this is why we need confidential

Turtles and Teasing » Mark Lee

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summary: (1) i was wondering if you could do any type of boyfriend mark lee scenario? (2) could I please request a Mark fluff where he’s just consoling and making you feel better by taking you out around town to get your mind off of stress? Just like cute couple stuff that aren’t like cliché?
words: 771
category: fluff + blurb
a/n: for his birthday!! mark has been a huge inspiration to me this past year in terms of being a hard worker and achieving your dreams. i hope he has a great birthday and can see how much nctzens care for him ^ ^

Originally posted by markleetrashh


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from: mark
hey, can i come over?
[sent 10:12 pm]

from: mark
y/n?
[sent 10:30 pm]

from: mark
are you okay?
[sent 10:37 pm]

from: mark
i’m coming ober
[sent 10:40 pm]

from: mark
over*
[sent 10:40 pm]

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Here we go, an update!

“Disturbing, these findings are.” Master Yoda’s ears droop slightly, as his clawed hand gently lays the datapad he held back on the table.

“That’s the least you can call it.” Mace massages his temples and breathes deeply and evenly. The sheer magnitude of the discovery is enough to stop one’s breath. “How have we missed this?”

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Bleeding Love

Expansion of Trying to leave him

Versions:

B.A.P: Part I, Part II, Part III ; BTS: Part I, Part II, Part III; EXO: Part I, Part II, Part III; Got7: {coming soon}; Monsta X: Part I, Part II, Part III ; Dean: {Coming soon}

Genre: Angst

Characters: Junmyeon x Original Character [Minji]

Summary: You ran away from him when you found out his secret in the gang, but he refused to let you go. He would have you. Dead or alive.

Word Count: 2032

Credit to gif owner

xoxo

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Imagine going to Hogwarts a couple years after the Battle.

Imagine being sorted into Slytherin, not knowing what to really expect after hearing only terrible things on the train to school. Image the quiet acceptance by many, the louder, brash comments by others. Image getting to the Common Room after dinner, and seeing the quiet elegance that takes over the somber room. The glass walls, giving a view of the lake from inside, the beautiful serenity that takes place on the other side. The hidden details in artworks, in candles and chandeliers, in the woodwork of tables and chair legs. Yes, there’s an extravagance to them: it’s all fine marble and porcelain, all the hype of nobility. But there’s the quiet side to it all.

Imagine being pulled aside by one of the louder voices from the Great Hall. Being told “we have a reputation, it’s true. But many of us only did what we were being told to do. Many of us were afraid to do otherwise. How many of our parents sided with the Voldemort? How many of them slunk off at his defeat, were never caught? That fifth year over there? Disowned and thrown out of their home after their parents found out they sided with the school. And that third year? Their parents died in the battle.” Just finding out the stories behind the other students, behind this House noted for dark wizards. Some did turn dark, but so many were forgotten, solely for their House’s reputation, and you can’t help but wonder, what good people may have been lost due to harsh words. Taking that knowledge, and setting yourself to change the House’s reputation, turning it from racism and pain, to pride and change.

Imagine being sorted into Gryffindor, the House every first year wants to get into? The riotous cheering, the show that happens. Imagine entering the Common Room, expecting parties and cheers, but finding a sort of sombriety that screams. There is the warmth, the fire in the hearth crackling away. But there, on the mantle, and on tables to both sides, sit a sort of shrine. Pictures, tokens, flowers enchanted to never wilt, letters. Some images wave, or offer sad shrugs. Others stand still, a moment captured in time, smiles never faultering.

Imagine standing there, staring. Imagine a quiet voice at your side, a seventh year. “Those are only some of the students we lost. We keep the memorials the best we can. The older students who died aren’t there. These are the younger ones, the ones who would have been still in school. When they reach what would have been their last year here, we send their relatives all the things that were left for them. Doesn’t matter what House they were, either.” Imagine learning that not all courage is bravado and danger. That sometimes the hardest courage to hold in your heart is the memory and duty to others. You listen for hours, about all these students. Stories, names. You find yourself at the end, smiling and crying like everyone else, knowing that they may be lost, but they weren’t forgotten.

Imagine being sorted into Ravenclaw. You know what was said, that you must be the smartest ones, the ones that are clever and booksmart. There’s quiet, almost calculated applause, and you are welcomed honestly, but a little cold. Imagine getting to the Common Room, expecting much of the same, but among the brilliant blue and bronze, there’s a feverish commotion. Ink splatters much of any surface. Papers are pinned up over everything. Books litter every surface, and mugs of tea, coffee, cocoa cover anything not already taken up. People are shouting, quills writing so furiously they snap within minutes.

A second year grins at you, understanding your sudden overwhelming. “We were like this too, last year. All these papers? Research. Proposals. Petitions. We may not be fighters, but sometimes the toughest battles are the bloodless ones.” You find out all the details: one of their family members told them about some of the paperwork almost submitted and passed through the Ministry of Magic. The House decided at a whole that it wouldn’t stand for that, not at all. Thus began years of work, drafting reforms while still in school. “A fresher memory of things that came to pass,” they say. “Knowing how words can be twisted.” Studious does not mean uncombative, you realize, as you take up your own quill and parchment, your own sword and shield, and join the battle.

Imagine being in Hufflepuff, sorted into the House most frequently mocked. Useless, boring. And though the others mock you, the reception is the warmest, sweetest thing, like your favorite treat, freshly made, just for you. Imagine coming into the bright warmth and homeliness of the Common Room, and noting the quiet corners, glittering with spells and sigils. You notice the students wearing other House colors, speaking with older students of your own House.

“We have never been broken into,” says the fourth year, showing you around. “Only House not to. Doesn’t mean we don’t take in others that need it. We have so many wonderful Hufflepuff alumni, too humble to accept lavish praise. We are the quiet House, yes, but that’s why we’re needed.” They explain to you what they’ve started doing. “We have no counselors at the school, we rely so much on magic…sometimes magic is the last thing you need. We do that. We offer advice, if they want it. Mostly just a lending ear, or a hug, or just someone you can go to and sit in silence with. And we never tell anyone else what we’re told. Confidentiality, you see. We’re loyal. And if we find out that someone has been awful to one of the people we see here? Well. Badgers have teeth and claws, after all.” And you learn that loyal and hardworking doesn’t mean pushover. It means ferocity and caring, and you can’t help but think that a badger may be the best symbol for this House after all.

