i kept pretending

Something’s wrong.

 Even can tell the moment he sees Isak after their first class. Someone who doesn’t know him might not be able to tell, but the two of them have spent more time together than many people would say is healthy, and by now they know all the little details of each others’ body language. Even sees the way Isak’s shoulders slump just a little bit, how his eyes turn to the floor rather than the hallway in front of him, how the little dandelion Even picked this morning on their way to school is no longer tucked behind his ear, and something is obviously very, very wrong.

 Even has no idea why. Isak was so happy earlier this morning, beaming with that dandelion behind his ear as they said goodbye before going to class. He would like to talk to him about it, but he barely has time to kiss him on the cheek and say hello before the boys join them. Magnus and Mahdi instantly pick up where the conversation from earlier this morning left off - something about one of the shitty movies they watched this weekend - and Even doesn’t blame them for it. They’ve spent little to no time alone with Isak; of course they haven’t learned how to read him. Jonas, on the other hand, sees it immediately, and he looks at Even like he’s asking; Do you know what this is about?

 Even shakes his head ever so slightly; he barely moves at all. But Jonas sees it, and now he’s looking at Isak, obvious concern in his eyes. Isak doesn’t look back at him; his eyes are on the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Never on Jonas, never on Even.

 They don’t get to talk for several hours after this; there’s no time. Not that Even would want to have this kind of conversation at school; it’s a conversation that should be saved for when they’re safe back inside the walls of their home. This doesn’t mean they don’t talk about it at all. They talk silently, through their little movements, while they sit closely together in the cafeteria at lunch. Even tries to look Isak in the eye. What’s wrong? Isak looks back up at him for a second, shakes his head, looks away. Leave it.

 They both know he won’t.

They walk back home in silence. Not the comfortable kind, but the kind that means they should talk but don’t. Isak doesn’t want to, Even doesn’t know how to. So instead, they walk in silence.

 Eventually, though, Even recognizes the small patch of dandelions that they passed this morning, and he can’t help but smile. He turns to Isak. “Hey, you.”

 Isak looks up just as Even lets go of his hand and turns away from him to pick one of the flowers. Turning back, he gently strokes Isak’s cheek as he tucks the little flower behind his ear. This, finally, brings a smile to Isak’s face. A small one, but still; it’s a smile. He looks up to meet Even’s gaze for a split second, before turning back to the pavement below them.

 That’s the final push that Even needs.


 He slowly moves his hand from Isak’s ear back to his cheek, cupping his face. His thumb slowly moves up and down in gentle strokes, and Isak leans into the touch, closing his eyes. He looks almost relieved, like he’s finally allowed to rest after wandering for miles. He sighs deeply through his nose, and Even is so in love with him he can barely breathe. He lives for quiet moments like this; the moments that are intimate without the two of them necessarily being physically close. But Isak is hurting, and Even’s still worried. He slowly leans forward until their foreheads touch, breathes in and out; one, two, three times. Then he asks;

 “What’s wrong?”

 Isak sighs again. He sounds almost annoyed, like he’s wondering why they couldn’t just have this moment without bringing up the bad things again, and if it weren’t for the circumstances, Even would have been amused. “Nothing,” Isak mutters.

 Even allows a couple of silent seconds to pass; closing his eyes and opening them again. Isak’s hands feel warm against his arms. “No, it’s not nothing, Isak.”

 Isak slowly opens his eyes. His gaze is still glued to the ground. He shifts uncomfortably, but his forehead never leaves Even’s. “It’s fine, you… You don’t need to worry about it.”

 “Yes, I do. I always worry about you. It’s my job.”

Isak finally looks up, meeting Even’s gaze. He laughs a little, and it’s at least half genuine. A small victory, Even thinks. “I thought I was your support person, and not the other way around?”

 That actually makes Even laugh. “Yeah, yeah. You don’t know me. Maybe your parents pay me too.”

 Isak lets out a surprised, fake offended laugh. He playfully shoves Even away, still holding him but keeping him an arm’s length away. “What? Really?”

 “Yeah. It’s the only reason they let us move in together.”

 Isak shakes his head. “Well, this is it. I’m breaking up with you.”

 “No, why would you do that?” Even pouts, pulling the other boy back in.

 “Well, obviously I can’t date someone who makes deals with my parents behind my back!”

 “Why not? I put up with you.”

 “Yeah, but it’s different when it’s you.”

 “Oh, it is?”


Isak won’t stop laughing, and Even’s heart melts into a puddle in his chest. This guy. Finally seeing him happy, even if it’s just for a moment, feels like coming home. The giggly kisses that follow come as naturally as breathing, their banter continuing as quiet mumbling during the short moments when their lips part.

 Eventually, though, Isak stops and just holds him, leaning his forehead against his chest as the smile slowly falls from his face. Even doesn’t push; doing so wouldn’t help, only make Isak return to his shell. He just holds him, resting his head on the other boys hair. They breathe; in and out, together.

 “It’s Sana.”

 The hint of a smile appears on Even’s face, out of pure relief that Isak is finally allowing him to help. Then, he frowns. “Did something happen to her?” The idea of Sana doing something, anything, to hurt Isak is completely out of the question to him. She’s one of the nicest people he’s ever met, and she’s even nicer when she’s with Isak. The two of them just seem to get each other, and if she’s upset about something Even can definitely see Isak being affected by it.

 “No. Or, well. I don’t know.” He pauses. Even feels his warm breaths against his chest. “She… She won’t talk to me.”

 It’s about the fight, Even realizes, and something sinks inside him. He pushes it away. Not now. This is about Isak.

 “Is it… Is it about Elias?”

 “She talked about him. Said she was sorry. But she wouldn’t keep talking to me after that.”

