two days people do you realize this


eliza schuyler x reader

prompt: are you cool with doing another eliza x reader (didn’t realize that I needed that paring till I read Helpless lol) Prompt: Jealous eliza. Make it fluffy please

prompt #57: “wait a second.. are you jealous?”

a/n: day two is fem!slash day so of course i had to write for my babe. people have requested jealous!eliza before so i decided to combine my request and write-a-thon day two fic together :))

day one


You weren’t the type of girl to go out to parties often.

Yes, you were social and liked to be near people, but you seized the opportunity to stay in and finish any homework or studying needed for the week instead of going out to some party with people you barely knew. You had nothing against parties and enjoyed a good one once in awhile. You just weren’t in the party mood tonight, not in the mindset to put up with drunk girls and guys being overly friendly with you and most likely drinking more than you intended.

But here you were otherwise, your friend Hercules having convinced you to come to this so called amazing party everyone will be at.

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PSA #2 for all Yuri on Ice Cosplayers

I said it once and I’ll say it again, DO NOT BRING OR WEAR FIGURE SKATES TO A CON.



I have and will not hesitate to report anyone I see with or wearing skates at a con. Several cons are already in the process of outright specifically banning them.


the evolution of adam and ronan (bold is faves)
  • Last week, he and Adam had taken turns dragging each other on a moving dolly behind the BMW, and they both still had the marks to show it
  • Gansey had once told Adam that he was afraid most people didnt know how to handle Ronan. What he meant by this was that he was worried that one day someone would fall on Ronan and cut themselves. 
  • “Do you think it makes me look tougher?” Ronan said, “It makes you look like a loser.”
  • “You’re a Neanderthal.” “Sometimes you sound just like Gansey,” Ronan said. “Sometimes you don’t.” Noah laughed his breathy, nearly soundless laugh. Ronan spit on the ground beside the BMW. “I didn’t realize that ‘midget’ was the Adam Parrish type.” he said. 
  • Two years earlier, Adam had made his decision to come to Aglionby, and, in his head, it was sort of because of Ronan…even the way the other boy had moved, Adam recalled, had struck him: confident and careless, shoulders rolled back, chin tilted, an emperor’s son…He’d never wanted to be someone else so badly. In his head, that boy was Ronan.
  • “I’m always straight.” Adam replied, “Oh, man, that’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told.”

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Do you ever wonder, as each day passes by, if that was it?
Was that the best day, the best kiss, the hardest laugh?
Has it slipped our grasp?
Has it passed us by?
Do you question whether you missed your chance?
Do you think such great things…moments…people have the ability to repeat themselves?
I desperately hope this is true.
I pray good things come frequently, great things come often, and amazing things just might come in twos.
Because, god forbid, you don’t realize the first time the rarity of what is at your finger tips, who is lying next to you at night, or the immensity of your happiness in a given moment.
I hope for all our sake that we get a chance to recognize this again, to identify what we had once overlooked.
You just never know if what you have given away out of naivety is the best you were meant to receive from life.
I beg life for second chances, I beg myself to appreciate everything the first time around.
—  hanaaraii, A Book I’m Going to Write (H.A) 
“i used to believe that everyone deserved true love, and that it should last as long as your life does, but it wasn’t until i met you that i realized that’s not the case,” she says to him.
“what do you mean?” he asks.
“people hear the word forever and they expect it to last until the day they die, but sometimes, forever is only a year, and sometimes it’s only two or three years. for us, forever was a little less than a year, but during that time, you gave me the best forever. you showed me love, compromise, you showed me adoration. you showed me how two broken people can come together and make each other whole, even if it is for a little while. you gave me a forever i’ll never forget and i thank you for that,” and with this, she gives him a final kiss and turns to walk away from her forever.
Newt Scamander x Reader - Most Assuredly You

Title: Most Assuredly You

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader

Rating: G

Word Count: 2000

Warnings: None. This is gonna be happy because I left it so sad last time.

Sequel to this bad boy - Not Yourself

By request from many, but specifically @fantasymind231 , @kittykat101ary , @katniption , and @waywardtimemachinejellyfish .

I’m really glad all of your guys seemed to like Not Yourself because it was my first Newt x Reader and it makes me happy that this sequel was requested because I honestly wanted to do a part two as much as your people wanted one!

Originally posted by wandamaixmoff

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Regarding all the complaints about Bernie Wolfe:

Frankly I don’t have the strength to bring out the diagrams and the scene studies and the character dissections - but it makes me think that a great many people out there have had the luxury of being perfect and in perfect relationships.