Imagine Hogwarts, after the Battle. Imagine how they only ask you sit with your House during the Sorting feast and the last feast of the year. Imagine how students make friends between Houses, and you can find groups of students talking with each other. How classes are smoother now, with all the Houses working together to study and work on projects and research. Imagine how the school changes for the better, and the professors look on with pride. Imagine how, somewhere in the school, the Founders’ portraits all look to each other, smiles wide, because after all this time, they finally get it. They finally get what it all means.

My sister’s thoughts while watching eyewitness:

• She loved Tyler (not that I was surprised, she’s got a type)
• every time Ryan appeared “no nOO NOT YOU AGAIN”
• Helen lost a lot of cookie points in the last few episodes but by the end she was loving her again
• Gabe as BestFatherOfTheYear™
• “Tony I love you but for fuck’s sake sTOP GIVING OUT CONFIDENTIAL INFORMATION TO PEOPLE!”
• during the finale: “Anne no no no nOO”
• “Lukas’ hair was so fake honestly please let him have his natural hair colour next time”
• during the sex scene: “oh my god they’re..? They’re doing it??? Isn’t Lukas in pain??? Stop! Guys no, no, ahi, painful, stop trying to take his shirt off he jUST GOT SHOT!”
• “ok I love this tv show and I’m gonna scream if we don’t get season 2
• but
• everything
• is
• liteRaLLY
• BLACK AND WHITE?????
• who was in charge?? Why did they decide the show needed to be this grey blob???”

So all in all I can say she loved it and she is now a true eyewitness fan.
Mission accomplished.

madwriterscorner  asked:

Imagine Jamie visiting a modern supermarket and being shocked at the amount of food available and how easy it is to now feed yourself

Flood my Mornings: Aisles

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment: Not Yet (Jamie and Claire discuss modern contraception…and how long they’ll need it) 


September, 1950


Jamie stood entranced in the middle of the aisle, staring blankly at the sheer wealth of food surrounding him, enough to bury him a dozen times over. 

For that moment, he felt nothing but disgust.

Claire had said as much herself, a moment ago. “This is more modern and plentiful than what you’d find in Scotland or even England, these days. They’re still on war rations, you know,” she’d said, selecting a small bag of dried peas. “It’s a bit revolting, if I’m being honest–all this bounty when there are millions starving around the world, but,” she’d shrugged, “it’s here, and it certainly makes things simple.”

Aye, simple. 

The simplicity of unending plenty. 

The simplicity of more than enough money to partake of it.

The simplicity of a life without famine. 

He ran his fingers lightly, slowly, over rows of boxed rices and grains, feeling burning in his throat and ache in his heart. What wouldn’t he give? What agony would he not suffer to see a one-thousandth share of this abundance delivered to Lallybroch? To shower Jenny and Ian’s weans in more food than they could eat in a week? To see Jenny’s hollowed cheeks grow full and rosy once more?To see their faces at sight of the cakes and sweeties? Christ, only to see them…

Ye canna help them, he chided himself, bowing his head. Give thanks, man. Give thanks for your own full belly. Give thanks that Claire and Brianna are safe and fed. 

Lord, that they might be safe: my sister and her family.

“Da-aaaa?”

He snapped his head up toward the end of the aisle where wee Brianna’s face was craned around Claire’s elbow from her seat in the rolling cart. Despite the sadness still hanging like fog over his heart, Jamie couldn’t help but snort with laughter at the sight: the tiny blue bow on a clasp that Claire used to hold back the lass’s curls from her face was now dangling from the very tip of her forelock, bobbing jauntily against her jaw.

“Daaaaa?” Brianna wailed again, urging him to haste. The word transformed into a squawk as Claire pushed the handcart around the corner and caused them to disappear from view.

Jamie walked hastily forward, placing a hand lightly on the brim of his grey hat to keep it slipping off, shoes squeaking on the gleaming floor as he hurried toward the sounds of Bree’s calling for him, and Claire’s, “Oh for heaven’s sake, Bree, hush, he’s right behind us!” Brianna did not quiet even remotely until Jamie had reappeared, despite Claire’s best efforts. “Jesus H. Christ, I am so very ready for this phase of separation anxiety to run its course,” his wife said under her breath.

Jamie stooped to reaffix Brianna’s bow (Ms. Byrd called it a Barrette). “There you are, a chuisle. That’s better, aye?” 

Brianna misinterpreted his bending down as an intention to lift her out of the seat. When he failed to meet this expectation, she glared and made insistent noises at him, raising her hands up to him.

He gave her a steely eye and a raised brow. “Use words, Brianna. What would you like?”

She changed her tack at once, beaming angelically up at him. “Up-Da-peas?”

Much better,” he said gently, lifting his daughter up into his arms. On impulse he tossed her up high over his head and caught her again. 

For a moment, he thought she was going to start crying: her eyes had widened and she looked completely stunned from the suddenness of the motion. Then, she cackled uproariously and demanded, “Um’gin!!”

He obliged, giving two or three more tosses before nestling her back down under his chin and kissing her head. He stood swaying for a minute before noticing the strange looks he was receiving with nearly all the other shopgoers in view. One woman, who was standing a mere ten feet away, was actually glaring at him.

Months or even weeks before, he might have reddened and gone quiet, not wishing to attract further attention. Instead, he met the woman’s eyes with a graceful nod and said boldly, “May I be of some assistance to ye, madame?”

The woman gave a great huff, a scandalized, “Really!” and turned her back.

Claire was doing her best to keep from laughing, hiding her face in the cart as she set two loaves of bread within. 

Jamie gave a weary kind of noise. “I dinna have manure on my nose, do Sassenach?”

She gave a small sigh herself as she straightened up. I think the usual supermarket biddies aren’t used to seeing fathers here…least of all a father being openly affectionate to his daughter.”

Jamie snorted derisively. “They’d rather I shouted at her? Or pretended she wasna there?”

“Who bloody knows? I’m not often here myself, to be honest, God-Bless-Penelope-Byrd.

“God-Bless-Penelope-Byrd, indeed,” he agreed, kissing Bree again and smiling sweetly at the judgmental passersby. ‘Twas better than giving them a swift kick in the arses, nasty wee besoms. 

