#<- no it’s. monday actually. my sense of time has just been fucked this whole week xx

[rollercoasterwords]

monday snippet

@fruityindividual ty 4 the tag posting here of course tho…here’s a bit of wfrau ch 25 (spoiler warning etc):

“Alright,” Sirius says, again, once Potter finishes speaking. He turns towards the door, expectantly—the wards are still up, and he’ll need Potter to remove them to get out. But the other man hesitates, seeming suddenly unsure.

“Hang on,” he says, haltingly, “There’s…here.”

He’s pulling something out of his pocket. An envelope. He passes it over, and Sirius accepts, automatically. The name Remus is written on the front.

“It’s a letter,” Potter says, though Sirius is only half-listening. “You left it for him, but he didn’t…well. I thought you might want it back. Might help fill in some of the gaps.”

“Thanks,” Sirius hears himself say.

no-pressure tags…if any of u r writing something & you’d like 2 share etc: @steelycunt @sectoren @twisted-tales-told @pretentiouswreckingball

[ctimenefic]

I know the admins have probably already driven the joke into the ground but if anyone wanted a short meditation on Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, daddy kink and a side of landoscar and carcar, boy, do I have that under the cut

Lando should’ve had enough of thinking by 1am on the Monday morning after the Monaco GP. There hadn’t been much to do but think during the race - ask about the gap to George, think, gain half a second on Carlos, think, catch a glimpse of the battle for 12th somehow two whole laps behind him, think. And in the end, cross the line exactly where he started, because it was fucking Monaco on zero pit stops, and Charles was never going to gamble, so neither could anyone else. 

Maybe it’s too much time spent playing percentages without ever taking a fucking risk, but as he flops back into a VIP booth he finds himself weighing the odds again. Charles is soaking wet for the third time that day - first champagne, second the harbour swill, and now some rank mix of vodka, sweat and liquid fucking joy oozing out of his with every flail. It’s disgusting and adorable and Lando will not be accepting any comparisons to Miami. Not home before sunrise, Lando reckons. Four piss-stop strategy, hah.

Oscar slides in opposite, a clutch of beers in hand, because he’s still super fucking awkward about bottle service at Jimmy’z coming via girls with tiny skirts, even though Lando has explained, like, four times by now, that is kind of the point of bottle service.  “Not taking a spin on the decks?” Oscar asks, because he’s secretly fifty years old. 

“Nah, tracks were mid. Not dancing?”

Oscar shoots a look over his shoulder at the increasingly large space around the second prince of Monaco. “Ah, no. Might’ve had a boring race but I don’t need to take my life in my hands.”

And that’s when it happens. The line just materialises in his brain, as instinctive as correcting for understeer. 

Not even with your new daddy? 

He barely gets ahead of it, teeth slamming shut after an inhale. And his brain starts racing, harder than he raced all fucking weekend. He’s got a rep for saying stupid shit off the cuff, but this one he thinks about. 

Maybe he says it, and Oscar snorts and drinks his beer, plays it off with a joke about his brother Leo, his uncle Arthur, whatever six new permutations of the joke have evolved as everyone with so much as a sniff at a paddock pass gets shitfaced in the same club.

Maybe he says it, and Oscar’s eyes widen, too taken aback to laugh, but weirded out, and there’ll be a few stilted messages before Montreal wipes the slate clean. And Lando will play things straight, in all senses, til at least summer break.

Maybe he says it, and Oscar’s freckles disappear into the flush across his cheeks. He’ll dart another look back at Charles, shove his beers into Lando’s reach, and stride across the dancefloor to Charles and Carlos and Pierre. He’ll get his hands on Charles’ shoulders to steady him, when he beams back drunk and sloppy, and he’ll share some twist on Lando’s joke, wry and quiet and yet perfectly clear over the thump of what is objectively a mid remix. And Charles will listen and blink as the words leak through to what little remains of his conscious brain six hours after the fucking win of his life. Maybe then he’ll laugh, so loud Lando can hear it, and Carlos and Pierre too, and Oscar will look back at him and grin and sure, the remix is mid, but Lando kinda wants to dance actually. 

Maybe Charles won’t laugh. Because that’s another set of odds - Charles isn’t going home alone, he’s going to slip-stagger through the streets that love him in someone’s arms, maybe many someones. Maybe Charles won’t laugh, but he’ll hook a sweaty elbow round the back of Oscar’s neck, and get a grip in Oscar’s hair, and they’ll dance like they just got 1-2 in Monaco. Lando will be stuck in the fucking booth watching as Charles’s bracelets catch the lights when he winds his arms round Oscar’s neck, catch the flash of the stupid sponsor watch when Oscar puts a steady hand on his waist. And he can’t read lips, can’t know, but Oscar will lean close to say something in Charles’ ear, and Lando will know it’s “Daddy” a few hundredths before Charles gasps.  And it’ll be too public, Jimmy’z on a fucking GP Sunday, Carlos might let Charles burn alive but Pierre’ll keep it clean, but Lando will know, Charles will know, Oscar will know - il predestinato and the rookie who could, on a fucking collision course. 

Or maybe Charles won’t laugh, and he’ll get a grip in Oscar’s hair, and Oscar will lean close, and Pierre will steer them to the door, pull in George and Alex to run interference, because they understand appearances, and Charles will take Oscar back to his flat, the only place any of them have in Monaco that feels truly like a home (no offence to Kelly, but her decorating is straight out of Pinterest’s Most Wanted). Oscar’ll fit there, among the knick knacks and family photos and all the shit Charles still has because he didn’t move every six months of his teens; Oscar’ll earnestly compliment some quilt or throw that was made by Charles’ 107-year-old grandmother and Charles’ll look at him with those huge doe eyes, and the fog of alcohol will clear but the intent will still be there, hot and possessive. Maybe Oscar doesn’t need to call him daddy now because Charles is smart enough to see a trophy when it’s in his hands. So he’ll press him up against his piano because what neighbour is going to complain about noise the night Monaco’s man won the GP, even if chords turn to the half-shouts of a beautiful boy being fucked out, the squeak of sweat-soaked skin on polished ebony. Lando will wake up with his mouth tasting like death and a short message letting him know he’ll be alone on the McLaren jet, unless he offers George a lift, and he’ll have to decide what’s worse, styling it out or feeling George look at him every few minutes, long fingers on the executive-suite sick bag they hide down the side of the seat. 

But maybe Charles will laugh, and Pierre will laugh, but Carlos won’t. Carlos’s jaw will work like he’s taking a grid place penalty for a racing incident, and then he will laugh, but low, mocking. Osc’ll turn, already annoyed, shoulders rising, but Carlos will drop a lazy hand on the nape of his neck and squeeze as he gestures with the other, back and forth, a two-fingered point and shake at Charles, then tapping twice on his own chest for emphasis. He’ll tug Oscar in closer, and there’ll be some of their usual animosity in it, too much strength, Oscar’s chin tilted forwards. Carlos will set his mouth against Oscar’s ear and say “he can’t be your daddy”, or whatever, the smooth operator equivalent, except Carlos is never smooth, just raw and fucked up and hot enough to blast through anyone’s higher brain function. So Oscar will follow when Carlos saunters out, and only someone who knows him well will be able to see beyond that blank expression that he’s practically shellshocked. Carlos won’t notice; Carlos will take him to a hotel room, tease him about putting him on his knees in the parking garage, in the elevator, somewhere where the cold could seep through Oscar’s unbearably thin trousers, but only really send him down once they're behind a locked door with plush carpet underfoot, because Carlos is a bit of a bastard but really good at casual, considerate without it coming across as anything so frightening as real feelings. He’ll tell Oscar to say it again, say it until he’s hoarse, and if Oscar chokes on the word that’ll be nothing to Carlos’s dick, not when Carlos has something to prove and three hours of staring at Oscar’s rear wing to motivate him. And Lando won’t fly out alone, but Oscar’ll be quiet and rumpled and he’ll ask for extra lemon in his fucking ice water and that’ll be worse, so much worse. 

So maybe he doesn’t say it. Maybe that’s it, and they dance and they drink and nothing changes. Seventy-eight laps and he finishes where he started, Oscar one position out of reach. 

Or. 

Or he says it, and Oscar says, “What.”

He says it, and Oscar says, “Sorry, repeat that?”

He says it, and Oscar says, “I don’t think you want me calling Charles daddy.”

He says it, and Oscar says, “Say that again. No, just the last word. Say it to me.”

And Lando will- he’ll- he’s going to-

His race stutters out. He blinks, and the mid remix hits the chorus again. 

Oscar’s looking at him, a half smile on his face. Slightly expectant, like he’s learnt to anticipate one of Lando’s jokes. 

Lando opens his big fat mouth. 

[svnoohe4rts]

bed of lies ; part four

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↳ PAIRING: park sunghoon x fembodied!reader

↳ SUMMARY: sunghoon comes to terms with the fact that he has fallen in love with you and is willing to do everything in his power to show you that he has truly fallen for you, but are you willing to forgive him?

↳ WORDCOUNT: 9.6k

↳ WARNINGS: cursing, angst, yelling (sunghoon and reader raising their voices at one point), mentions puke but there’s no actual throwing up, smut; unprotected sex (please use protection!), breeding (kind of), marking, fingering, choking, pet names etc MINORS DNI!

↳ AUTHORS NOTE: and with that being said, bed of lies has officially come to an end ! i wanna thank everyone for their endless support and all ur kind words, i’ve had so much fun writing this story and i feel like i’ve gotten better as a writer by writing this as well. i also wanna give a big thank u to genie, also known as @end-hyphen for helping me through my writers block and literally helping me plot this last part; thank u from the bottom of my heart genie, i love u and thank u so so much <3 i hope u guys enjoy this last part and hopefully you’ll tune into my next project as well, game over ! i love every single one of u and thank u once again <3

↳ TAGLIST: @duolingofanaccount @sunoosbeststan @valentineyun0 @yizhoutv @jays-blue @mocha-bbys @spiderrenjunfics @nyanggk @25dejulho @skzenhalove @loves0ft @sunnyjayjays @fallingforhoon @hoonsthoughts @sunghoonmybeloved @spearbvnss @sunnyjayjays @abdiitcryy @hooniewnderland @cloverscloud @mulligrubssss @rikkiloveskpop @enhasengene @dearhee​ 

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Sunghoon felt like smashing his phone into pieces until there was no trace left of his phone and the stupid robotic voice that had repeatedly been reminding him of how badly he fucked up. His bottom lip was practically bleeding by now, a result of him constantly nibbling on it to somewhat ease his anxiety; not that it necessarily helped, but at least it helped him focus on something other than calling your phone over and over again.

He wasn’t sure if you had blocked his number or if you simply had just turned your phone off, both being equally as bad according to him. It had already been two days since Sunghoon last saw you, two days since Jake had decided it would be a good idea to expose Sunghoon and the stupid bet; all Sunghoon wanted to know was if you were okay.

After you left, Jay dragged Jake away to calm the boy down; not wanting to risk a fight breaking out and the neighbors potentially calling the cops. Sunghoon was just left standing there alone as the people around him went back to the party, shrugging the whole situation off; but only after Sunghoon told them to fuck off, that there was no fight happening and they should mind their own business. Or at least that’s what Sunghoon thought, that they had just shrugged it off.

It wasn’t until he was left completely alone he dared let a tear spill down his cheek. He was quick to wipe it away, but quickly realized it was useless as he felt yet another tear run down his cheek; accepting the fact that he was in fact crying. He hadn’t cried in years, yet there he was; standing on a dimly lit street, tears leaving his eyes as he desperately tried wiping them away using the sleeve of his shirt.

As he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, his eyes feeling sore at this point from the never-ending tears spilling down his cheeks, his feelings finally made sense. The confusion he felt towards you suddenly disappeared as he accepted his feelings, no longer fighting against the fact that he, Park Sunghoon, had indeed fallen for you. He accepted the fact that not only had he for the first time in his entire life fallen in love, but he had also managed to fuck it all up.

As Monday approached, the people around you didn’t even try to hide their stares as you walked down the hallways.

You weren’t sure if they were staring at you because of your puffy and bloodshot eyes, or because they had all been there to witness your whole world coming crashing down. Deep down you knew it was probably because of the latter option, considering the fact that they had all been there to be a part of the news reaching you and how fast people were to talk; especially when it came to Park Sunghoon.

You knew the word would get around quickly, because why wouldn’t it?

Park Sunghoon had managed to play yet another girl, keeping her a little too close and then disposing of her like she meant nothing. Of course, people were going to talk about it, especially since he decided to do it in the cruelest way possible; by telling you that you were nothing but a bet in front of a whole party filled with people to see.

To be fair, it hadn’t been Sunghoon telling you; it was Jake. But if that was supposed to make things better, you weren’t sure. Maybe it only made things a thousand times worse, considering the fact that you didn’t even get to hear it from Sunghoon himself; but at his point, you couldn’t even bring yourself to care.

You were drained. You were drained both mentally and psychically, spending the entire weekend laying in your bed; your heart aching as tears poured out of your eyes. You had left the party without notifying Yeojin, knowing that if you stayed there for as much as another minute, you’d throw up. You had to cover your mouth as you stumbled home, afraid you’d actually puke if you let go; the shock of knowing everything was a lie made you feel sick to your stomach. 

Maybe you should’ve reached out to Yeojin, maybe you should’ve called her when you got home and explained the situation before she go to hear it from someone else, but you simply couldn't. You just couldn’t bring yourself to pick up your phone, not to mention even unlocking it; afraid you’d see Park Sunghoons name light up your screen. So instead, you turned it off completely, tossing it on top of your bed before running to the bathroom; tears spilling down your cheeks as you tried your best to calm yourself down.

That’s how you spent the whole weekend. Your phone turned off, refusing to accept reality - refusing to accept the fact that it had all been nothing but a lie. If you had been a shitty friend for hiding everything from Yeojin and lying straight to her face whenever she asked, you didn’t even want to know what she thought of you now that she most likely found out about how you and Sunghoon had been hooking up through someone else. Not only had you lied to her for weeks on end, but you were also making yourself unreachable by leaving your phone turned off; making you the worst friend possible.

Your thoughts were all over the place. You felt cheated by Sunghoon, wanting to smack yourself for believing in his sweet acts for even a second. But somewhere along the lines, you became aware of the fact that it wasn’t just Sunghoons doing. No, Jake had known about the bet all along yet he never once tried telling you about it. You weren’t sure which one hurt you the most, Sunghoon making you believe he actually felt something towards you or Jake not telling you about the bet in the first place. Even though Sunghoon might’ve been the one who hurt you the most, you couldn’t help but feel betrayed by Jake. 

But at the end of the day, Jake didn’t owe you a single thing; no matter how nice he'd been to you. He wasn’t your friend nor he didn’t care about you, and neither did Sunghoon.

As Monday came around and you had to face reality, you just accepted the fact that you would eventually have to face Yeojin and the horrible truth. The horrible truth being that there was no way you’d be able to avoid Sunghoon, you knew you had to face him sooner or later. No matter how badly you wished you never had to see him and his stupid face ever again, and after many nights spent in tears and even considering switching schools just so you’d never have to see him again; you realized it was inevitable.

Sunghoon had barged into your life, and he was now refusing to leave.

And even though you accepted the fact that going to school was something you had to do, no matter how badly you wanted to stay in your bed and never see the light of day again; it didn’t make it any easier. As you approached the entrance, you had to take a deep breath before walking through the doors; mentally preparing yourself.

But you knew from the second you stepped through the doors and everyone's eyes immediately landed on you that you had overestimated your ability to mentally prepare yourself. It felt like the whole world was suffocating you as you made your way down the hallway, desperately trying to hide your face as the people around you seemed to have their attention set on you, and you only.

Fuck you Park Sunghoon.