To me, this is as real as I’ve ever seen two female characters portrayed in a fictional romance. They aren’t in any way perfect or being shone in a glittery, sparkly way to insinuate that they are.

They’re unabashedly flawed, real people and for me - I’ll take that any day over hearts and flowers.

Also on the note of Jemma not kissing Catherine right, some how insinuating that means she’s “not into it” professionally speaking? I mean I didn’t have words but what I can muster in question is - you do realize that this actress was approached with the only set character storyline being that she would end up with another woman and Jemma jumped at the chance to be a part of it?

Addendum - I’ve kissed women my whole life and I think all three kisses are absolutely heartbreakingly real.

Source: Me being a big lez

hi friends I like to do fic giveaways when I hit follower goals but I hit my last one when I was in the midst of doing holiday fills and then I forgot so we’re doing this now SO

what is happening

  • ONE person will get a 10k fic!
  • TWO OTHER PEOPLE will get 5k fics!
  • t100 fics only sorry
  • pairings: Bellarke, Minty, Bartender Mechanic, Wellven, Bravenlarke (which is not a pairing but whatev)

what do I (the reader) have to do?

  • reblog this post by January 13th! let’s say 8pm EST
  • only one reblog counts so don’t spam ur dash it’s not worth it
  • I usually say have your askbox open but I’ve realized I usually use the message system for contact now so that doesn’t matter
  • have a good day I guess but if you don’t that doesn’t disqualify you I just hope you do

is there anything else???

  • I feel like there should be but I can’t think of anything so let’s hope not
I’m writing this for you to say goodbye, the goodbye we never really got because you said you couldn’t do it and in a way, goodbye never felt right for us. I always imagined we would stay friends. That one day you’d text me as if nothing had happened and maybe we’d meet for coffee and talk like we always had, two people with the same values in life.

I wish I could sit with you and talk about your love life and not feel an aching in my heart but of course, you can’t. I can’t.

I realize all of this. And I realized it again when I opened that box, the one where I kept all of the sentimental things I couldn’t throw away—every card, every photograph and every random note you or I left around the house. I sifted through them and remembered how much I did love you and how I honestly saw a future for us. The words you wrote warmed my heart and made me believe I was worth being loved. You did that. You made me believe I was worthy and even now, I cannot thank you enough for that.

But its time to let you go. And though you aren’t that person anymore — I hope you find the kind of love you deserve, the kind I was unable to give you. I hope you live all of those dreams you spoke so passionately of when our fingers danced together in each others palms.

I hope you don’t think of me, but I hope you know I’m so glad you were my first love. I’m so glad I got to spend those years with you and that love, that feeling of absolute euphoria. You will remain in the memory box, not touched by time or reality or the cruelness of the world.

Goodbye, old love. You can be free now.

What do you do when you realize the love of your life has always belonged to another? When the happy memories the two of you, memories that mean the world to you, mean shit to them? How do you drive by places the two of you visited with dopey looks in your eyes, and not want to dissolve into emotional turmoil? I wish I could tell you, but unfortunately I’m still trying to figure that out for myself. I read a quote the other day that said something similar to, “Too often we see people who aren’t in love and together, and people who are in love and aren’t” or some other bullshit to the same affect. However, that really hit home to me. I’m in love with someone who isn’t and never was in love with me, and the emotional devastation I felt when I realized this was so unfathomable that I wouldn’t wish it on even the most evil human being.

I grew up believing in the idea of soulmates, and spent the majority of my teenage years and even some of my adult life searching for that person. I sought out my happiness in the hearts and minds of men before I saw them for who they were. But I’m not here to talk about the boy who broke my heart at 15, or even the one who broke it again in May of my 19th year. No. This is about David.

At 18 years old, I realized that I was a raging alcoholic. Not all that hard to believe, sure, but still a shock factor to some. The indicator should have been when I flunked out of college due to being too drunk to attend my classes. I drank all day every day with the sole purpose of drinking my problems away. Ignorance is bliss, and when you can’t remember anything, all you can feel is bliss. When I came home after my one and only semester of college, I came to the conclusion that I would have to get a job to support my alcoholism, so I did. I went into work everyday with one singular thought on my mind, and the same thought before I went to bed, “I need a goddamned drink.” Surprisingly, it was easy to find for a 19 year old girl in a small, hick town. I had no serious relationship to worry about fucking up, and a dead-end job at an ice cream parlor, therefore, I had no consequence should I find myself suffering from drunken decision making.