Together, while Claire gathered her selections, Jamie and Bree walked around the cases of fruits and vegetables, as ordered and gleaming as jewel-bright honeycombs. Given that Brianna was of the age where she gave the name of everything in sight (often ad nauseum), he pointed at the pile of potatoes Claire was sorting through. “D’ye ken what this is, a leannan?”

“Tay-toe!”came the prompt answer.

“Aye, po-tato, verra good. And in the Gaelic,” he said, switching to that language, “’tis buntàta. Can ye say that, wee love?”

“Mmm-ta-duh!”

Buntàta

“Bmm-ta-rra!”

Buntàta

“🎶Let’s-call-the-whole-thing-off🎶” Claire sang–-yes, sang! “Oh, never you mind,” she laughed when she saw his face, she carrying blithely on selecting onions and leeks as if it were perfectly natural to break into song with no explanation. 

As it turned out, Brianna proved to be as helpful to Jamie as he was to her when it came to naming the produce before them. For all his travel, education, and general knowledge of the world, he genuinely did not know the answer when he pointed at a huge, green-striped thing and asked. “And what is this, a chuisle?

“Warrr-men-in!” she squealed, lurching forward in his arms to reach for it.

“No, cub, we dinna need that,” he said, pulling her away. Christ, the thing seemed large and heavy enough to crush her! “Is that right, Sassenach? Warmennin?”

“Watermelon,” she corrected, smiling fondly. “They’re sweet and very juicy– perfect in summer!” She selected one and plunked it into the cart.

“Ye dinna need to buy one for my sake, Claire. I was just curi–”

“And why ever not?” she said, with a shrug and a twinkle of the eye, adjusting her handbag and giving his arm a playful tweak. “Live a little, why don’t you!”

“D’ye hear that, Bree?” Jamie said, shifting her up closer to his mouth so he could whisper all confidential-like: “Mama says we can have all the sweeties we desire!”

Brianna raised both hands and gave a cheer. Claire raised both eyebrows and gave a splutter of laughter. “Why you absolute scoundrel! I said no such thing!”

“But as we’re ‘living a little,’ mo nighean donn, I think we’d all feel more alive wi’ a wee bit of chocolate, aye?”


(The chocolate cake made an excellent final course to their rather eclectic backyard meal of Cock-a-leeky soup; crusty bread, purchased and then warmed in the oven with butter and garlic; two exceptional wines that Jamie agonized in choosing from the available multitude; for Bree, some alarmingly-green wriggly stuff called Jello; ….and Watermelon, all washed down with Coca-Cola).



to be continued

Stanford Essay Advice Part 1 (requested)

DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT AN ADMISSIONS OFFICER AND THIS IS MY PERSONAL OPINION, WHICH IS NOT COMPLETELY BASED ON FACT. (EDIT) I WROTE THIS WHEN I WAS DEFERRED FROM STANFORD AND SINCE THEN I HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED TO THE SCHOOL. I AM WRITING THIS ON THE REQUEST OF SOME ANONS.

Alright! Let’s get down to business.

Overall, there’s some good news and some bad news. The good news is that it is possible to get into Stanford mainly because of your essays or to offset less desirable parts of your application (such as lower scores, etc etc) with awesome essays. The bad news is that there is no silver bullet when it comes to essay writing.

Overall, there are 5 Stanford supplementals- the Extracurricular Essay, the Short Answer Questions, the Intellectual Vitality Essay, the Letter to Your Future Roommate Essay, and What Matters to You and Why.

Yes theres a crap ton of essays to do, but if you play your cards right, this could definitely work to your advantage.

In this post I’m going to break down a vague approach to each one. In the next few posts I make, I’ll be more specific with each essay.

But before we start, we should probably discuss intellectual vitality! This term is thrown around pretty much everywhere, from the dreaded College Confidential (yuck), to Stanford’s own website. Hell, you even need to write an essay about it!

So what is it? Intellectual Vitality basically means you love to learn and learn only for the sake of learning. Basically you took those 15 billion AP classes because you love them (just kidding). Having intellectual vitality is super super important to Stanford. Its one of the qualifications with which they judge their students and is something you really want to emphasize in your essays.

So lets get down to the essays! These are the notes that I used to help me guide my own essay writing so hopefully it will be helpful.

Extracurricular Essay:

The extracurricular essay, while usually pretty short, is a great opportunity to show your passion, dedication, leadership, community involvement, and initiative. The main purpose of this essay is to bolster one of your Common Application activities. Bonus points if you can express your intellectual vitality and leadership skills!

Short Answer Questions:

Honestly, just don’t lie about anything and be real with them. No one wants to see that your favorite books are the English Dictionary and every single Shakespearian classic. Make yourself real to them, and make them like you. Here you have a great opportunity to let your personality shine through. Some great advice for this section is to think of the Stanford band. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen them but they have PERSONALITY and PANACHE. Try and embody them while writing these (remember: its hard to go wrong with these if you’re telling the truth)

Intellectual Vitality Essay:

They spelled it out for you! Try and find an instance in which you have expressed some form of intellectual vitality. Remember, it doesn’t need to be winning some sort of National Award to make it an interesting essay- in fact that sounds like a pretty boring essay. I know people who have written about everything from socks to mouthguards and gotten in. I would say that this essay tends to be more serious but if you can think of something fun and interesting (I read a great one about a Halloween costume) then go for it. Your goals for this essay should be to show your passion, intellectualism (again, does not have to be intellectualism in the traditional sense- it could be by the way you relate things) and yet again, to get them like you and your personality.

Letter to Your Roommate:

This is an interesting one because you can really go in pretty much any direction. But again, don’t feel too pressured by the format. You could describe yourself like a RPG game character card or as a car or really anything. You just want to make them like you and tell them a bit about yourself that they won’t know (and tying in details about Stanford won’t hurt). The only things to be careful with in this essay are being too casual/formal and writing about illegal/inappropriate stuff. Have fun with it!

What Matters to You and Why:

Just be honest! I know its really really popular to do an extended metaphor for these (look up the infamous ice cream and lasagna essays haha) but I would just go with what seems right. Don’t force it and let it come naturally. This essay is supposed to help them understand some of your values so make sure you don’t spend all your time on the what matters- if anything the why should be the focus of your essay. Just be careful with how controversial you go since if you ever come across as bigoted or intolerant, I’ve heard they throw out your app!