It wasn’t a coincidence that you picked the exact same bench that you and Sunghoon had shared your first official hang-out. No, you had picked that one particular bench to sit down at - even though there were at least ten other benches nearby. You tried telling yourself you only picked that one bench because the trees placed around it shielded you from the cold winds better than any other bench, but you knew that was a lie.

The trees had nothing to do with that particular bench being the one you picked out to sit down and sort your thoughts out, and you knew that. You knew that you had picked that one bench purely because it reminded you of Sunghoon, no matter how badly you tried telling yourself otherwise. At the end of the day, Sunghoon was the only thing you could think about even though you despised him.

Or at least that’s what you liked to think. Because you didn’t despise him, no matter how much you tried you simply just couldn’t. No matter how many tears you had shed over him over the past four days, no matter how many times you screamed into your pillow in a desperate attempt to ease the pain; you simply just couldn’t hate him.

A part of you even found it funny, funny how easy it had been for him to have you wrapped around his fingers. How easy it had been for you to fall into his bed of lies, not even thinking twice before letting him completely submerge you in his world of lies; how easily he made you believe he actually cared about you.

It had all been too easy for him, and you were the only one to blame. You were the one who stupidly fell for his charming smile and his sweet nothings after all.

‘’Y/N?’’ The sudden mention of your name caused you to snap out of your thoughts, a slight sting causing you to realize you had unconsciously been picking a little too hard on the skin surrounding your nails. Your eyes darted towards the person who had just called out your name, your eyes being met by a pair of dark brown ones. 

Jake’s eyes were filled with both worry and regret as he stared at you, both his hands placed in the front pockets of his jeans; nervously nibbling on his bottom lip. Your eyes slightly widened at the sight of him, not a single word leaving your lips as you stared right back at him. 

You just stared at him for a moment before returning your gaze back to your shoes, dangling your feet across the gravel as you felt him sit down next to you. Silence fell over the two of you, spotting him nervously playing with the rings on his fingers in the corner of your eyes; your silence making it obvious that his presence wasn’t exactly appreciated.  ‘’You deserve an apology.’’ He let out after a while, his eyes now focusing on your side profile; hoping you’d look his way.

Your gaze, however, stayed glued to your shoes. You remained silent, your shoes slightly scraping against the gravel as they dangled back and forth. Jake quickly realized you weren’t going to reply, letting out a small sigh as his gaze left your side profile only to meet his own shoes.

‘’I was an asshole for doing it like that,’’ He mumbled, his hand still toying with the rings placed on his fingers. ‘’I was an asshole for even telling you in the first place.’’ He continued, causing you to shake your head. ‘’I’m glad you told me.’’ You mumbled in response. Now, it was Jake’s turn to shake his head.

‘’It wasn’t my place to tell you though.’’ He admitted, his eyes darting over to look at you once again. ‘’But at least you told me, unlike some other people.’’ 

Your reply made Jake frown, his heart sinking as he noticed the sullen look on your face. He remained quiet for a moment, trying to figure out how to properly apologize to you; how to make you realize he was actually sorry. ‘’I’m sorry Y/N, I really am,’’ He let out, his eyes still glued on you. You looked up at him, flashing him a small smile. ‘’It’s okay Jake, you have nothing to apologize for. At least you were being honest with me and I appreciate that.’’

Jake stared at you, his eyes focusing on the small smile that you had attempted to flash him. But it wasn’t a smile and Jake knew that, he could tell by the way the corners of your lips slightly turned downwards that you were just trying to reassure him that you were okay; even though you weren’t. You were far from okay. 

‘’But it’s not okay,’’ He mumbled as his eyes met yours once again. ‘’What I did was far from okay. I would blame it on the fact that I was incredibly pissed and the alcohol in my system, but that doesn’t make what I did okay whatsoever,’’ He continued, not taking his eyes off you as he spoke. ‘’I was an asshole Y/N, and I’m truly sorry for the pain I’ve caused you.’’

His words left you speechless. Your lips slightly parted as you stared at him, his eyebrows slightly furrowed together as he scanned your face; trying to figure out what you were feeling. But the stern look on your face didn’t make it any easier for him to try to make out what feelings you were feeling, all he could do was hope that you believed him when he said he was sorry. ‘’I forgive you, Jake.’’ You replied after a moment, a small smile forming on your lips once again. This time, Jake could tell the smile on your lips was genuine - causing a small smile to form on his lips as well. ‘’Thank you.’’ He mumbled in response, watching as your gaze returned to the gravel underneath the two of you.

Silence fell over the two of you once again, but this time the silence was much more comfortable and not as tense as before. ‘’Y/N?’’ He let out, causing you to look up at him with your eyebrows slightly raised. You hummed in response, watching as he nibbled on his bottom lip. ‘’I think you should hear Sunghoon out.’’

The mention of Sunghoon made your heart drop. You stared at the boy beside you for a moment before looking down at the ground ocne again, avoiding eye contact as you shook your head. ‘’I don’t think there’s anything left for him to say.’’ You mumbled in response, the thought of even seeing him making your heart burst at the seams. 

‘’I think he really cares for you, Y/N.’’ Jake’s words almost made you laugh, a small chuckle leaving your lips as you kicked a stone away using the top part of your shoes. ‘’I don’t think you do what he did to people you care about though.’’ You dryly replied, feeling Jake’s eyes burning into the side of your face.

‘’I can’t force you into anything,’’ Jake continued, suddenly feeling a warmth cover one of your hands. The sensation caused you to furrow your eyebrows as you looked up from the ground, your eyes landing on the hand you had placed on the empty spot beside you on the bench; Jake now covering it with his own. ‘’But I truly believe you should hear him out.’’ Jake breathed, your eyes meeting his. You just stared at him, feeling his thumb stroke the back of your hand; a small smile on his lips as he looked at you with sympathetic eyes.

‘’Have you spoken to him?’’ You were quick to change the subject, not knowing how to react to his hand covering your own; the smile on his lips slowly fading. A small sigh left his lips as he looked down at the ground. ‘’No, he’s been refusing to pick up my calls. He hasn't even been showing up at school.’’ He replied, feeling his hand slowly slip away from yours. This time, however, it was your turn to grab his hand.

Your action took him by surprise, his eyes landing on you once again. His eyes darted between your intertwined hands and your face, a small forming on your lips. ‘’I think it’s more important that you two make up.’’ You let out, his lips slightly parting like he was about to say something; but he remained silent for a moment. A small sigh left his lips once again as he nodded his head in response, swallowing before parting his lips to speak. ‘’I guess you’re right.’’ He mumbled, leaning back against the bench - your hands still intertwined. 

You let out a chuckle as you mimicked his actions, resting your back against the bench as you looked up at the trees above you. ‘’I’m always right.’’

A chuckle left his lips at your statement before another comfortable silence fell over the two of you. You weren’t complaining, it was the closest thing you had felt to inner peace since you first got to know about the whole bet situation. With Jake’s hand intertwined in yours and the spring breeze hitting your face, your heart felt lighter than it had done an hour earlier; all thanks to Jake. It felt oddly comforting, holding his hand, even though you knew you were just holding it as a friend. 

Maybe because that’s exactly what you needed at that moment, a friend; someone who understood what you were going through. 

But no matter how comforting it was to hold his hand, one name and one name only clouded your mind; the inner peace being shortlived as you couldn’t help but wish it was Sunghoons hand you were holding, no matter how badly you wanted to hate him.

The words reached Sunghoon about three days later, three days too late.

 After countless days of trying to call you, restless nights spent staring at his phone; waiting for you to reach out, the words of you being spotted holding hands with Jake reached him. At this point he didn’t even care if you told him how much you despised him, all he wanted was to hear from you. It didn’t matter what you had to say, he was just desperate for any type of interaction at this point.

But hearing about you and Jake was something he hadn’t anticipated, nor was it something he wished to hear.

As he read the text from Jay, telling him that he should really make up with Jake as it seemed like you and Jake already made up; confusion washed over him. It wasn’t until Jay let him know that the two of you were seen holding hands earlier that week that Sunghoon put the pieces together.

With shaky hands, he pressed on Jay’s contact information before bringing the phone to his ear; nibbling on his lip. ‘’Bro, I’ve been calling you for days,’’ Jay’s voice indicated that he was clearly annoyed with his friend. Sunghoon wasn’t stupid, nor was he blind; of course he had seen the multiple missed calls from his best friend. ‘’What the fuck was that text supposed to mean?’’

The other line went quiet for a second before a small sigh left Jay’s lips. ‘’What’s up with you?’’ Jay asked, a hint of concern lingering in his voice. But Sunghoon didn’t want that, fuck, he couldn’t care less about his own feelings right now. Sunghoon rubbed his temple in annoyance as he shut his eyes. ‘’Just tell me what you meant by Jake and Y/N holding hands.’’

Another sigh was heard from the other line. ‘’What else do you want me to tell you? It seems like they’ve made up, they were literally seen holding hands earlier this week,’’ The words made Sunghoon squeeze his eyes shut, feeling tears well up behind his eyelids once again; the tears he was so sick of by now. ‘’Earlier this week?’’ Sunghoon mumbled, not even sure if his friend could hear him.

‘’Look, I get that Jake was a complete asshole for doing what he did but why do you care? You’re being petty.’’ Jay muttered, causing Sunghoon to clench his jaw. ‘’It’s not about Jake,’’ Sunghoon muttered through his teeth, causing Jay to let out a chuckle. ‘’Then what is it about? Don’t tell me it’s about her, why does she matter t-’’

Sunghoon quickly ended the call, throwing his phone on the floor as he placed both hands over his face. He desperately tried holding his tears back at this point, refusing to let a single one drop onto his cheeks as he let out a curse.

He felt betrayed. Not only by Jake, but by you as well. He felt hurt, almost feeling like you were punishing him. How could you forgive Jake, but not even utter a word to Sunghoon? Sunghoon was well aware of the fact that he was the problem, that he was the one who had originally hurt you and Jake probably did him a favor at the end of the day for telling you.

But how could you forgive Jake, when Sunghoon was practically down on his knees begging for forgiveness? A part of him understood, because who wouldn’t? Jake was there, he had been waiting, almost prying on you for a month now; waiting to clean up the mess Sunghoon caused. 

His world came crashing down once again, and with his heart feeling like it was about to tear at the seams; he did the only thing he could’ve possibly done, the thing he was best at.

Your house felt awfully quiet. The TV was silently playing in the background as you sat on your couch, watching the tree tops sway from the wind outside, you had lost interest in the TV show you were watching a long time ago and you now found yourself lost in your own thoughts.

That was until a loud banging interrupted your wandering mind. The banging took you by surprise, slightly jumping as your head snapped towards the hallway. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you realized it was someone banging on the door, slowly getting up as you made your way towards the door. You weren’t expecting anyone and your parents wouldn’t be home for at least another day, your mind racing as you tried figuring out who was suddenly banging loudly on your door.

The second you unlocked the door and it crept open, your heart stopped beating. You wanted to slam the door shut, you wanted to scream in his face for coming to your house the second you spotted his familiar dark brown eyes; yet you couldn’t bring yourself to move an inch. You felt panic slowly creeping up on you as your eyes met, noticing his furrowed brows and his tired eyes, your whole body froze on the spot.

‘’What the fuck, Y/N?’’

Was the only thing Sunghoon let out as soon as the door opened. Mainly because he couldn’t bring himself to say anything else, his heart dropping at the sight of you; but also because it was the only thing he wanted to say.

But also because he was too drunk to even think straight. Not only did you notice the anger and hurt lingering in his eyes, but you also noticed that the boy standing at your front door at 1 am on a Friday night was in fact, not sober. If it wasn’t the way he had to grab onto the wall to stand upright, it was the way his eyelids were heavy and his cheeks rosy red that gave it away the second you opened the door.

Your lips parted as you tried speaking; failing to do so. ‘’Sunghoon?’’ You managed to get out, your voice shaking as you tried taking in the fact that the boy you had been avoiding for days on end was now standing right in front of you.

‘’Why?’’ Sunghoon completely ignored you and your obvious confusion. ‘’Why?’’ He repeated himself, his eyes still glued to you. He was getting impatient at this point, he was getting impatient with you; growing even more frustrated as you only stood there without answering any of his questions. 

You, on the other side, had no idea what he was referring to. ‘’Why are you here?’’ You let out, scanning the boy in front of you. A dry chuckle left Sunghoons lips as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. ‘’Are you fucking serious?’’ He hissed, squinting his eyes as he looked at you.

‘’You’ve been ignoring me for days, and you’re surprised I’m here?’’ He continued, the tone of his voice indicating that he was only growing even more impatient. You stared at him for a moment, surprised at the tone of his voice; raising your eyebrows. ‘’You’re drunk,’’ You muttered before closing the door, trying not to break down right there and then. 

The last thing you needed right now was Sunghoon showing up at your door unannounced and drunk, just to get angry with you.

Sunghoon, however, was not planning on leaving. He was quick to grab the door handle, stopping you from closing it; fully opening it back up again. ‘’What the fuck?’’ You exclaimed, now getting defensive as he refused to leave. ‘’No, you don’t get to do that,’’ He let out, stepping inside. You stared at him as he invited himself into your house, the shock and fear of facing him being replaced by anger. 

The anger slowly faded as you watched him slightly stumble on his own feet, and if he hadn’t grabbed the wall right beside him, he most likely would’ve fallen onto the floor. Acting on pure instinct, you quickly went to grab his arm to prevent him from falling; retracting it just as quickly when you realized what you were doing. Your arm fell down your side once again, your eyes meeting his.

He ran his fingers through his messy hair, a sigh escaping his lips as he continued to grab onto the wall in an attempt to stabilize himself. ‘’Can I please sit down for a moment?’’ He mumbled, the anger that had previously lingered in his voice nowhere to be found as he spoke. You stared at him for a moment, considering your options.

There was no way he’d be able to get himself home like that. You weren’t a horrible person and you would never let someone walk home in the middle of the night on their own, especially when they can barely stand up straight. Not even Park Sunghoon.

‘’Go sit on the couch and I’ll call Jake so he can come to pick you up.’’

After pressing the call button for what felt like the hundredth time, a sigh escaped your lips as you impatiently tapped your foot against the wooden floor.

You could see Sunghoon sitting on the couch from where you were standing, leaning against the kitchen countertop as you nervously picked at your nails; his forearms resting on top of his thighs, his head hanging with his gaze glued to the floor. You had been trying to reach Jake for almost five minutes at this point, each and every call going straight to voice message. 

As you once again reached Jake’s voice message, you realized he wasn’t going to pick up. You would have to deal with Sunghoon yourself.

“Sunghoon.” He immediately sat up straight as he heard your voice call out to him, his eyelids not looking as heavy anymore. ‘’Jake’s not picking up his phone, do you have anyone else that could come pick you up?’’ Sunghoon hated the way you spoke to him, like he was a child. He didn’t need anyone picking him up. What he needed was to stay right where he was, with you. He needed to stay with you before he lost his mind. ‘’No, Jay’s visiting his family so he’s not home,’’ He dryly mumbled, his eyes meeting the floor below him once again.

Another sigh left your lips, closing your eyes as you tried to figure out a way to get the boy to leave your house.

‘’Why did you come here, Sunghoon?’’ You let out after a moment of silence, your eyes fluttering open; landing on the boy sitting across the room.

Yet another short silence fell upon the two of you. He just stared at you, his lips slightly parting. ‘’Because I needed to see you.’’ Was all he let out, his eyes still glued to you. You slightly furrowed your eyebrows, both in annoyance and confusion, shaking your head. ‘’No, you could’ve gone to anyone else. Why would you come here?’’

“Because you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”

“Don’t say shit you don’t mean.” 

Never had you ever talked to him in that tone before, it was a tone he never thought he’d hear lingering in your voice. The warmth and comfort he usually found in your voice was long gone as the words spilled past your lips, your words almost taking him by surprise - no, they did take him by surprise.