 Even isn’t sure what to say. He runs his hand through Isak’s curls, pressing little kisses to the top of his head. When he finally speaks up, he’s more quiet than he was earlier. “I think she just needs some time. This probably hasn’t been easy for her.”

“No. She hates me.” Isak says it half-jokingly, but there’s an unmistakable undertone that Even recognizes far too well. This is what Isak sounds like when his relationship with his parents is going through a particularly rough phase, or when something he did in the past comes back to haunt him, or when someone -once in a blue moon - gives their joint hands a weird look and all that shame comes rushing back to him. Even leans down to meet his gaze.

“Isak. She apologized to you, right? Why would she do that if she hates you?”

Isak’s eyes remain on the ground, and Even knows it’s not getting any better than this. Not today. He caresses the younger boy’s cheek again, moving up to his forehead and back down again; touching the bruise on his eye, carefully. Slowly, he presses a kiss to Isak’s lips. No tongue, no moving around; just a soft, simple kiss. “Hey.”

Isak’s eyes are closed. At the sound of Even’s voice they slowly open again; moving back up to the older boy’s eyes.

Even moves back in, gently rubbing his nose against Isak’s. “I love you. Okay?”

Isak’s mouth hangs open ever so slightly. Even loves it when he does that; it’s like he still can’t believe Even has said those words, as if they both haven’t already said them countless times. He smiles a little. “Okay.”

Then, after leaning in even closer to Even, he adds; “I love you too”, and Even decides that they’ll be fine. They’re always fine.

the signs as sad quotes from various sources
  • aries: "Hey God, if you're there, my life has really sucked. So please, for once, let me have a sweet dream."
  • - Puella Magi Madoka Magica
  • taurus: "Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. You made me so happy. I don’t want you to be lost or afraid or anything like that. From here on out, I know things might be hard sometimes. But no matter what may await, please don’t regret meeting me."
  • - Clannad
  • gemini: "Please boss, don't put that thing over my face, don't put me in the dark. I's afraid of the dark."
  • - The Green Mile
  • cancer: "Don’t go. Don’t go. Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me behind."
  • - Your Lie in April
  • leo: "I ruined everything. The only thing I can do is make sure no one gets close to me"
  • -Kotoura-san
  • virgo: "It's called a miracle because it doesn't happen."
  • - Kanon
  • libra: "Artax you're sinking! Come on, turn around! You have to now! Come on, Artax! Fight against the sadness, Artax! Artax, please!"
  • - The Neverending Story
  • scorpio: "Upset? I'm not upset. You have no idea how much pain I'm in. It's like being cut open every day, bleeding onto the stones. I can't understand how any of you failed to see the blood...."
  • - Warrior Cats
  • sagittarius: "Take her to the moon for me. Okay?"
  • - Inside Out
  • capricorn: "They were weak. That’s why they died. We were weak, too. That’s why we couldn’t save them."
  • - Terror in Resonance
  • aquarius: "Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold."
  • - The Outsiders
  • pisces: "This is the end of my dream. My wings forgot how to fly, since I only kept pretending to flap them. Is there a meaning to wings that can’t fly?"
  • - Air

anonymous asked:

Do you have any fake/pretend relationships aus but not between Harry and Louis?

Hi, sorry I couldn’t really find any fics like that. Every time I was searching, I just kept finding fake/pretend relationships between Harry and Louis - so sorry about that! If anyone knows of any then don’t hesitate to send an ask and I will gladly make a post of them all! 

But here are some of my favourite fake/pretend relationship Au’s between Louis and Harry (for others too):

And Then A Bit by infinitelymint [ 14/14 | English | 158,824 ] ***

Aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.

Don’t Tell The Gods (We Left A Mess) by bottomlinsons [ 12/12 | English | 71,556 } ***

After a misunderstanding with Liam’s mother, Louis agrees to accompany his best friend to a family wedding and pretend to be the world’s best boyfriend. But their simple plan goes awry when he learns that Harry, ex-boyfriend/ex-love of Louis’ life, will also be in attendance.

California Sold by isthatyoularry [ 13/13 | English | 123,536 ] ***

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever. A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

Faking It by TheCellarDoor [ 1/1 | English | 46,173 ] ***

Aka Harry pretends to date his best friend to escape unwanted attention from a too insistent classmate and hopes it won’t blow up in his face. Featuring embarrassing dildo accidents, awkward boners, longing, first times, late night conversations, emotional discoveries and Niall as the exasperated friend with bad advice.

Nobody Shines The Way You Do by wildestdream [ 4/4 | English | 115,351 ] ***

Louis pretends to be Harry’s boyfriend to help him win back his douchebag ex-boyfriend, but things don’t go according to plan.

Happy Reading! :) 


The Fanon Adventures of Steve Rogers (and friends)

Why I sleep with my bedroom door shut.

My parents divorced when I was eight years old. They had just purchased a house together in the woods in Walker, Louisiana, which is twenty or so miles from Baton Rouge. After seeing his subsequent relationships, I realize that this is something my father does when his marriage is rocky- he sells his house and then buys or builds a new one for the sake of distraction. I’ve actually seen it work for him. Once engaged in a new project and excited by the possibilities, his wife might forget to ask why he was out so late, who he was with, and why he smells like another woman’s perfume. But this time, his trick didn’t work. My mother had had enough. I don’t even think we lived in that house in the woods for a full year before my mother suggested he go stay with his whore instead.