Parties were easy to find during that summer, and I attended them at least 5 times a week. It was at a party such as this that I met David (introduced to me as Davi), whom I later had drunken sex with at a friend’s apartment while another friend watched. Imagine my surprise when I found out the next morning that the man I barely remembered having sex with had a girlfriend. I suppose I should have felt some guilt, but due to the alcohol still effecting my mind when I went to work the next morning, I found that I couldn’t have cared any less about it.

I put the man out of my mind, an easy feat since I hardly remembered even speaking to him, and my partying and fucking continued. I saw him after this of course, due to the limited amount of available partying space and mutual friends. After that first night, he always had his girlfriend with him. We didn’t speak. He and I weren’t friends or even aquatinted. We had merely shared orgasms after a night of alcohol consumption, and that was that. Up until the Fourth of July. A wild night for being a teenager in Louisa, Kentucky. I cleared the weekend with my family, and decided to myself that it was about time for a bender.

Friday night rolled around, and I found myself talking to Davi for the first time in months. No girlfriend to be seen, I thought that I might at least have an opportunity for a repeat performance of some of the best sex I’d ever had. I didn’t expect for him to ask me genuine questions or for him to take an interest in anything I had to say. The majority of conversations I’d been used to having at parties were, “So do you want to come back to my place after this?” Or, “Can we go upstairs for a quickie?” I blamed our conversation on the killer weed we’d smoked together, and went to bed with him eagerly that night.

The next morning, we continued to talk, and I found myself getting interested. Dangerous waters, I know, but I was intrigued. I’d never met another person who seemed so interested in how my mind worked and what I thought. It was addicting, more so than any drug I’ve ever had the pleasure of doing (more than I’d care to admit) and listening to him talk was worse. I hung onto every word he uttered with a reverence, as if he was telling me the secret of life.

This continued all weekend and into the next week until I found myself spending everyday by his side. He dutifully sat through meetings with my loud, obnoxious family and loved it. We went hiking, an activity I never particularly enjoyed until I did it with him. But the best days (or nights I should say) were spent at his best friend’s apartment, getting high and talking about literally anything that came to mind. I craved those days more than I ever craved alcohol, to the point I felt like I no longer needed to drink. I’d found a different way to lose my mind, and I lost it every day in him.

And the sex. My god the sex. Davi fucked me like he’d never fuck anyone ever again. It was passionate, loving, and just the right side of rough all at the same time. We’d stare into each other’s eyes as if we couldn’t believe we were so lucky to be seeing the other one naked. There was a kind of awe in the air every time we did it, and it was a heady, addictive feeling.

The night I snuck him into my house to ditch a party, I knew I was in love. That’s the exact moment I realized I was fucked. Up until now, it had just been a bit of fun, you see. We talked about things that mattered, hung out, and fucked, it was never supposed to go any further. There’d been no mention of the girlfriend. That was a topic we avoided altogether. Now, however, I was at the point of no return. How could I tell him that I had fallen in love along the way? That was never supposed to happen, and I hadn’t wanted it to. But you see, the universe has a special way of saying, “Fuck you” when you’re vulnerable like that.

So, within the week we were done. He and the girlfriend had decided that they were going to work through their issues, you see? She was the love of his life, he regretted everything we’d done. He wished he’d never spoken to me that weekend in July. So on and so forth. But, he had. He had willingly done this, both to himself and to me. For the first time in over a month, I was craving a drink. I wanted to drink and fuck him out of my memory, and out of my heart.

Of course I was due for another “Fuck you” from Fate, because he turned up on that lovely night in August where all I wanted to do was get blacked out drunk. He ended up holding me while I cried (a definite side effect if I’m drinking whiskey) and cuddled with me at that same friend’s apartment where we shared so many nights together.

And like so many men before him, I let him back into my life. I thought that by spending enough time together, I could make him fall in love with me too. An easy feat, I thought, since there were pre established feelings between us. I was dead wrong. Through every failed attempt, I stuck to my guns, thinking that eventually he’d see how much I cared for him and about him and realize, “Hey, I’ll never find another girl to love me as much as she does, I need to focus my attention on her.”