Overall I would say emphasize your personality (its hard to go too quirky with this school), intellectual vitality and make yourself seem like a really likable person. The admissions officers are on your side! And don’t read example essays until AFTER you write your first draft. That way you can use them to guide your revisions. Stay tuned for more posts :)

15 Hours Sherlock X Reader

I really had fun with this one <3

Words:1200+

—–

You rolled your suitcase out of your door. The air was dark and cold, not yet touched by the sun. The only sounds were the faint humming coming from a street light that was flickering about 25 feet away from you and the sound of the wheels on your suitcase coming in contact with the bumps in the sidewalk. A car pulled up and you opened the trunk and inserted your suitcase. You hopped into the backseat and greeted your friends. Well, friend and foe.

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WHAT IS THE TRUTH. (fic)

FANDOM: Bleach

CHARACTERS/PAIRING: IchiRuki, Yachiru, Nemu

SUMMARY: When Ichigo’s knee becomes injured, the means of how becomes a hot scandal… Or at least. Yachiru intends to make it that way. Crack fic.

A/N: Bruh I don’t even know where this came from but lololol originally inspired by @deathberryprompts’ prompt last week “shattered,” but carried over to this week’s “excuses.”  AU where Ichigo is Rukia’s vice captain, Yachiru and Nemu still exist, the Karakura gang come in and out of Soul Society to learn stuff and things and EVERYTHING IS AS IT SHOULD BE BASICALLY. 

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Good for you pt.3 - Taehyung AU

There was a popular demand for a part 3, specifically a happy one. I’m so sorry to disappoint!  Don’t hate me too much after reading this, you can save that for Part 4 (the final part)! I love you all omg. I feel so bad for all the Taehyung stans because omg I made him so horrible. I’m so sorry I am so angsty. I LOVE YOU PLEASE ENJOY THIS BEFORE YOU KILL ME!

(Part one, two, four)

- V♥


The day was losing it’s light, and the bounce in your step was beginning to tire out. Lazily, you parked in the garage adjacent to Mr. Kim’s car and locked it. Clumsily, you made it up the steps and into the house, kicking the heels off your sore feet and sighing.

“Well look who it is, Mrs. Kim. Mind telling me why the fuck you were out today with Park Jimin. You know he’s my rival y/n, sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a goddamn brick wall. Why are you trying to make me look bad?” His voice was stern and on the verge of cracking. You hated it when he got so lost in his anger that his face began to redden. The prominent vein in his neck bulged and his eyes were dark.

“He invited me to lunch, that’s all.” Unfazed by his anger you spoke calmly.

“Just lunch? So you think I wouldn’t find out that you’re fucking my rival business partner? Who the hell do you think I am y/n, you can’t be that stupid.”

“Like I said it was just lunch, I’ve never slept with him. You of all people should be able to read the signs, since you’re an expert cheater.” You snapped back, throwing your purse onto the sofa in one swift motion. His stance got more intense as his fists hardened. He looked about ready to punch you if you made one faulty move.

“Who do you think you’re talking to? Watch it.” He inched closer, but not enough to harm you. Pulling your hair out of the ponytail, you did not have the urge to fight. You’d been fighting way too long, it lot all of its meaning. Fighting wasn’t going to give you your husband or your life back.

“I honestly don’t know anymore. I’ll just leave then.”

“That’s rich, and where the hell do you think you’re going? To Jimin? Have fun, what’s he gonna offer you that I can’t?” His chuckle was dark; dark enough to send shivers up your spine, to grasp to your body and shake you until you realized you had no life without him. Their was nothing to gain or to lose, this relationship was a lost cause.

“There’s nothing to gain from Jimin. There’s nothing more that I can lose.” Tears threatened your eyes as your back turned once again. You felt like a runner, there was no point in staying in a fight you’d never win. This marriage was a downward spiral turning from bad to worse in a matter of minutes. There was nothing left to fight for, Taehyung was too far gone.

-

*Jimin’s POV*

The night sky was calm and the stars gently poked through the navy. A breeze found its way through his open window, which slightly blew his hair back. He was content, that was before a rasp at his door disturbed him.

Almost annoyed he yelled “Coming”. Jimin’s heart sank into his stomach as he opened the door onto a familiar face. Y/n’s eyes were stained with tears and her hair was messily hung in front of her face. It was too soon, or so he thought, that she would come running to him of all people. Mrs. Kim was nothing more to him than a way to get information on the rival company, but why did he feel so damn bad when she showed up at his doorstep broken. He was using a distressed housewife for his own personal gain, to knock her husband’s company out of their game. To get rid of the competition. She was nothing but pathetic to him a few hours earlier. Nothing but a good source of information, knowing she’d spill out all confidential information to him in her time of need. Why did right now, in this moment feel so different?

“I know we aren’t anything but acquaintances, but do you think it’d possible if I stay here for the night? I didn’t really have any other place to go.” Her skin was pale and seemed so lost for a women who used to be on top of the world. Could Taehyung had really broken her like this? 

Jimin had to admit that even he, himself had cheated on past girlfriends, but it wasn’t like this. This was much more. The business world was very tough to get along in. Bribes, affairs, scandals, it was hard for anyone to handle. Men were constantly being seduced by women, women who wanted to get their way. All thoughts of life at home were thrown out the window when a hot young women was in your lap practically begging to be touched, Jimin knew this all too well. He was a man and understood Mr. Kim in that sense. Yet, he felt like he could hurt him for making y/n cry the way he did, for breaking her spirit.

He didn’t say much but let her enter and sat her on the sofa bringing her a glass of water. She cried again and explained the entire situation. There was no way she was going back to Taehyung.

-

Days were flying by in seconds like blinks. Her smile was beginning to reappear and things got harder. She was too afraid to go back home, but she couldn’t stay forever, or could she? She was actually quite a pleasure to have around. She cooked, and hummed. She wasn’t a nuisance and the time spent with her was talking. God, did they get lost in conversations. Jimin was growing fond, and Y/n was falling into the hero syndrome.

He sat at his desk filing important paper work. She joined him lifting the mood, her legs crossed on his desk as he fought the urge to look up at her. She was teasing about the workload again. 

“Taehyung never did paperwork like this.” she laughed looking at the papers.

“Yah, if you’re gonna be annoying go to a different room” Jimin whined trying to shoo her, but it was more an attempt to get himself to stop staring at her. 

“Don’t be like that, just take a break! We could watch a movie!”

