shouted over the roar of street traffic and started to jog toward the lanky junkie I’d met over a year ago in the very rehab we’s just both been released from. I’d admit that I hadn’t expected the briefcase he was slamming on the ground to spontaneously combust, but I also had to admit that, when he and I were around one another, crazier, more unexplainable shit had gone down.

Catching up to him was a bitch and a half, but once I reached him as he crouched down in the alley beside the old umbrella factory--the one I remember he explained he grew up in--he was visibly different. The playful friend I’d made in rehab, the constant companion I knew I had after meeting once and fucking up my life with, the person who I trusted more information about my life with than my own family, was completely transformed. “Klaus?” I said softly as I approached the man crumpled on the ground before me. In all the times I’d visited him or come across his path in the past year, I’d never seen him wear such earthy and bland colors. If he wasn’t wearing black, he was wearing something colorfully popping in contrast to his normal apparel. This tattered looking military uniform was uncharacteristic for the person I’d come to know.

“Y/n?” I heard him ask as he peered over his arms, which barricaded all ability for him to see the world around him. Even if I couldn’t recognize him by his current state, I could recognize that defense mechanism in an instant. It was what he did when he was having a bad trip--he’d bury his face in his arms and cover his ears as best he could, even if it meant shoving his head between his knees and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I said again, even softer this time. It took a while for Klaus to fully open up to me, but when he did, it was when we were both too fucking high to really realize the extent of what he’d said. I wouldn’t realize until later the trust he had in sharing what he had with me--the fact that he was one of the famous Umbrella Academy heroes and that his abilities, and his father’s treatment, had driven him to self-medicating--and he wouldn’t realize until later that telling me was probably the smartest thing his dumbass had done in a while. After suffering for so many years with crippling anxiety and having to learn to pull myself from the horrors in my head and into the world around me, bringing other people out of overpowering anxiety and panic is what he deemed my superpower to be. I pressed my thumbs into each of his palms as my hands grasped his so tightly, he had not choice but to latch on or lose himself to whatever images threatened his mind. “Is this blood?” I found myself asking him as I glanced down at our locked hands. If I hadn’t been tuned into his every movement, I would have missed the slight, apathetic and hopeless nod that caused a curled lock to fall into his face.

I tried to imagine him happier, to remember how he was the first time we’d shot up together. At that point we had known one another for about three months and sure he had an obviously tortured soul, but he at least had gleeful look in his eye as he stuck himself and knew he would further elongate his high.

“You’re what?” he’d gasped moments later in response to my trust in him as we reclined on a raggedy old couch I had gotten from a second-hand store to furnish my sad excuse of an apartment.

“Ace,” I replied defensively. “Gotta fucking problem?” I questioned in a rather teasing tone. I’d always tried to downplay explaining my sexuality, mostly because ever since I’d came out to myself and those I figured I’d cared enough about, I’d been treated as if I was making shit up.

“Sounds like you have a fucking problem,” he tried to tease only to straighten himself up and peer over at me. His voice dropped and his eyes gazed across my face. “That was shitty. Fuck! I’m sorry, (Y/N),” he hurried to say and lightly press his thumb to my jaw. “I think it’s badass you can be that true to yourself. How long have you known?”

“Always I suppose. The other kids were interested in learning about sex in health and shit and I was to eager to get the fuck out of there.”

“Well, I don’t want to be more insensitive than I have, but do you think you just haven’t met the right person? Guy, girl, anyone?” he’d asked.

“I’m not a prude or a virgin, Klaus,” I’d said back to him with a mix of anger and regret in my voice. It took a shit tone of chemically altering my pysche to trust myself enough to open up to people, and I didn’t want to deal with the consequences of trusting the wrong person. “I’ve tried, but I’ve never been into it. Anytime I’d convince myself enough to even be with someone, it felt forced and apathetic...even like I was being raped.” My admission had floated into the air from my mouth as quickly as the heroin had taken over my body, and I didn’t expect it to stick in Klaus’s head the way that admission had stuck in mine for years. I turned sightly to look at how he was looking at me. His large, hazel eyes seemed to envelope my soul and I couldn’t help tilting my check into the hand he had gently pressed along the side of my face.

“Strange how two people so fucking opposite can get along so well,” he sighed and slipped an arm around me.

“No shit,” I sighed, “what are you, if you don’t mind my asking. Gay, bi, pan? It doesn’t matter to me! I just want to use proper pronouns around you, especially if I’m going to be sharing my good shit with you!” He feigned a look of disbelief quickly followed by a laugh. "Come on, Klaus, I’ve known you for how long now? I’ve noticed you’re about as straight as a limp noodle.”

“If I’m a noodle I better be a fucking farfalle,” he laughed.

“Be whatever you want,” I sighed through a laugh in return.

“I’m thirty and I haven’t exactly figured it out yet. I’ve been with women, men, trans-women, trans-men. I’m defiantly on the spectrum though.”

“That’s not what that--Klaus, you’re too fucking high.” I’d groaned at his comment and tried to ignore the obvious confusion he had toward my reaction.

Back then I didn’t know that the mess of a man beside me would later become my truest and closest friend, but right now, that was the moment I held onto as I grasped his hands and pleaded for him to look me in the eyes. He was a stubborn ass when he wanted to be, but right now, he was broken and scared in a way I’d never seen in him before.

With a little force, I stood from my crouched position beside him, made sure his hands remained in mine, and pulled him up with me. One of his arms instinctively dropped around my shoulders and I slung one of mine around his back to hold onto his other hand. “Come on, Klaus,” I said while supporting some of his weight with my shoulders. I let his feet lead the way and remained a support system for him. He made a rigid path toward the old umbrella factory doors and I took a deep breath.

My best friend needed me. That was my only focus. Not the lavish upbringing he had filled with luxuries and amenities he had that my family could have only dreamed existed, only Klaus. I’d managed to get his grimy, dirt covered, and bloodied self up a flight of stairs and moved alongside him as he made his way into a bathroom. He collapsed again on the floor of the bathroom and leaned his spine against the clawfoot tub that sat in the middle of the room.

“Klaus, talk to me,” I pleaded with him again.

“Just, just go away, (y/n),” he sighed heavily as he tried to shut the world out once more.

“Klaus, don’t push me away,” I stated while pulling myself next to him. I leaned forward on my knees, allowing the pain of having my bony joints sink into the hard floor.

“You-you can’t begin to understand what I feel,” he said again, this time in a harsher tone. He was defiant and angry, something I’d never seen from Klaus, especially not when it was aimed at me. I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant, but nothing came out. “You’ll never know what I’m feeling!” he burst. His body shook as he let out what seemed to be a last stitch gasp for life. His eyes were fierce and grim as his hands curled into fists and shook under the emotional stress he was under. “You’ve never loved someone to be broken when they’re gone!” His voice was only a few decibels over the broken whisper he’d spoken with in the alley, but it felt like a burning scream, a slap in the face...a dagger to the heart.

“You’re hurt. You don’t mean that,” I processed for him as he crumpled before me again.

“(Y/n), just...just go,” he sighed while trying to push my hands from his.

“Klaus,” I sighed, “you don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t you dare push me away.”

“Just stop, (y/n)!” he said with tears falling from his eyes, making long, muddy streaks along his cheeks and down his neck. “Stop,” he sighed again hopelessly. “You don’t...you can’t...”

“What, love anyone?” I asked and looked at him with a catch-22 accusation. Not only could I see the initial, broken and empty look in his eyes that he had when he got off the bus, but he also looked like he was trying to force me into not caring about him--into being okay with abandoning him in his time of need to justify the fact that either no one cares about him or that life is hopeless and empty. “You’re my best fucking friend, Klaus. I do love you, more than I love myself, but that’s not news to you and you know it. It may not be the way you’re talking about, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t true! You know me, Klaus. You know somewhere behind the pain I have always, and will always be there for you. You’re my farfalle and I’m your huckleberry. Regardless of everything else, I love you, so when you’re ready, I’m here, and if you don’t want anything, I’ll still be here, because it hurts too much to know you’re in this much pain.” My hands continued to press around his tightly and I brought my eyes to look directly into his. He sighed hopelessly as his lips quivered, but his arms lurched forward and pulled me closer until I too was covered in dirt, grime, and blood.

“Thank you, Huckleberry,” he whispered lightly through his pain and wrapped his arms around my neck, clinging to me like I was his last life line. I placed my hand at the base of his neck, much like he encouraged me to when pulling him out of a bad trip or a panic induced moment.

“Never a problem, Farfalle.”

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfic #the umbrella academy fanfiction #tua #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus x reader #klaus hargreeves x oc #number four #anon request #reader request #tua fanfic #tua fanfiction

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gleekto · 5 years

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All In the Past (10/13)

Prompt: You were the bane of my existence in high school but now we’re going to college together AU

Cheerio!Kurt/ Jock-Football!Blaine

Summary: Kurt Hummel is tolerating his senior year of high school. He’s head cheerio, which affords him some protection from the hamhock bullies who ruined his designer knock offs in his first few years. He can manage his one last year with that new charming transfer student, Blaine Anderson. swooping into his school, rising to popularity, and completely ignoring him. Next year he’ll be free from a world where everyone is afraid of the gay kid.

He just didn’t expect Blaine Anderson to swoop into his college world too.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Part 10 - Alarm

Kurt is in a daze as they walk back on the path towards his dorm. He feels out of body, like he’s watching himself walk beside Blaine, the energy around them making him hot despite the fall chill. But the Blaine he’s watching is cool as a cucumber, chatty and happy, like they are two buddies shooting the shit about classes and teachers and whatever regular people talk about who haven’t just admitted to wanting - wanting what? Something.

Or in his case, not admitting it.

“My parents wanted me to go into business but they settled for the prestige of NYU arts with a theatre minor. You’re in that queer literature class, right? I’m thinking of taking it next semester. Is the professor good?”

“Hmmm?” Kurt is pretty sure Blaine is asking him a question about school but they’re approaching his building and the Kurt that is watching him walk sees that Blaine’s cheeks are rosy in the cool air and that the mustard pants compliment his brown pea coat so well that he looks like he walked out of a fall men’s fashion magazine. That outside-of-him Kurt also notices that Blaine is trying to connect with him. Wants to connect with him. Still thinks he’s hot.

“Sorry,” Blaine says turning to him. “I’ve been talking your ear off and you seem a bit distracted?”

That’s putting it mildly. Kurt laughs and knocks into his side. “Marinating, remember?”

“I remember.” Blaine crosses his arms in front of himself to keep warm. “So this is where I take my leave-”

“Do you wanna come up? Or something?”