I wasn’t terribly upset by this. My father and I had never been close. He was a no-nonsense high school coach, and I was bookish and skinny and weird. Far from the athlete he’d wanted. Though, to be fair, he didn’t try to push me into sports or pressure me to follow football. Instead, he ignored me entirely in favor of my little brother, Trent, who seemed like he was born with a ball in his hand. Trent didn’t play one sport, he played all of them, starting when he was merely a toddler. I never resented either of them for this, I merely mention it to help paint a picture of my brother. If Trent and I had been one person, we’d be a very well-rounded individual. Me, precocious and dreamy and even-tempered. Trent, sporty and rough and emotional, living up very well to the reputation that came with his bright red hair even when he was still in diapers. You couldn’t have two more opposite children. But we loved each other fiercely, particularly in the early years of our parents’ divorce. Though there were three bedrooms in this house in the woods, Trent and I shared one, not wanting to be separated.

Keep reading

Little Story from 3rd sem College days(3 years ago)

On those days I hadn’t even heard of the word Asexual or Aromantic so I had never thought that being like that is acceptable or normal.
But still you can’t think differently even though you don’t know what you are. 
So here’s the story-

I was in a programming lecture and there was a girl who had asked our mutual friends to ask me if I like her. And they asked me “How does she look, in front of her." 
I cracked a joke and avoided that situation. After the class they told me that she asked them to do that because she wanted to go on a date with me.
I said "I don’t wanna date." 
They said "Heck dude, she is hot, why do you not wanna go on a date with her”

I said “I don’t feel like that man”

After a few days When I was moving with my friend and I asked my friend “Dude, wanna go for dinner?” and she was following me and said “Would you like to come with me for dinner?”

I really didn’t want to, so i simply kept on walking pretending that I hadn’t heard what she said.
She was of course a nice person but I’m an Aro-Ace and I just get a repulsive feeling when I think about dating and stuff.

So what I wanna say is, that’s not like Aro-Aces can’t get a date, they can, but some may not like to date, some may like to date, that depends.

You don’t have to go against your thought because of society or other reasons.

A Happy Valentine’s day to the Aro-Aces in advance! :)

Tricked? (Josh x Reader)

This is a request :)
Plot: You are the shy girl in school. Everyone has a crush on Josh including you. What you didn’t know was he also liked you. You both didn’t want to admit it. He soon later tells you but you back off unsure if he was trying to trick you or not.

Readers Point Of View
Here we go again. I just need to get through this last year and I’m off to collage. Me being me I go straight to the spot I always go to when I’m early for school. There was a tree behind the school in the field where I always go to relax and get away from the world.

To get to this spot you needed to go through the whole in the fence and it would lead to an area surrounded by trees. Like a small forest. No one knows about it but me and I wanted to keep it that way.

As I go to this spot I see Josh, the boy everyone liked. A small blonde haired girl was trying to talk to him but Josh looked away looking rather annoyed. He turned his head and saw me. His eyes went wide as he saw me. I took this as a bad sign and walked faster.

“Y/n! Wait up.” Josh called. Getting away from the blonde girls grip.

I started to walk faster than I did before. Wanting to get away from the attention.

“Why, are you walking so fast?” He said while grabbing my arm. I flinched a little. It didn’t hurt I was just frightened. “Oh, sorry.”

“Listen, I gotta go.” I then walked away going to my spot. I felt bad but I couldn’t handle the attention that would come if I talked to him. People would ask questions.

“Oh, okay then.” Mumbling something under his breath sounding sad. 

Okay, now I feel really bad but I need to go. I put my headphones and slowly go on my way. The day was chilly. My oversized sweater was appropriate for this weather. The orange and red leaves spread out across the field making the dull green grass pop out more.

I went through the fence and lied down on the bench that was worn out and damaged but that’s what I liked about it. I stayed like that until the bell rang signaling that it was time to go to first period. I got up and ran towards the school not wanting to be late. I was supposed to go five minutes early but I was to consumed by the music.

First period was boring. The teacher kept on talking about how we should be able to follow the rules at our age. Our school did this thing where they reminded us about the school rules every once a month. While I was sitting there, I felt a someone staring at me and I began to feel very uncomfortable.

I debated looking around and making eye contact. I then proceeded to look around.  My eyes landed on Josh and he seemed to be doing the same. I didn’t know what to do. Act normal Y/n. Wait, how do I act normal? I’m over thinking this.

Thank god the bell rang. I packed all my things and grabbed my bag then got out of there as fast I could. The same cycle repeated until lunch. Well, everything but the whole Josh thing.

Forgetting about lunch I went straight to my spot. For a shy girl It was taking a big risk doing this. It was technically going off school campus. But I was used to it. This time it was lightly raining. I was so lost in my head that when someone tapped my shoulder I screamed. Not loud but it wasn’t quite either.

“Wow, calm down! It’s me Tyler.” He said with wide eyes not expecting me to scream. “Okay, didn’t see that coming.” Tyler chuckled.

“How did you find me? No one knows this place but me.” I was confused as to how he found me.

“Well, that’s not true anymore I guess. Josh told me. This sounds creepy but he kinda watched you a couple times when you go here. I won’t cover him on that.” Tyler laughed. I just blushed. Damn, I must be really red.

“Tyler, not to be rude but what are you doing here?” I was kinda mad that this wasn’t my secret place anymore.

“Oh, I don’t really know. Josh went with some girl and I wanted to come over here and just talk to someone that isn't 'fake’ and only interested in getting in my pants. Oh, and I need advice.” Tyler smiled shyly.

“I’m not that good at advice Tyler. Just warning you now.” I said honestly.

“Its okay. I can’t talk to Josh because he’s always distracted by a girl. He doesn’t like the attention but he says that he needed to get ‘some girl’ out of his mind.” Tyler talked about Josh kinda like he was annoyed.

“And you don’t like that I’m guessing.” Pointing out the obvious.

“No, because if he really liked the girl then he should say something. Honestly, Humans are so confusing.” Tyler sighed. “Tell me about it.” I agreed.