Maybe your coldness was something he had coming, after all; but the way you had allowed him to sober up on your couch had somewhat convinced him that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t fucked up as badly as he had originally thought.

“But I do mean it,”

Even in his drunken state, he could tell by the way your eyes remained on the floor that his words only made things worse. But how could he refrain from letting his thoughts pour out, when he was only telling you the truth?

He failed to understand that right now, however, was not the right moment for him to speak his truth.

“We both know you’re an incredible liar.” Your words were sharp and it was definitely not the right moment for Sunghoon to laugh, but he couldn’t help it as a chuckle left his lips. Nothing about the situation was particularly funny, him showing up your house drunk and you clearly being uncomfortable with him being around, yet something about it felt so ironic to Sunghoon.

‘’What did you expect me to do? I’ve been trying to reach you for days,’’ He exclaimed, causing you to stop in your tracks.

You stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what was actually going through his head. ‘’Because I don’t want to see you, Sunghoon, so why on earth would you even consider showing up like this?’’ You hissed at him, anger building up inside of you as you tried to make him realize he had practically disrespected your privacy in the worst way possible. ‘’But you wanna see Jake, hm?’’

The mention of Jake took you aback. Your eyes widened as you stared at him, his jaw clenched as he stared back at you. His eyes looked darker than usual, and you only now noticed the obvious bags under his eyes; something you had failed to notice before. Taking a better look at him, you realized he looked awful. ‘’What?’’ You let out, still not taking your eyes off him. Another chuckle left his lips, 

‘’Don’t act stupid, you were holding his hand for everyone to see.’’ He hissed at you, his eyebrows furrowed together. You stared at him for a moment before a chuckle left your own lips, taking both you and Sunghoon by surprise. ‘’Is that what this is about?’’ You hissed back, not believing the words leaving his lips. This time, it was Sunghoons turn to be left stunned, not expecting you to snap back at him like that. 

‘’You have no fucking right to show up like this,’’ You let out, pointing your finger at him. ‘’and be upset about something that doesn’t concern you in the first place.’’ You continued, your finger meeting the fabric covering his chest. ‘’Get a fucking grip.’’ You hissed, fighting the urge to slap him across the face.

‘’Fuck you Y/N,’’ Sunghoon breathed, shaking his head as he spoke; standing up from the couch. You shook your head, your eyes widening. ‘’No, Sunghoon, fuck you,’’ You let out, keeping your eyes on him. ‘’Fuck you and fuck your entitled ass, you broke my heart, why can’t you just be satisfied with that?’’ You continued, your finger still pointed at him. ‘’Was that not enough? Did playing me like that not satisfy you and your sick fucking mind? You just had to come here and act all fucking mighty?’’

At this point, you could no longer control your thoughts nor could you control your emotions. You were so busy practically yelling at him that you failed to notice the tears now making their way down your cheeks. ‘’You’re fucking miserable Sunghoon, does this feed your ego? Did breaking my heart feed your fucking ego?’’ At this point, you were rambling. You no longer had any idea what you were actually saying, you just let all the emotions you had felt the last couple of days pour out of you. 

‘’Y/N,’’ Sunghoon mumbled after what felt like an eternity. ‘’No, have you not done enough?’’

‘’Y/N, you’re crying.’’

His words interrupted you, your lips parted as you stared at him. You slowly brought one of your hands to your face, your fingertips grazing over the skin; realizing that you were in fact crying. Your gaze met the floor, your fingers desperately trying to wipe away the tears spilling down your cheeks; not wanting him to see you cry. 

The two of you stood there in silence for a moment, an eerie silence creeping up on the two of you as you still trying to wipe away the tears that were still spilling down your cheeks as he watched you.

He wanted to grab you, pull you into his chest, and just let you cry. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to kiss your forehead and tell you over and over how sorry he was; that breaking your heart didn’t feed his ego, that he never meant for it to be this way. But by the way you had just lashed out at him, he knew he had no right to show up at your house in the first place nor was it his place to comfort you.

‘’Why would you just show up like this?’’ You mumbled after a while, your gaze still fixated on the wooden floor underneath you. ‘’I’m sorry,’’ Sunghoon mumbled, his eyes still glued on your figure; fighting the urge to comfort you. But as you covered your face using both your hands, he could no longer fight the urge to pull you into his chest.

To his surprise, you didn’t fight back. You just let him wrap his arms around your figure, pulling you close to him; suppressed sobs leaving your lips. Sunghoon had to close his own eyes in order to fight back his own tears as he heard the broken sounds coming from you, resting his head on top of yours as he gently stroked your hair in a desperate attempt to calm you down.

You lashing out at him sobered him up and he now felt beyond stupid for even thinking about showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night. He knew that would be something he would have to think about later, as of right now the only thing he could possibly think about was you and the tears dripping onto his shirt.

This was the first time Sunghoon had ever comforted someone like this. If it had been anyone else sobbing into his chest, he most likely would’ve pushed them off; probably yelling at them not to do that. It was something he felt extremely uncomfortable doing, even the sight of someone else crying was enough for him to feel uncomfortable.

But you? You were a completely different story. Maybe because he was the cause of your pain and the reason behind the tears leaving your eyes, but also because you were someone he loved. You were someone he had fallen in love with, a feeling he didn’t even know he could experience. Yet you had somehow managed to get him to fall for you and damn, was it a bittersweet feeling. At least when you were sobbing into his shirt at 1 am on a Friday night, all thanks to him.

It took a while for your sobs to die down and for your breathing to go back to normal, Sunghoon slowly feeling you relax in his arms. He continued stroking your hair, while stroking your back with his other hand; doing everything he possibly could to calm you down. After a while, you felt his hand leave your hair, only to grab your cheek; causing you to look up at him.

You could see the concern on his face, his eyebrows furrowed together and his bottom lip placed in between his teeth as he scanned your face. He gently stroked your cheek using his thumb, wiping away the remaining tears that had dampened your skin. To him, you looked ethereal. Even with your cheeks red from crying, your eyelash stuck together from all the tears, you were still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Deep down he knew that he shouldn't, and so did you. But as his eyes darted between your eyes and lips, he could no longer hold it back. Leaning down, his lips met yours; his hand still caressing your cheek.

Just like one of the first times the two of you had hung out, he expected you to push him away and yell at him for kissing you; but you never did. Instead, you placed one of your hands on top of the hand placed on your cheek, pulling yourself even closer to him. His other hand sneaked around your waist, your soft lips moving against his own rough ones. As a small whimper left your lips, Sunghoon felt like bursting into tears; taking a steadier grip of your face as he roughly kissed you.

The two of you stumbled backward, lips still pressed together in a messy kiss; falling onto the couch behind you. Your back met the couch, Sunhoon hovering above you; pulling away from the heated kiss. You looked at him for a moment, your hands finding their way toward the back of his neck, your eyes darting between his eyes and lips.

You quickly slammed your lips against his once again, letting him get in between your legs so you could wrap them around his figure to bring him even closer. He placed one of his hands above your head to hold himself up while the other hand found its way to your waist, his nails digging into your skin as his tongue slipped into your mouth. A muffled moan left your lips as you felt him lightly grind his lower half against your core, grabbing onto his hair.

‘’I mean it when I say you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever fucking met Y/N,’’ He hissed as he pulled away from the kiss, grabbing your jaw before tilting your head to the side; your whole neck on display for him. ‘’The fucking prettiest.’’ He mumbled as his lips met the sensitive skin right under your ear, causing a small whimper to leave your lips as he continued to leave wet kisses down your neck.

‘’Sunghoon,’’ You whined, your eyes fluttering close from the pleasure of his lips sucking on your skin; the skin breaking upon his harsh sucking. ‘’I’m so sorry,’’ He mumbled against your skin, his lips traveling down to your collarbones, moving your shirt so no skin was left untouched by his lips. ‘’I promise you I’ll never make you cry like that again, fuck, I promise,’’ He murmured as his hand slipped under your shirt, slighly pulling it up so he could get a better view of your body before letting your head hit the couch once again; his lips attacking your sensitive skin.

At this point, you could no longer hold back the broken whimpers spilling from your lips as his tongue swiped across your skin. You were getting desperate for any type of friction, desperately grinding your core against his crotch, causing him to groan against your neck. You grabbed onto his hair once again, forcing him to look up at you before smashing your lips against his once again.

The kiss was just as rough as the previous one, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth; tugging at his hair as your tongue happily greeted his. ‘’I hate you,’’ You mumbled between kisses, causing yet another groan to leave his lips. ‘’I know baby, I know,’’ He mumbled as he pulled away, a string of saliva connected between the two of you. You were about to whine in protest as you suddenly felt one of his hand slip below the waistband of the sweatpants you were wearing; causing a gasp to leave your lips. ‘’So please let me make it up to you, okay?’’

He didn’t even give you time to respond before you felt his big hand cupping your core. He let out a hiss, pressing a kiss just below your ear as he ran two of his fingers up and down your slit. ‘’My good girl,’’ He whispered into your ear as he tapped your clit, another broken whimper leaving your mouth. ‘’Sunghoon, please,’’ You mumbled, arching your back of the couch, desperate for any touch at this point.

‘’Don’t worry, I’m not planning on teasing you tonight.’’ He mumbled back, his fingers slowly starting to draw circled over your now aching clit. A moan left your lips as his fingers began moving, grabbing onto his back as your eyes fluttered close once more. ‘’So wet for me baby,’’ He groaned into your ear, licking the sensitive skin as he spoke. ‘’More, please give me more,’’ You whimpered, feeling his lips latch onto your skin. ‘’Anything for you.’’

As he slipped a finger into you, another hiss left his lips. ‘’So, so wet,’’ He murmured as he slipped in yet another finger without any problem, slowly pumping them in and out of you. As his digits entered you, you let out another moan; pushing your lower body down, allowing him to go even deeper. ‘’I don’t think I even have to prep you, hm?’’ He murmured into your ear. You quickly shook your head, not feeling satisfied with just his fingers. 

He slowly retracted his fingers, running his fingers up and down your slit once more; coating it in your own arousal. He looked up at you, placing his forehead against yours before pressing his lips against yours once more. You quickly pulled your pants down, leaving you in just your underwear and the t-shirt you were wearing. His lips continued to move against your own as he fiddled with the belt of his pants, pulling both his pants and underwear down in one go.

His hard cock sprung up, hitting his abdomen as he kicked his pants off his legs. You broke the kiss, looking down at his cock, gently wrapping one of your hands around it. His tip was red and leaking pre-cum, a low groan leaving his lips as you began pumping his cock. You looked back up at him, your eyes meeting; him smashing his lips against yours once more. ‘’I need you now, please,’’ You mumbled against his lips, to which he only nodded in response; too busy enjoying the feeling of your tongue greeting his own as your hand wrapped around his cock.

After a while of you desperately trying to jerk him off, doing a questionable job at doing so considering the position you were in; with him hovering above you and his lips attached to yours in a hungry kiss. ‘’Do you want me to go get a condom?’’ He mumbled as he pulled away, causing you to shake your head in response. ‘’I want to feel you, Sunghoon.’’

Your words made his cock twitch, not a single word leaving his lips as he stared at you. He nibbled on his bottom lip as he stared at you, the girl of his dreams, laying underneath him; begging to get fucked by him. With your eyelashes still stuck together and your cheeks still red from crying, with your neck all bruised and red from his harsh kisses and sucking; the t-shirt you wore had ridden up your stomach, exposing the skin of your stomach - you simply looked like an angel to him. 

‘’Fuck.’’ He grunted, bringing his face closer to yours, capturing your lips in a kiss once again. But this time the kiss was much softer and not as harsh as the previous ones, this kiss was much more loving and not as hungry. It was more passionate. Which was exactly what Sunghoon wanted, he wanted you to know just how passionate he was about you.

Using his free hand, he grabbed his cock; stroking it a few times before lining it up against your entrance, rubbing his irritated tip against your clothed core. He simply just pushed the underwear to the side, not even bothering to take it off. He needed to feel you around him now.

A hiss left his mouth as he pushed the tip in, your arousal making it easy for him to enter you without any problems. He slowly pushed his hips forwards, looking down; watching the way his member disappeared into you with ease. A moan left your mouth as he pushed it all the way in, the feeling of your slick walls greeting him.

He stayed still for a moment, getting used to the feeling of being inside of you before slowly pulling back out. He looked back up at you, running one of his hands through your hair; keeping it at the back of your head as he began slowly thrusting in and out of you. The moans that spilled from your lips sounded like music to his ears, a groan leaving his own lips as he buried his head in the crock of your neck.

‘’I’m so sorry,’’ He mumbled as he snapped his hips forwards, a whimper leaving your lips as the sound of skin on skin filled the room. ‘’Words can’t explain how sorry I am.’’ He continued, feeling your nails dig into the skin on his back. ‘’Then show me.’’ Your words caused him to prop himself up, stopping his movements; his eyes meeting yours.

‘’Show me how sorry you are.’’

As soon as the whimper left your lips, he snapped his hips forwards once again. This time, the thrust was not as gentle as the previous ones, but much more aggressive; causing your nails to dig even deeper into his skin. ‘’I’ll fuck you hard if that’s what you want,’’ He hissed, his tip brushing against your g-spot. You nodded in response, your lips parted open as he thrusted into you even harder. ‘’I’ll show you just how sorry I am.’’

With that being said, he began pounding into you; just like you wanted. You were now a moaning mess as the tip of his cock reached even deeper, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. He grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he continued pounding into you. ‘’I want you to look at me,’’ He let out through gritted teeth, his nails digging into your skin. You only managed to moan in response as his hand traveled down your neck, his veiny hand wrapping around your neck instead.

He kept his eyes on you, even though your eyes were practically shut by now; loud moans leaving your throat as he pounded into you. The sound of his balls hitting your wet skin filled the room, almost drowned out by your moans and whimpers.

Sunghoon, however, was too busy studying your face to even notice the loud sounds coming from you. The way your eyebrows were furrowed as you took his cock, the way your mouth fell open as he hit that spot; he couldn’t help but notice all of it. He couldn’t help but groan as you whimpered his name, only thrusting into you even harder just to hear his name leave your lips over and over again. 

‘’I’m so close,’’ You suddenly let out, his hand wrapped around your throat making it hard for you to speak, only causing him to grab your throat even harder. ‘’Yeah? Touch yourself for me baby,’’ He grunted, watching as your hand shakily made its way down your stomach before slowly rubbing your own clit. He watched as you desperately rubbed your clit, speeding up his thrusts; wanting to see the pleasure overtake you.

At this point, both his arms were burning from propping himself up for too long; but he simply couldn’t care less. As he felt his own high approaching, the burning in his arms went away, and the look on your face as your orgasm approached made it all worth it. ‘’Fuck, Sunghoon,’’ You stuttered as your orgasm washed over you, your back arching off the couch once again, squeezing your eyes shut.

Sunghoon cursed under his breath as he replaced your hand with his own, quickly rubbing your clit; letting you ride out your own orgasm. ‘’Good girl,’’ He murmured into your ear, his thrusts slowly becoming sloppy. ‘’That’s my good girl.’’ He grunted as he felt you relax underneath him, your eyes still closed from the intense orgasm. Sunghoon was sure he’d have marks covering his back in the morning, not that he minded.

‘’Where do you want me to cum baby?’’ He let out, feeling his own orgasm about to wash over him. ‘’Come inside of me, please,’’ You whimpered into his ear, causing a groan to leave his lips.

Your words were all he needed to reach his high. Your words tipped him over the edge, his cum coating your insides; his vision almost going black as he felt his abdomen twitch; curses spilling past his lips as he filled you up. ‘’Fuck,’’ He exclaimed, burying his head in between your neck and the couch as he thrusted into you one last time.