“Come up?” Blaine repeats, clearly surprised. “Really?” Kurt just nods and holds open the building’s front door, having absolutely no idea what he is doing. The Kurt watching him is as surprised as Blaine, he’s pretty sure.

They walk up in silence. Maybe this was a mistake. He opens the door to his room wondering just how awkward silence can get when you’re confined to a single dorm room with no one else around. Well, they are about to find out. He clicks the door shut and faces Blaine.

Blaine is standing there, coat still on, arms by his sides, face open, eyes warm. He’s happy. He wants to be here. Blaine has hazel eyes - Kurt never noticed before. Which is maybe because Blaine never really looked at him before. And he’s spent the last few weeks trying to avoid looking at Blaine. But now Blaine is looking right at him and his eyes are sparkling and a bit of something else that sends alarms through his body. The bizarre situation overwhelms him enough that he squints his eyes shut.

“Are you okay?”

Kurt opens his eyes again. “Don’t you think this is just a little - “

“Yeah,” Blaine answers before he finishes. Kurt isn’t sure what he’s agreeing with.

“You were not even a friend-” Kurt pauses at the incomprehensibility of the situation. “You wouldn’t even look at me-”

“I looked at you,” Blaine cuts him off. “A lot. I just didn’t let you see it.” Kurt huffs and his breath shivers.

“I didn’t look at you,” Kurt says back, with the slight aggression he still feels. “I know better than to look at straight guys. Especially ones who won’t give you the time of the day.” Kurt stares at him intently now, looks at his too tight mustard pants that fit the ass he became all too acquainted with the other day, the way the buttons on his matching plaid shirt pull just slightly open over his little muscled chest under his open coat, at his eyes that suddenly make Kurt feel both objectified and powerful. Blaine shrugs his shoulders. “Well,” Kurt corrects himself, “I didn’t look at you until the other day in the change room when you dropped your towel,” He smirks.

Blaine’s cheeks pinken but his eyes grow darker and he laughs. “I did tell you that I go after what I want.”

Where does he get that cavalier confidence? “You asshole.” Blaine takes a step forward and Kurt feels goosebumps on his arms. “Just want to confirm-” Blaine asks, eyes flicking back and forth from Kurt’s eyes to his lips, “Still marinating here, right?”

Kurt takes a deep breath, “No.”

“No?” Blaine hesitates.

“Simmering,” Kurt gives his answer.

A beat later and Kurt is pressed up against his dorm door, Blaine’s mouth open and hard on his. Blaine is kissing him and he is kissing and kissing him back. Kurt pulls their bodies together, doesn’t want any room between them, can’t get close enough. The outside-of-him Kurt is surprised he’s so sure. But the in-his-body Kurt isn’t surprised. It just feels so good. Blaine feels so good.

Blaine pushes into him, holding Kurt’s face in his hands, letting his lips explore. Blaine is not tentative. Or shy. Or gentle. Blaine is all over him, tongue in his mouth, tasting and moaning and pressing. Kurt feels like he’s on fire.“Thought about you for so long,” Blaine confesses before he starts kissing the side of his neck.

Kurt is sure he has now entered some alternate reality where the popular football jock pines over the gay cheerleader, and in this alternate reality he is bold, grabbing behind him and squeezing Blaine’s ass through his tight yellow jeans. “Yes,” Blaine says as he does it but groans in frustration and takes a step back.

“Yes?” Kurt feels suddenly exposed, Blaine moving too far away.

“Would it be presumptuous of me at this point to say that I’d like to at least take our jackets off?”

“At least?” Kurt catches the suggestion. He raises an eyebrow, as he tosses his coat down on the chair on top of Blaine’s and sits down on his single dorm bed, motioning for Blaine.

“Well, that’s up to you.” Blaine shrugs.

“Just me?”

“Yeah,” Blaine leans over the space between them and kisses him again, slowly this time. He pulls at Kurt’s lips with his teeth, traces his lips with his tongue. Kurt feels it everywhere. It’s disgustingly sexy. “I know what I want.”

“Okay.” Because what else is he supposed to say? Blaine knows what he wants. He leans over to kiss him again.

...

Kurt also knows what he wants. The outside-of-him Kurt smiles down at him and winks , as he finally leaves the room, with Blaine, half naked on top of real Kurt, pushing down into his body.

They sat on his bed still fully dressed and kissing gently, hands on faces and necks and chests. Kurt barely noticed when Blaine’s hands untucked his shirt, hands rubbing at the base of his back. But he did notice that Blaine really wears shirts a size too small because he couldn’t do the same in return.

“I’m going to rip your perfectly matched shirt,” Kurt breathed frustrated into his ear. “Though I’m not complaining about the fit.”

“Take it off,” Blaine said to him. Take it off, outside-of-him Kurt nudged him forward before taking his exit. So he did. Followed by his own. And they lay down and let gentle turn into something more urgent again, Blaine pressing on top of Kurt when side by side wasn’t enough.

Kurt squeezes his ass again, pushing them into each other and Blaine groans for more.

“I like your-” Kurt stops but squeezes again. Can’t say it. Blaine pulls back from where he was kissing his neck, looks at Kurt’s pink cheeks.

“My ass?” Blaine says it for him, easily. “Well, my ass likes it when you do that. And I like that you’re-”

“What?”

“I wouldn’t have guessed you were shy,” Blaine says, holding Kurt’s face in his hands.

Great, now Blaine thinks he’s a delicate flower. Just as things were heating up and Kurt was contemplating for the first time in his life how exactly he was going to get these very skinny pants off of himself without making things totally awkward. And what exactly they would do once they were off. “Well, I wouldn’t have guessed you were gay,” Kurt says defensively. “And it’s still kind of hard to process. Maybe you’re going to wake up tomorrow and decide you’re not ready for any of this and re-secure that closet door.”

Blaine smirks and pushes down on him, kissing him deeply, making Kurt’s eyes roll back in his head. “Definitely gay,” Blaine’s body keeps moving in rhythm on his. “And definitely ready.” Blaine pushes down again. “It’s hot that underneath all that bite that you are-”

“What Blaine? Hard?” Kurt challenges and pushes up, flipping them so he’s on top and pushing down. Blaine moans loudly and grabs for him, holding his ass firmly down, bodies flush.

“Tell me how to-” Blaine looks at him, eyes dark and serious, “Show me what you like, anything,” Blaine’s feelings are bare. Or at least his hormones are. Kurt’s not going to tell him that he barely knows. He can mask his inexperience with his strength.

“Let’s take these off,” Is all he says, grabbing at Blaine’s yellow pants. “And you’ll figure it out.”

...

Blaine does figure it out. In fact, Kurt is pretty sure Blaine just won rookie player of the year. Which he might tell him if he wasn’t in a complete state of shock. Blissful shock. But still shock. Football star Blaine Anderson gave him a blowjob. From the moment Kurt was naked, Blaine already naked, lying open and waiting on his bed, all Blaine wanted to do was make him feel good. I love your body. You’re so strong. And big. That part too (He smirked as he looked shamelessly at Kurt’s body). I like how you move. I want to touch you. Can I touch you? And he just went for it.

“I did it,” Blaine sighs happily as he wipes his chin and hands and cuddles into Kurt’s side.

“Understatement of the century.”

“And sorry I finished myself,” That too. He finished himself off. Just from doing that to Kurt. “I was just really turned on.” Blaine really does not need to be apologetic right now. Blaine seems almost as dazed as he feels.

“Glad to be of service.” Really really glad. And also shocked.

“Maybe next time you can -” Blaine motions to his softening body as his eyes flutter shut.

All Kurt hears is next time.

#ok ok ok #I love comments #gleekto writes #all in the past #the a in blaine

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timeisacephalopod · 5 years

Text

Action

Have uh, some random Peter Q/ Tony thing in which Tony is Tony and Peter is a movie director.

“You,” Peter says, pointing at the hottie with the coffee. Everyone is going to hate his guts but they can all deal. He knows what he’s doing, its why people love his shit. “Want to be a cool space vagabond in a movie?”

Hottie with the Coffee stares at him for a long moment, clearly trying to determine if he’s serious. “Do you even know if I can act?” he asks.

Nope but he’s got a feeling and his feelings always end well except that one time he worked with Ronan and nearly ruined his career that movie was so bad but then he bounced back with some heartfelt Oscar winning daddy issues shit people loved so. He’s good. “You can probably act, lets go,” he says, walking off fully expecting his new casting choice to follow him.

Yeah, okay. This isn’t where Tony thought he’d spend his summer but he’s not complaining either. “I thought only rich kids could end up directors,” he says. He knows a few, they’re all shit but Peter is excellent. Fucking insane but excellent nonetheless. Really likes improv, which means his actors have to be good at it. Lucky him Tony happens to be great with a witty one liner.

“Yeah, that’s pretty true. I robbed the tits out of rich people all over California to raise money to make a movie. It ended up being a smash hit success and it put me in demand a little. People came to me to do a couple things, I proved myself a little more, and now I get regular work. None of the show pilots I’ve written have been picked up but I still get stupid amounts of money for writing them so whatever. Movies are more my thing anyway,” he says. “Gamora, move the lights a little to do that thing!” he yells across the set.

Gamora immediately begins moving the lights around and explaining what’s needed to the rest of the lighting crew. That’s not unusual for Peter, handing out some weird instructions and expecting people to get it. You get used to it working for him. “That’s a great backstory, you should make a movie about it,” Tony tells him, laughing.

“Thought about it but I already write a bunch of self insert characters, figured there was no need to do more of it,” he says. “Besides, sci-fi has always been where I wanted to be.”

“Usually you do drama,” Tony says and Peter raises an eyebrow.

“You did your research,” he says and Tony nods. “Yeah. Got stuck in it for a bit, not really that unusual for writers, getting stuck writing one genre in the industry forever. But I got a few people to take a chance on me and now I’m a proven genre jumper so I get a bunch of different shit. Except horror, I can’t write that to save my life. Always ends up horror comedy.”

Tony nods, “but people loved Black Lagoon,” he points out.

“People are dumb, that movie was hot garbage. The only redeemable thing was the fact that the fans started shipping the creature with the fish man from The Shape of Water and that was hilarious,” he says.

“Yeah, I’ve seen the art. So what exactly drew you to me anyway?” he asks because he’s been dying to know.

Peter shrugs, “your hot.” Tony raises an eyebrow. “No really, that’s it. I mean yeah, also you’re ridiculously expressive and carry yourself in a unique way that’s interesting to watch but mostly you’re hot.”