“The bells about to ring, Ill talk to you later.” Tyler smiled showing his teeth.

“Okay, thanks for the talk.” I waved.

“No problem. It was nice talking to you. I really needed it.” He said before walking off.

The rest of the day went by slow. It felt like time went by slower just torture me. When I walked home I hummed along to the song. The day was quite. It rained a little harder but I enjoyed it.  I looked around only to see Josh with headphones in walking on the other side of the road. He hasn’t noticed me yet so I walked faster.

“Y/n! Y/n wait!” I heard Josh call my name. Damn, I was caught. I kept walking pretending that I couldn’t hear him because of the music.

“Wait!” Josh grabbed my shoulders.

“Umm..” I froze taking out my headphones. “Hi?” I said shyly.

He chuckled and that made me blush even harder.

“Hey.” He smiled. “How are you?”

“Umm.. good I guess.” Trying not to freak out.

“Okay, I wanted to tell you something.” He looked nervous.

“Oh god” Not meaning to say that aloud.

“It’s nothing bad. I hope.” He whispered the last heard it anyways. God he was so cute. Shut up Y/n.

“Umm…Okay. I’m just going to say it. I like you, Y/n.” He smiled nervously.

“Oh. Oh. Okay.” Not knowing how to respond.

I didn’t believe him. Tyler said that Josh was hanging out with other girls and just the other day he was kissing some girl in the hallway.

“Is this a prank or something? This isn’t funny Josh but nice try.” I was kinda hurt.

I mean how typical. ‘Lets get the shy girls hopes up and that’ll be funny haha"

“What? No, Its not like that. Y/n I truly mean it.” Josh looked hurt. I just don’t know.

“How can I believe you?” I said unsure.

“You can’t but you can trust me.”

“Josh, I just don’t know.” I turned away. I started to walk but he pulled me back. He reached out and put his hands on my face gently.

“Please?” He looked me in the eyes and his eyes were beautiful. I’ve never noticed them before.

“But those girls?” I questioned.

“They were a distraction. I know it sounds stupid but I thought I could never have you and I couldn’t handle that.” He sounded honest.

“Do you trust me?” he asked. I thought about it for a moment before nodding.

“Good.” He said before pulling me in. I then felt his lips on mine and it was odd. It felt like a romantic cliché movie with the rain. We pulled away. All we could do was smile like an idiot.

Remember that time I wrote 50k word pjo mermaid au? Well here’s what Annabeth looked liked in my head in that story. And it’s also MerMay so I’m celebrating 

Also, ignore my shitty attempt at arms and my excuse not to draw hands because I can’t do either

Trans in Theatre: Adversarial and Jubilant Ultimatums

          After one of our late night dress rehearsals for Footloose, I felt a friend to my right grip my arm during our notes. She said, “Denny, are you okay?” and I realized tears were falling down my cheeks without my notice at all. At that point, everybody fixated their eyes on me and for the first time (of soon-to-be many), I felt seen but so unseen. This was my junior year in high school, and I was cast as the male lead, Ren McCormack. Despite the crisp dance moves and singing, the director kept telling me that something was still not right about my performance. She then sat with me until midnight, where we were the only ones left on stage. Through the shakiness in my voice and my hands burying my face, I said, “It’s just hard playing something you know you’re not.”

           She looked at me, and for the first time, I think she really saw me.

          My senior year I was cast as The Leading Player in Pippin, a gender neutral character with a presence so demanding you can’t take your eyes off the charm, wit, and agility. Around this time I was sneaking out late at night, dressing up with my friends and going out. Liberating myself from gender roles and rebelling against their normalizations kept me stable emotionally and mentally. I was in a place where I had to dissect gender to its core in order to sort myself, and experimenting with winged eyeliner paired with a staple dark red lips and too many striped dresses allowed me to come to terms with myself at my own pace. I took advantage of the ambiguity of gender within my role in the show through androgyny.

           Femininity turned from secretive repression into a hobby.

          My first theatrical experience in college was an identity play reading for The Laramie Project, a collection of reactions to the homophobic murder of Matthew Shepard in 1998. I auditioned for two women in the room, one who was an upperclassman directing the play, the other an older white woman who accompanied the student director. She had a sweet and nurturing voice, and a full head of gray and white hair that complimented her soft smile. I felt an odd sense of comfort for a strange white lady I barely knew. She still recognizes me now and wishes me well whenever we bump into each other. I read a monologue they provided and was contacted the next day to play Romaine Patterson, the lesbian best friend of Matthew. It was my first time reading a part that was inherently for a woman. I don’t recall my exact emotion that given moment, but I know I was happy. Telling my friends about it felt radical and transformative. To be seen as a genderqueer person of color beyond that identity and only for talent was a big deal for me. Previous auditions for The Voice and X-Factor never went well because like my high school director, the producers could tell something was off.

           I started to, too.

          The following semester, I took an acting class. The second I walked into the first day of class and saw twelve fraternity boys was the second my own ideas of theatre spaces being safe from potentially harmful masculinities were proven wrong. My professor was a mother with a smile as big as her frames, face framed by the middle part of her dark curls as beautiful as her name—Carmela. Her fingers were crowded with unique rings, her outfits casual yet bold with statement pieces—I could tell this person was comfortable with who she was, while remaining to be somewhat reserved. I envied her. I wanted her womanhood, although confusion overshadowed my lack of vocabulary to express this specific desire. All I knew to do was to wake up two hours prior to classes for the sole reason of feminizing myself. But the hesitation on femininity started the moment she referred to me with “she, her” pronouns, which led the entire class, including the fraternity boys, to do as well. At the time I reserved to gender neutral pronouns because I knew I wanted to detach myself from anything innately considered ‘male’, and unlike the most heard trans narratives, growing up without exposure to trans folks (a conscious one, that is) left me thinking my gender was concrete, and Carmela was another person to see me beyond what I knew was possible, and that is woman. Her de-solidifying my possibilities as a person gave me space to let my gender identity move and rebuild, even with words as scary as “her” and “girl”.