He kept his cock inside of you as he collapsed on top of you, retracting his hand from your neck; letting you breathe properly once again. A silence fell over the two of you, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence; the heavy breathing was the only thing being heard, your desperate pants filling the room.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, catching your breath; until a sigh was heard coming from you, causing Sunghoon to look up at you.

You took a deep breath before looking over at him, your eyes meeting. ‘’I want you to tell me everything.’’ You let out, maintaining eye contact. This time, it was Sunghoons turn to break the eye contact. He let out a sigh as he flipped over to his side, laying beside you. ‘’What do you mean by everything?’’ He mumbled, his eyes still focusing on you as he pulled the blanket you had laying on the couch over his lower body. ‘’The bet, why it happened, why you decided to do it, why me out of all people?’’

The last words of your sentence made Sunghoons heart drop. 

Why you? To Sunghoon it was obvious. To Sunghoon a month ago, it wasn’t obvious at all; you were just some random girl after all. You had just been some random girl who had the misfortune of walking into the school cafeteria at the wrong time, just some girl that had one purpose and one purpose only. To fall in love with Park Sunghoon.

But one month later, you were so much more than that. You were so much more than just some girl, and Sunghoon couldn’t be happier that it was you who had walked into the cafeteria at that moment. You were the first girl who had ever made Sugnhoons heart flutter, you were the first girl to ever even intrigue Sunghoon, and you were the first girl to make Sunghoon fall in love. 

Sunghoon inhaled through his nose before parting his lips to speak. ‘’It was stupid,’’ He chuckled. ‘’Jay and I made a bet, saying that I could make any girl fall in love with me within thirty days.’’ He continued, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. ‘’But why me? You had never even looked my way before all of this happened.’’ Your question made Sunghoon frown, his eyes darting toward the ceiling in an attempt to avoid your eye contact. 

‘’I had to make the next girl that walked into the room fall in love with me.’’

Sunghoon could hear you inhaling through your nose as he finished his sentence, your gaze meeting the ceiling above you as well. You stayed quiet, only nodding in response. Now that Sunghoon had said it out loud, it sounded way more childish than he had originally thought. ‘’It wasn’t supposed to go this far, you know.’’ Sunghoon muttered, causing a chuckle to leave your lips. ‘’Thank you for giving me some clarity at least.’’

Sunghoon looked over at you once again, slightly furrowing his eyebrows. ‘’I mean, at least I know what our whole relationship meant to you now.’’

At that moment, Sunghoon felt like someone had just ripped his heart out of his chest. As he watched you lie beside him, your eyes glued to the ceiling; a small smile on your lips as you tried covering up the fact that he had hurt you. Badly. He had hurt you badly. Sunghoon shook his head, immediately grabbing one of your hands and placing them in his. ‘’No,’’ He let out, causing you to look up at him as he sat up straight.

‘’That’s the thing Y/N,’’ He mumbled, placing your intertwined hands on his lap; his fingers playing with yours. ‘’I fell in love with you.’’

Another silence crept upon the room. You stared at him in disbelief as he kept his gaze glued on your intertwined hand, propping yourself up using your other hand so you could sit up properly. ‘’Sunghoon,’’ You began talking, but he quickly cut you off. ‘’I know, I know,’’ He let out, looking over at you. ‘’I know you can’t trust me. But please, I’m begging you,’’ he continued, grabbing onto your hand even harder. ‘’I’ll do anything to show you how sincere I am, no matter how long it takes. Anything.’’ 

Without you even noticing it, a tear drop hit your cheek. You weren’t sure if you were crying because you were happy or frustrated, frustrated because he might be playing you. Again. 

You knew Park Sunghoon by now. You knew how he was. You knew how he liked to spend his weekends, you knew how cruel he could be - God, you out of all people knew just how cruel he could actually be. Yet you couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit of hope as the words left his lips, no matter how much you tried to tell yourself he wasn’t being sincere. You were only a bet, nothing more and nothing less. So why did his words make you feel so relieved?

‘’Okay.’’

‘’Okay?’’

You slowly nodded in response, Sunghoon looked over at you; his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. He had no idea what to make out of your response, trying to read your facial expression. ‘’I don’t know how long it will take for me to ever trust you again Sunghoon, if I even can trust you again,’’ Your words made his heart drop, but what did he expect?

He already knew that there was a possibility that you’d never trust him again. Or even worse, that you want him out of your life forever. The thought of it made Sunghoon feel sick, the heavy feeling he was getting used to at this point spreading across his chest the more he thought about it.

‘’But I’m willing to give it a try.’’

It was almost like the world stopped spinning, Sunghoon felt his heart stop beating for a second as the words left your lips. He stared at you, his lips parting like he was about to say something. But nothing came out, no matter how badly he wanted to tell you how happy he was; he simply couldn’t. A sigh escaped your lips, your gaze landing on your intertwined hand. ‘’No matter how much I hate you and how much you hurt me,’’

‘’I still fell in love with you at the end of the day.’’

That was all Sunghoon needed to hear. Just like that, the heavy feeling that had spread across his chest slowly vanished; replaced by a feeling he was getting somewhat familiar with by now, thanks to you. He quickly smashed his lips against yours, cupping your cheek using one of his hands. He felt like he could cry as he felt you smile into the kiss, placing your hand on top of his. ‘’I swear to you,’’ He let out as he placed his forehead against your own, looking into your eyes. ‘’I’ll make it up to you, one way or another, I promise I’ll make it up to you,’’ He whispered, gently stroking your cheek using his thumb. A small smile spread across your lips, the smile Sunghoon had missed so much; a genuine smile. The smile that made him fall in love with you.

If you could go back in time and change anything you’d like, it would probably be crossing paths with Park Sunghoon. But at the end of the day you can’t go back in time, and with his fingers laced together with yours; you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, crossing paths with Park Sunghoon wasn’t so bad after all.

[jrwi-transgender-swag]

PART 1 OF THE SEMIFINALS EVERYONE !!!!!

RIPTIDE SIBLING SHOWDOWN !!!!!!!!!!!

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Chip

"gestures at him wildly look at him man " - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "Well he's a pirate and that's already very trans coded. He bases his personality and general vibe off people he looks up to which is giving gender envy. The only way Chip could ever be cis to me is if he was the token cishet but he's neither so like… Trans boyy (my words are failing me but you get it)" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "literally the transest guy of all time (loser edition). tits out tuesday. man with tits monday. like. transgender moment real " - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "He was picked up by pirates at a young age pre-pueberty. He then spent most of his childhood in a gang. This kid was so malnourished everyone just assumed he was a guy and he went with it since his puberty was so fucked. My transmasc agender king" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "fucking look at him. most transgender motherfucker to ever exist. we'll never know what his actual name was because he was named based on his first home, the black rose pirates ship. his tattoos go over his top surgery scars" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "he’s just . he just kinda is yknow" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag

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Jay Ferin

"I mean.. just look at her" - Submitted For Transfem Swag "she has a lot of transgirl swag and i love her. jay ferin forever" - Submitted For Transfem Swag "the transest ever. i swear" - Submitted For Transfem Swag "she is a TRANS ALLEGORY YOUR HONOUR. LOOK AT HER. TRANSGENDER SWAG." - Submitted For Secret Fourth Swag "She's so trans coded. I mean, she runs away from her family who expect her to be one thing (navy) and she joins a group where she tests what it's like to be something else (a pirate) but then reverts when her dad shows up. She pretends it meant nothing but then Chip shows her that it's okay to change and to act against her family. So she's living her best trans girl life. Also she has bird imagery which is very trans coded of her. And she was named after her dad so like… Just saying" - Submitted For Transfem Swag "jay jay okg jay. her entire story is so fucking trans coded. i literally can’t oo her wholeee story is so trans coded. like??? she runs away from home and doesn’t tell her family shes joining pirates bc it’s the exact thing they would disapprove of. she first joins them to scope them out and learn their secrets but as time goes longer she realizes these people love her and she loves them and she is a pirate LIKE THEM. and her father appears and literally disowns her for being a pirates like holy shit. and she tries to spare her friends by going back to life where she would be in misery. and and she finds drey, a pirate like her and someone close to her who was also kicked to the curb and she finds comfort in someone like her. and she has to deal with the idea that her dead sister might hate her if Ayva knew jay was a pirate like???? but she’s so dress and happy now and she wouldn’t trade it for the world DO YOU HEAR ME???? becoming a pirate is how jay discovers HERSELF and who she WANTS TO BE!!!! i can’t she is so trans coded i literally can’t. she was so alone but notre she had ppl who UNDERSTAND HER!!!!! also tgirl failgirl swag." - Submitted For Transfem Swag "HER WHOLE STORY COULD BE A ALLEGORY FOR BEING TRANS FR. her father hates pirates, pirating for her has been freedom and helped her seen a new perspective, she gets wings, her journey is og just being a "spy" and then becoming a pirate and sensing the "freedom" in it !! and loving it and being accepeted just as she is her dad even makes a comment abt her being a pirate in 53. shes sooo transcoded ^_^^^^^^^^ to me i love her jay ferin sweep - Submitted For Transfem + Secret Fourth Swag

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[atranswomansdiary]

Day 1

It happened in the worst possible moment...

Today's June 5th, 2020. It’s a Friday and I once again had trouble getting out to bed to go to work.

I’ve suspected for a while that I’m very depressed, for the umpteenth time. I had a painful breakup almost a year ago and, after that, I rebounced rather quickly because of many reasons, one of the most important being that I started a new job, perhaps for the first time in my life, under my conditions. In short: (sort of) a full salary plus benefits in exchange for working only 4 hours a day, from Monday to Friday. 20 hours a week. 80 hours a month.

In spite of this great situation (unique, in many senses) I've been having issues waking up and getting to work on time. Although I had the opportunity to take a company transfer and avoid any commute hassles (fee included), I almost never got there in time. And even though the company offices were only half an hour or so away, even on public transportation, I was still getting there late almost everyday—sometimes by a lot. I was also failing to show up to work a couple of days a month.

I was deadly afraid of losing this incredibly comfortable job in the first few months. If I did, I probably wouldn’t have enough money to make rent with my freelance stuff, so I’d have to return to live with my parents, in a house that literally has no space for me anymore.

I asked A.P. (he/him) to help me. After some back and forth, he prescibed me an “introductory” antidepressant and some mild sleeping pills, but it has been 9 months or so since then and my mood has improved a little (it’s true), but I’m still struggling with going to the office five days a week, let alone getting there on time.

Even more so once the pandemic broke out.

It’s been a couple of months now since the world basically went to shit and, although I’ve pushed and struggled and pleaded to be allowed to work from home—doing the same job I do at the office, but without having to struggle to get out of my apartment every single fucking day—my boss has been adamant that I still need to go at least some days to the office every week. According to him, it’s for my own good, to “protect my reputation in the eyes of my coworkers”. Picture my eyes rolling so hard that I can actually see my brain.

So: today’s Friday. As everybody else in the world, I didn’t feel any desire to go to the office, even less so given the current situation. I once again cursed my boss and took enough time to finally get up from bed that I left the small apartment I rent already late.

As with any time I go to the office (the company transfer is no longer an option, so I have to commute), Cheap Trick’s hit Ghost Town sounds in my head; the city looks deserted and abandoned. The few who are forced to leave their homes, as I am, move and act like specters, shadows of once-people—as do I, to be honest. We move slowly and fearfully through the streets, unwillingly risking our lives because, well, that’s the fucked up world we live in.

Or at least that’s how I feel.

I’d love to think that I’m just like everybody. Or, in reality, that everybody else feels just like I do.

I went out, almost running, and I already had a major decision to make: subway or bus. The bus is slow and unreliable, but there’s definitely less people in it and, what’s best, I get to sit down and read or just listen to music through the whole commute, mostly undisturbed. The subway, on the other hand, is fast and runs on a tight schedule but is a) filled with people and b) it gets me close to the office, but not exactly there. I have to walk around 15 minutes from the subway station to the office proper, through alleways and streets that are mostly deserted at this early hour and, what’s worse, have a reputation of being dangerous at any time of day.

Taking everything into consideration—and more on a whim than anything else, really—I chose the subway.

The journey was short and uneventful. I got out of the train station and I don’t remember what music was playing on my ears, but I do remember being tired and bored. Then, a remnant image of last night’s dream hit me, the one that I privately blame for being late this morning.

I don’t usually remember my dreams. When they’re emotionally charged I sometimes wake up with what I call “emotional waste”, the afterimage of the intense feelings that I experienced onirically but, apart from that, I just don’t remember many concrete details about them. Mostly sensations and blurry images, that’s all.

Last night I once again dreamed that I was a woman.

It was a throwback to the time when I was still in a relationship with perhaps the greatest partner I’ve ever had: L.M. (she/her). In the dream we were living together in the tiny apartment that was our love nest, laughing and talking about something I can’t recall. We were just standing there, having a nice conversation and loving each other deeply, as we did. But, in this dream, I was a woman.

As far as I’m aware, L.M. never had any experience with or interest in any women in their life. That’s kind of a new thing for me, since most of my previous (or posterior) partners had an “attraction for women’s phase” in their lives (their words, not mine) or were decidedly bisexual. So this dream is all kinds of impossible and, still, the joy of being a woman comes back with such strength—even just being the recollection of a half-forgotten oniric experience—that I openly smile for the first time in the day.

I change the music to an energetic track and start walking with something resembling the happiness or joy of doing so with a purpose. My heart aches a little bit: if only! I have this weird feeling—I’ve been conscious of it for a while now—that I would’ve been much happier if I had been born a woman. That maybe I wouldn’t be such a failure at 34 if, when my parents made me, my dad’s contribution to the whole affair had been an “X” instead of a “Y”. But, alas! It didn’t.

It’s too late for me.

Plus, I’ve never had any homosexual experiences or even any hint of erotic attraction towards men. Men are controversial figures in my life; I have few male friends and most of them are cis heterosexuals. I consider myself one as well. Cis and heterosexual.

I follow a number of trans women YouTubers, it’s true, and I consider myself an ally of the feminist cause (4th wave and intersectional, thank you very much!). I’ve read Beauvoir, Cisneros, and Butler. Woolf, Plath, Pizarnik, and Storni are among my favorite writers. Le Guin and Rice are my (seelie and unseelie) queens.

I’ve never felt as much of a “man”, except during that weird period in my life a couple of years ago when I tried to become a “manly man” after reading too many of Howard’s Conan stories one after the other while being extremely lonely and suicidal (as one does, of course). I’ve actually thought about tattooing a quote from those stories in my body. The quote reads,

"I know this: if life is illusion, then I am no less an illusion, and being thus, the illusion is real to me. I live, I burn with life, I love, I slay, and am content."

My only problem is with the “slay” part. I don’t think I could ever kill any human being. I have a hard time eating meat and I try to save spiders and other abhorred creatures whenever I can. I love Death—especially Sandman's version of her—but I don’t think I could deal in such violence.

It doesn’t really matter. It’s already too late.

I was crossing one of the streets and then an idea flashed through my mind. It’s OK: it is late. No one’s arguing that. I’ll never do anything about it. But, but… Is there any problem if I imagined a different reality? If I, excuse the mundane use of the word, fantasized with a world in which I was born a woman? No one would ever know about it. It’d be my little secret.

And then, it happened.

I was walking down these dangerous and deserted streets, the same I’ve traveled many times during the past year, but this time, it was different. I was immensely, indescribably, ridiculously happy. I couldn't stop smiling. I felt each step, I breathed in the chill morning air, and I was content. Yes, like the Conan quote above. I felt like myself, if only for those infinitely long in the memory—but painfully brief in reality—ten to fifteen minutes. During that time, I was me. I was a woman.

I was complete.

I got to work and reality crushed me. My name—the one I was given at birth—slapped me in the face as a friendly guard at the company’s door gave me a warm welcome.