She was always like this, trying to lighten the mood whenever it seemed tense. She was best at this. Jimin and Y/n had become the best of friends in her days with him. They gabbed each others ears off, and laughed at each other. It was innocent up until they got comfortable being half naked in the house, which was what she was currently practicing. Shorts and a silky pajama blouse that showed too much of her thighs and chest. Normally, Jimin would jump at this opportunity but she was different. He didn’t want to hurt her more than she already was.

She was asking for it, without even asking. Leaning closer, laughing at him, giving him the eyes, how could he possibly read these songs wrong. He knew that she was trying to do something, but it wasn’t going to work. Distressed females were simply not his style.

“Come on Jimin!” She let out another laugh, running her finger up his arm. It was tantalizing, a beautiful women in front of him and not being able to take action. Her smile was withering and her not getting her way was driving her crazy.

“Hey Jimin, can I ask you a question”, She all of a sudden got serious. “am I attractive?”

“Where’s this coming from?” 

“I Don’t know, sorry it was out of bounds to ask. I just, Taehyung hasn’t looked at me in over a year. I’ve always tried to get him to notice me, but I guess I’m just not what he was looking for.” Her eyes looked down at her thumbs playing with each other.

“That’s nonsense. You’re beautiful, I’m sure he wanted to, or at least thought about it.”

“You seem a little too sure about that.”

“I mean, what male is crazy enough to pass you up.”

“Does that include yourself?” The lust in her eyes grew as she hopped down from the desk. Jimin was most definitely her prey.

“Fuck it.” He sighed before his lips attached to hers. Grabbing on to her needy, His untrimmed fingernails dig into the skin of her thighs. Pulling her closer to him, she straddled him on the lap of his chair as her hands disappeared in his hair. She was different like this in front of him, she was unraveling. She needed this, but it felt like it had to be from him. She knew she was doing wrong, but in all the right ways. She was possibly hurting the love of her life, but she had no reason to wait for him. He’d already done her wrong. She had every right to move on. As Jimin’s lips ghosted over her collarbones, letting the small strap holding the blouse up fall, there was no way to back out. She had become just what she hated most, a cheat.

Contractstuck: AO3 | Tumblr

TAVROS: oH,
TAVROS: yOU’RE HERE,

JOHN: hi tavros!
JOHN: you’re home early.

TAVROS: uH, yES, tHAT’S TRUE,
TAVROS: wHY, dO YOU KNOW ENOUGH ABOUT MY SCHEDULE TO MAKE THAT OBSERVATION,

VRISKA: O8viously we’ve been hanging out.
VRISKA: John’s usually gone before you get 8ack, since you hardly come home 8efore dawn.
VRISKA: Was the Syndic8 low on work tonight or are you slacking off?

TAVROS: uHHH,
TAVROS: tHAT TOPIC, iS SUPPOSED TO BE ONE WE NEVER TALK ABOUT,

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janimoon  asked:

‘I’m pretty sure you don’t speak English but for some reason I’ve started telling you about my crappy days while we ride the elevator together and I don’t feel so alone anymore’ AU please? (and Sabriel, if you're taking ships too)

A/N: I know literally nothing about the process of becoming a lawyer in the US, so if it seems wrong it’s because it’s based on the Australian system (to the extent I actually know anything about that).

Sam really wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to the brother of his junkie neighbour (his weird junkie neighbour who woke Sam up singing Russian opera at four in the morning).

But there was no one else to talk to in his building with four empty apartments, him, and said junkie, and the junkie’s brother (Gabriel, Sam learned eventually after hearing the junkie calling him that) didn’t speak English. The junkie did, in bits and pieces- enough to tell Sam to fuck off when they passed in the halls, but other than that, Sam only heard the two of them conversing in their native tongue.

So unloading the stress of his day onto the guy was okay, right?

Sam hated that he was working such long, boring hours and still getting paid nothing. He’d graduated, with flying colours, and been told that he had to complete his clerkship unpaid. Weeks of frantic searching for a solution had yielded nothing, and eventually Sam had had to take the position he’d been offered.

At least he didn’t have to pay the firm for his first two years, like some of his less fortunate classmates.

It made for a stressful life of working two full time jobs while living in a hole in the ground even John would turn his nose up at and feeling like he was being suffocated.

Everything else in Sam’s life was being shoved aside just so he could stay afloat, and having somebody like Gabriel who he could rant to, even if the guy didn’t understand a word he said and wouldn’t be interested even if he did, was therapeutic.

The shorter man leaned against the elevator railing, listening to Sam almost yelling at him about his crappy life with an expression of mild disinterest while the ancient lift clanked its way up three stories.

It never seemed suspicious to Sam’s over-exhausted mind that Gabriel was always walking down the hall at the same time as him.

Or that the guy had never once tried to tell Sam he didn’t know what he was saying.

One day, after a particularly stressful week, Sam didn’t talk to Gabriel. Just collapsed against the wall with his head in his hands and stayed there until the doors reopened.

The next morning there was a basket of fresh cookies waiting outside his door, wrapped securely, so the rats wouldn’t get into them.

Lucifer glared at Sam like he wanted to knife him the next time they met. He mumbled something incoherent about “his cookie dough” and shuffled away.

The shared elevator rides, and Sam’s rants, had been going on almost every day for five months when the inevitable happened and the lift stopped dead halfway between floors 2 and 3.

Sam hit the button to alert… someone, hopefully, and pulled out his phone to leave a message on his landlord’s machine. There was, of course, no signal, because only one tiny windowsill in this entire complex had reliable phone reception.

Rent was due tomorrow, so if they were still in here by then the landlord would notice his money missing and come looking.

The thought wasn’t very comforting to Sam.

Deciding he may as well get comfortable, he sat down and stretched his legs out.

Gabriel, on the other hand, started pacing.

And kept pacing.

After fifteen minutes it started to irritate Sam. Especially since he couldn’t just tell Gabriel to lay off a little. The man had started swearing under his breath in mixed Russian and English- well, Lucifer certainly knew enough English swear words, and shouted them at Gabriel enough, that he’d probably picked some up- and was running his hands through his hair.

Another five minutes passed. Gabriel stopped dead in the middle of the tiny box they were trapped in.

‘This sucks,’ He announced. In English.

Sam looked up, eyes wide in horror.

‘Totally the way I wanted to spend my Sunday, stuck for hours in Luc’s nasty apartment building. It’s bad enough being here when I actually get to talk to him and make sure he’s alive.’