So it was the way he carried himself, interesting. Not really what he’d been expecting, all things considered.

Gamora looks amused, “and the rumor mill has started,” she says, handing her phone off to Peter. He grabs it and rolls his eyes at the TMZ article headline claiming he’s shacking up with Tony but its Tony’s response that catches his attention.

#CanNeitherConfirmNorDeny

More than that the tweet has gone viral. Obviously its a joke, Peter knows that, but he had no idea Tony had such a large and active Twitter base that’s now all interested in his movie for no other reason than Tony being attached to it.

“Bitch, what the fuck? How is this guy a one man marketing campaign?” he asks the screen more than Gamora.

“Probably because he’s already famous, idiot. You do know he’s the son of a billionaire and a genius who’s been in the public eye for years, right?” she asks and no he didn’t know that.

“Well shit, I knew that feeling I had was for a good reason,” he says. Suck it execs.

“Peter he’s well known for being difficult and an asshole, plus he has a history of addiction,” she says. “The fact that none of this seems to be a problem for you is a miracle.”

��Is not, its because I had a good feeling and he looks great on camera. His eyes are unique,” he says and Gamora rolls her eyes.

“Stop hiring people because you think they’re hot, its weird and creepy.”

“I hired you because you’re hot,” he lies and Gamora rolls her eyes.

“You hired me because we worked a job together and you know I’m good with tech. You hired Drax because you think he’s hot,” she says.

“Did not. I hired Drax because he’s a big ass dude and I didn’t know how to say no in the face of all those muscles. I hired Rocket because I thought he was hot.”

Gamora wrinkles his nose, “he looks like a rat.”

“He’s striking, don’t be rude.”

“If you find rats striking,” she mumbles.

“I think rats are very cute and you’re being a dick. Rats are good, Gamora.”

Peter considers Tony for a moment, head tilted to the side. “Okay, yeah, Nebs- Fast and Furious but for all those gay guys and women out there. Feel up Tony’s sexy space booty with the camera,” Peter tells her.

The younger Peter who follows Older Peter around with the clip board gives him a funny look. “Don’t be creepy,” he says.

Older Peter frowns at him, “what? Women deal with it all the time and I, personally, have been victimized by the lack of men’s space booties on TV. Its equality,” he says and Tony snorts.

“What, do you want me to bend over too?” he asks, amused.

“Can you work that naturally into the scene?” he asks and Nebula laughs behind the camera.

Mini Peter smacks Older Peter, “don’t be weird! Don’t do that,” he tells Tony and for some reason Peter allows it. Weird, considering he’s laid back but not afraid to tell someone off if they step on his toes.

“Its this your kid?” Tony asks, squinting at him. There’s a resemblance, sure, with the slightly curly dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. Beyond that they look nothing alike.

“Yes,” Older Peter says at the same time Mini Peter says, “no.”

They exchange a look. “No he’s just like my son, I adopted him three movies ago and we’re feeling up Tony’s space booty. This will vindicate every man who’s been attracted to me ever and also women. Straight dudes are officially the minority here and don’t we make movies to please the majority?” he asks Mini Peter, who rolls his eyes.

“That is a totally twisted take on that argument.”

“So is every take on that argument. Space. Booty. Feel it up,” he says.

Tony rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he tells Peter.

“Look, just be lucky I didn’t include the original sex scene with an A'askavariian,” he says like anyone knows what that is.

“I’m not fucking an alien. Feel my ass up all you want with the camera, but I draw the line at alien fucking,” Tony tells him.

“Yeah, I got told that was uh. Not appealing to the public and hello, Del Toro had that woman fuck a fish man. Monster fucking is palatable to the public, my editors are just dicks,” he says.

“Peter, A'askavariians have tentacles and needles for teeth,” Mini Peter says, baffled.

Tony wrinkles his nose. “Yeah I know you thought the ass thing was creepy but the alien thing is worse so can we get back to my ass?” he asks.

“Hell yeah, sounds good. Nebula, I assume you know how to work that thing,” Peter says, waving a hand around. “Do stuff. Wait, action,” he says, forgetting fifty percent of the relevant words to his job spontaneously. Not unusual for Peter.

Mini Peter looks horrified.

Peter looks like hell, probably, if the rumors are true, because he’s been up all night looking over footage and consulting Rocket for edits later. The guy’s process is a fucking mess. “You should probably sleep,” Tony tells him, bumping shoulders with him. “Today’s going to be a long ass day.” The scene they’re shooting is like ten minutes, which doesn’t sound like a lot but it is when its all stunts and action that looks ridiculous without the CGI to make it look like things are actually exploding. Right now there’s a lot of green screens, sticks with tennis balls on them, and people running around in morph suits.

“Yeah, I’m not leaving anyone else in charge. I have a really specific vision for this and sure I’ve got a good team but also I don’t trust a single one of those assholes,” he says and Tony laughs.

“Will this be more or less painful knowing that you’re tired as hell?” Tony asks. Because some people get nicer and some people turn into massive assholes when step deprived.

Peter looks him over, “for you? Probably a good thing. I assume actors are having as bad a day as I am given that I end up making the poor bastards go through like thirty five takes of one scene. Everyone else? Not so good. I mean I’m a total dick, but shit Gamora knows how lights work why are they like that?” he asks, clearly finding some type of problem and he takes off to go deal with it, leaving Tony to ponder what today will hold.

He decides to make light of that Buzzfeed article that recently came out regarding his supposed relationship with Peter instead of worrying about things.

Peter finds Tony in the morning after he fucking sleeps because he has questions. “You, yeah you, what’s with the Twitter speculation?” he asks, catching Tony with a croissant in his mouth looking confused. “You know, about our non relationship,” he adds.

Tony snorts and pulls the food from his mouth. “That? Good marketing gimmick, people love stupid gossip like that. Figured it couldn’t hurt the movie considering your marketing budget is garbage.”

Yeah, true, he spent too much money on music and landed himself in a three week battle over why he needed to blow that much of the budget on music only to win it by pointing out that music often makes movies. Like Halloween without the creepy Micheal Myers theme song? Just some weird guy in a mask following idiot high school students. Sure he gets stabby but its the music that really sells it. Or it did when it first came out, not its just campy to the modern audience. Point is music can make or break a film and yeah sure, he took the money out of marketing but he’s famous enough now that people who know him will go see his shit because they follow his work- built in audience means he can spare marketing dollars.

“Thanks man, appreciate it after three fucking weeks of arguing over that damn budget,” he says, shaking his head.

“To be fair, I’ve heard the music you want paired with the scenes you shot. It’ll sound amazing,” Tony says and finally some appreciation here.

‘Damn right it will. Didn’t think i’d get marketing in the form of celebrity gossip though and when were you going to tell me you’re already famous?” he asks.

Tony laughs, “thought you recognized me but uh, became clear pretty fast that you didn’t so props to you. The last time I ran into someone who didn’t recognize me on sight I was six. Plus I was bored anyway, might as well spend four months on a movie set.”

“Yeah, but I looked you up. Your company has like five new products launching in the next month,” he says. Which is insane given the time and effort that goes into inventing all those things, testing them and he’s been reliably informed by Wikipedia that Tony’s testing process is extensive, and then comes production, marketing, distribution, customer feedback, and then improvements. All of those things on their own is a stupid amount of work, but together plus spending anywhere from ten to eighteen hours a day on a movie set doing random shit? Tony must have the stamina of a robot because keeping up with it all is borderline impossible.

“Half that stuff was already done when I started this and I have an amazing business partner. Honestly most of the credit for all that should go to Pepper. Marketing was all her and she’s a genius at it,” Tony says.

Peter nods because he followed up on the marketing for it. He’s written a few commercials, he knows how difficult it is to run a good marketing campaign when people fucking hate commercials. “You should keep her around forever. She’s way too good a resource to lose when your commercials don’t fucking suck ass,” he says.

Tony snorts, “you don’t have to tell me twice. Pepper is invaluable.”

Maybe he should hire her to run his marketing campaigns. He pretty much hates everyone he has now and in this industry you’re subject to be fired at any moment so he should fire them all and poach Pepper.

Tony walks over to Peter and throws himself down beside him, “smile for me,” he says, leaning into Peter’s space and grinning. He snaps a picture of a mostly confused looking Peter and posts it to his Twitter.

“So like. Are you two a thing? Because I don’t know anymore,” Drax says.

“They aren’t,” Mantis tells him. “But its a good method of attaching Peter’s movie to something.”

Drax frowns at her but says nothing. Tony raises an eyebrow and Peter shrugs, “Mantis is never wrong about stuff like that. She’s like... freakishly good at reading people.”

“Oh you’ll end up together but you’re not together now,” she tells them, not looking up from her tablet. “And Peter, please make sure the boom is not in the shots. I’m tired of editing them out.”

“I thought Rocket did the editing?” Tony asks.

“No, Rocket gets the credit,” Mantis says. “I’m kidding. Mostly. I help.”

“Meaning she’s the only thing that keeps Rocket from spontaneously combusting. She’s almost as good with editing tech as she is with emotions and Rocket needs someone to balance him out.” Yeah, Tony has met Rocket. Guy is wound a little tight and inseparable from that friend of his, Groot. Poor bastard probably has the worst name known to man, Rocket following shortly after. Shit, Mantis isn’t far out from that either.

“Huh. Make my ass look good,” he tells her and Drax’s eyebrows draw together.

“Your ass doesn’t need help to look good,” he says.

“Hey eyeballs off his ass,” he says like he has a right to complain. Everyone currently at the table gives him the same look because he’s a total hypocrite. “What? I told Nebula to feel up his ass with the camera, I didn’t feel up shit,” he points out. “My eyeballs were focused on that one fucky light.”

Tony snorts, “yeah, okay.”

“Don’t look at me like that, its true,” he says. “I maintain that until I’ve felt up Tony’s ass no one can give me the looks you’re all giving me.”

“I mean, if that willing,” Tony tells him and the look on Peter’s face is hilarious.

“Are you willing? Because I may actually have dreams about this.”

Drax shakes his head, throwing his fork at his food. “And people say I need to learn how to be less blunt. At least I’m not ruining people’s meals with admissions to sex dreams,” he mumbles, picking himself up and walking away.

Rhodey looks down at the article in his lap. “Is there truth to any of this?” he asks and Pepper looks up, leaning out of her desk to see what he’s reading before sighing. She doesn’t even need to speak for him to know what’s going on.

“You know how Tony is, he’ll get bored of Peter once they aren’t spending as much time together. Its a fling,” she tells him.