           Not once did I ever correct anybody in that class.

           Transitioning started the summer after that. I officially came out as a woman, and coming back to school was surprisingly easy. I never thought much about what it must have been like for everyone else, which led me to sleep comfortably every night thinking everyone around me must be on board as well—the theatre department included. I wish people spoke to me about concerns, or vocalized their questions, in which I would have been much slower and more patient moving forward. Instead I felt immortal and unbeatable, and receiving my first female lead in a show the same day I started my medical transition were only further signs that I was going in the right direction. I was misgendered throughout the show but I disregarded that. I recognized the ways in which I could have been critical in the moment but I disregarded that. I refused to admit that people were not seeing me as a woman because I accepted and made effort to uphold how progressive everyone involved in the production must have been to include me in the first place. Although I wore an exquisite wedding gown, I also wore three noses but I disregarded that. I felt beautiful in the midst of knowing the audience saw me otherwise—I played the freak but I disregarded that. I kept quiet because a part of me felt that staying silent as the team player would access me to more opportunities. I was right. A few months after, I was cast for the following semester’s show, where not only did I play a woman, but a woman of my race. I thought the recognition as a woman of color meant that I was perceived twice—for my gender, and for my racial background. But I was still misgendered throughout, therefore disregard became a way to navigate spaces where successes and failures were happening simultaneously.

          Earning my first female role as an openly trans woman should have been the starting point to education beyond inclusion, because what is the point of inclusion if we are unaware of its purposes? What is the point of adding flowers to the living room if there are no given benefits to the overall goal of aesthetic aside from sole decoration? My personal purpose was to prove people’s inherent assumptions about trans talent wrong—not to be tokenized. It still is. But being in my position and getting two leads in a row, I had a responsibility to fulfill. The fulfillment of my responsibilities became highly prioritized because I know opportunities like these do not always work in the favor of girls like me. Taking it for granted was never an option. So when I found out I was the only woman of Asian descent to even audition I kept pretending that I played these roles because I could, not because I was needed; because I have talent, not because of profitable aspects about myself that could satisfy their agendas.

           For the next few months I shared my story, making sure I expressed that it was never just a role I earned, but that I was transitioning under a microscope for the majority of campus to watch. Therefore, people knew who I was and could comprehend how big of an accomplishment this must have been for me. I bounced from one interview to the next ranging from friends’ articles to local newspaper journalism, giving them the heroic story I knew they wanted. Here I was, a nineteen year old Southeast Asian trans woman spilling my story of the adversity of transitioning at school, whilst spilling my story of triumph and attainment of playing main female characters in the theater department, knowing that there were gaps in between one story of challenge and the other of execution. I did not tell them that many people were struggling to see me beyond a man, that these roles were not the only thing I was “acting” in. I did not tell them that I felt the pressure to act woman on the daily—for the sake of being understood— and add on my character on top of that to act for. I did not tell them that I felt exhausted, stripped of my own personhood. But most of all, I did not tell them these feelings because I was warped in my own thought that the things I accomplished were courageous, and nothing else.

           I was happy, though.

           At least happy enough to come back my junior year believing I was going to be seen no different from the rest of the girls during auditions. Especially because none of the roles required the women to be a specific kind of woman, and therefore I sought after them as my perfect chance to really prove people that I was capable and deserving of a female role with no strings attached. For the first audition, I studied the script months prior to the audition day and created two monologues on my own from pieces in it. Oddly enough, the night of auditions, there were two female monologues provided, in which they were almost identical to the one I put together. Instantly I felt at an advantage because it was clear that the visions I had for these women were very close to the director’s. For the first time, I did not have to use vulnerable parts of me as a source of reliability, only creativity and deep understanding of the script. The second audition was for the only female role in the show. Her character development was built off of the desire and dream to be a forefront leader despite—or maybe even because—of her gender, a desire and dream I hold closely.

           The following day I searched hard for my name on the callback list before realizing that I was not called back for either shows. I felt the people behind me looking over my shoulders to see the cast list, and in their exhales I heard “Sorry, maybe next time,” “Yikes,” “I feel bad for you,” “What happened?

           What happened?

           I felt myself in shock, but worked painfully hard to prevent any showings of defeat or weakness. I came into my junior year with content and pride in the conquering of my endeavors, and within those five seconds of glance I started to question everything I might have done wrong. Straight away I put the responsibility on me, because the professors I have worked with know what they are doing, right? They are the ones whose judgments should be trusted, no? During a callback, the people who auditioned are asked to come back because the directors or anybody else involved were interested in what they had to offer during their auditions. This can either solidify the decision to cast these people, or make them change their minds. To be stopped before the second process confused me in all angles. I saw myself back in sophomore, junior, and senior year of high school where producers never passed me through the first rounds of The Voice and X-Factor auditions because they knew something felt misaligned. But this time, I was whole, with the strongest sense of identity out of all twenty years of my life, so therefore, my identity could not have been the reason, no? I don’t want to believe my transness is the reason I was not granted the opportunity to prove myself past auditions, and it took me strength to slowly admit to myself that my experiences in previous shows were never perfect. Some days they were barely validating or comfortable. It was a difficult process having to prove my own gender before the characters I played.