I can’t explain to you how wrong that I was. Up until this point I thought I was being successful. We would talk about our futures together, traveling the world and the children we would have together, most of these images and ideas conjured by him. I began to think that he might possibly be in love with me too, and I reveled in that feeling. The girlfriend was still not in the picture, we still avoided her name at all costs, lest even the mention of her shatter the fragile web we’d spun together.

Until she came back for good.

It’s been just over a week since he and I have talked, and I’ve never felt more empty in my whole life. He didn’t just break my heart, he ripped it out of my chest cavity and took it with him when he drove away from my house for the last time. Many times over the years I’ve thought about taking my life, even attempted to on more than one occasion. Now, that doesn’t even seem like it’s enough. I wish that I had never existed. To never be born would be better, for I never want to experience this feeling. Why humans were given emotions, I’ll never know. No animal should be subjected to this torture. Human emotions are a special kind of hell designed to prepare us for an eternity of suffering.

I wish there were a way to erase him from every iota of my being. Scientists say that every 7 years, all of the cells in our bodies are replaced with new ones. One day, I will be an entirely new person that he will never know or see. This doesn’t stop me from wishing he could. I wish he could see the crooked way I smile because he always complimented it, or the way my eyes change to gold in the light because he said it’s the thing he loved the most about me. And the evil part of me wishes he could see the bad that he did to me. How I lost 40 pounds after he broke it off with me, and the 10 after she came back, because he knows that when I’m depressed I don’t eat. I wish he could feel the cold tile of the bathroom on his cheek like I did when I cried for him to just come back. I want him to taste the tears like I have to as I write this.

But most importantly, I want him to experience this heartbreak that I’m feeling. I want her to look at him one day and say, “I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be,” and then to look at her in disbelief while he tries to hide it, even though he can feel his heart shatter and fall apart. I want him to look at her with tears in his eyes and say, “Please don’t do this. I love you,” only for her to smile sadly and say, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

So, Davi, if you’re reading this, I hope you hurt. I hope you wake up everyday in agony over a broken heart. I hope that you realize one day what you’ve done, and I hope you feel never ending remorse for it. I hope that late at night you sit down and think to yourself, “I destroyed that girl,” because that’s exactly what you’ve done. I hope for the rest of your life you’re never happy. I hope that you wake up every day in pain and go to sleep in pain and dream of that pain. I hope that you never fulfill your dreams, and that you stay stuck in Louisa for the rest of your life. I hope that many years from now, when you see me again, being happy with someone else and giving them the love I tried to give you, that it makes you sob uncontrollably. I hope you come up to me and beg for my forgiveness. I hope you look at me and say, “I never should have let you go. If I could take it all back now I would. I love you, Nicole.”

And at that moment I will say, “It doesn’t matter.”

Nicole Lynn


50 days of swan queen: day 1 → the moment you started shipping swan queen

[I remember watching this episode, but this scene in general, and thinking to myself ‘Do people ship Emma and Regina? It’d be dark, but…’ and then dismissing the thought because the two women hated each other at the moment, and the amount of people who shipped it were probably a small group. Then, a few weeks later, when I was caught up to the third season, which had just premiered the week before, I realized a lot more people liked the idea of Emma and Regina together than I had originally thought. And here I am, three years later.]

I thought//Daryl Dixon

Second part to Prom as requested! After the break out, Daryl doesn’t get to see the reader and she doesn’t get to see him. This is what happens after.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood/mild gore, smut

Note: I tried third-person writing so sorry if it’s not too good.Also smut! Who am I? trying two new things at once, hope I didn’t fuck up too bad.

Originally posted by ihavesixteeneyes


Two years after their prom. Two years after she made the first move. Two years after she kissed Daryl. Two years and she hasn’t seen him.

Daryl found himself in a prison with a great group of people but not a day passed without him missing you. All he could do was wonder if she was still around, alive to be specific. He spent his days on watch, it took some convincing to get him down for meals and to sleep. You were stuck in his mind, that’s when he realized he loved you. He needed closure, walker or alive, he needed to see her again.

She was safe, she found a community, Woodbury. She didn’t like it one bit but thought if Michonne could make it out, so could she. She could use the governors play thing, Andrea, for help or just leave herself. Which is what she did. She slipped through a breach in the wall and slipped away into the darkness. Andrea spoke of a prison a few miles away so that’s where she was headed. The first walker she saw she took down, penetrated through its head with a knife. As it laid, officially, dead she cut its stomach open and covered herself in its guts. She learned the trick from a fortunate walker battle.