Which is why, three months later, Rhodey is annoyed to be standing in front of Peter fucking Quill, guy who is absolutely not good enough for his best friend. Tony looks hopeful, like he thinks Rhodey will like this pasty ass cornfed fucker when that’s so not going to happen.

“Let me be clear- I don’t like you. You look like someone stuffed you with some low quality hay, shoved a stick up your ass, and stuck you in a cornfield in Missouri until you managed to come to life, pulled that stick out of your ass, and walked onto a movie set. You’re not good enough for Tony and there is nothing on God’s green earth that will convince me otherwise,” he tells Peter.

“Well, I am from Missouri,” he mumbles.

“Yeah you look like you’re from Missouri,” Rhodey tells him, tone disparaging.

Tony sighs. “Rhodey, he’s great. Really.”

Rhodey squints, “have you watched this man’s movies? He couldn’t write himself out of a paper bag if it was made out of some damn ad libs,” he says and Peter clenches his jaw.

“I’m real upset that you’re coming up with better insults than me,” Peter tells him.

“Rhodey,” Tony tells him. “He’s actually awesome. Give him a break.”

He looks Peter over. “Give him a break? The only thing that needs to be broken here is this ugly ass relationship. Go date Pepper, she’s perfect for you,” he tells him. That is the only person he will accept because Pepper is amazing and treats Tony right. And he’s good for her too, they balance each other out. This shit he’s got going with Knockoff Chris Pratt? Not attractive.

Across the room Pepper looks vindicated.

#fanfiction #starquill #tony x peter quill #alternate universe

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billyharris · 6 years

Text

☾ In Your Room ☽

So ever time I see the sewer scene and I hear the line “Do you ever use the same bathroom as your mom ??” I always think about Eddie having an en suite bathroom. Thus comes the idea of ✧ Reddie Baths ✧ !! And with that in mind, this fic was born. Oops !! Sue me !!

Words ;; 2,200 ･ﾟ Pairing ;; Richie Tozier / Eddie Kaspbrak ･ﾟ Warnings ;; Blood, Bruises, Strong Language, two eighteen year old boys bathing together and being in love.

❝ — Eddie was reading the same textbook page for about the fourth time when he heard the noises of pebbles hitting his window. His mind went straight to his boyfriend. Richie snuck into the smaller boy’s bedroom plenty of times a week. But something was off. He never really asked for permission. The trashmouth would just climb the side of the Kaspbrak house and barrel his way through the window. Before Eddie could even complain about their spur of the moment date, Richie was already snuggling next to him, quieting the boy with tired, breathy kisses.

So maybe it wasn’t Richie ?? Maybe Bill or Bev ?? But even that didn’t make sense. All the losers went along with Richie and just sort of treated Eddie’s bedroom like their own; all climbing through the window without asking either. Richie said it was Eddie’s fault. His house was so easy to climb and Eddie never locked the window. He huffed, shutting his book and made his way to the window, pushing the two sides open to see Richie curled over with a pebble in his hand. It was dark and raining, but Ed could see something was wrong right away. Just the fact that he wasn’t already next to him in the bed was enough reason for Eddie to begin panicking.

He quietly snuck past his mom’s bedroom and practically sprinted down the steps, through the kitchen and then into the front yard. He got to Richie and nearly passed out when he got a good look at him. His eye was black and blue and his lip was split open, blood dripping down his chin and on to the grass. “Richie - What the hell happened to you ??”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist - Eds - I’m all good.” He whined, grabbing at his right side. He looked like utter shit, but he was still smiling. Richie was always like this. Putting others before him. It was the main reason Eddie fell in love with the boy. “You should see Bowers - he’s in way worse shape.” A total lie. Eddie knew that, but he nodded along like it was true.

“Fucking bowers did this to you. - I’m going to kill him !!”

“Eds - Eds - Stop. Really. I’m all good. I just needed to see you...Okay?” His glasses were shattered in one eye, as if they were stepped on. The white thrift store T-shirt Richie was wearing started seeping red and Eddie couldn’t help but let the tears begin to fall.

“Ri-Richie we should clean you up, okay ??” Eddie didn’t let Richie answer. He grabbed his boyfriend by the jacket and dragged him upstairs, attempting to not wake Sonia. He was lucky to have his own bathroom were they could have their privacy.

Richie tore off some his layers and sat up on the sink as Eddie began to run the bath. He watched in awe, unsure how he could be so lucky to have the most lovable and caring boyfriend in the world. They would do anything for one another. The truth was that while walking home from a hot-boxing session with Bev, Richie ran into the bowers gang. They jumped him and Richie was pretty lucky to be alive being that the fight was uneven four to one. They called him slurs and pinned him to a fence, each taking turns kicking and beating his face in. All for apparently ‘gaying up the neighborhood.’ Richie and Eddie knew going public with their relationship would ‘cause backlash like this, but after years of hiding their love in the closet, they were fed up. Now proud and out, they hold hands in the hallway and even went to the winter formal together. It didn’t matter that the whole school stared and snickered behind their backs. They had each other and the losers. They didn’t need anyone else. And as Eddie filled the water with sweet smelling soap and some pink liquid, taking his spare hand to wipe stray tears away every once in a while - Richie knew he was with the one. The love of his life.

Eddie turned off the faucet and one last time tested the water’s temperature, before turning around to face Richie. “Okay - let me see the damage.”

“Eds - this is great - really. But I can take it from here. You should go get some rest. I’ll join you a little later...” He jumped off the sink and winced, gritting his teeth. The truth was that the two teenagers had been dating for about six months now and hadn’t fully explored the sexual nature of their relationship just yet. They made out plenty and spooned every night Richie visited. But that was pretty much it. Seeing one another naked and going past second base hadn’t come up yet. And this moment wasn’t exactly the most romantic way of taking that next step.

“If you don’t think I’m going to stay and take care of you, Tozier - You must really be dumb -”

“Eds -” Richie pleaded.

“Don’t call me that. You know I hate it. Just strip and let’s get you feeling better, okay asshole ??” Eddie snapped sternly. Crossing his arms over his chest and slightly stomping his foot. Damn he was adorable when he was trying to be tough.

“Alright - okay. You asked for this.” Richie with shaky hands began pulling up on the blood covered shirt. The fabric fell to the floor and Richie pulled his pants down with his boxers. He was left just sort of standing there butt naked - dick out for the world to see. If he wasn’t Richie Tozier - he probably would be self-conscious. Eddie didn’t really shy away from ogling. Caught red handed taking in an eye full. “Damn, Eddie. If you wanted to get me naked - all you had to do was ask...”

Eddie rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe that Richie was just being his usual dipshit self in a moment like this. “Just get into the tub, asshole.” His whole torso was a galaxy of purple and blue stains. And in many spots, the skin was broken, blood forming lines that cascaded down to the floor. Both of his knees were scraped - matching the small scrapes on his hands. He must’ve been pushed to the ground. But he fought back. That was clear by the bruised knuckles. Eddie moved over and looked up at the much taller boy, his eyes gleaming as pulled on Richie’s hand and gave the torn up skin a kiss. He had to remain strong - but seeing Richie like this - not just naked, but bloodied and beaten like this was tearing up Eddie’s insides. He wanted to curl up and never let go of his beautiful boyfriend ever again.

Richie smiled and moved to step into the bath. His eyes squinted as he made his way into the water, but he eventually settled. “So - are you going to join me, Eds ??” He winked, as if the bath water wasn’t shifting from pink to red beneath him.

“Perv - This is about cleaning you up.” Eddie said, complying and beginning to tear off his sopping wet clothes. He hated baths. You were just sitting in your own germs. He didn’t understand the point. But for Richie - he would do anything. Even get into a bloodied pool. Once he was naked, he shimmied into the tub, the boys limbs crossing over one another under the water.

“Fuck -” Richie huffed. He was transfixed on Eddie. But Ed just tilted his head like a confused dog. “You’re so fucking beautiful - Eds.” His cheeks flared up and he quickly hid his face in his hands. But then he felt Richie’s fingers on his thighs and a straight up yelp left the smaller boy’s mouth.

“Hey - we’re cleaning you - that’s it...” He attempted to once again stand his ground, but halfway through his sentence, Richie grabbed his legs and his voice totally cracked. He was weak to his boyfriend. That was for sure.

“Fine...” Richie huffed, disappointment clear in his voice. How he was able to be so open in a moment like this was beside Eddie. But then again - most of the things Rich did - Ed had no way of explaining. Eddie moved up - as if them getting any closer was even possible - and began wiping down Richie’s chest. Every once in a while, he would wring the cloth out into a bucket next to the tub and then get right back into washing all the marks on Richie’s body. Rich was determined to ruin the whole process. Because he was dragging his fingers up and down Eddie’s arms as he worked and every time Eddie leaned in, Richie would meet him and lay kisses along his jawline. Both were way too preoccupied with the fight to get fully turned on - so the moments of touching were purely laced with affection and love instead of lust. Still didn’t change the fact that each time Eddie felt Richie kiss him - his heart skipped a beat. At this rate, he would have a heart attack before either of them were fully clean.

Next after all the wounds were dis-infected; Eddie moved onto shampooing the boy’s curls. Eddie only had dandruff shampoo that reeked of chemicals. Eddie wasn’t even prone to dandruff. But Sonia insisted using Selsum blue was the best way to prevent flaking. He squeezed a large amount of the liquid into his hand and rubbed them together before laying his arms on Richie’s shoulders and beginning to lather up his large mop of hair. As his fingers intertwined with the black lochs, the boy began humming. Those hums turned to moans at some point and Eddie began studying the other boy. Eddie didn’t think to play with the boy’s hair when they were making out before. But after hearing the sounds Richie was making with each tug and catching an eye of Richie’s arousal under the water - he knew he needed to add this to his bag of tricks. This would, in fact, would be the only trick he had. But damn if this instance was any evidence - Eddie was unsure if he would ever need any more.

Once they were down, fully rinsed off, and Eddie germ-free approved, the boys climbed out of the tub and Ed began bandaging up Richie’s wounds. “So - spring formal is coming up...” Richie said with gritted teeth as Eddie applied pressure to his ribcage.

Eddie stopped frozen and looked up to the much taller boy. “I know what you’re going to say. We shouldn’t go together. It will be safer that way...I was thinking that too”

“What ?! Eds no !! You couldn’t be more wrong !!” Richie pushed Eddie back slightly and grabbed the boy’s cheeks.

Eddie looked away. “Look at you, Rich. You’re half purple and you clearly have a two or more broken ribs. We can’t just -”

“No stop.” Richie cut him off. “If you gave me the option to dance to cheesy music in a crowded gym with you or succumb to that homophobic piece of shit Bowers. You can count on me to fucking boogie the night away - with cracked ribs and all -” Richie squeezed Eddie’s jaw and leaned down for a quick kiss. “- Hear me ??”