           I learned to prove myself—(cis) womanhood before talent, whiteness before talent, Americanness before talent (unless my race is needed)—twice as hard for half the consideration before somebody else’s name blankets mine. When I do earn a part, I memorize my lines twice as hard for half the recognition compared to someone who might embody surpassing privileges that give them access to opportunities where recognition is a routine experience in their involvements in theater. Over the past couple of months my peers in the department have comforted me with words like “it’s not fair to you,” “your gender is valid regardless,” “this is not a representation of your talents.”

           For those who have been my backbone throughout this emotional calculation, I profoundly thank you. However, the problem is that there is more to this. I am not seeking out validation—I know I’m valid. I am not having these conversations to re-stabilize myself as if I’ve lost a sense of identity, but to redirect the conversation and have everybody else acknowledge why they don’t have it as exhaustive, and what integrating privileges they possess that allows them to think this issue is one sided, and therefore lacks a need to hold themselves accountable at any extent. Many of the minoritized students participate in the identity play series, where their theatrical experience lasts for only one to two weeks for rehearsals—the performance production is not as tumultuous as the faculty or student directed shows. The series allows for many unheard narratives to be on the front lines of exposure and the following discussion sessions open up the conversation into further depth. However, many of the participants are only exclusive to identity play readings, and the space to welcome them (with effort) to larger scale shows in the department is limited, thus there is an imbalance between the demographics of the regular members who participate in major production shows versus the ones who are part of the identity series. This leads to the impression that those whose identities are minoritized are utilizable when their otherness is needed—a deep pain I know all too well.

           My experience in the department lies at the crux of having enough marginalized identities to truly transcend in identity play series with personal authenticity and having enough past experience to be given roles for the main stage. I aspire the space to roam freely where I can openly talk about what it means to be an Asian transgender woman in the theatre department, but also where I can express myself artistically without my sense of self being the source of muse for whatever it is I do on stage. It is impossible to completely disregard my transness, but to make my work revolved around it is no better.

          There is a way for transness to flourish in plays and productions that have the potential to be progressive. Angel from Rent encapsulates the reclamation of femininity (for a person who is inherently not meant to be feminine under the socialization they were enforced into) as her narrative parallels amongst many trans women who internally struggle to claim their own girlhoods. In this I see a theatrical opportunity to have the production not only progress the show, but allow opportunities for trans women of color to showcase talent, even if Angel is traditionally a drag queen of color. A modernized adaptation allows a political play to move along with progressing politics.

           There is also a way for transness to not completely diverge from any other plays, because trans narratives are not completely alienated from non-trans narratives—there will always be a bridge in between. In 9th grade, my English class read Romeo and Juliet, and nobody volunteered to read for Juliet. I felt her character on a deep level but hesitated to raise my hand—not only did I lack the language to describe my situation, but so did everybody else. All I knew is that there was more to Juliet than a girl who falls in love with a family foe; there was a young woman who craved to liberate herself from her family’s containment in order to pursue a more novel life. Due to societal pressure to please others before herself, her option was to take her own life—an emboldening statement of redemption and salvation. This is not uncommon in many lives of trans women and trans femmes. In 2014, Cincinnati, Ohio, a 17 year old transgender girl named Leelah Alcorn stepped in front of a tractor trailer on Interstate-71 after posting a suicide note online saying “My death needs to mean something.” In her note, she mentions “When I was 16 I realized that my parents would never come around, and that I would have to wait until I was 18 to start any sort of transitioning treatment, which absolutely broke my heart.” In Leelah’s heartbreak I see the story of Juliet—a suicide not driven from love, but driven from social abuse that prevents the embrace of and ability to love. Adaptability of transgender stories into mainstream stories is possible.

           I dream of transness in theatrical spaces to be acknowledged, not as a cause for muse or a reason of dismissal. I dream of this phenomenon of theatre as a safe space for LGBTQ+ people beyond cis, white, gay, flamboyant men. I dream of trans girls and trans femmes of color like me celebrated on stage as much as we do advocacy off stage. I dream of people who hold power in theatre to mobilize their privileges, and hold themselves accountable to take it further to tell stories that matter, stories that marinate in truth, stories that can impact the audience yet provide benefits for those involved, because it is the right thing and it is doable if you care enough.

           Make them happen. If the show must go on, do not leave some of us behind.

Forever this time.

“I Can’t Lose Her” - Kian Lawley Imagine

Request:  Your imagines are my favorite btw! Can you do an imagine where some of our friends are at the house watching a movie and even though you and kian aren’t together you start ‘teasing eachother’ under the blanket and Jc gets suspicious THANK YOU

‘Everyone, be quiet now!’ Sam said when the movie that we were about to watch started playing. 

Kian and the rest of the guys asked me if I wanted to come over and watch a movie with them. Since I had nothing in planI accepted their invitation.
I love spending time with all of them at the same time, but that doesn’t happen very often since everyone has a busy schedule. The guys travel a lot and I’m still in college so it’s hard to find time to hang out with all of them even though I spend the most time with Kian. All of the guys are my best friends, but with Kian I have some kind of really special relationship. I’m definitely the closest with him and it’s really hard to explain our relationship. A lot of people sometimes think that we’re together, but we just love each other maybe a little bit more than other best friends do. 

‘Shhh, it’s starting.’ Jc said who was sitting on the floor with his back leaned on the couch. Sam and Trevor were also sitting on the floor like Jc, Ricky and Connor on the one side of the couch and Kian and I were laying under a blanket on the other side of the couch. My back was pressed against his body and he had his arm around my waist and chin on my shoulder. 

‘You good?’ He asked quietly. 

‘Mhm’ I murmured.