The sensation faded away during the morning. Little by little, it disappeared completely… Or so I thought. It was fantasy and imagination, that’s all. I consider myself to be pretty good at those. But it was just that: a fancy, a whim, as concrete and real and solid as a fragment of a dream can be. Maybe one day I’ll remember what it was to be truly happy, thanks to no reason or excuse greater than just imagining what it would be like to be born in a body with a different sex and a whole lot of different expectations and experiences than my own.

But that is in a future I can’t even imagine and this was today.

Until then, with love,

ZZ

[freeuselandonorris]

how do you deal with overwhelm while writing?? i think i’ve bitten off more than i can chew in regards to how long my current wip is going to have to be to actually play out the way i want it to (depth, character development, build up etc). i can’t even come up with scenes anymore, because the scope of the whole story just paralyses me - especially now, given all the things that have been happening irl (landoscar insanity fuel/lando’s win/hug etc) that i want/feel make sense to include, my brain is scrambling to figure out how to make it all fit.

i really enjoy writing when i can get into the kinda flow state but i haven’t been able to do that. have you ever had this happen and what did you do??

xoxox an adoring fan

heyyyy sweet anon thank you so much for messaging and i'm sorry you're having a frustrating time with your piece!

i have absolutely experienced this many many times before (especially with longer pieces) and so i can tell you with some confidence that the reason you can't get into your usual flow state is because you're freaking yourself out by trying to look at the entire piece rather than what you need to write next.

under the cut because i ramble like fuck when i'm talking about writing~

the writer anne lamott has this great technique she calls the 'one inch picture frame' which i find invaluable. basically, when you are sitting there spiralling like, oh god i have so much to write and i need to make sure the middle is snappy and the ending builds appropriately and i get all the characterisation in and oh god what about the world-building... you just tell your brain to shut up, and then you pretend that your story is a huge elaborately painted canvas or a view from a window or whatever, and you think about what you could see of that painting/view through a one-inch picture frame. then you describe that.

in practical terms, here's what that looks like for me. i'll use monday as an example. around the beginning, i wrote myself a vague season outline up to that point - key races, key moments i knew i wanted to include, etc. i added dates, locations and so on in brackets. i put this in a section at the top of my gdoc and then started a new section (i recommend using the title formatting on gdocs so it gives you a clickable link in the outline area) so it was there for easy reference but wasn't like, staring me in the face the whole time. if you're really freaked out though, you might want to put it in an entirely different document. then, as i wrote those bits, i would cross them out using strikethrough so i had a vague idea of where i was at. otherwise, i would IGNORE THAT OUTLINE.

(side note in reference to the overwhelm you feel just coming up with an outline: this thing can be basic as fuck. the good thing about writing motorsport RPF is that we already essentially have a structure in place, i.e. that of the season. that's what i used for monday: i listed all the races, then removed the ones where nothing interesting happened landoscar-wise (the race reports on the mclaren site are invaluable for this!). then i went through the mclaren socials/youtube and slotted in all the insane moments i wanted to capture in roughly the right place in the timeline. and honestly, there were loads of bits i'd put in the outline that i didn't end up using and vice versa. don't worry about being too beholden to the overall shape of the narrative just yet.)

every morning (i write in the morning) i would open the document to my last bit of writing and reread the last paragraph or so to remind myself where i was up to, and i would think about what i could see through the one-inch frame. so for instance, in the chapter where they have the argument in the hotel room after monza, i knew i wanted that argument to happen but where/how/when? i'd written them in the debrief, but i didn't want the argument to happen at the track. so, okay, they're in the corridor of the hotel. they're tentatively speaking to each other. write that. now what? move the frame over a little. now they're in the room, but they're still pissed. write that. now oscar's realising he doesn't want to argue, but he doesn't know how to say what he does want. write that. etc.

this is all a mental game you play with yourself. you go and look at your outline and you look at what scene or plot beat comes next, and then you put on your blinkers and ignore the fact that you're trying to write a long piece. it's not happening, la la la. you're writing one scene. you're writing the next sentence. you're not thinking about what comes after that. i mean, obviously if you know you want to reference x thing in chapter 2 so it can play a bigger part in chapter 3, you can think about that! but you're not thinking about it in the sense of OH GOD THERE IS STILL SO MUCH TO WRITE AND I AM JUST ONE PERSON.

a final tip i find useful to force myself not to overthink and get back into that flow state is timed writing sessions. set a timer for 25 minutes and put your phone on silent, and write as much as you can without stopping to edit. (if you want to carry on after that, knock yourself out. but don't stop to fiddle about with it.)

good luck anon! you haven't bitten off more than you can chew, you just need to take smaller bites 😘

[beeeinyourbonnet]

Covetous | Chapter 5

Rating: E

Pairing: Macelle (Father MacAvoy x Belle) or Nostelle (Nosty x Belle), who is to say which

Summary: Father Joseph MacAvoy wakes up in a library across town with no idea of how he got there. When the kind librarian doesn’t kick him out immediately, he considers that maybe there’s more to life than alcohol.

[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4]

tws: alcoholism, homelessness. If I missed a warning, I’m so sorry–please let me know and I will add it ASAP!

P.S. I don't know how to tag this but there is some what might be considered references to dubcon in this chapter. It's not actually dubcon, but I wanted to give at least a tiny warning in case anyone needs more info on that!

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MacAvoy’s ideal weekend would have involved being so untethered from reality that he couldn’t think of Belle, but instead he woke up Saturday morning tethered by a very real hangover. Without the library to go to, though, he was free to treat it as he saw fit, so he took a swig of his cheap gin before crawling out of bed.

Since he’d been kicked out of all the local bars, he had nothing to do. How did one fill a day? In another lifetime, he’d have heard confessions, fussed around the church, written sermons. Now, time stretched before him like a black hole. 

He made toast and one fried egg, choking it down with some weak tea and a half shot of vodka. How was Belle filling her weekend? The visions of her and Nosty hadn’t persisted into the morning, which only served to support his idea that they were visions, not imaginings. If his own brain was creating them, why would it stop just because he fell asleep? No, it was more likely that he’d just been unable to stop whatever had taken place because he was a useless piece of shit. He would have to do the priest’s job for Belle on Monday, picking up the shards of what was once her innocence instead of keeping it whole and intact in the first place.

Maybe he should call her. She’d told him to use her number, and even if he’d had something to do, it wouldn’t have been better than time spent with Belle, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t face her after what he knew.

Washing his breakfast dishes filled so little time, he almost regretted doing it. Since he’d let everything go, there was no cable in the church, no internet. He had nothing to occupy him but drink.

What would he be doing if the library was an option? All he did on Friday was sit behind Belle’s desk and chat every once in awhile. Maybe he should try opening the church doors and sitting in the confessional. Maybe he’d get lucky and someone would come by.

No one came by. Why would they? The church was all but defunct; no one with any sense was trying to get in. 

He clasped his hands in prayer, resting his forehead on the tips of his fingers. “Forgive me, Father,” he intoned. “I have sinned by allowing sin to happen.”

That didn’t feel right. It felt too much like it absolved him of guilt just by virtue of acknowledging it. He did not deserve to be absolved of the guilt of failing Belle. He cleared his throat to try again.

“Forgive me, Father.” He peeked one eye open, taking in the way the sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows and made the clouds of dust sparkle, but there was still no one else to hear his confession except the Lord himself. Better make this formal. “It’s been only you know how many fucking days since my last confession.” 

Of course he would start confession by being rude to God. 

“Forgive me, Father, for I have just sinned against you, and I’m fucking sorry.”

Surely, the Lord couldn’t begrudge him his profanity. Was he just supposed to not curse when he was flustered?

“As a man devoted to you, it was my job to protect Belle’s integrity when I could, and I’ve let her fall to ruin.” 

There—that was a good start. “She was once beautiful and pristine, and now she’s covered in dust. She has fallen from grace, but it wasn’t her fault. Don’t judge her, Father, please. All of the blame lies with me.”

He opened his eyes, satisfied with his confession, and tried to discern what his penance and absolution would be. He didn’t think it was okay to absolve himself.

When the voice of God didn’t come to him, he allowed himself a quick nip from the bottle in his pocket, then clasped his hands back together.

“Hail Mary, full of grace…”

****

Belle woke alone in bed, hair still damp in its braid, and stretched. Nosty had been there all night, and she hoped he was somewhere in the apartment, but she almost didn’t begrudge him if he wasn’t. They’d ended up watching two more movies before tumbling into bed, exhausted, and he’d only let go of her for as long as it took them each to shower.

The clock said it was nine, so she climbed out of bed, reminding herself that even if Nosty was gone, he would come back. She was sure of it.

She pulled a robe on over her nightgown and padded out to the hallway. Nosty was curled into the side of the couch, wearing one of her old uni sweatshirts with a bird-patterned throw blanket pulled over his knees. He looked up from his book, and she smiled at him.

“Morning,” she said. 

“Morning.” 

She couldn’t resist stopping by the couch to kiss him before making coffee. He held her there for longer than she intended but less time than she’d really have liked, and then she was all but skipping into the kitchen. 

The pot was already half full, and a peek back into the living room showed her that Nosty had a mug on the end table. She filled another, adding cream and sugar, and then tucked herself onto the couch next to him. 

He marked his place with a finger and for one horrible second, she feared he might dogear her book, but then he reached across the table for a bookmark and stuck it in. 

“Thanks for the—” She paused when he plucked the mug out of her hands. “—coffee.”

“It’s your coffee.” He threw his blanket across her lap, then guided her to lean against his chest, between his legs. Once she was settled, he returned the mug. She could get used to this.

“What are you reading?”

He held a thriller novel up for her, and she wrinkled her nose. A book that she’d read and immediately relegated to a pile where she might pretend that she was going to donate it instead of hoarding it.

“What do you think so far?”

He wrapped his arms around her, leaving her free to drink, and this was the first time Nosty had ever really been quiet. Sure, he didn’t talk during movies, but any other silence, she could tell he was alert. Now, he felt soft, content. He wanted to hold her, and he’d left himself no options for escape.

“I want to know what happens and I’m fucking pissed about it,” he said, and she almost spilled her coffee when she laughed.

“That’s how I felt. Nothing makes sense.”

He shook his head. “Bunch of fucking tools doing stupid shite with no consequences.”

“I can spoil it if you want.”

“Och, no.” He lifted her mug and took a sip, either because he couldn’t reach his anymore or it was cold, and this made Belle feel strangely warm. “Gives me something to do if I can’t sleep.”

Now there was no hiding how warm she felt. Leaving an unfinished book in her flat? That was the most fucking romantic thing she could imagine.

“What do you want to do today?” she asked, sure he could see her cheeks and neck burning.

“What would you be doing if I wasn’t here?” 

She opened her mouth to answer honestly—that she’d been working on a novel on the weekends for lack of anything better to do—then flushed down to her toes. She had no reason to be embarrassed, but then, she’d never told anyone before.

“Probably reading,” she said, but her voice was high-pitched and she could almost feel Nosty’s feral grin behind her.

“Reading, eh?” 

“Probably.”

“Oi, Belle, I thought you knew me better than that.” 

She squeezed her eyes shut because she knew he was gearing up to be his most dramatic, and she was already embarrassed and she hadn’t even told him. “What do you mean?”

“I thought you knew that one of my particular talents, as a poor fuck surviving on the streets, was spotting a liar?” 

So he was going to try to guilt it out of her then. She took a big gulp of her coffee so it wouldn’t be a slosh hazard and reached around him to set it on the table, but then, before she could roll so they’d be face to face, he grabbed her hips.

“I’m offended, sweetheart,” he said, and that was all the warning she got before he pinched her sides. 

If someone had told her even yesterday morning that Nosty might have trapped her on the couch where he could tickle her until she gasped for mercy, she’d have laughed in their face.

“Stop, stop!” 

“Apologize to me.”

She tried to pull his hands off of her, but it was like he suddenly had six of them, and it turned out that she was more ticklish than she realized. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have lied. But it wasn’t a complete lie!”

His hands stilled but he didn’t move them. “So you might read. What else?”

By the way she felt him stir beneath her, she had the feeling she knew what he wanted her to say. She could just say that and be done with it, but in the end, she decided that honesty was better. If she wanted Nosty in her life, he was going to find out anyway.

“I’m writing a book,” she mumbled.

His hands dropped to her lap. “Aye? A book?”

“Aye,” she said. “A book. It’s not very good.”

“What’s it about?” He picked her coffee up, took a sip, and handed it back to her. 

She shook her head. “It’s silly.”

“So what?” 

“I’ll tell you when I finish it.” 

He scoffed. “Well that’s an empty promise, ennit? How many fuckin’ unfinished drafts you got stored up? Everyone and their mum’s ‘writing a book.’”

“No other drafts! Well.”

“Lying again? Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

She gripped one of his hands to protect herself and he bit the top of her ear instead. “I mean, there are a few drafts of this novel.”

“Sure, sure.” He splayed his hand across her hip. “I’ll let you off the hook for now, love.”

“Very generous of you.” She laced her fingers through his, pleased when he squeezed her hand in response. “What do you usually do on the weekends?”

“Doesn’t fucking matter what day it is to me,” he said. “I always do the same shite.” 

Nosty never let her see more than a glimpse of his world—he was always hungry, he carried a blade that he used often, he knew some rowdy blokes—but she wanted more, to see all of it, to see all of him.

And yet, there was a tiny piece of her that was grateful for the shield, grateful that he allowed her to believe that, when he left her, he was all right. 

They sat quietly, taking turns drinking her coffee until the mug was empty. When Belle stuck her foot out of the blanket to stand up, Nosty tightened his arms around her. 

“Don’t you want more?” she asked. 

He pressed his stubbly cheek to her temple. “Later.”

With no more coffee, they both drifted off, and Belle woke sometime later to Nosty undoing her braid and combing out her hair. 

“That feels nice,” she mumbled, eyes still closed.

“Can’t do this with me own hair,” he said. “Too stiff.”

“My hair is your hair.”

He snorted, clenching a handful in his fist and using it to tilt her head before kissing her exposed throat.

“Do you want to go shopping today?” Belle asked.

“Shopping?” He bit her and she hated the way it warmed her more than the blanket. “Just because I’m still here, doesn’t make me a different bloke, hey? I’m still a fucking street rat.”

“I don’t have enough clothes that fit you if you’re going to be here,” she said. “Besides, I’ve never had a boy to dress up.”

She twisted to grin up at him and he was watching her with his most affectionate mean sneer. She couldn’t remember when she learned to translate the small nuances of Nosty’s rude expressions, but he’d only ever frightened her the first time he came into the library, drunk and cursing. After that, she saw flashes of that Nosty, but either he kept that one hidden or this was the hidden one, and it was all for her.

“Fine,” he said. “But I’m dressing you first.”

****

Nosty made good on his threat by choosing the most mismatched clothes he could pluck out of her closet, but Belle was of the mind that fashion was just confidence, so she dressed in the paisley skirt and floral blouse he chose and added a pair of ankle boots to tie it all together. 

She wanted to get him as much as she could, which meant she had to prioritize. If she got him a new leather jacket, kilt, and quality boots, she wouldn’t be able to buy anything else, so she hunted through the department stores for deals on t-shirts, socks, pants for winter, and underwear. 

When she found a pack, he grabbed her hand. “Not necessary.”

She pursed her lips. “Surely you don’t go commando in the winter?”

He wiggled his eyebrows, but she grabbed them anyway. Better to have and not need than vice versa. 

She tried to be quick in the department stores because, even though Nosty seemed less stressed than he had outside the cinema last night, he still scanned the room like he expected a bomb at any moment. When they made it to the thrift store, his shoulders relaxed a fraction.

Though she had no intention of shopping for herself, somehow she slipped up and found herself digging through her usual dress racks, looking for gems. It was Nosty who found a floral-print Chanel a-line that she had to have, especially when he wolf-whistled at her when she emerged from the fitting room and twirled around.