Eddie nodded as best he could with Richie holding onto him. “Okay...But If I see Bowers so much as lay a finger on you again - I’m going to - I’m going to make him wish he was never born and you can’t stop me !!” Richie fully believed the boy. He might be a full foot shorter than him - but Eddie was tougher than all the losers combined. All his rage was bottled so tightly - that it was practically deadly when it was let out.

❝ —Eddie and Richie stood by their words. They didn’t let the Bowers gang scare them off. They went to the formal together and slow-danced the night away. Apparently Eddie shot Henry and his goons a dirty look that striked so much fear into them that they didn’t dare bother Richie or any of the losers again.

Another good thing that came out of that night was Richie and Eddie adopted a new bath policy. Sometimes when Richie snuck in through Eddie’s window - they would make their way to Eddie’s bathroom and take long baths. Eddie would buy different salts and bubble bars - looking forward to the time they spent rubbing each other under the hot water. Richie still tried to turn things sexual. Every. Damn. Time. Eddie was proud of himself that it only worked like half the time. It was hard to say no, really. Any time Eddie got to be with Richie, he was at his happiest. Even if the trashmouth was using that time to tease the fuck out of him. Either way - they were together. And that’s all Eddie cared about.

Then they get married, adopt ten dogs, never explain what a bath is to Stan and live happily ever after. ❤ The End ❤

#reddie au #reddie #reddie fic #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie ficlet #tw blood #tw brusies #[ F ]

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javid-cuddles-and-kisses · 7 years

Note

Could you do 76 for the javid prompts? 💕

This one was really fun to write. So I took it to the extreme of doing another really long fic.

Constant Pining is a Constant Annoyance

Davey regretted agreeing to play hide-and-seek with his friends.It wasn’t that Davey didn’t like playing the game at Kath’s house(when her father was gone). It was that they always insisted on partnering up to hide, making it extremely hard to find a good hiding spot. Of course this wasn’t the only reason. Maybe it was that, no matter what, his partner was always Jack.

Always.

Sure Jack was his crush best friend and he was good at finding a good hiding spot, but Jack was so oblivious to the fact that all of their friends tried to get them stuck together long enough to confess their undying love for each other and make out. When Davey asked Sarah why they did this, she said that their ‘constant pining was a constant annoyance’.

Davey was pretty much convinced that all of his friends were idiots, since Davey never pined over Jack Kelly or over anyone else frankly, no matter what Sarah or any of his friends insisted. He couldn’t even say that Jack pined over him or even flirted with him. Sure Jack could sometimes be a little bit intimate with him. Davey did always find himself with Jack’s arm casually thrown around his shoulder or Jack sitting too close to him on the couch- it was something he did with all of his friends.

Jack was straight, anyways, he couldn’t be into Davey like that, anyways.

Sure, Davey was slightly attracted to Jack- but only slightly. Only ever slightly. He wouldn’t let himself fall for his best friend. That was one thing he was for sure of. Maybe, Davey’s heart did flutter a little bit when Jack walked into the room or smiled at him, but that happened to everyone, right?

But no matter Davey’s slight attraction to his best friend, he would never give Spot, Race, or Crutchie the satisfaction of being right, especially not about this.So when, in the unlikely event that, Jack and Davey decide to hide in a closet, with no lights(or at least lights they could find), that was just the right size for the both of them, Race, Spot, Romeo, and Crutchie discover their hiding place, Davey wasn’t the happiest camper.

Davey, of course, knew that they shouldn’t have hid in the closet, but it was a last resort. Kath and Sarah had stolen their hiding spot, Spot and Race were almost done counting, so they had to hide somewhere fast, and if the king of Brooklyn and his boyfriend found them out in the open, they would never hear the end of it. So Davey spent at least the next few minutes pressed against Jack, trying to remain as quiet as humanly possible.

Then they heard it.

“Found ya!” He felt Jack’s arm tense up against his. Spot and Race had just found someone in the room.

“Dammit, Romeo. I told you we shouldn’t have hid here.” Crutchie, most likely, said.

“It looked good at the time.”

“Whatever, we found you, now, so do you know where Jack and Davey hid?” Davey glanced at Jack, who was biting his lip, while staring through the door. He so badly wanted to kiss Jack, but fought the temptation. Jack wouldn’t appreciate that.

“No, Race, you can’t ask them that. That would be cheating.”

“Well, hypothetically speaking… we may or may not have seen them go in that closet.” Romeo said, swiftly. “Only hypothetically, of course”

“And hypothetically speaking… we could stop the constant pining between the two if we locked them in there together.”

“You guys know that they would be able to hear you, if they were in that closet, right?”

“Well, I can go and check.”

Shit. This couldn’t be happening. Even with no light he could see the faint outline of a key hole below the door handle. They would lock them in here until what? Davey and Jack got together. That wouldn’t be happening.

The door opened, Race’s head emerging and disappearing for a split second, with the light that spilled in from the other room. The door slammed shut and was locked with a Click!.

“They’re in there.”

“And you just locked them in?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, let’s at least tell them why they’re locked in there together.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, Jack, Davey. You aren’t going to come out of that closet, until you both confess your love for the other. We’ll come back and check on you in thirty or so minutes. If you haven’t sorted things out by then, we’ll leave you in there for another thirty minutes.” Spot shouted, through the door.

Davey stood up, trying to push against the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“I think we’re stuck.” Davey said.

“I know.” He sat down next to Jack, who wasn’t normally this quiet.

“Something wrong?”

“No just thinking.”

Davey nodded, leaving the other boy to his thoughts. This was going to be a long thirty minutes. He himself was pretty certain, that when Spot, Race, Crutchie, and Romeo came back to get Jack and Davey, he would have some words for them. So instead of letting Jack and Davey out of the closet like normal human beings would do, they decided to lock the door. Classic.

“Do you think that they’ll really keep us in here if we don’t get together?” Jack asked, interrupting Davey’s thoughts.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they did.”

“Wouldn’t Sarah and Kath stop them?”

Davey snorted. Sarah and Kath had expressed many times that both tired of their nonexistent ‘pining’. “No, Sarah’s convinced we’re in love.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She and Kath probably orchestrated this whole thing together.” Davey said and then added, “I mean sure I’m gay, but none of them seem to understand that you’re not.”

“Well…” Jack admitted, pushing himself up so he could sit more comfortably. I am a little bit gay.”

“What?” Davey asked, turning to Jack. He was almost positive he was losing his hearing, because if he heard Jack correctly - no way could he have heard Jack say that.

”Did you think I was straight this entire time?” Jack raised his eye brow at him, dead serious.

“Yeah.”

“No. Never have been. Never will be.”

“But you’ve dated girls before.” Davey protested. For some reason, he couldn’t believe that Jack was attracted to men. Maybe it’s because I’m hoping he’s secretly attracted that to me Davey thought.

“I’m bi, Davey. Wasn’t that obvious?”

“You never came out, though.”

“Yeah, I figured everybody knew by now, especially you. Every single day, I flirted with…”

“With who?” Davey asked, curiously. He recollected his memory, but couldn’t think of any instances where he saw Jack flirt with some guy, everyday.

“No one, Davey. Doesn’t matter.” Jack said, standing up. He looked anywhere, but at Davey.

“Well, if it doesn’t matter, why don’t you tell me?” Davey questioned. He was genuinely curious, now. Who could Jack like?

“Dave, I-”

“Jackie, just tell me. I’m your best friend.”

“Fine, as long as you promise not to judge me.” Jack said, looking down at Davey.

“I promise.”

“Okay. Could you uhm- just turn around, while I tell you? I don’t think I can tell you, if you’re looking at me.” Jack asked, nervously.

“Sure, Jack.” Davey tried to turn around to face the wall, but had to stand up. There just wasn’t enough room in the closet.

“Well, Davey I- I- uh….” Jack muttered, stumbling on his words.

“Jack, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Davey said, trying to reassure his friend.

“No, no. Dave, I want to. It’s just… I’ve got to get this off my chest now or I doubt I ever will.”

“Okay, just take your time.”

“Okay…. I- uh… I was- well… I was talking about you earlier.”

Davey felt his mouth go dry and his heart pound just a bit faster. His heart practically screaming at him to turn around and kiss Jack, while his brain ordered him to stay there, silently and think for. Whatever he did next he couldn’t take back. He needed to be certain. He needed to think.

But just the idea made his head spin. Jack Kelly? Attracted to him? No way. Jack had to be joking, right? Davey wanted to believe he would have noticed the-not-so-subtle Jack Kelly flirting with him or was he just that oblivious? Maybe Sarah and them had been right. Maybe there was some tension between the two that needed to be resolved.

“Wait, you mean you’re attracted me?” Davey asked, wanting to make sure he wasn’t going crazy.

“Yeah, Davey I am. I mean, I really sort of love you.”

“Oh…” Davey gasped. He needed some time to fully process the new information he was given.

Jack Kelly loved him. Jack Kelly was not only attracted to him, but loved him also. He wasn’t sure what to think. Sure he was attracted to Jack, but when it came down to it, did Davey love him? Had Davey not been honest with even himself? It was the secret everyone knew, except for the two people who deserved to hear it the most.

“Yeah…” Jack said awkwardly, interrupting Davey’s thoughts. “I- uh- if you don’t want to be friends with me anymore, I under-”

“Jack, what the hell are you talking about? Of course, I still want to be your friend.” Davey said, without hesitation. That was one thing his head and heart could agree upon. Jack Kelly would always be his friend, romantic feelings or not.

“Oh…”

“Jack, is it fine if I turn around now?” Davey asked, almost certain.

“Sure.”

He turned to see Jack with tears running silently from his eyes. Jack tried to look anywhere but at him. Before he could stop himself, Davey wrapped his arms around the smaller boy.

”Jack, I love you.” Davey said with absolute certainty. Jack grabbed onto him, wrapping his arms around Davey’s back and burying his face into the crook of Davey’s neck. Davey kissed the top of Jack’s head, rubbing Jack’s back.

”Thank you.” Jack whispered, making Davey’s neck tickle.

”You don’t need to say thank you.”

”I was just so afraid, you wouldn’t even want to be my friend anymore.” Jack mumbled, “I thought there was not even one chance that you would like me.”

”I didn’t think you would like me either. It just took me forever to process what you said.” Davey and Jack both laughed.