An hour later…

‘Oh my God, this is so cute.’ I said at the scene where Jason was comforting his girlfriend Lilly with whom he ran away. Her parents didn’t let her be with him because they hated his parents. Lilly’s parents even threatened her if she keeps seeing him that they’ll send her to her aunt in London (btw Lilly lived in New York). Basically, they said they’ll do anything just to break them apart so they had no choice but to run away together. Currently, they were staying at Jason’s friend’s apartment in Philadelphia. Lilly was concerned about the whole situation that they were in so he was comforting her. 

‘Tipical love story.’ Kian said. 

‘I want someone to love me like this.’ I said quietly. 

‘Well, I love you.’ He said making me blush a little. 

‘I know, but that’s not the same.’ 

‘Yeah, it is. I love you even more than he loves her.’ Kian said making me chuckle quietly a little. 


‘What?’ He laughed in my neck. ‘Would you run away with me?’ He asked quietly just for me to hear it. 

‘What?’ I asked surprised. 

‘Would you run away with me if I asked you to?’ 

‘I don’t know. Why would you want to run away with me? We don’t have a reason to run away, they do.’ I said.

‘We don’t need one. We could just do it.’ 

‘You’re crazy.’ I said. 

‘So you wouldn’t?’ He asked. ‘Alright.’ He said unwrapping his arms from around me. 

‘Kiaan’ I whined pulling his arms back and putting them to the place they were before. ‘Stop. You know I would.’ I whispered. 

‘You would?’ He asked and I nodded. He smiled and kissed my cheek bringing me even closer to his body if that was even possible. 

An hour later…

I guess I fell asleep during the film because I was woken up by quiet talk between Kian and Jc.

‘You still haven’t answered my question.’ Jc said quietly probably so that he doesn’t wake me up. I was curious what they were talking about so I just kept pretending that I was asleep.

‘What?’ Kian said nervously.

‘What’s that between you and y/n?’

‘What are you talking about?’ Kian asked.

‘Dude, c’mon, don’t play stupid. Like I didn’t see all that cuddling and hear your small talk and all that cute shit that COUPLES do.’ Jc said.

‘Jc, we’re just…very very close best friends.’ He said slowly caressing my arm under the blanket.

‘Yeah, sure. You love her, don’t you?’

‘I do, a lot.’ He said and my heart started beating faster.

‘Do you have, you know like, feelings for her?’ Jc asked again.

‘I-I don’t know..I think I do, but you know..’

‘Why don’t you tell her? I’m like 95% sure that she has feelings for you too.’ Truth.

‘I don’t want to ruin our friendship. I don’t want anything to change. I can’t lose her, Jc.’ Kian said playing with my hair.

Oh, God, he has feelings for me?

‘You two are made for each other, trust me.’ Jc said making Kian smile.

‘I wish she thinks the same.’

If you only knew.

‘Man, I’m tired. I’m gonna go to bed.’ Jc said getting up. ‘Goodnight’

‘Night, man.’ Kian said as Jc left.

I turned on the other side to face Kian. I wraped my arms around him and said quietly ‘You won’t ruin anything and nothing will change. You’ll never lose me, no matter what.’ I looked up at him smiling and his mouth fell open.

‘I-I..’ He sighed and then closed his eyes and smiled. ‘I love you, y/n.’

‘I love you too.’ I said and lifted myself up a little and kissed him.

(Jared Leto)Joker x Reader - Deadly Voice (Part 2)

Hi guys - sorry it took a little while - but its done, I’m not sure I’m completely happy with it (though will I ever be?). I apologize for it being sooo long and having so little Joker - if you bare with me there will be more! Let me know if I should keep going - all comments welcome (positive or negative!) I need to know!

(if you haven’t heard the song (or at least not recently - I highly recommend it!)

Thank you guys soooo much for reading I really appreciate it!


I finished my song confidently and with a smile.

I then stepped back from the microphone with a smile and made my way to my bottle of water that Jack had placed for me on the floor on the left side of the stage.

As I lent down to pick up my water I slipped my hand under the over-sized curtain where it pooled on the stage floor and picked up my device – a simple set of 4 buttons on a remote which I had hid at the start of the show.

I discretely slipped it into my hand so it was out of sight and righted myself with the water bottle. I allowed people to observe me sipping my water before screwing the lid back on and placing it back on the floor causally.

I doubted any people were watching me - most having taken the break from the live music to grab a new drink or move a bit to the interval club music bouncing out the speakers. But I wanted to play it safe in case anyone glanced my way – who knew where the Joker was looking or what eyes he had around – and I didn’t want anything to go wrong tonight.

I moved to the back of the stage and poked my head behind the curtain to speak to the sound crew crouched over their equipment fiddling with dials and buttons.

“Hey guys, number 9 next, yeah?”

“Sure”, “Yeah” they mumbled, glancing at me quickly and giving me a nod as they then turned back.

I knew why they looked so anxious and were concentrating hard on the system in front of them – they always did when the boss was in. If something went wrong he always found out who it was – even if what went wrong was only a slightly too long gap between the first song and the next.

I felt bad for them too – like the dancers from the previous set, they always tried their hardest but slight mistakes were always bound to occur – let’s just say there were three of them a month ago…

I made my way back to the microphone and adjusted it slightly, moving my hair around a bit as I waited for the guys behind the curtain to put the right track. I tried not to look in his direction; I kept my eyes down pretending to fiddle with the microphone as if it was important. I didn’t like making eye contact with him – I felt like he might read my plan in my eyes.

My tune began – Funhouse by Pink.

“I dance around this empty house,

Tear us down,

Throw you out,

Screaming down the halls

Spinning all around and now we fall.” I sang


I got my device ready in my hand – my finger over the first button

“I’m gonna burn it down

Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, fun

As I sang the last word I pushed my finger down on the first button on the remote discretely.