She returned the favor after she found a cropped jacket to go with his kilt, though her whistle as he turned was much quieter. By the time they left, Nosty carried too many shopping bags for them to comfortably go out to lunch, so they picked up sandwiches at a place around the corner from Belle.

The only things of Nosty’s that could go in a washing machine were his shirts and socks, and after she added those to a small load of clothes, they sat at her kitchen table to eat. 

“I’m having a really good time,” she said, watching her sandwich.

Nosty said nothing, so she peeked at him. His sandwich was almost gone, and he was looking off to the left.

“Nosty?”

“What kind of art?” He gestured toward the blank spaces on the living room wall visible through the kitchen doorway. 

She swallowed her nerves at this non-response. Nosty didn’t do anything he didn’t want to do, so he probably just hadn’t heard her.

“I figured I’d know when I saw it.”

“What if that spot’s empty forever?” 

She shrugged, the sudden tightness in her chest making it harder to take a bite. 

“I can always get a placeholder. Or put up a Spice Girls poster.”

He snorted, shoving the last of his sandwich in his mouth and then staring at her. Nosty always ate quickly, and Belle wondered if that was something he’d do forever, or if he’d be able to slow done once he’d been safe and sated for long enough.

“Come on, hurry up.” He rapped his fingers on the table. “Don’t you need to work on your book?”

“You want me to write while you’re here?”

He shrugged. “I like to watch you work.” 

At the library, he did often sit at a table while she sat at the circulation desk. Sometimes she could see him, sometimes she couldn’t, and though she knew he read sometimes, she also knew he liked to sit and observe. If he wanted to watch her write, she’d write. Whatever kept him with her all weekend. 

Now that she’d tasted what it was like to have Nosty instead of loneliness, she ached at the thought of going back.

She finished her sandwich quickly, and while she retrieved her laptop and made two cups of tea, Nosty set himself up on the couch with the bad thriller book and the bird blanket. 

Tea brewed, she added one sugarcube and a glug of cream to Nosty’s and a squeeze of lemon to hers. After taking his mug, Nosty gestured to the obvious spot he’d left her on the edge of the couch, half the blanket strewn over it for her.

She settled under the blanket, legs tangled up in his, and even though it had been lovely to sit against him that morning, this was lovely in its own way. Having a person to sit next to and just be near with no other expectations—Belle hadn’t had anyone like that, not really.

It was hard to get into writing, especially since she was as embarrassed as if her mediocre worldbuilding was flashing neon on the opposite side of her laptop, but Nosty didn’t try to spy on or fluster her. He just turned the pages, sipping his tea until he set the empty mug on the end table. Meanwhile, Belle chewed her lip, let her tea go cold, peeked over her computer at him, and worried the edge of the blanket.

Eventually, after what must have been half an hour of this madness, Nosty closed his book.

“Belle?”

Grateful for the excuse, she shut her laptop. “Yes?”

Nosty ran his finger along the edge of the book, watching it move. “I’m happy I’m here.”

Belle warmed from her scalp to the soles of her feet. “Me too, Nosty.”

Still watching the book, he reached his hand across the back of the couch, so she did the same and his fingers closed around hers. Maybe she’d write a bit later, but now, the only thing to do was set her laptop down, crawl into his waiting arms, and read his terrible book with him.

****

MacAvoy no longer knew the feel of a pleasant buzz. He’d passed the ability to be nicely tipsy years ago, and now, he drank until the booze slammed into him like a freight train. 

He was nowhere near freight train levels when the visions resumed around dinner time. All day, he’d fended them off with his new patented trio of confession, drink, and Hail Mary, but now, with night falling on his lightbulb-less church, it was too dark, too hollow for him to sit in the confessional. 

All he could see was Belle—Belle crying, Belle hurt, Belle heartbroken, Belle broken. He groaned, having to pause every few steps on his climb to the rectory to clutch his heart. How could she have fallen for a man like Nosty, a man who bit and clawed and stole? MacAvoy had all day to save her from him and he’d failed, all day to tell her she was beautiful inside and out, that she could have any man she wanted—in an appropriate way for a priest to say, of course. He was nothing if not appropriate.

“Forgive me, Father,” he mumbled again, taking another swig at the top of the stairs. He wanted to stumble into bed, but he forced himself to the kitchen. If Belle was being ripped apart inside and out by a monster, he should at least eat. She wanted him to eat.

He made toast and another fried egg, but this time he was drunk, and it somehow came out both browned and raw. Still, he forced it down, remembering how Belle had stuffed his pockets full of granola bars. 

Soon, blessedly, his plate was clean and he dumped it in the sink to deal with in the morning. Belle didn’t know about the dirty dishes, so he didn’t feel guilty about them. 

What if he called her again? Was it a bad idea, knowing that, even if he didn’t feel the blackout coming on, he was still more drunk than she’d ever seen him? He threw himself into bed, snatching her phone number off his table so he could clutch it like it was her hand.

Pathetic, the mean little voice in his head said. Pathetic that you cling to your paper, pretend you’re innocent.

“Piss off,” he said. 

Disgusting, it continued. How can you think your thoughts are pure when you imagine—

“No!” He gulped down vodka. Maybe if he sped up the freight train, he’d pass out sooner. 

You’re not protecting her, you’re jealous.

He threw himself out of bed. A shower was what he needed to clear his head—he was clammy, sweaty, and there was probably some egg on his chin. 

Standing under the spray, the mean voice couldn’t get him. Satan’s vicious imagery couldn’t touch him while he washed away all the sins of the day.

His mind supplied an image of Belle in the shower, and he braced himself on the slick wall with a groan. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—imagine Belle naked, especially not while he was naked.

Then Nosty entered his vision, and he knew the devil had found him, reminding him of his failure as Nosty crushed Belle to the wall, her breasts against the tile. MacAvoy could almost hear her scream—was it pleasure?—as Nosty filled her with his Goliath cock, and without his permission, MacAvoy’s hand went to his own cock, half-flaccid from drink but imbued by the devil with sick life as he forced MacAvoy to imagine the pounding, the screaming, the way Nosty sank his teeth into Belle’s neck, taking what he wanted. 

MacAvoy had been too cowardly to stop this, and now here he was, thrusting into his own hand at the devil’s beckoning while Nosty stole his pleasure in the curve of Belle’s legs, hands on her breasts and mouth on her throat. 

His climax surprised him—he was so drunk and so out of practice, there should have been no way to come. Another satanic trick, and he cried out as he convulsed into his hand. The only blessing here was that he was in the shower and could wash away the shame, the knowledge. It couldn’t crust on him like the rest of the grime in the church; he was safe here.

Belle’s ecstasy echoed in his head as he turned the shower off and dried himself, and he didn’t bother dressing before flopping face down on the bed. If he couldn’t reach his cock, the devil couldn’t tempt him again, no matter that he could see Belle on her knees now, the view of her perfect breasts unhindered from this angle. 

Groping around the bed, he thanked Jesus when his hand closed around the vodka bottle, and then he was bringing it to his lips for some well-deserved relief.

****

Belle couldn’t remember a time she’d felt so content—maybe there’d never been such a time. She’d always tried to fit in at school, tried to find any common ground with people, but the truth had always been that she was the weird girl who read all the time. Every report card, her teachers would write Belle is such a bright girl, but she doesn’t play well with others or Belle is a brilliant student, but she’s too shy to socialize.

She wasn’t too shy to socialize, she’d just been burnt too many times. 

It was easier at uni because everyone had being on their own for the first time in common, but that was fleeting. She’d been friendly enough with her roommates to hang their picture on her wall, but even they had only liked the palatable parts of her, the parts that didn’t get lost in a book or recite literary theory ad nauseam. Even her dad told her how odd she was.

But Nosty was odd too. She’d drifted off on his chest again and he’d finished the book, waking her up with his groan of frustration at the climax—relatable—and then they’d both gotten up, picked out new books from the shelf, and sat back down to read until it was dark.

“You never read this much at the library anymore,” Belle said when she had to put her book down because both their stomachs growled. 

“Sure I do,” he said. “You just don’t see me.”

“Why not?”

He set the book down—this time, a fantasy novel that had been a favorite of hers as a child. “Because if you’re not busy, I want to spend time with you, yeah?”

She felt it then—the telltale bubble in her chest, the airless tingle in her lungs, the warmth all the way to her toes. The L-word was floating through her mind again, trying to break free, and she couldn’t let it. They’d changed the rules by leaving the library, but that rule was important. She couldn’t think it before because she’d have only gotten hurt, but now, she couldn’t think it because she might say it out loud. Nosty wouldn’t stay if she said she loved him. 

“I’m hungry,” she said instead. “Dinner?” 

She didn’t want to go out again—and takeout was getting expensive—so she dug around in her freezer until she came up with a bag of meatballs and made spaghetti. Nosty sidled up behind her while she tossed the noodles with sauce, kissing the back of her neck.

“Almost ready,” she said, though she stilled her hands to savor the feel of his stubble on her shoulder, his hands holding tight to her hips. She could get used to this.

“You’re cute cooking,” he growled into her ear before tugging on the lobe with his teeth. 

Her legs wobbled and she sighed out loud when he licked at her pulse.

“Nosty—” She knew she didn’t sound anywhere near as firm as she meant to, especially not when she sighed again as he scraped his teeth along her neck.

“Mm?”

“I can’t cook if you keep making me weak in the knees.”

“Not my problem, sweetheart.” He slid one hand under the hem of her shirt, splaying his dry, callused fingers across her stomach, then switched sides of her neck.

“Don’t you want to eat?”

“Mmhmm.” He bit the juncture between her neck and shoulder, not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough that he had to brace her with the hand on her hip when she swayed. 

“Not me!” But she could hardly protest when her hands, of their own volition, were setting the utensils down so that she could turn, and Nosty could both hold her steady and pull her hips against his with his hand on the skin of her back, and he could cup her neck with his other hand and run his thumb along her lower lip, watching her like he could ignite her with just his gaze.

“You—” he growled, but then seemed to think better of it, or maybe he just couldn’t stop himself from capturing her lips with his. Belle rubbed his stubbly cheek and neck with one hand, holding his elbow like a lifeline with the other. 

When they kissed at the library, there was always the tiny, secret thrill of being caught, but even knowing they could have stood here all night and the only consequence would be cold spaghetti, Belle still felt the same fire burning from her lips to her heart to her belly and thighs. 

She slid her hand between his locks, like he liked to with her hair, and when her nails scraped along his scalp, he cried out. 

For a second, she worried she’d hurt him—Nosty never made noises—but then he hauled her closer, cupping her backside in his strong, capable hand, and it would have been so easy to wrap her leg around him, to let him hoist her onto the counter next to the empty spaghetti box and bag of meatballs. 

He bit her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, and then before she could lose her mind completely, pulled his mouth off of hers. 

If he’d left her like this in the library, she’d have known it was on purpose—Nosty was always in control, always the instigator and the one who left. Now, his chest heaved as much as hers did, and after less then a second apart, he was back, peppering her neck and shoulder with soft, featherlight kisses. 

When she sighed his name, he stopped, lips pressed to her collar. 

“Belle.” His mouth moved against her skin, and he didn’t pull away.

“Hmm?”

His breath on her skin was hot and wet, half-steady and half-ragged. “You’re the only person who’s ever given two fucks if I eat or starve.” 

Could he feel her heart breaking beneath his lips? He had to feel it pounding. She could feel her heart in every one of her veins, all the way down to the soles of her feet. I love you, it pounded out. Traitor.

“I care about you so much,” she said instead.

“Why?” He buried his face lower, tucking his head under her chin. “Why me?”

Because I love you. But that wasn’t what he asked, and she would thank her too-eager heart not to give her away.

“Because I don’t feel lonely when I’m with you.” 

He lifted his face, pulling away from her just enough that he could cup hers in both hands, running his fingertips along her cheek so gently, she thought she might faint.

“You feel lonely with other people?” 

“Everyone,” she said. “I was lonely my whole life until I met you.” 

Closing his eyes, he touched his forehead to hers. “Me too.” 

“And,” she said, because if she didn’t keep talking, her heart would surely say something for her, “You make me laugh.”

He kissed her again then, like he couldn’t go another second without, and then pulled away and took a full step back, taking her hands as he did.

“I really like you,” he said, and she could have floated away if not for his hands on hers. “You’re fucking mad, but I’ll try to make you laugh any time I can. And—” He lifted her arm and for a second, she thought he meant to dance, but all he did was twirl her back around to the stove, then take his spot pressed up behind her. She snorted.

“And?”

“I do want to eat.”

[chapter 6]

[voxofthevoid]

JJK 214 has healed me

I’m sure the upcoming chapters will fuck me up all over again, but that’s future me’s problem. Anyway, Sundays/Mondays now seem to be "Vox screams about the new JJK chapter” hours on my blog now. This time, it’s going to be “screaming about Yuuji” hours specifically. 

Spoilers, thoughts, and a shitload of images under the cut.

Yuuji???? Yuuji!!!!!!

That was my reaction from the first to the last page on my first readthrough, and honestly, it hasn’t changed much even after I reread a few times and processed...all that.

Seriously, Yuuji, what the fuck are you made of.

Sukuna also seems to be thinking that, which is hilarious. I have a feeling his standards for “twisted” are pretty high, so him calling Kenjaku that both cracks me up and makes me wonder what kind of alterations they made to Yuuji, exactly.

That said, I think I misunderstood the extent of Yuuji’s injuries last chapter. I got the impression, from the following panels, that Sukuna had punched through Yuuji’s midsection:

But that doesn’t seem to be the case. There’s some (inconsistent?) damage to his clothes from the punch, but Yuuji didn’t, in fact, become a donut.

No blood on Sukuna’s fist here. And, of course, there’s Yuuji himself in Chapter 214:

The front of his jacket looks intact (but isn’t that the part that seemed torn up in Chapter 213, or is that supposed to just look crumpled?), but there’s a hole in the back. Animanga cloth logic, I suppose. Other than inhuman durability, I don’t think Yuuji is healing himself. His little finger doesn’t seem to have grown back. And next chapter, I guess we’ll see if the tip of the ear Sukuna sliced off continues to be missing; the last panel showed it intact, but that could just be inconsistent drawing. Or maybe it’s the other side, who knows. Manga panels confuse me sometimes.

Anyway, even without being made a donut, the guy got punched through three goddamn buildings by fucking Sukuna, and Megumi definitely wasn’t fighting back then to lessen the damage. It’s frankly unreal how quickly Yuuji not only got back up but also covered the distance to where Sukuna and Hana are. He’s also displaying an insane level of strength. I just about lost my mind at this:

Hell, Sukuna seems shocked for a split second, and that really says something. It’s been explicit from the start that Yuuji’s physical abilities are superhuman, and the Kenjaku/Kaori reveal somewhat clarified why that’s the case, but I don’t think we’ve seen this level of raw destructive power from him before. The cursed energy-less fight with Higuruma was impressive though, and I think here, we’ll get to see what Yuuji can bring to the table with cursed energy in the equation.

Speaking of which, after the last chapter, I did see a lot of speculation on whether or not Yuuji would still have cursed energy after Sukuna left him. But the concept of Yuuji losing his cursed energy because Sukuna is out of him never made sense to me. Yuuji’s cursed energy isn’t Sukuna’s; if it were, he’d have a much larger pool to tap into. The first Finger Bearer’s reaction when Yuuji switched with Sukuna seems to indicate the two of them feel very different. And JJK has shown again and again how cursed techniques and cursed energy are tied to souls as much as bodies (Kenjaku being the prime example). So, like Gojou theorized, if Sukuna had stayed inside Yuuji, over time, he likely would have been able to use Sukuna’s cursed energy and technique. But as of now, Yuuji was the vessel for a little less than six months, and he’s only had 15 fingers’ worth of Sukuna for a few weeks. I’d say it’s reasonable that ingesting Sukuna just...opened Yuuji’s third eye, so to speak. Gave him access to his own cursed energy. The movie training Gojou did wouldn’t make sense otherwise either. The whole point there was to teach Yuuji how to harness his cursed energy and increase the output steadily. I don’t know if future plot developments will show Yuuji actually using Sukuna’s cursed techniques; I’d personally prefer if he didn’t, but regardless of how that develops, Yuuji’s cursed energy is his own.