Sam had actually registered that his neighbour and his brother were worse off than him. It was one of the reasons he was glad Gabriel (supposedly) didn’t speak English. It made it much easier to complain without feeling guilty or worrying the other man would think Sam was being petty.

Sam stared wide-eyed at Gabriel, the dozens of instances of ranting about actual ongoing legal suits running through his mind. He’d breached confidentiality so many times on the assumption that Gabriel had no idea.

Sam could feel a panic attack coming on. He knew nothing about Gabriel. The shorter man could be employed by another law firm. He could have a connection to one of the cases Sam had told him about. He could have been repeating stories at a bar every night after Sam took the elevator with him.

Gabriel stopped yelling at the lift to look at Sam with concern. ‘Please tell me you’re not claustrophobic, Sam?’

That, for some reason, made it through the fog of panic clouding Sam’s head.

‘You know my name?’

‘Well, duh, it’s written on your front door. And also on the name badge you forget to take off sometimes. And I may have asked my brother who the pretty, tall guy who’s always insanely overworked and stressed is.’

Gabriel couldn’t just speak English. He was fluent. He didn’t even have an accent.

Sam was so screwed. Stupid. Assuming the guy couldn’t speak his language just because he’s heard him say a few words in a different one. Meanwhile Gabriel had been able to understand every word Sam had said and had said nothing, but let him spill confidential information every day.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you understood me?’ Sam asked, suddenly furious.

Gabriel had the good grace to look uncomfortable. ‘At first I was just… not sure how to address the issue. And the longer I waited the more I saw how much you needed someone to talk to. And, I know it was dumb, and you probably feel all kinds of humiliated right now, but I thought it would help you to have an outlet. Someone to talk to. That’s why I started waiting in the hall for you to get here so we could ride the lift together.’

Sam jolted, having not been aware of that.

Gabriel continued. ‘I know I should have spoken up when you started talking to me about your firm’s client’s confidential info, but by that time, it had gone on so long I just didn’t know how.’

Sam hung his head in his hands. His boss was going to terminate his clerkship. And probably sue him.

Gabriel knelt in front of Sam. ‘Hey, kiddo? It’s alright. I’m nice. I won’t sell your secrets or blackmail you, or anything. Promise.

Sam looked into the shorter man’s eyes. His face was open, sincere, and those golden eyes looked so earnest Sam couldn’t help but trust him.

‘Alright.’

Gabriel smiled and sat down on the ground beside Sam. ‘Soo, we have time. 20 questions?’

Sam snorted.

‘Seriously. Sam. Come on. Guess. Animal, mineral or vegetable.

Gabriel talking was infinitely better than Gabriel not talking. He was one of the funniest people Sam had ever met.

Eventually the conversation turned to other things.

Gabriel explained his family history, without going into detail. His dad, with his international business trips and 14 kids across 5 continents, all to different mothers, except for Gabriel and his oldest brother, Michael, who were the only two children Chuck had had with his actual wife.

Lucifer being sent over to live with his father by his mother when he’d been a troubled teen.

How he’d just gotten worse and worse since then.

How Gabriel had learned Russian just to get to know his brother, and Lucifer still pushed him away.

Some parts of the story hit too close to home for Sam’s comfort.

Gabriel was telling Sam a story about his youngest brother, Samandriel from Scotland, when the door was wrenched open. Lucifer stuck his head into the elevator.

Brat?’ he called.*

Gabriel waved. ‘ Vytaschi nas otsyuda, a?’ he asked the figure.

Sam guessed he was asking for help getting them out.

Lucifer rolled his eyes, but reached out to grab Gabriel’s outstretched hand and pull him out of the elevator. Sam was almost tall enough to reach the floor on his own, but the brothers helped him regardless.

Gabriel saluted Sam, but gave no further acknowledgement of their discussion in front of his brother. Sam waved back.


As they climbed the stairs together the next day, Gabriel made Sam cry laughing.

And the next day.

And the next.

Less than a fortnight later, Sam could barely imagine his afternoons without Gabriel cracking dumb jokes on their way up.


A month later came the day Sam found Lucifer half dead of an overdose and called Gabe, who’d sent him his number for joke exchanges a few days earlier. The night ended with Gabriel crying in Sam’s arms when the doctor told them Lucifer would be alright, and that he was finally agreeing to rehab.


A year and a half later, Sam and Gabriel were riding a different elevator together, to visit Lucifer in the new apartment he’d moved into after finding work as a music teacher.

Lucifer just laughed at them as he noticed how flushed Gabriel and his fiance looked stepping out of the lift.


Russian translations (@yes-ima-fluffy-unicorn thank you so much!)

1: Brat = brother

2.  Vytaschi nas otsyuda, a? =  get us outta here, would ya?


Send me more prompts from this list!

IDAHOT

Hey you! Today is the International Day Against Homophobia and Transphobia, #IDAHOT, so I just wanted to type up a little somethin’ somethin’.

Firstly, no matter who you are or what your sexual orientation is, whether you’re gay, bi, straight, pan, asexual or the myriad other labels, and no matter what your gender identity or expression is, whether you’re trans, cis, or anything in between or nothing at all, I want to stress to you how important and amazing it is that you are you. Humanity is evolving to a point where people can just be who they want to be, and that’s awesome.

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tsuruhami  asked:

Since Disney bought Marvel, do you think there will be a chance for solo female lead movie? Disney has track record for female lead movie and Disney Princess is popular.

Yeah - you’re right. Disney does have a solid track record for female led animated films and for products aimed at women and girls.

The problem is - Disney did not buy Marvel because it needs more help with selling products to women. They have that market on lockdown. Disney bought Marvel to sell action figures to boys. (Same goes for Star Wars fyi)

Check out: Business Week’s Disney’s Marvel Deal and the Pursuit of Boys

Gail Simone’s input in Another Side Effect of this “Girls Dont Buy Cartoon Toys Nonsense”

Presentation: Disney Buys Marvel - Why Spider-man is needed to capture the elusive boy’s market

Disney Swoops Into Action - Buying Marvel for $4 billion (NYTimes)

As Gail Simone puts it -

I also experienced some of this in talks with Disney right before they purchased Marvel. They asked me to develop tv ideas for them, interestingly NOT because I was female, not for a female audience, they wanted a BOY audience, and they felt I could help deliver that with good action stories. I bring this up because it’s interesting…people who are mad there’s no Black Widow film in the planning,(understandably) are upset.