I could almost hear it happen in my head – though I knew there was no way I could hear it from where it was in the offices above us – they were sound proofed against the club sounds below. No one would be able to hear it, not over the volume of the music – I just had to pray it really did go off.

I continued on with the song trying to appear unphased.

“Echoes knocking on locked doors

All the laughter from above

I’d rather live out on the street

Than in this haunted memory”


I adjusted my hand to the next button

“I’m gonna burn it down

Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, fun.”

I pressed the second button. Did I hear something from the storage room below? Or was it just the paranoia?

“Do do do do dodo do - Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one

The next button was hit, but I just kept singing – “Do do do do dodo do.”

I had definitely felt vibrations that time and did I smell smoke? Had it got warmer in here? Were people putting it down to the loud beat and the heat from the dancing and crowded space?

I couldn’t over think this too much – I had to act as if everything was fine but I could feel the sweat dampening my forehead and I knew it wasn’t from over-exertion and I could feel myself being choked up.

“This used to be a fun house

But now it’s full of evil clowns”

(I winked playfully in the Joker’s direction)

“It’s time to start the countdown

I’m gonna burn it down, down, down

I’m gonna burn it down”



I had pushed the last button and felt a tear roll down my cheek as the last explosions occurred - coming from either side of the room- drowning out the relentless noise from the crowd and the entire building seemed to shake. The ceiling lights flickered menacingly as the electrics were hit and plaster fell down in showers. The air was pierced with girls’ screams and the crowd began to bunch together in the middle of the floor.

Above all of this chaos I heard only one sound – the Joker’s roar of anger.

It was time to leave.

I spun on one foot and ran down the stage to the staff corridor, avoiding the mass of people now scattering in random directions searching for the quickest way out.

Some people noticed me make toward the staff door and followed, elbowing me out the way as they saw the same opportunity. I gasped as a particularly hard shoulder shove to my side caused me to collide with the wall causing the air to be knocked out of me.

I gritted my teeth and continued on – I just needed to get out of here even if it meant elbowing my own fair share of people.

Smoke was building in the room as I clawed my way into the corridor and sprinted past my dressing room and toward the heavy back door.

The wall to my right began to crumble and I threw myself forward toward the exit.

“Ahhh!” I cried out in pain as I felt a chunk of wall collide with my right leg causing me to hit the floor with a jolt - my arms out to protect me - but my head still colliding with the floor.

Tears sprung to my eyes and my forehead seared with pain as I lifted my head up. I pushed myself to my feet and I could feel a burning on the inside of left leg and a warm liquid running down my calf.

The pain was incredible but I couldn’t stop to examine myself as I saw the flicker of flames from where the wall had collapsed.

Using the adrenaline pulsing through my blood I rapidly limped on. The door area had yet to be damaged and seemed stable. I threw the heavy fir door open with my remaining strength and stumbled into the alleyway behind the club. The cold air hit me like a gunshot and caused me to pause - I hadn’t even thought I would need a coat – I shook my head ‘why are you thinking about this now – it’s not important! Maybe you hit your head worse then you thought!’

I could feel my adrenaline wearing off and my energy rapidly draining with the blood from my leg.

I saw people who had pushed past me disappear around the corner of the alleyway into the street joining others that had found another way out. I was relieved to see the dancers running together down the middle of the road and the sound crew pulling each other forward, though one seemed to be cradling his arm.

Behind me the back door swung open violently and a cloud of smoke erupted into the air as a few desperate stragglers blindly slammed into me and my legs gave way easily.

My dress provided no protection as my knees collided with the ground and I gasped in pain as I grazed the palms of my hands along the floor in an attempt to catch myself.

I blinked back more tears as I peered at the scrapes that began to ooze blood. As I lay there I questioned whether to move – do I give up now? Let the rubble fall around me and just forget the pain?

But I knew I couldn’t – I couldn’t think like that – those thoughts were a rabbit hole I didn’t want to fall down.

I knew I needed to get myself far away and safe and so I pushed myself up, using the less sensitive parts of my hands and my good leg to somehow juggle myself to my feet. I stumbled on, often having to catch myself when a particular step caused too much pain to rush up my injured leg.

Soon, after only a few steps, it became too much and I had to clutch the adjacent wall in the alley way. I rested my head against the stained bricks as I felt light headed and hugged the wall, desperately trying to pull myself to the end of the alley way where at least someone might see me and help.

I was breathing deeply through my nose to stop the world tilting so much, but instead my head became heavy and I felt my balance go and the floor rushed to meet me.

I closed my eyes and felt the cold dirty floor on my cheek. The cold was cooling against my cheek and the taste of iron filled me mouth where I had bitten my tongue on the fall.

I was fed up of dragging myself back up off the floor – I felt like this night had summed up my whole life – a plan, an action, but it always resulted in me, alone, having to pick myself back up off the floor over and over again.

I took short shallow breaths and the cobbled floor soon began to feel like the softest cushion and it wasn’t long before I couldn’t fight off my eyelids anymore.

Did I hear footsteps – was that a dark figure hanging over me – was that rough hands under my arms and a low voice?

Was I hallucinating?

MICHAEL: Didn’t I say we don’t talk about Pete?

RUBY: You mean Mike Makowski? That guy that used to pretend he’s a vampire?
RUBY: Haha, no. I’d know about something like that and would’ve reported it already!
RUBY: You know, I’m the eyes and ears of South Park!
RUBY: Wait. Really?!

RUBY: Seriously? I thought you guys hate each other.

anonymous asked:

I bet your not even really autistic. I know your kind.

guess i pretended to be autistic when i was in the 1st grade when i didn’t even know what that was huh? guess i kept pretending until the 7th grade when my teacher brought it up to my parents again, and i guess i continued to pretend until i finally got diagnosed in 8th. damn. you caught me :/