Jack came out from Davey’s neck, his tears gone. He was staring right into Davey’s eyes. “Would you mind if I kissed you, Dave?”

”Would be an honor.” Davey smiled as Jack brought his hands to caress his cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jack said, as he pecked Davey’s lips.

“That’s it?” Davey asked, “You’ve got to give me a real kiss.”

“Oh fine,” Jack agreed, laughing a bit. He brought Davey’s face down to his lips, and kissed him, then pulled back for another second.

“I guess constant pining is a constant annoyance, but it does have a pay off.”

”Just shut up and kiss me.” Davey said, giggling.

“Mmmhmmm.” Jack hummed as he kissed Davey, finally.

This time a proper kiss. Davey grinned into the kiss, running his hands through Jack’s hair. The world could have ended in that moment and he would have cared less. The asteroid, that would cause the next mass extinction could have hit earth, he still would have been content. Davey would have died a happy man.

“Finally, you two worked things out.”

Davey pulled away from Jack, once he heard the door open. He turned to see Spot and Race, peering into the closet as the light flooded in.“Uhhh…” Jack mumbled, awkwardly.

“Do you think you could give us a few more minutes?” Davey asked. Spot closed the door, rolling his eyes. Jack laughed, reaching up to kiss Davey, who happily complied.

#javid fanfiction #my fics #davey jacobs/jack kelley #Jack Kelly #Davey Jacobs #Javid #newsies #Spot Conlon #Sarah Jacobs #Romeo(newsies)#Crutchie #racetrack higgins #katherine plumber #newsbians (implied)#sprace(mentioned)

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polarisventuresnz · 5 years

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Theresa Wiseman, a nursing scholar in the UK, studied empathy across every profession that requires deep connection and relationship, and she identified four attributes of empathy. These attributes fully aligned with what emerged from my data, but they did not address the idea of “paying attention” to the degree that it emerged in my work. To solve for that, I added a fifth attribute from Kristin Neff’s research. Dr. Neff is a self-compassion researcher at the University of Texas at Austin—we’ll look at more of her work in a bit. While each of these components is rich for study—you’ll find hundreds of books in any research library on every one of the five—we’re going to explore how these elements come together to create empathy, the rocket fuel for building trust and increasing connection.

Empathy Skill #1: To see the world as others see it, or perspective taking We see the world through a set of unique lenses that bring together who we are, where we come from, and our vast experiences. Our lenses certainly include factors like age, race, ethnicity, ability, and spiritual beliefs, but we also have other lenses that shape how we see the world, including our knowledge, insights, and experience. Our take on the world is completely unique because our point of view is a product of our history and experiences. This is why ten people can witness the same incident and have ten different perspectives on what happened, how it happened, and why it happened.

Are there any observable, knowable, universal truths? Of course. Math and science have given us many examples. But when it comes to the swirl of human emotion, behavior, language, and cognition—there are many valid perspectives. One of the signature mistakes with empathy is that we believe we can take our lenses off and look through the lenses of someone else. We can’t. Our lenses are soldered to who we are. What we can do, however, is honor people’s perspectives as truth even when they’re different from ours. That’s a challenge if you were raised in majority culture— white, straight, male, middle-class, Christian—and you were likely taught that your perspective is the correct perspective and everyone else needs to adjust their lens. Or, more accurately, you weren’t taught anything about perspective taking, and the default—My truth is the truth—is reinforced by every system and situation you encounter. Children are very receptive to learning perspective-taking skills because they’re naturally curious about the world and how others operate in it. Those of us who were taught perspective-taking skills as children owe our parents a huge debt of gratitude. Those of us who were not introduced to that skill set when we were younger will have to work harder and fight armoring up in order to acquire it as adults. Perspective taking requires becoming the learner, not the knower. Let’s say that I’m talking to a colleague on my team who is twenty-five, African American, gay, and grew up in an affluent neighborhood in Chicago. In our conversation we realize that we have completely different opinions about a new program we want to develop. As we’re debating the issues, he says, “My experiences lead me to believe this approach will fall flat with the people we want to reach.” I can’t put down my straight, white, middle-aged, female lens and just snap on his lens to see what he sees, but I can ask, “Tell me more—what are you thinking?” and respect his truth as a full truth, not just an off version of my truth. This is exactly why every study we see confirms the positive correlation between inclusivity, innovation, and performance. Again, it’s only when diverse perspectives are included, respected, and valued that we can start to get a full picture of the world, who we serve, what they need, and how to successfully meet people where they are. I love what Beyoncé said in her first-person essay in the September 2018 issue of Vogue: If people in powerful positions continue to hire and cast only people who look like them, sound like them, come from the same neighborhoods they grew up in, they will never have a greater understanding of experiences different from their own. They will hire the same models, curate the same art, cast the same actors over and over again, and we will all lose. The beauty of social media is it’s completely democratic. Everyone has a say. Everyone’s voice counts, and everyone has a chance to paint the world from their own perspective. She was photographed for the magazine cover by Tyler Mitchell, making him the first African American photographer to shoot the cover of Vogue in its 126-year history. As we push on these issues and discover our own blind spots (we all have them), we need to stay very aware of the armor assembly process here: We cannot practice empathy if we need to be knowers; if we can’t be learners, we cannot be empathic. And, to be clear (and kind), if we need to be knowers, empathy isn’t the only loss. Because curiosity is the key to rumbling with vulnerability, knowers struggle with all four of the building blocks of courage. Empathy Skill #2: To be nonjudgmental It is not easy to do this when you enjoy judging as much as most of us do. Based on research, there are two ways to predict when we are going to judge: We judge in areas where we’re most susceptible to shame, and we judge people who are doing worse than we are in those areas. So if you find yourself feeling incredibly judgmental about appearance, and you can’t figure out why, that’s a clue that it’s a hard issue for you. It’s important to examine where we feel judgment because it can quickly become a vicious shame cycle. The judgment of others leaves us feeling shame, so we offload the hurt by judging others. I see this happen often in organizations. Shit rolls downhill and ends up in the consumer’s lap. I’ve yet to come across a company that has both a shaming, judgmental culture and wonderful customer service. Staying out of judgment means being aware of where we are the most vulnerable to our own shame, our own struggle. The good news is that we don’t judge in areas where we feel a strong sense of self-worth and grounded confidence, so the more of that we build, the more we let go of judgment.

Empathy Skill #3: To understand another person’s feelings Empathy Skill #4: To communicate your understanding of that person’s feelings I’m combining these two attributes because, when we break them down to skills, they’re inextricably connected. Understanding emotions in others and communicating our understanding of these emotions require us to be in touch with our own feelings. Ideally, it also means that we are fluent in the language of feelings, or, at the very least, conversational and somewhat comfortable in the world of emotions. The vast majority of people I’ve interviewed are not comfortable in the world of emotions and nowhere close to fluent in the language of feelings. Emotional literacy, in my opinion, is as critical as having language. When we can’t name and articulate what’s happening to us emotionally, we cannot move through it. Imagine going to the doctor with an excruciating pain in your right shoulder, a pain so great that every time you feel it you’re left breathless and doubled over. But when you arrive at the doctor’s office, you have duct tape over your mouth and your hands are tied behind your back. The doctor is anxious to help you, but when she asks you what happened, you can only manage “Mmph. Mmph” through your tape. You’re desperate to explain, but you’re unable to speak, so you can’t name it, you can’t articulate it, you can’t describe it. The doctor asks you to point to it, but your hands are tied, and all you can do is jump up and down with your eyes darting to the right. You mumble and jump until both you and the doctor are exhausted and give up. This is exactly what happens when we aren’t fluent in feelings. It’s almost impossible to process emotion when we can’t identify, name, and talk about our experiences. And if that’s not enough of a reason to dig in and start learning, emotional literacy is also a prerequisite for empathy, shame resilience, and the ability to reset and rise after a fall. For example, how do we get back on our feet after a fall if we can’t recognize the subtle but important differences between disappointment and anger, between shame and guilt, between fear and grief? And if we can’t recognize these emotions in ourselves, it’s almost impossible to do so with others. We’re finishing a study right now on emotional literacy, and I’ll give you the movie trailer. Cue the music and pretend this is the dramatic announcer voice: In a world of emotional literacy, we would be able to recognize and name between thirty and forty emotions in ourselves and others. I’m hedging on the number because we’re in the final stages of confirming the exact emotions, but it’s safe to say that fluency in emotional conversation means being able to name at least thirty of them. The last attribute, communicating our understanding of the emotions, can feel like the biggest risk because we can get it wrong. And not if but when we are off base, we need the courage to circle back. In fact, as long as we show up with our whole hearts, pay attention, and stay curious, we can course-correct. This is why therapists are frequently stereotyped as saying “What I hear you saying is…” It’s a check-in that allows someone to say, “Nope. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m not sad. I’m pissed off.” For example, in non-therapisty language, you could say: “I’m sorry about the project assignment. That sucks and must be so frustrating. Want to talk about it?” This question tells your colleague that you’re willing to “go there” and rumble openly about what they’re feeling. Because you were willing to put emotion on the table, it gives them the opportunity to come back and say, “I don’t know about frustrated. I think I’m actually really embarrassed and disappointed. I mean, everyone talked about me being the perfect person for it. I never imagined not getting it. Now I have to explain why I didn’t get it and I don’t even understand.” This exchange alone builds the connection and alignment that we need to have a meaningful, trust-building, and even healing conversation.

Empathy Skill #5: Mindfulness I borrowed the fifth element, mindfulness, from Kristin Neff. Neff describes mindfulness as “taking a balanced approach to negative emotions so that feelings are neither suppressed nor exaggerated….We cannot ignore our pain and feel compassion for it at the same time….Mindfulness requires that we not be ‘over-identified’ with thoughts and feelings, so that we are caught up and swept away by negative reactivity.” The word mindfulness can get on my nerves sometimes, so I opt for paying attention. Neff’s findings on mindfulness, especially the piece on not overidentifying with or exaggerating our feelings, are completely aligned with what we found in our work. Ruminating and getting stuck is as unhelpful as not noticing at all. In short, I try to practice mindfulness by paying attention to what’s happening in these conversations, to the feelings they’re bringing up in me, to my body language, and to the body language of the person I’m talking to. Minimizing and exaggerating emotions lead to empathic misses in equal measure.

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aleksander0086-blog · 6 years

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In/Destructable.