Up till now, Yuuji’s been shown to be on par with Grade 1 sorcerers even without an innate technique, and his skill at cursed energy manipulation has been improving in leaps and bounds. But honestly, it’s his sheer sturdiness that’s blowing my mind, even if that has also been consistently highlighted (in the fights against Choso, Kenjaku, Hakari, and Higuruma especially). Maybe it’s because he’s up against Sukuna now, and Sukuna’s previous fights have done a great job of showing him as capable of curb-stomping anyone other than Gojou. The same guy now seems borderline creeped out by Yuuji—well, what Kenjaku has done to Yuuji more like.

Can’t blame him though. I’d also be pretty WTF if a guy kept walking without even changing his expression through this:

That is gonna live rent free in my head. Sweet fuck.

(If/when that gets animated, I'll expire.)

Back to the point, Megumi fighting back and lowering Sukuna’s output has probably kept Yuuji from being cut into little pieces, but those are still deep, bleeding gashes all over his body, in addition to the singular Cleave Sukuna used earlier. Motherfucker doesn’t even falter. What the fuck.

I love this kid. I am 100% willing to throw down with anyone who calls him a boring protagonist (looking at you, Reddit, but Tumblr too).

On another note, “Let’s see if you can chew up me and my suffering” is one of the rawest lines I’ve heard in a while. Excuse me while I lose my entire goddamn mind.

Hana and the Angel

They don't seem to be dead? Not confirmed dead at least. “Splat” doesn’t seem very reassuring, but it’s been hinted that the Angel can heal Hana, so I’m fairly sure they’ll pop back up. What I am confused about is why Sukuna just bit off an arm instead of, say, her head. Among the sorcerers left in that colony, the Angel is the only one who seems to pose an actual threat to him. Why would he waste the chance to end that threat? One possibility is that Jacob’s Ladder did its job to an extent in “stripping Sukuna away from Megumi,” internally at least, and that it’s Megumi’s influence that lessened the damage. But Sukuna doesn’t seem to notice Megumi fighting back / influencing him until the last attack on Yuuji, so I’m not sure how plausible that is. Other option is that Sukuna thought biting off an arm and shoving them off the building would kill Hana and the Angel with her, but given how durable sorcerers in general are and how the Angel can likely heal, this seems a stupid choice. I guess we’ll find out soon, one way or the other. Could also just be a simple case of plot reasons reigning over consistent characterization.

Megumi

I don’t have much to say here. Zero surprise at Megumi fighting back. It’d have been a very unceremonious end if he’d been crushed by Sukuna’s soul just like that, and the last chapter did highlight Megumi’s potential to suppress the guy. I didn’t expect it to happen this fast, but I do like how pivotal his influence is. Megumi and Yuuji ganging up on Sukuna from the inside and outside, respectively, sounds like a fun time all around. I don’t think it would be enough to beat the guy, but cursed energy output seems a pretty critical factor for sorcerers, and if Megumi can continue to mess with that while Yuuji hits like freight train, I think they can do a good amount of damage.

Yuuji’s Origins

Thought we were done with Yuuji? Lol no.

I have questions about this panel:

That’s the TCB translation.

This is the Viz one.

(I prefer TCB overall, won't lie.)

What in the world does this mean? The phrasing points to a different time period rather than some point in the manga timeline. The comment about Kenjaku being really twisted points to it too. I don't think (more like, I really hope) Yuuji is a reincarnated sorcerer, but something seems real fishy here. And I can't even begin to guess, honestly. But I have faith that whatever Kenjaku cooked up for his favorite son is going to be interesting—and traumatizing for all parties involved, especially Yuuji.

Back to screaming into the void, but at least they're good screams this time.

[kinetic-elaboration]

July 12: Gloomy Day

Gloomy day, gloomy me. I just feel so down. It's getting worse with time but that's also probably just... it being the end of the day.

Objectively not a horrible day even if I was sad and pathetic the whole time. We still haven't rolled over (!!) but we're so close and should be able to on Monday. I talked with K for probably 90 minutes about our exhibit, about which I remain very much in denial. Split what has to be have been the most expensive pizza in the world (somehow) with six other library people. Got a ride home because it was a fucking monsoon out for all of about 15 minutes just as I was leaving work. Which--the ride part was fortuitous.

The weather has annoyed me disproportionately. I feel like I spent all night at work because it was so dark. And I was actually not going to go straight home; I was going to sit around for a while and think thoughts, so the bad timing of the rain really grated on me. Every weekend I've been too tired or it's been too hot or something, something, something. The universe trying to tear down my mental health specifically, I can only assume.

B would have been willing to go out to like a 9:40 movie tonight... Imagine. It's still raining. If I'm not in bed (I am not in bed), I'm not living my best life. At any rate: tomorrow. I'm not sure what to expect from this thing, if it's going to be actually scary... We'll see.

I feel like I should go back to thinking of writing before bed as this like requirement of life, that I've gotten too complacent in thinking 'well maybe I won't' even if it's been for good reasons (being sick!). Because the thing is there are always excuses. I am tired and sad. And I don't really know what I'm doing here; I'm very much treading water. But it will be good for me, in both a short and long term sense.

[ivebeenjake]

Today was a top-10 bad day at work.

We have a part timer who only works Mondays and Fridays. (She’s a float who refuses to float, and my manager just volunteered her to go work at our Orchard Park location in 2 weeks and I know she’s not going to go. That’s a whole other story though.)

One worker requested the day off because she didn’t want her son to go on some field trip with his summer camp. I really don’t understand that rationale but whatever.

Another worker had a half day scheduled for today because she had a dentist appointment that took her months to get, and she’s also working Saturday so she needed a half day in the week and it only made sense.

That left me, my manager, my assistant manager, and one other worker who’s a complete fucking mess. Don’t get me wrong, I like him, but he’s an entire decade younger than me and super immature. He’s had a pretty fucking traumatic thing happen in his family a few months ago (his brother killed 2 cops in a coke-fueled rage and in turn got himself killed) but for the most part he has acted like he’s okay and doesn’t/won’t talk about it.

Well, I found out today that he had a meeting scheduled with our regional manager in the midst of us being down three workers (I was actually reminded that I was told last week, but I blacked it out due to anger) because he’s unhappy with his job not going anywhere. Other than the fact that he’s had a promotion and a raise every year since he’s started (he’s only been here 6 months longer than I have and we both started in 2021) but he feels slighted that things have been brought up to him like some sort of manager-in-training program, but has been pushed to the back burner. Like every fucking job in corporate America that I’ve worked in. Never mind the fact that I jumped through the hoops and played my part to get the same promotions, but I missed out on the raise and title change by one week last year and was told I’d get it at my 6-month, only for the fucking bigwigs to decide a MONTH before my 6-month mark that they weren’t doing 6-month raises and promotions anymore!

Regardless, our half day worker was supposed to leave at 12:30, and the immature worker had a meeting 10 minutes away at 1:00. So, my assistant manager and I decided we’d take lunches at 11:30 and 12:00 because he was my coverage when our half day worker left. She kept trying to insist that she could stay as late as 3:00 today, but then we’d have to give her a some hours off elsewhere in the week and it was just better to get it done today. She also needs to get more of a backbone because she’ll let anyone walk all over her and I’m constantly trying to get her to stick up for herself and not be taken advantage of.

So my assistant manager takes his lunch at 11:30. More like 11:35, which mean he wouldn’t be back until 12:05 and that’s if he’s back right on time which he never is. He has no sense of urgency and has a very lackadaisical attitude towards his job. (A job I also applied for, and was told I just wasn’t qualified enough to get, even though I’ve fucking been doing most of that job since he started. Again, another story.)

The immature worker decides he’s just gonna go take his lunch at 12:00 without talking to anyone about it. Because he has no sense of teamwork or care for anyone else. Today is about him! It’s his day to meet with our regional so he can vent to him and tell him he wants things to start moving forward for him! Never mind the rest of us.

At noon, two different groups of customers walk in needing assistance, and my manager takes one, and my assistant manager decides he’s going to take the other because asshole immature worker is on a lunch he didn’t clear, and he actually believed it would be super quick. Cut to 50 minutes later and it’s already past the time our half day girl is supposed to leave. He finally finishes up, decides he’s gonna spend 5 minutes scanning paperwork to himself, and then comes and relieves me for my lunch. Almost a whole hour later.

I should also point out that the immature worker left directly after his lunch, that ended at 12:30, to drive not even 10 minutes down the road for his 1:00 meeting! And he didn’t tell anyone! He has such a massive lack in his communication skills that they’re breathtaking.

I actually clocked back in 5 minutes early; I had finished half of an episode of The Bear I stopped the day before, and decided I’d be nice to not have our girl wait any longer.

After she left, our manager came up to where my assistant manager and I were and was attempting to get me to crack a smile or something, but when I get stressed and angry, I tend to bottle things in and retreat inward. He kept pushing me and said “I don’t know why you’re so grumpy today”, which made me go off on him, to which I said “there’s a massive difference between being grumpy and being frustrated, and you should know the difference by now!” He asked if there was anything he could do to help, and I said we’d talk later.

The rest of the day was just so. fucking. BUSY. And the asshole immature kid didn’t come back until after 3:00, like what the FUCK was he talking to our regional about for almost 2 hours? He called our manager when his meeting was over, and I just know that he was wanting our manager to say “you know what buddy, there’s no sense in you coming back, why don’t you just go home?”, but thankfully he didn’t. Our manager actually had work for him to do that kept him there well after our day ended.

I wrapped up at 4:05 and went to say goodbye to my manager because he’s not in the office tomorrow (thank god), to which he asked me to come into his office and close his door. I proceeded to dump my entire day of frustrations onto him, including the one major thing that annoys me about him, which is that he is always the first one to jump whenever another location needs help and sends one of us elsewhere, leaving us short-staffed, but do you think he could have asked anyone else to come help us out today? I shouldn’t have had to say something to him in order for him to come to that realization, which he agreed with me and apologized for.

I’m just so over other people being selfish and not giving a shit about anyone else we work with. Just last week, I was wanting to watch either an episode of The Bear or an episode of The Boys on my lunch, but the coworker that was with me in the break room watches both and isn’t caught up yet, so I decided to doomscroll on TikTok instead. Fuck that! No more. I’m tired of being the bigger person caring for everyone else. I told my manager that. Until I start seeing a little respect given back to me, I’m not accommodating anyone else. I’m going to start being selfish and if they don’t like it, tough shit.

The immature worker had papers that needed to be mailed out today, but wasn’t sure how much postage we’d need to put on the oversized envelope. I told him yesterday he could walk over to the post office today with our roll of stamps (the post office is literally right next door to us) and he never did. Remember! He was too busy giving a shit about himself and no one else! And this fucker actually had the balls to ask me as I was leaving if I had taken it over for him, because it was imperative those papers get mailed out today. I had a piece of mail I needed to send out in my hand, and I walked away from him without saying a goddamn word. I also locked up the stamps before I left too. Oopsie.

As I was driving home, I was just so exhausted from all the bullshit. I passed my grandparents’ house on the way, and they were both outside, waiting for me to drive by, so excited to see me and waving. I waved back and it put the biggest smile on my face, but as I turned the corner away from them, I burst out crying, mostly from the weight of today, but also because I had the thought in my head that I’m not going to have that anymore someday and it made me so sad.

I had something poignant I wanted to wrap this up with but it’s flown out of my head. Eh.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Well, I’ve had a hell of a week. So far since last weekend, I have:

- Had a conversation with my roommate after which I became sure I would not be able to stay in my house. There’s been a whole thing for the last couple of months where my roommate is moving out and has tried to give our place to someone else, but I very much like this place (for reasons that range from good price and good location and it’s a good house, to I get too emotionally attached to places where I spend too much time) and want to stay here, and it’s long and complicated but basically I’ve had two months of being constantly stressed due to uncertainty about where I’ll be living in the fall. Then last weekend, I had a very confrontational call with my roommate – and I don’t do confrontation well – in which he informed that he was going to do something I had not previously thought of in order to give the house away, I was pretty sure it would work, got very upset due to the unexpected confrontation and due to the fact that I became sure I wouldn’t be able to stay here.

- Three days later, a couple of other people talked to my roommate, I talked to the landlord, a few things changed (including – I’m not saying my roommate will listen to men but not women, but when our male mutual friend made all the exact same points to him that I did, suddenly they made sense), and I’m now pretty sure I can keep the place. More sure than I’ve been for two months. The first time in two months that I’ve been able to lift almost all of that stress off my shoulders, and it’s an amazing feeling. I almost hesitate to write this for fear of inviting the worst, since nothing’s signed yet, it’s not for sure. Also I do still have to find a new roommate to cover the other half of the rent because his subletter’s moving out. But I can figure that out. It’s a huge relief to know it’ll very likely be okay.

- On Monday night, I accompanied my brother to one of his comedy shows, a decision I made partly to take my mind off worrying about whether I’d get to stay in my place (since I hadn’t yet heard the good news about that getting better). My brother convinced me to put my name in a draw, where whatever name they pick gets to perform in the one spot they keep open for that. My fucking name got picked. I performed stand-up comedy for the first time. I recited some shit that I wrote a while ago and have wanted to perform but haven’t had the guts to try before. It went much better than I’d expected, though that’s only because I’d expected it to be a catastrophic failure. In reality it went fine. People laughed more than one time, which wildly exceeded my expectations. Afterward, several comedians and several audience members came up to me to say I did well. Some were presumably just being nice (I’m sure “just being nice” also factored into the laughs, as I did immediately tell them this was my first time doing it), but they seemed to mean it, at least a bit. I think it actually was all right for a first time. Afterward I hung around the bar and drank with comedians and it was the first time in ages that I can remember having so much fucking fun without any part of it being difficult.

- On Wednesday, I went out to a live Celtic music night. This is because a couple of weeks before that, my parents went to a folk festival out East and saw a few of my favourite singers, and that made me sad, because I used to go see music all the time, and I stopped in 2020, and I’ve seen a couple of music things since then but not many, and I miss it. So, it occurred to me, there’s nothing stopping me from just starting it again. The day after the folk festival that I missed, I Googled folk music in my area, found a reasonably priced Celtic music night at a venue that’s relatively near me, that I’d never heard of because it just opened during the pandemic. I checked its schedule and it has a lot of stuff that I like, including monthly Celtic music nights. This sort of thing is part of why I care so much about staying in my place that’s downtown. Near my sport. Near my friend. Near comedy. Near live music. I’ve spent so much time staying in my house not doing stuff, I’m only just starting to do stuff again, I want to do everything, that is not a good time to lose my downtown housing.

So on Wednesday, I walked to this new music venue, and it’s so good. So good. The perfect size, big enough to fit enough of a crowd to bring in touring musicians, not big enough for the size of the room to impact enjoyment. Capacity of about 90 people, I think, and well spread out. Stage with enough room for a band with lots of instruments. A building that was clearly made with acoustics in mind, the sound quality was fantastic. And when I got there, I didn’t want to pay for the overpriced water bottles you get at venues, but I was so hot and thirsty from the walk that I decided it was worth it. So I asked at the counter for a bottle of water, and they told me I could just take a cup and fill it from their water cooler for free. I will be returning to that venue.