She walked until day break and found the spoken of prison. Through the walkers she made her way to the fence. She probably looked like one of them but hopefully someone notice her stillness and non-decaying skin. Someone did, a little boy and a woman with brown hair.

“Someone get Rick!” The woman shouted as she opened a gate.

The woman held a gun to her face but she stood strong and fearless, waiting for Rick.

Daryl heard Ricks’ name called and felt the need to accompany. He was eating lunch so he wasn’t on watch and wondered what he had missed. Either way, he was Ricks’ right hand man. He stepped outside to see Maggie holding a gun to a woman covered in blood and guts. He ran a little behind Rick to meet Maggie, and the unknown woman. When he got there he made eye contact with her and her eyes lit up. It was her, (Y/N), his high school sweetheart in the flesh. He turned around in disbelief. 

She wrapped her arms around his back. She didn’t care if she would be shot now, she found him. He let out a soft cry but it turned into a smile. He twisted in her arms so her head now rested on his chest. He looked at the top of her head with tears, he was so happy. She pulled away and held his face in her hands.

“I thought you were dead, Daryl Dixon” She breathed.


“Still the awkward boy I spent prom with” she said softly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” He asked just wanting to leave this tense moment and be alone with her.

After she had cleaned up she found Daryl in his room.

“Better?” She asked as now she was clean.

“Yes” Daryl said with a smile.

She sat on his bed and kissed him. He kissed back, hard. Something about not seeing the person you love in two years really heats things up.

“I love you” She panted and started kissing down Daryls’ neck.

“I-I love you too” he replied.

She straddled his hips and started unbuttoning his shirt, kissing up his torso as each button came undone underneath her fingertips. Daryl was still shy, awkward and wouldn’t make any risque moves. She pushed his sleeve off and he sat up to take it off. His lips reattached with hers and he ran his hands along her spine and to her hips.

“Take off my shirt, Daryl” she said breathlessly “It’s okay” She added in a whisper.

He ran his hands under her shirt and lifted it over her head. She assisted him by lifting her arms above her head. She took off her bra so he wouldn’t have to fumble with shaky hands and clumsy fingertips. Daryl put himself in control and flipped her underneath him, she giggled in excitement and surprise. He took off her pants, his confidence obviously growing. Then moved to take off her underwear. He looked at her in front of him in her true state. She was beautiful, more than just a beautiful face and body but personality too.

“What?” She asked.

“You’re beautiful” He said and kissed up her body.

“Daryl” she whispered and he looked up at her from her torso.

She brought his face to hers.

“Just fuck me already” She said.

Daryl fumbled with a belt, now nervous at her demands. Once he was stripped he leaned his body over hers. He lined himself up with her and slid himself in. She moaned loudly, so loud she had to muffle it with her hand. He stood still letting herself adjust.

“Go” She assured him.

And he did. He started pumping in and out of her. Not fast enough to make this just a fuck, but each thrust had meaning, purpose. He wanted to give himself to her in every way. He held eye contact as he saw how much pleasure she was in.

“Faster” She moaned.

Daryl did so. 

“I’m close, Daryl” She moaned once again.

She brought her hand to her clit and rubbed it to help her reach her orgasm. She bit down on his shoulder as she came, her body writhed with pleasure. Daryl pulled out and finished on her lower stomach with a groan. 

“Fuck” he groaned. 

Still coming down he shakily reaches for a tissue and cleans her up.

“What a gentleman” She said with a smile.

“Only for my lady” He said and laid down next to her.

He turned her to they were face to face.

“I’m so glad you’re alive” She whispered, placing a hand on his face.

“Me too” He said.

“I missed you so much, you have no idea. My only reason to keep going was to find you”

“I stayed on watch, all day. They had to drag me down every now and then to get me to sleep. I waited for you every god damn day”

“What’d you do to me, Daryl Dixon?” She asked jokingly.

“Somethin right, I guess” He said with a smirk and kissed her forehead.

My excitement about the book is rising again. :D :D I can’t wait, y’all.

Link: Is it cold in the Netherlands? (is momentarily confused)
Me: (facepalm)

Some people actually think Netflix cheating is worse than an affair?? wtf…I bet those people have never been cheated on.

The more they talk, the more it sounds that Netflix is a euphemism for actual cheating XD I’m loving this conversation, though.

Link: The remote teetering on her… (realizes where he’s gesturing) well…on her belly…
Rhett: Two remotes.
… :O

Psh Rhett, we know you’re busy, but we’re still gonna wonder wtf you guys do with your time. :P

Aww, remember how Link used to be so protective about his hair that he’d lock himself in the bathroom for hours

Word of the day: micturate.