Friends come and they will go. I gotta be careful for whom I call my 'friends', though. I have major trust issues, I can't bond easily, and like I explained in my preview post, I am not a great communicator. Well, there is one friend I had, one friend I thought I could trust and would be there until forever, really. His name was Kaiden. I met Kaiden when I was 17 years old - he was 4 years younger than me. He was an exchange student living in my house, back in the time when I lived in The Netherlands with my family. Kaiden was from Florida, lived in poverty, and also had a lot of problems at home, such as abuse, neglect, and bullying in school. He lived with us for an entire school year, I think about 9 or 10 months or so. He was 4 years younger than me, but he became like a brother to me. Even though it took me some time to fully loosen up, at first I bullied him a lot, made fun of him because he looked like an emo and I used to hate Americans. But I found out he was a really special fella. Even when our lives continued when he went back to the States, and I continued to live my life in The Netherlands, we kept in touch, virtually. There was something I always liked about him - his energy, his depth, his patience, his understanding. He wasn't afraid to speak his mind or disagree with me, and I appreciated that. People can be so damn fake. ..But he wasn't. Even when we were a few years older, in our 20's, I often went to visit him in the States, a couple of times a year. We were going out on roadtrips, all kinds of adventures, or we just hung out in his apartment a lot, watching movies, like something you'd expect from a real friendship. I never had a friendship like that, where I would actually do fun activities. In other friendships of mine, we just used drugs and hung out on the streets, act trashy, talking about murder, feeling useless. But the friendship I had with Kaiden really had some real depth, we could talk for hours all night, and he made me believe it is no shame to talk about my inner feelings and emotions. By that time, I had never met a single person I felt comfortable enough to talk about my inner feelings. And to me, it felt like a piece of freedom, and he gave me that like some kind of gift. Really, if it wasn't for him, I would still be a numb asshole with my feelings all bottled up.

When I moved to New York when I was 25, I often went to visit Kaiden in Michigan. There were huge gaps, though, and I realized that every time we saw each other again. I had my problems with drinking, using drugs, the errors inside my head. But he, Kaiden, was struggling with bipolar disorder, as he knew since the age of 15. He just did a perfect job by hiding the whole thing. But I could see whenever he was going through a difficult time. He used to be straight edge - no drinking, no drugs, not even smoking cigarettes. But ever since he got back from L.A, his life got a little twisted. He always had high expectations and big dreams, as he wanted to make it in L.A., but I saw the city of angels changed him. He came back as a different person, very odd. It just wasn't him. He opened up about the fact he was sexually abused by his manager, that he met the wrong people there, and he definitely started drinking a lot. He was forced to use drugs. Once he came back to Michigan, I think it triggered his mental health and it took the wrong turn. Everything he did was limitless. The typical symptoms of bipolar disorder, those were clear to see. Very extreme mood swings. There were times when I moved in with him, but every time I stayed with him for awhile, the better I got to know him. It wasn't really pretty. He was either extremely happy or a really mean bitch. Kaiden, he also developed this huge identity crisis with himself - he was not sure about his sexual orientation and identity. He was struggling with it. I tried to help him, even though I, myself, used to be a little bit homophobic back in the days. He was my friend, and I knew he was struggling with it. I just wanted us to have fun again like we used to have. I came to find out we had a difficult time dosing our attention to each other, since we both have our problems. Except Kaiden clearly needed the attention, he kinda almost begged for it, he was loud. And me, I tried hiding it, but the people who knew me best could easily uncover my pain. Like the extrovert and the introvert. It was either Kaiden going through a difficult period, and me having to take care of him, or the other way around. We were there for eachother, always. I suppose it made our friendship a very strong, hectic one too, because of that. The thing is, there was always drama going on in our lives, and we were both very involved in the situation. And things got even harder as the years were passing by.

The more we were together the unhealthier our friendship became. Over the last 5 years we did nothing but using drugs, annoy each other with the fact that we were junkies, fighting, throwing things at each other, beat each other up. But then there were good times coming again. And so we did fun things again. Then we started fighting again. But both of us were so damn drugged up. I was on heroin all the time, I would stay in the other room, alone in the dark, painting. Or lying on the bathroom floor listening to nice classic rock music. I mind my own business, that's just how heroin works. I wanted to be alone. But Kaiden wasn't on heroin, coke was his thing. It made him very different person, very high energy, always looking for a reason to fight. He would slam the fucking door while I was tripping in the bathroom, yelling at me "Let's go to the sea and put our clothes off! Right now! Come with me!", almost dragging me outside. But my mind couldn't process that very quickly when on heroin. His voice was echoing through my mind. I remember nights, when he was all hyped under influence of coke, and I was nodding next to him in the backseat of the car, far away from reality, no idea where I was and what we were doing. He carried me around like a puppet, but we were always together. Kaiden would fight literally anyone on cocaine. And whenever I looked at him, I just thought to myself "damn, this is not you, what the fuck". We turned out to be monsters, we created the worst versions of ourselves.

Anyway, when Kaiden came out as gay, or pansexual, or both, whatever - I still have no idea, but he clearly fell for men - he got involved in the gay scene, and he turned into some kind of sex maniac. He had a devoted boyfriend for awhile, Joone, whom he met in Finland while we were on vacation there, but then he cheated and started fucking the entire city of Toronto. He was the notorious crack whore of Toronto city, and he was happy to be so. He started to become careless, just like me, and you got drugs to blame for that. Cocaine turned him in the opposite of person he used to was, the person I used to like so much. That was all gone at some point. He disgusted me with his lifestyle. I didn't want to visit him anymore because even in the morning, the room smelled like sex and crack, there were naked guys lying on the carpet. And I don't have problems with the gay scene, not anymore, I have experimented this and that myself as well, but his life was just awfully disgusting. For real. I took my distance, continued my life as an introvert junkie in New York City, but Kaiden kept falling back to me. He'd call me and tell me he feels extremely sorry, crying and everything. And I swallowed those cries for help, for many many times. But Kaiden started working at a sex club for gays, it made him rich. He got paid for sex, and it seemed like everybody wanted to try him out. He could only perform while on cocaine. That sex club was everything to him at one point, and didn't care about anything else anymore. He didn't care for me anymore, he would even threaten me if I didn't shut up. I couldn't even disagree with him anymore, or open my mouth. But I still did. We had so many fights, physically as well. There were a lot of cocaine, tears and blood. I'm talking about the very end of our friendship now. This was the last chapter of us, really.

When I got back from Berlin, I visited him a couple of times still. He was clearly angry I lied to him about me being dead. Which I understand, because I lied to everyone. I was too embarrassed to admit another suicide attempt failed once again. But I will never forget the last conversation we had. It was december, very cold night in Toronto. I remember we were sitting with some of his hoes in the room, they were on coke, I joined a bit but not too much. I figured he started gossiping around with some guy, pointing at me and laughing at me. I didn't do shit, it made me moody as fuck, though. I just refused to talk all night. Went to the kitchen to get some booze. When Kaiden crossed me I just grabbed him and asked him, "what the fuck do you think you're doing bitch?" He just started laughing, he said something like, "just let me go to the bathroom, you schizophrenic thot". I remember looking him in the eyes, feeling furious inside, the anger boiling. I grabbed him, dragged him outside his apartment and just threw him on the ground. He told me all kind of things I will never forget. Made all kind of jokes about me being a 'schizophrenic' and just sick in the head, that I am just like my father, and of course he could because he knew all of my weaknesses. He hurt me so much. He started puching me and we pulled each others hair. It was nasty. He hurt me so much that I wanted to kill him, it triggerd my killer feelings again. I beat him up until he bled, left him lying in the snow and hit him with my car. It felt fucking amazing. Heard he was hospitalized, but didn't die. Unfortunately. I wish I fucking killed him. I really wish I had. Never saw him again, though. But this friendship lead us to a dead end lane. How can somebody you once loved so much betray you like that? How he gave all his support and cared for me while I was going through psychosis, delusions, hard times and end up calling me out for being schizophrenic? Fucking cokehead. Fucking worthless.

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bitt3rsw33tsymph0ny · 6 years

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What’s your deepest fear? Recently I have had a lot of anxiety about my dissertation and the possibility that I will end up graduating with low grades. That turns into the fear that I’m going to end up sitting around doing nothing meaningful with my life. Or sometimes I fear I am not changing or growing fast enough, that I should be learning from my mistakes more quickly. I often get these huge feelings of doubt and insecurity when I think about my university career, and my ability to succeed. I think it’s rooted in a fear that I will disappoint myself but mainly my parents…

Share a memory that makes you smile every time you remember it. So many. But I’m going to a share a fight memory. My coach Jock was wrapping my hands and giving me a pep talk right before my fight in Nov. He was being very sweet, he really helped me up my game in the run up to my fight, working on my technique and fitness and I’d grown to really like and respect him as a trainer and as my coach. And as he was wrapping my hands he told me that I was to be the first woman to fight for the MXP gym, and that now I was going from being a ‘muay thai practitioner’ to an actual ‘muay thai fighter’, I dunno I guess it meant a lot. He was also the one that gave me my fight name ‘the lioness’, which as a name I really loved.. I’m pretty flattered I was the first woman to fight for both MXP and the Stirling University Muay Thai club What was the last thing you google searched? I was researching the documents you need to teach English in South Korea and Japan, and popular teaching programs. Are you a dreamer or a do-er? I think I’m quite a dreamer. And I am constantly in an internal battle against this side of myself. But 2018 is the year I become more of a do-er! Share one of these dreams of yours. I have lots of dreams! Most of them involve travelling and experiencing as many exciting, new and positive things as I can. When I come back from teaching in Asia I plan to stay in Greece for while, get my boat and sailing certificates. Then I’d like to work on a yacht as part of the crew, sail around the world. Has anyone told you they wanted to fuck you recently? not in such explicit terms, no. But something along those lines was suggested. What are your views on gay people? views? what views? I will literally fight you if you say anything derogatory towards gay people. LOVE IS LOVE. Would you ever have sex with a member of the same sex? I find women really attractive and get crushes sometimes, and yes, as I have had sex with a woman before.

Have you ever just felt like giving up? Yeah. I was feeling like that a bit before Christmas, very dejected and demotivated. Thankfully I feel better now. Slowly coming out of the slump. Is there anything you are holding back from telling somebody? no, no secrets. Do you think the last person you kissed has feelings for you? It’s early days yet. But we definitely had a connection. Do you wish someone would show up at your front door right now? yes but woe is me, I need to stay inside. Do you get high a lot? It goes up and down. For the past couple months before I visited Greece, I was smoking quite a bit yes. to the point where it was just hindering my life and depressing me. Since I’ve been here I haven’t smoked at all. Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night? J. Is there anything you are hiding from yourself? yeh the pot issue I often just ignore and pretend like its not a problem. BUT NO MORE. I have decided to start being real with myself. Are you an emotional person? not excessively, i’m pretty neutral a lot of the time. But my emotions are pretty intense when they do come about. often I let them dictate my actions. How do you feel right now? groggy af. Would you ever get a tattoo? I have one and I am planning on getting at least a couple more. Next time I have the money I’m going to book an appointment. Are you satisfied with what you currently have in life? yes, I have no reason not to be. Are you one of those people who can’t go without their morning coffee? yes. What was the last photograph you took? I believe it was a selfie.