But my meeting with Disney tells an interesting picture. The executive I spoke with put it very bluntly, to his credit. He said that at one time, Disney OWNED the boys’ adventure market on television. But over time, they had more and more success with programming for girls. To the point where boys actively started avoiding the Disney brand.

You think they bought Marvel and Star Wars for purely the intellectual properties, you would only be partially correct. They bought those properties to make Disney cool for boys again. To own the boys’ adventure market like they felt they already owned the market for girls’ programming.

In the sub-picture, not having a female superhero movie is a hole in the Marvel film brand, but in the bigger picture, Disney feels they own most of that market already.

So actually, Disney buying Marvel actually makes it less likely that there will be solo female movies in the future - simply because Disney wants to sell products to little boys and there is an entirely sexist and irrational fear that little boys will not watch movies or buy toys about female superheroes. Furthermore, they simply don’t care if little girls also like these heroes since they feel that they have enough of the “little girl” market already through the Disney Princess line they feel no need to cater towards that demographic. It is sad, but this thought process is why we so far only have token representation on superhero teams on the big screen and in the animated TV shows.

Thankfully, shows like Jessica Jones and Agent Carter and the recent Black Widow/Punisher Avengers Confidential show willingness to market female heroes towards the young adult audience but children is where a lot of the money is and what little boys (presumably) want is what will dictate choices in the MCU going forward. So sad. 

Thankfully comics and the MCU are quite different in their marketing strategy! Marvel comics have been making leaps and bounds in promoting their female characters lately. 

The Amala Muslim Youth Hopeline began with the aim of providing an accessible, confidential, and culturally competent means of peer counseling and resource referral for Muslim youth. Our mission is to provide a non-judgmental and understanding over-the-phone atmosphere for individuals to seek help. We want to help Muslim youth find the Hope that they need, and that is why we are Amala, the Muslim Youth HOPELINE.

Takemehomefromnarnia/Rainbow Direction: Letting you know about a serious internal issue and our next steps

Takemehomefromnarnia’s first priority is always to provide a safe space for fans, including our volunteers. This message is therefore not a typical post for our blog, nor is it an easy one for us to write. Still, impending changes and a commitment to transparency urge us to let you know about a situation that we have had to address within our team in the past few months.

Issues in the team

Over the summer of 2015, a core member of our team started making claims that implied they had a direct connection with the One Direction team and boys. Depending on whom they talked to, they suggested they were an employee or a personal friend, and implied having a hand in dressing the bears.

Whether or not these claims were true, the fact that they put the perception of a connection out there presented a “conflict of interests” for TMHFN/RD. We are very proud to be a fan-driven initiative. Any involvement from the 1D team, whether real or perceived, in what we do would detract from our value as a fan initiative, and if there were such involvement we feel we ought to know about it.

All core members of our team sign an agreement with a code of conduct (the structure & governance document or S&G  that includes a requirement to inform the organisation of any such potential conflict of interests (S&G p 9: “members will disclose one’s involvement with other organizations, businesses or individuals where such a relationship might be viewed as a conflict of interest.”). In cases of violation, that agreement gives the Executive the authority to “adjudicate violations of the code of conduct and enact disciplinary measures” (S&G p.6). So, when our president became aware of the full extent of the claims in late September, she immediately flagged it up with the rest of the Executive (vice president & chief financial/admin officer, S&G p.4) and with other members of the Board (executive + project owners (formerly campaign managers), see S&G p.4).

It quickly became clear that the rumour had spread in the organisation and that people were reluctant to discuss the issue openly for fear of violating confidentiality. The difference between those “in the know” and those not informed (or not lied to), had led to distrust and division within the Board and the Executive. We recognize that there were also other sources of disagreement within the organisation, namely about our internal mode of working and communication. Still, the distrust created by the person’s claims demonstrably played a big part in creating a hostile, cliquish atmosphere in work and social threads, which negatively impacted volunteers. Some claims also led to inaccuracies in our blogging (luckily corrected now).

TMHFN operates on a model of decision-making by consensus and of assuming best intentions. The Executive did not decide on disciplinary action at that time in October, but agreed it was best that the president personally seek clarification from the person in question. That is why, on October 30th, the president organized a private chat with the person, asking an advisor to the executive to observe. The goal of this chat was to inform the person about the rumours, and give them the opportunity to clarify the situation either way. During that conversation, the person denied any link with One Direction or their team. Therefore, they were asked to amicably clarify this to the rest of our core team and quash the rumours of direct links/access to 1D and of influence on the bears. They agreed to this, but did not follow through.

Instead, the person chose to persist in making conflicting claims. They posted a message to our core team implying a professional link to 1D’s team, and even suggesting that they were obliged by the president and observing board member to reveal personal details to the core team.

Immediately after this message, several members of the core team announced that they disagreed with the way this person’s claims had been addressed, complaining in particular about the perceived violation of privacy. They announced that they would remain inactive (on ‘strike’) until circumstances changed.

The president and observer/executive advisor explained to the core team that the conversation with the person had been amicable, that its purpose had been to get clarification on the rumours, and that only after receiving this clarification had they (the president and advisor) requested that the person confirm to the rest of team their denial of these rumours, which had created a perceived conflict of interest and a risk to the reputation of the organisation. The person had agreed, and it could have perfectly been done without revealing any personal information. In fact, the “personal information” voluntarily revealed by this person only perpetuated the general perception in the team of their having a direct link with One Direction. Those on strike did not believe the president and executive advisor, tension rose, and the conflict was not resolved and communication within the Executive and Board broke down.

As part of our mechanisms to keep work threads safe, the “confidence system” - whose role it is to handle individual issues when someone does not feel comfortable speaking up about something - opened their inboxes for everyone’s concerns. In the next few days and weeks they received a number of messages from the different parties, both about the events of October 30th and about other concerns. They tried to set up a full team discussion with the aim of resolving the conflict, but some of those on strike refused this proposal. Instead, the confidence persons organised one-on-one and small group conversations to attempt to re-establish trust and communication within the Executive and Board.

