#conclaved

              hurt is one of those words that can be anything: a noun. a verb. an adjective. i am hurt. i hurt. i feel hurt. and that can be easy to misconstrue -- it's a miracle that she feels anything, but she feels like those green eyes are just carving out a pit in her stomach and plucking every healed stitch she's tried to press against her back. (the problem with her back is she can't reach it, the same way she can’t prise out the pain straight from the source. i am the source. i hurt.)

                   -- she's thought about this moment. thought about the way her blade dips beneath the cover of her sleeve and the way the commander would stare back at her, or the way this would be her last move and -- and how she's okay with that. (i'm not afraid to die. i deserve it.) if it happens -- she's been gone long enough now that her absence back at camp isn't noted  -- they probably think she's dead already. she should be. so if it happens... she can handle a little more pain.

                                                         i hate her, is the overwhelming  rage that gouges at her stomach now. her heart's beating too fast when she approaches the throne room -- too fast and too hard and she thinks she's going to be sick -- thinks she's going to stop breathing. she doesn't want to come face to face with her, and that's a terrifying realisation that settles in her stomach. she's not afraid of the commander. she's not afraid of the kind of coward that -- ... that caused all this, but -- there's something there she doesn't know.

                        she’s greeted with lexa. but in her arms, there's a --

                                                                 oh.

she’s frozen. stares. her mouth opens, ready to show lexa exactly what she's missed in the past three months, and exactly what she's turned her into, but there's -- what the hell is going on?

what’s your biggest pet peeve when it comes to lgbtqa characterization in media?

Ya know it’d be great if they stopped murdering us for dramatic effect, but my absolute biggest pet peeve is seeing lgbtqa people (lesbians in particular because they love to do this to us) being portrayed as sexual predators. I remember watching Pitch Perfect Two, with it being implied the lesbian girl was touching other girls after they fell asleep. I’m not sure if it was supposed to be funny or what but it lit me on fire. And that’s just the most blatant example I see. Lgbtqa relationships are constantly stereotyped or portrayed as down right abusive. It took Lexa getting on her knees swearing never to treat Clarke like she did at Mount Weather for be to get on board the Clexa train because the media constantly portrays one or both partners in a non-het relationship being shitty and the other one just being ok with it and then calling that love. The Originals has Freya/Keelin right now, a woman she kept locked up in a barn, chained to a post, extracting venom from her mouth, a woman Freya tortured and threatened and blackmailed and pushed away, now they’re ay-ok.

Some people want to come back at me and say “yeah but that’s how a lot of media is now days” and that’s totally true, but it’s different for us. It’s different because if I’m in a theater and I watch two straight characters get into a knock down drag out and the guy smacks her in the face, I, along with everyone else in the theater, will be like ‘wow that guy’s a douche bag’, but that’s not going to be what you base your opinion of heterosexual relationships on. We as a community are terribly under represented and when we’re represented wrong it tells other people who don’t know a lot about lgbtqa relationships that this is what we’re like. There’s already this long standing belief that we’re taboo and wrong, and even if it’s subtly, even if it’s by treating us like everyone else, they reinforce that idea when they misrepresent our community.

what’s your favorite parts of lgbtqa characterization in media?

How can I pick a favorite part of something that isn’t there???? Like I’m not just being salty but I don’t have enough positive material to go on to make a generalization. I can say what I love about individual things like Clexa or (yes I’m a huge sap) Imagine Me and You or Gia but as far as in general, I’m not super impressed with lgbtqa media.

what did your teachers say about the lgbtqa community in school?

In elementary school I heard about lgbtqa people about as much as I saw unicorns. I don’t know if that’s because it was purposefully avoided as a topic, or because I’ve spent the majority of my life with my head in the clouds. In my younger years, I never heard anything about it.

In middle and high school I was home schooled and my teacher consisted of my highly religious mother and a bunch of pre-recorded videos of very strange people that I had no difficulty understanding why they weren’t teaching in a real school. 

imagine thinking this way ahshskdjdjdjd clarke and niylah has nothing to do with bellamy

to each their own my dude. i personally analyze niyl/arke’s relationship as one where niy/lah serves as a source of comfort for clarke when she gets distressed, and while clarke obviously cares for her, it’s not much more than comfort. in this case, clarke is distressed over bellamy (you can decide the specific), and so in this case, in my opinion, this instance does have everything to do with bellamy.

WHO ELSE DO YOU THINK I MEANT YOU DORK IT’S YOUR LAP TO LAY IN.

  the pain that thrummed in her ears was stronger, louder than klark’s voice. it hadn’t subsided since the commander had come for her, since the imprisonment had ended, freeing her from what she had considered to be final. a rescue had been foolish, not worth the trouble, yet it had been done. lexa had told them nothing, she would have continued to tell them nothing even until the end        even if she had woken in the cells until her eyes refused to open.

       it hadn’t come to that, though. klark’s hands pressed against her cuts, left a substance against her bruises, made certain both were clean        all while she laid, unable to help, unable to sleep due to the pain. each brush against her flesh drew more blood from the wounds, though they had to be cared for, lest they get infected        so she was told. the sight of crimson didn’t trouble her anymore, the sight had become as normal as anything else.

   a hand slipped down, trapping a wrist, refusing to let it leave her side. being alone was beyond unfavorable, even for a moment.  “ please don’t go. ”

          her hands are coarse, pocked with scarred tissue and toughened skin, but the touch is soft. had she the chance, she'd devote more time to healing. helping. but she knows enough -- enough to apply the right pressure to the right spot, or the right root to the right wound. so there’s ground wort coating her fingers, pressing against the poultice -- it's cool against her skin. (cool and dark and don't think she can't see the blood because there's only a small part of her that's able to block it out in order to focus.)

klark stays quiet, offering little besides the occasional word on progress -- i'll clean up after.  the wound's deep, stop moving. (her mind's occupied, chewing over the rage and the hurt and -- she knows herself. knows that if she stops, and if she breathes, it'll consume her. lexa needs this first -- the anger comes later.)

                 she’s not sure if she was planning on leaving. at this point, she's not sure of anything. that's the danger. that's -- why she's hurt. i may as well have stuck the knife in you myself.

                               ‘---- i'm not going anywhere, lexa.'     that decides it, with the way her eyes flicker down to their hands then back to her face. i'm not going anywhere. i'm here. the hardness cracks that quickly. she touches over the back of her hand -- just barely, enough so she can feel it, and nods.