They both said hell and didn’t bleep it out! o_O whaaaa

Link demonstrating how he straddled the toilet. XD Someone in the comments said that prison toilets were already like this? I googled and apparently that’s true (at least regarding the toilet/sink design part). Interesting…

“I’ve also peed into a sink before, in a moment of desperation.” I…am curious about the circumstances of that.

Link mentioning his fly and the word gaping in the same sentence… Rhett and I had the same reaction.

Title: Rough Night (reader x Matt)

Summary: Reader likes Matthew Murdock and goes out after work to find him, only to see him and Karen kissing

Word Count: 1417

A/N: YES MATT YES! Also WHAT 900 FOLLOWERS. I LOVE YOU ALL SO SO SO MUCH. I cannot even fathom that many people. Thank you, so much, from the bottom of my heart

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you know what i love?

slow burn relationships. friends who do everything together and suddenly one day they realize that their feelings are deeper than friendship. or even better, two people who start off hating each other or feeling animosity towards each other but then SLOWLY BUT SURELY, they fall for each other. it’s all such a cliche but i love it, write slow burn relationships with me

i like how every school probably has their own memes. for example in mine, three years ago, it was common to write Game of Thrones spoilers on the blackboard before the class started bc some ppl watched the episodes before the others, or some others had read the books or smth. 

Now the funny part is that it always happened in this one room with the “double boards” like we had two blackboards, one above the other, and the teacher can drag down the one they wanna write on. 

And whoever wrote those spoilers always left the first board empty, hiding the second board, so that at any point during the class, when the teacher moved the first board up, the spoiler would appear and all hell would break loose lmao you had people shouting like “NO WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS”

then one day ppl realized who was doing that and they did the same… with his phone number 

anonymous asked:

💣 ( theunsunghero or blueshxft, i'm sorry i'm indecisive )

“I learned how to be two-faced from you, Barney. The upbeat smiles beside the pained drinking, the Overwatch cover beside the Resistance efforts–they’ve been good lessons for me. 

“Now, without my dad, people look to me to take his place as a leader. I’ve never fully realized before how fragile authority is; it’s entirely dependent on people thinking I know what I’m doing and how to do it. I don’t. I play off their confidence and take cues like a stage magician. I meet with Cubbage and the others for organization talks and I speak with the scientists, but most of the time, I want to leave. I try to remember what it was like to be confidant in my part in the Resistance, but I can’t.

“I want to walk into the wastes and never be found again. I want to sit out there and fade away. I want to leave, Barney. 

“I don’t leave. I try to help restore my people to better days.”

Not quite inpatient my mother has to stay with me for a few days.

Had a lot of Realizing Things though, including that my partner’s girlfriend, and my friend, hurt me terribly a few years ago.

Like, it’s not normal for someone to say, separately, to two people “I never want to do polyamory” again and then those two people to put you into a position where you basically have to choose between keeping your boundaries and their (potential) happiness. Add into it that one of said people raped you years ago and so much for that happy poly group feeling. Like, she didn’t hold me down and penetrate me. Rather, she planned on having sex with me and my partner and instead of consulting us, she just kept feeding me, specifically, drinks until I was too drunk to say no. My partner and I were actually going to our bed and she magically appeared ready for action and then I don’t remember much after that. I remember one flash specifically wherein I was thinking “no, I want this to stop this isn’t right” and then blacking out again. I didn’t call this rape for a long time and a lot of reasons, but that’s what it was. At the very best, it was using chemicals to manipulate me into a state unable to make decisions about my body and the consent I wanted to give. Which is still rape I guess.

I confronted her about it before this all started and she looked at me so fearfully and sadly and asked if I thought she’d raped me and I said no. I wanted to repair our friendship and thought I should just get over it, but I know now. I know better.

I am still in a great deal of emotional pain but I’m working through it. My partner and I can get through anything we can get through this. I can get through this.


“You do have to go to some headspace to play Sansa. But you leave that at work. I’ll never take that home. Especially because—and people don’t realize this, but—when you’re on set it’s a very jolted thing. It’s not like you’re in that headspace all day. Sometimes you’ll have like two hours in between [set ups] where you’ll go and sit with the rest of the cast, and you can’t just sit there being quiet and miserable all day. It’s a headspace I go to for 15 minutes at a time and I hop right back out of it.”