In the meantime, further evidence that the person’s claims were repeatedly inconsistent came into the hands of members of the Executive and Board. Several different sources (some public, some private) confirmed that the person’s different claims to a direct connection with One Direction’s team were false. However, it was not just the conflicting claims themselves but the (creation of a) conflict of interests and risk to our reputation, and - most of all -the serious impact the claims had on the organisation and on our volunteers, which led the active members of the Executive and Board, on 3 December 2015, to unanimously decide for the president to ask the person to resign. The person did so immediately, and confidentiality was mutually agreed upon. Due to their high level of access to our social media accounts, all passwords were changed for standard security reasons. While the person involved has, to our knowledge, respected that confidentiality, (a) person(s) associated with them chose not to do the same, which is an important reason why we feel the need to be transparent here.

Every volunteer who had signed the S&G was immediately informed of this request for resignation made on the following grounds:

  • Creation of a perceived conflict of interest for the organisation (the main violation of the code of conduct in our S&G, see above) by implying links to 1D’s team and through this a serious risk to the organisation’s reputation as their claims could have made TMHFN/RD (& sister campaign World Almighty) look like something else than what it is: a fan-led initiative
  • Other misleading claims leading to factual inaccuracies in our work, for example in press releases and in a blog post about the bears and their accessories (all corrected now)
  • Alienation of new volunteers by refusing to agree to them becoming core team members for personal reasons (another violation of the code of conduct in our S&G p. 9: “members will […] refrain from trying to influence other members in that might have the effect of creating factions and limiting free and open discussion”)
  • Creation of distrust within the core team, due to the person’s different claims to different people and due to their requests that some claims be kept from certain Board members. Their claims of a direct connection with 1D also resulted in some people valuing this person’s input above others, creating further divisions and conflict within the team (S&G p. 9: see above)
  • Time, energy and emotional wellbeing lost on addressing this issue rather than on realizing the organisation’s mission
  • Impact on the overall internal environment, including in social threads, and possible emotional distress to at-risk volunteers

Active core team members were informed that they could receive the new passwords upon request, and everyone was given the opportunity to ask questions. The message led to some more volunteers leaving or going on strike. The Executive and Board received several questions from those on strike about the decision to ask the person to resign, as well as about what will be done to address other concerns about the organisation’s structure and internal workings.

Further internal communication from the Executive and Board noted the concerns of those on strike and answered their questions insofar possible. We decided not to make all of the evidence about the person available to the full team, as some of it was private information (S&G, p 9 “respect the confidentiality of information on sensitive issues, particularly in personal matters”). We clarified the decision-making process and the fact that there was a broad consensus amongst the members of the Executive and Board based on the evidence and - more importantly - the impact. We also recognized the emotional toll that this unfortunate event has taken upon everyone involved.

We acknowledged that concerns about structure and governance and about internal communication are very important to address, and set out a process to collect these concerns systematically. It was also announced that one of our first steps will be to have a respectful dialogue training for all core volunteers, including Executive and Board members, followed by a consultation on the organisation’s future. Finally, we explained that we cannot keep returning to the question of the person’s dismissal, and need to re-establish a collaborative working environment with open and respectful communication. To this end, we asked those on strike to consider their ongoing commitment to the organization, and let us know by 31 December 2015 if they wished to continue or not. We emphasised that we value everyone’s talents and contributions, and that if anyone needed to take some time away, they would be welcomed back should they wish to return at any point in the future.

Several former team members have not renewed their commitment. We respect their decision and wish them well. We also want to recognize once more that this situation has been extremely stressful and difficult for everyone involved.

A new start

“Our Dilemma is that we hate change and love it at the same time. We want things to stay the same but get better.” — (Sydney J. Harris, Journalist)

In order for an organization to move forward, it must acknowledge the truth of its own history - the good and the bad. Takemehomefromnarnia is no different. We have celebrated a lot of accomplishments in the nearly three years we have been around, but we have had conflicts and difficulties as well. Our first priority is always to make a space safe for our volunteers and supporters. Sometimes things happen which remove the safety of spaces, and such things are never easy to address, or move forward from. But that is what we are doing, and we are determined to learn from this - through objective assessment, open and respectful dialogue, a willingness to consider all ideas and points of view, and with our hearts and minds set upon collaboration.

Over the next few weeks, TMHFN/RD may be a bit quieter than usual. After three years, the circumstances both internally and externally have changed. We need to take the time to look inward and prepare ourselves for a new phase. Our focus will remain on LGBTQ issues, safe spaces, education and action, with a firm base in (this) fandom, but we also want to go out there and bring rainbows to other parts of our lives.

Our immediate focus is internal reform with training, developing new structures, and open dialogue with those remaining. We will also be changing servers, developing new projects, and recruiting new people. Ideally, no one will notice a difference externally; but on the off-chance that we miss a major event, or that an ask goes a little too long without an answer, we beg your forgiveness.

We felt it was right to let you know about our current situation and the changes ahead, so that we can ask for your input. Your energy, your ideas, your feedback, questions and comments are most welcome, as they always are: our inbox and mailbox are open.

Thank you for your time,

The active Takemehomefromnarnia/Rainbow Direction Executive & Board

Edwin (executive advisor, PO educational campaigns, TMFHN co-founder) 

Ellis (PO internal volunteer management, RD campaign co-founder)

Kat (president, TMHFN founder, RD campaign co-founder)

Li (vice president, PO Rainbow Direction campaign, RD campaign co-founder)

Molly (PO internal volunteer management, TMHFN co-founder)

Tamara (PO World Almighty campaign, WA co-founder)

If you meet someone whose heart is not aligned with yours, send them love and move along.
—  I won’t stoop to your level by calling you out on social media, but you should know that sabotaging my friendship/relationship with someone speaks volumes about what kind of person you truly are. The fact that you knew how I felt about this person and continued to persuade them with your promiscuity to the point where they gave up on me before we barely begun is a terrible way to hurt someone, but I won’t be one who you get to claim victim because I refuse to break under your hand.
I went to school and shared classes with you. I told you things in hopes that you’d keep them confidential, but what’s the saddest of all is that I trusted you. I wonder why I had to be the one you betrayed. Little did you know that I would have been there for you at 4 PM and again at 4 AM if you ever needed me. I never blamed my naivety on anything because I believe that it was what has enabled me to be someone with a big enough heart capable of letting anyone in. Like you. You were in. You were a friend that I was ready to be proud of until you tried to break me. You waited until you had a firm grip on my heart, and that is the saddest part.
But, I forgive you. You are nothing that I need to hold onto longer than necessary.