What was the last hot food you ate? a traditional Greek dish I made with leeks, carrots, rice and fresh herbs Have you ever seen a meteor shower? I have been fortunate enough to see a couple. I haven’t seen any for years though, I must remember to keep an eye out next summer and make sure I’m somewhere the stars are visible when they happen again in august. How often are you optimistic? depends. lately, not at all. But it is definitely part of my new years resolutions. That, along with being more mindful and doing more meditation. Would you say your thoughts are generally rational and logical or irrational and illogical? I do tend to think a bit irrationally at times, mostly because I like to opt for short term gratification over long term benefits. And I do careless things, speak without thinking, or just don’t think things through properly. But I’m working on it. I really hate being like this…I think the first step to stopping this is to stop defining myself by these traits. Are you wearing anything of any sentimental value? Describe? I’m wearing one of Jiggles oversized shirts which has a picture of a rainbow unicorn and the words ‘Totally straight’ written above it. I always used to wear it as pyjamas when I slept at his and one day he told me to keep it. It’s not particularly sentimental other than the fact my ex gave it to me. Are you the type to pay attention to detail? I like noticing details but I’m always searching for the bigger picture, how it all fits together, assessing something as a whole. Sometimes I miss the details because I don’t pay close attention. To you, what is especially distracting? Stress, stressing and pressure of any kind I find distracting. Or social media, social media is fucking distracting and poison for the mind. Actually distraction is an effect of stressing, and social media is the means by which I distract myself, but what I find especially distracting is the fact there is constantly so much activity and so much choice in this world. Often I think if I had fewer choices and opportunities available to me I would be able to commit to one fully and focus much easier. What are some things that are important in your life right now? My degree. It’s the final push cmon Nat. My martial arts training. The benefits I have felt from Muay Thai doesn’t compare to pretty much anything else. And maintaining good relationships with my family and friends. Taking care of my own mental well-being. Making positive personal changes and all those other cliches. When was the last time you did some major cleaning? Before I left for Greece I did a big clean up of the house because it was getting disgusting. Have you ever thrown anything away, and regretted it later? Nothing that I can remember clearly. I mean I’ve certainly done it before but I think that’s just me, I often get paranoid about throwing things away and used to be really bad for hoarding things. Thankfully I have decluttered my life a bit more now so I’m better. Are you the type to regret things, or live and learn? I don’t feel much regret for my past mistakes so I like to think I have lived and learned. Obviously there are some areas where I still make the same mistakes…but it’s a process. How often do you feel like you need time to yourself? I am by myself in Scotland quite a bit, so no I don’t feel like that. Though if I’ve been with people for too long (especially a few days in a row) I definitely require some space after it Do you like being around other people? Why is this? I do get a lot of pleasure from being around other people, i’m an extrovert so I will often seek out other peoples company. In fact sometimes I rely on it as a distraction and use it as a means not to think and deal with internal issues. I need it, almost like a drug. But I recognise that constantly being with others is really not that beneficial for me. it should be quality over quantity. Problem is I believe I work best when I’m in an environment with other people. Do you feel like anyone “gets” you? Who? I feel like a lot of people ‘get’ me. My best friends. Some random people I have met and clicked with instantaneously. And a lot of my old friends from St Lawrence, because we grew up together, understand me more than my friends in Scotland. But it’s like they only get that side of me…they don’t understand the ‘me’ I have become in Scotland. Just like my Scottish friends don’t really get the ‘me’ I was in Greece. Jiggles I used to feel like he understood me so wholly. Obviously not anymore.. there is a part of me that now feels no one will ever know every single part of me, because they’d have to understand the perspective I am coming from and the one I currently experience. Which is impossible because all our experiences are unique to ourselves. What would you be most likely to do with a friend, today? going for a coffee and a swim. it was a beautiful sunny day. When are you most likely to be crabby? I don’t do early mornings very well. Also if I’m stressed or really under pressure I become an asshole. How about upbeat and cheerful? mornings, but after I’ve had my coffee. After I’ve exercised. When I’m out drinking. Who challenges you the most? In what way? Battling with control and self-discipline. STICKING TO SOMETHING. Who seems to hold you back? In what way? I think the only person holding me back is myself. And my inability to stick to plans. Sometimes I’ll allow the influence of other people to hold me back as well. When I need to trust myself more. According to the Myer-Briggs test, what personality type are you? I love that shit. taking personality quizzes. even though they are inaccurate as fuck and really only serve to confirm what people like to think about themselves. I got ENFP-t, the campaigner personality What has been preoccupying your mind today? This guy I was hanging with last night. We had a really good time. We were just talking and talking and talking for ages. He took me to this indoor skate park he’d built himself. Then we went back to his house…I assumed he’d invited me round so we could smoke weed together, then he pulls out this bag of coke …well I guess it escalated. But I had a great time. kind of wish I’d bitten the bullet and slept with him, but we’ve only just met so I wasn’t really comfortable enough.

What was the last opportunity that you passed up, and why? decided against fighting in february even though I’d already said yes and had even been matched so I don’t have a breakdown. my diss is due a month after that and I just know myself, I wouldn’t be able to fully concentrate on winning the fight or completing my work, I sensed disaster. see, I am trying to make sensible decisions even though they pain me greatly Would you rather have a quiet day at home, or be on the go? It’s all about having a balance, right? Sometimes I need my days inside. But I feel like I enjoy my days out a lot more because I’m quite an active person. Do you think you made a good impression on the last person you met? yes i reckon so. How do you feel about people who neglect their pets? fuck those people. If you can’t take good care of them don’t have them! Should there be an application process for having children? I feel like that would be a sure way of making it an elitist thing, or to stop those without power and money from having kids…I also just don’t think the government should have that right of control over its citizens…regardless of the fact so many babies are being brought into this world and are suffering at the the hands of neglectful families. It should still be our right to choose. I think there should be better sex education and free contraceptives for all who need them.

Are you able to ask for help when you need it? yes, I’m not one of those people who find it hard to ask for help. In fact I would say I am someone that has a tendency to depend too much on others for help, when I run into any difficulties. How intense is your anger? Have you ever hurt anyone/yourself? pretty fucking intense sometimes, but I also get feelings of general annoyance. I have bashed my head against a wall but nothing extreme like cutting. I regretfully have hurt people physically in anger before…I know it’s shameful but I have a bit of a violent streak (I blame the sport and my father.) It’s never anything that leaves a lasting mark but when I lose my temper I snap and can act without thinking. What is something red that you like to eat? tomatoes!! fucking love tomatoes. Do you ever have trouble getting lighters to work? sometimes. If someone drinks, would that lower your opinion of that person? No I would be a hypocrite if I did. Not that I drink much usually but I don’t like to hold peoples vices against them. Unless they have responsibilities to family or are continuously hurting others with their actions. What if they did drugs? This is sad to admit but it would probably do the opposite. I enjoy drugs myself and yeah, sometimes have a tendency to glorify them. Do you know anyone who is abusive? Are you abusive? I do, yes. not physically but emotionally. I know several people. I would like to think that I myself am not abusive, but we all have tendencies to do abusive things without realising it. Actually one of the things that lead to my last break up was my ex bf insisted I had been acting abusive towards him when we went on this trip together to Vietnam. It quite shocked me…made me reassess some things. Mostly that if he felt I was being abusive I probably was crossing the line…and because I couldn’t bring myself to treat him any better, the break up felt like the right thing to do. I think. Have you ever contemplated cheating on anyone? yes, there have been temptations. And I would be lying if I said I have not cheated… If your best friend wanted to cheat on his/her partner, you would say? I mean it’s up to them. Assuming they really loved their partner and was generally happy in the relationship, or if they were drunk and about to make a stupid decision, I would try to stop it. But since neither of my bffs are like that I would probably trust them to make their own decisions. I am not here to judge them although I would probably gently try to warn them about the consequences. Who do you know that gives very sound advice? Isabella gives me pretty sound advice. She’s honestly my rock. And my mum, who has been there for me with all her years of wisdom throughout all my troubles, break ups and other things besides. Between them I can keep myself in check. What do you think makes a person weak? someone who never confronts their fears…is a coward…someone who preys on the weak, whose egos is fragile, who can’t deal with any criticism. Someone who doesn’t have morals, who doesn’t care about anything, and revels in their indifference. What makes a person strong? I guess it’s the quality of being able to pick yourself up, again and again, despite life’s knocks. It’s about tenacity. It’s about standing strong to your principles and being true to yourself and to others. It’s about honesty…and having the courage to do the right thing even though it’s the hard thing. Name one thing that you think defines you as a person? I would like to think it’s the fact that I’m soft but also pretty tough. The reality is probably different …I don’t know..I think that I stand out from the crowd a bit…because I’m not scared of being unique and acting like myself. And i’m willful as all hell. Okay that was three things but I really can’t say! Who do you go to when you need comfort? Tamsin. I find that she will always empathise and knows what to say when I’m feeling shitty. We’ve known each other for so long and our friendship means so much to me. I also like to go to my sister, who always helps me see the humour in things and usually gives me a fresh perspective on the situation. But I might go to different people for different things, depending on why I needed comforting.

Is there anyone/thing with whom/which you like to cuddle? I used to love cuddling Jiggles, that guy was the most cuddly guy I knew. He was always so enthusiastic about hugs. And he liked to ruffle me and pick me up and shake me in a big hug like a rag doll. Now all the cuddling action I get is from my stuffed animal, Kitty. Do nightmares still bother you? I have never really been troubled by nightmares. Apart from the one off or in a period of high anxiety, but usually I sleep soundly. At what age did you start to feel like a teen, and not a kid anymore? I think 15 was the threshold for me.

Are you or were you in a hurry to grow up? I wasn’t in a hurry before, and I am certainly in no hurry now. If anything it’s even worse now because I am supposed to be a fully fledged adult, and I look like one, but am certainly, 100%, not one. What is a fear you have about living on your own? I get lonely. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle living completely by myself. I waste a lot of time when I think no one is watching. Who was the last person to completely fascinate you? Thomas Shelby from the peaky blinders. I know he is a fictional character but I am full on obsessed.

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