Then they played music! God, it’s been so long since I’ve seen that stuff live, I love it. It was a band I didn’t know, but was made of four people, two of whom I did know, from other projects they’ve done. Three were local and one from out East. They all knew their shit, played a bunch of classics and some of their own stuff. Stuck very closely to the “Celtic” remit (unlike some bands that will just define “Celtic music” as “anything with a fiddle”), explained the history of every song and tune, it was mainly Scottish and some Irish and a few Cornish songs. Was fucking beautiful. The show was just about to start when I got a text from my roommate telling me he’d spoken to the landlord and I’ll get more details later but I’m going to be able to stay in the house.

- On Thursday, I went out to a different comedy night. This is one I’ve been to before, a pub that runs comedy every Thursday just around the corner from my house. I went a bunch of weeks in a row this spring, and hadn’t been for a few weeks, but was pleased when the woman working at the bar still recognized me when I came in, asked me where I’d been. This was normal, she’d started recognizing me after I’d been going for a few weeks. What was less normal was that this time, the guy who runs the comedy night also went up to me, and asked if I planned to put my name in the lotto draw, the same type of thing that I did on Monday when my name got picked and I performed. The Monday and Thursday night things both have seven comedians who are booked ahead of time, and then leave open one “lotto spot” that goes to whoever’s name gets pulled from a pitcher.

I said no, because that hadn’t occurred to me, I hadn’t even started to think about how I wanted to try performing again, I’d only come to watch. Then I sat down, thought for five minutes, got back up, and put my name in. Because why not?

My name didn’t end up getting picked, but I enjoyed some of the comedy (not all of it, these nights can be hit and miss, but a few people were good). After it was over, while I was paying my bill, the guy who runs the comedy night came over to me again. He addressed me by my first name, which briefly surprised me because I’d not spoken to him before that night, and I hadn’t realized he knew my name. He said he was sorry I didn’t get picked for the lotto spot, but would I like to perform – as in be on the actual bill, not just in the lotto – on August 10th, in two weeks?

My first thought was genuinely that he’d made some sort of mistake, what with me not being a comedian. I asked him if he was sure, and he said, “Yeah, I saw you at [name of other pub, that runs the Monday night comedy], you were good. So do you want to perform here in two weeks?” I said yes, and thank you, and tried to seem relatively cool about it. Then I left the bar (after briefly apologizing to the guy who had compered the night for how quiet the audience was, including me because to be honest I’d been too distracted by wondering if I’d get picked for the lotto spot to laugh out loud much, but the compere was good and got visibly distressed about how little audience reaction he got, I told him he was funny and deserved a better response, and he told me that made him feel much better and my comment made his night, I’d been nervous to say that to him but then was glad I did, little life tip, if you have nice things to say to people you should say them), and walked home while trying not to shout out loud “I love this fucking city!” as though I was Jim Carry running across town at the end of a movie.

So... it wasn't just people wanting to be nice when they told me on Monday I'd done well. A guy who runs a comedy night thought I did well enough to put me on a bill.

- Last night, I went out for dinner with my best friend, hadn’t eaten in actual restaurant in ages, that was really nice. Hung out at my place afterward. Appreciated how convenient it is to live a fifteen-minute walk from a guy I’ve known for twenty years and still want to see all the time.

- Today, Saturday, I’m about to drive to Montreal to see Tom Ballard and Josie Long, two of my favourite comedians, in a fairly small room at the Just For Laughs Festival. I am so fucking excited. Beyond fucking excited. I am not even going to try to explain how excited I am, because I won’t do it justice. I’ve written a couple of posts about it already. I can barely even think about it. I still can hardly wrap my mind around the idea that Josie Long is a real person and will be in a room with me, even though I’ve been sent pictures she’s put on social media of herself since she arrived in Canada earlier this week.

- Tomorrow, I am being sent to the seaside for my health. I fly out to my grandparents’ home on Canada’s East Coast, my favourite place in the world (Canada’s East Coast in general is a place I love, but my grandparents’ house, out in rural Nova Scotia and right on the ocean, where they’ve been living since I was two years old and where I’ve spent a lot of time every year of my life, is my actual favourite place in the world). My parents have been there for a couple of months now (that’s how they went out to the folk festival that I had to miss due to not being in the area), and I’ll be joining them for a week, and then we’ll all drive home next weekend, and I start a new job on August 8th.

My grandparents won’t be there – they moved into a care home a while ago, and my parents love that house so much and have been trying to figure out a way to keep it in the family, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to work. So part of why they went down this summer was to look into the process of selling it. They did do that a bit, and nothing’s happening immediately, but there’s a good chance this week will be the last time I’ll ever go there. I hope it won’t be. Selling it might take a long time and I might get there again. Or it might sell immediately because it’s the best place in the world.

Either way, I’m going to enjoy this time there. I feel really lucky to have had all the time with it that I’ve had for thirty years, and I feel lucky to get to see it again next week.

So, that's my life update. Things have been rather rough for a while, but they're really looking up. Not everything's sorted out yet, but to paraphrase 30 Rock's Liz Lemon, I am hesitantly allowing myself to feel slightly hopeful.

[flockofdoves]

im going fucking cuckoo bananas. why is it so hard to fill my schedule to be a full time student for my last semester when i am infamously the type of person who wants to learn about everything ever and jumps at any opportunity to take random classes

have really really really wanted to take advanced spanish grammar for so long but every fucking semester i have a necessary class during that time (due to the epidemic of every class in the world being in late morning on tuesday/thursday) and this semester my One Singular Class I Absolutely Need To Graduate is at that time

so then i was like. oh well. i'll take italian 1 instead since my grandfather has been trying to plan one last trip to where his family is from and if i get to go it will be good to practice italian in a formal context

but then that trip fell through and i just really really want to improve my spanish so i emailed a class for heritage speakers to see if it would be appropriate for me and the professor got back to me and said i was welcome to come to the first class and try it out

and so today i went to the spanish for heritage speakers class and it made me so so excited to be immersed in spanish again and going over the content of the course, with the exception of how i don't really need much writing help since when i was learning all the basics of how to read and write i did that as much in spanish as i did english, all the grammar topics were exactly what i needed and the idea of a class where everyone talks at a high level and theres no english but you still get into the basics of explaining different grammar topics is so so refreshing!!!

and at the end of class the professor was like your spanish is at a high enough level for this class so if you want to take it then see you monday! and it got me so excited

and then the italian class was just really extremely basic. i understand basically anything said to me in italian and know a decent amount of vocab i just have trouble speaking but throughout my life i have at least studied basics like past and present tense and articles and stuff. so my goals were to learn more grammar and make my pronunciation better (i always pronounce everything so spanish and dont have a good sense for what words have which e or o sound)

but this professor was like yeah basically this whole course is just present tense and well learn the sinple past tense right at the end. but i already know that!!! and also unfortunately she has a noticeable american accent while speaking so thats not much help for improving my accent either

so i was like well whatever that makes my decision easy ill drop italian and take the spanish class. but still just in case i asked her about if i could take an italian placement test (was nervous about that originally because the next level up was during my necessary class again) and she was like yeah ive never had to do that before but i can figure that out for next week. which is a little nervewracking bc add/drop ends on wednesday. but whatever i was excited about taking spanish now

but then when i got home today i saw an email from the spanish professor (technically a grad student) like ‘i talked to my colleagues and even if your spanish level is high enough since you are not a heritage speaker here are some classes better suited for you [classes where you write huge essays in spanish which i do not have the time or desire for rn]’

and that was upsetting because i just really most of anything wanted to take a spanish class but then i was feeling a bit better because it turned out there was a new section added of the italian 2 class that fit my schedule and looking through that classes textbook it seemed the exact mix of easy but not boring because ill still actually be learning stuff that i needed. and i even called my mom (who used to be an italian language professor) and read the textbook units and she agreed it seemed exactly right for me

so i went to start writing an email to that professor to be proactive even before taking the placement test but in the fucking half hour since i had last checked the page rhat section of the class filled up with no waitlist

so i looked through the entire search of classes in a certain block of time not on tuesday thursday for my giant university and literally rhe only thing that seemed both manageable and interesting was an intro to japanese class. and i was excited like wow! how did i miss this when i was first searching for classes! only to click on it and remember i did see it and the reason it wasnt on my backup class list was because it doesnt allow seniors to take it

[royrockstone]

i totally agree with your characterization of roman where he assumes all the sibs Are Equally Fucked Up and Actually IM The Normal One. I think he would definitely feel cornered if they approached him about food, like you’ve depicted before. I think incorporating connor would be super interesting bc I think he feels a protective/paternal sense over roman, and it’s been mentioned in canon he has a genuine interest in food. I feel like connor definitely has memories of younger Rome before his food issues really kicked up and is confused as to what happened along the way. sorry if this is a lot or all just hc ramble but roman lives in a jar on my desk and i love to shake it and tap on the glass <33

sorry this ask got temporarily lost in the succ sunday excitement (but happy succ monday if you observe on this day lol)!

i hadnt thought of connor knowing less-damaged roman and not getting what hppened </3 i love that— especially if, as connor had periods of years where he didnt see logan, he missed some pivotal stuff in the kids’ lives. and the kids, who may have grasped on to the little bits of affection they got from him, feeling rlly resentful abt his absence.

i def believe connor excused or even recapitulated the kind of harm logan caused all of them, or subordinated caring for them to chasing whatever pipe dream of approval and acclaim he liked that month, but i also always want to show the fondness he has for roman, bc hes a strong second place after rome for most love-driven/emotional/affectionate roy and a fellow weak dog, in addition to clearly thinking of himself as paternal (or at least avuncular lol) to the whole trio. And i think he rlly resents them for have logan around all the time and for having the Pedigree that comes from being carolines kids and for never having to take care of anyone but themselves (and rlly, not even themselves)

basically i think hes totally valid to say hes the closest thing they had to a caring adult and where the fuck is the love in return, and romans totally valid to say that he only dropped by when he felt like it, did the fun stuff (or the ‘extra’ stuff logan couldnt be fucked with) and locked them back in the dog cage when he was done playing with them and that he rlly has no idea what it was like for them, AND hed be right to say that they have no idea what hes been through and that they treat him like a joke AND theyd be right to say that hes always been more interested in sucking off logan than being near them and and and—

just a lot of delicious resentment and guilt underscored by real, genuine affection and thats the yummy stuff

[marengogo]

I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR THIS INTERRUPTION TO MY USUAL CONTENT 😌

I was gonna wait a bit longer, but with Hobi leaving tomorrow, I want to concentrate on that, and never have to bring this up after tonight, also I really did think it would all stop last week TBH

Wish I could have had a tête-a-tete with you, @mrs-monaghan, also sorry I tagged you but I am a nobody you don't know and I don't trust DMs, I've recently had one person disappear and because I trust people too much, I didn't SC convos, so I just thought, let me cut to the chase! but I was at work and as you so kindly pointed out, I need to focus when speaking to you, since you couldn't understood what I wrote in my reblog. Alas, english is not my first language, but we are going to make due, I am sure. Even without a translator, right? If not I'd suggest google, it is free and can work sometimes!

Speaking of free resources, the internet has a lot of them, such as dictionaries. Remember how I called you Ms Bla bla bla? Yeah, all that talking for a whole week yet, for the life of me, I coulnd't understand how you could keep misusing the word "bullying". It was just so jarring! Like Gurl! It's not that hard, no cap, I've held this in for like a week now, because I didn't know how to find the correct english words, but I think I have them now so I can finally let it out! Also I thought I'd start Monday with you not misusing that word anymore, but... I promise! Let me help, this is one of the few english words I know the meaning like the back of my hand!

BULLYING - seek to harm, intimidate, or coerce (someone perceived as vulnerable)

Definitions can be hard by themselves, I know learning english was a mission for me! So let me add examples:

If you ever talk about Tae I'll find you and i will break your fingers so bad, you won't be able to write a comment in your life

You worthless double-faced minion, shut the fuck up about Tae

You don't know what you are saying, take it back. You know you are wrong, you can't be thinking like that; there is no way you think you are right?

Does it make sense? If I, for example, decided to block some accounts which, for example, I know were hella double-faced, it was for me. Were any of the blocked told to change their minds? NO. Where they attacked be me explaining why they were blocked? NO. Would it be my fault trying to think about how every person on this planet could perceive my decision? NO. Feel however the fuck you want to feel, but if my mind perceives it to be toxic, I will not stay in toxicity, so I will not have you around me with that shit, is that so hard to understand? Like damn!

A conversation is had between 2 or more people, and believe it or not, people have the right to refuse to talk to you if they don't want to, and in your case you were ACTUALLY given a reason! WHAT MORE DO Y'ALL NEED? People are going to start WW3 with my decision how is that on me? Please. In the same way you, right now, can decide to reply to this post, not, to talk about me in your blog, WHATEVER, it is entirely up to you. Do you! And I can assure you I'll do me. keep going on and on and on and on and on and on misusing the word "bullying" I wont' stop caring because the relief I feel now that I've pointed out it's misuse; I'm ready to learn more english words!!

Tho, part of me would like to have a conversation with you, but I'm so concerned you will not understand anything I say so I can but feel sorry and apologetic. Whereas, on my side, I understood EVERYTHING you've said in your post the past week, and misuse of the word "bullying" aside, I swear it's been a minute since I've encountered someone whom has convinced themselves so hard that they are right, it is kinda scary. Last time it was in a K-drama named the Glory; Park Yeon-Jin. The verbal onslaught resemblance is uncanny if you haven't watched the glory you should, it's amazing!.

Anyways, I just wanted to correct the use of the word, for the rest you are entitled to your opinion so I don't care; definitions though are NOT opinions. I 👏🏾 CAN'T 👏🏾 STRESS 👏🏾 THAT 👏🏾 ENOUGH 👏🏾. Ayte? I'm sure you are well, I'm sure you've surrounded yourself with people you can trust why am I even saying this? Maybe I am being manipulated into saying this? Or maybe not? Which is it??..., so I don't need to wish you to stay healthy, which is correct english for "be well" right? Don't worry, if you ever reply to me, and whenever I reply to you cause to be fair I've had Anons waiting for months, and I am being unfair to them I promise my english will be better!

Always respectfully, and crassily not a word I know yours,

Marengo.

PS - feel free to call me whatever the fuck you want, but calling Megan the Stallion, Lizzo? What have they ever done to you? 👀 Like gurl ...

[cilldaracailin]

You’re My Best Friend

Hello my Tumblr Lovely’s

Happy Monday :)

Here is the next part for everyone!

Love Suze xx

5

“Joy came always after pain.”

It was near half one in the afternoon when Taron finally felt like he could breathe again without sensing he was taking in water. He had talked and talked and talked, Robyn listening to every word, offering support and tonnes of hugs, holding his hand through it all. He moved around the bed as he spoke, from sitting, to kneeling, laying on his side to his back, his stomach, Robyn moving with him each time. He hugged cwtch hard, Robyn even harder and when he blew his nose again, the sigh that followed was filled with relief as he lay on the bed with his head on Robyn’s shoulder. He felt shattered, more so if possible then when he had arrived at Robyn’s home.

“So how much do you charge per hour?” He chuckled, hearing Robyn’s giggle. During their chat he had just let go of everything he had been thinking and feeling and he had laughed with her and in-between the tears and talking through his time on set, they shared memories of all the time they spent together.

“My services are free for citizens of Wales.” Robyn answered him, her hand still rolling through his hair as he leant against her.

“Well thank fuck for that because I would owe you a fortune.” His eyes closed as she scratched the crown of his head, snuggling a little into her shoulder. “Thank you Robyn. I guess I had a lot to talk about.”

“It was you introduced me to the idea of talking about your emotions.” She said leaning in to kiss his head. “It helps apparently.”

“It does. Really does.” He closed his eyes, very much enjoying the head massage from Robyn.

“It was nice to just sit and chat together through it all. It has been such a long time since we have been able to sit and talk to each other and now you know exactly what I have been doing since you left me too.”

Taron laughed lightly “Hmm yes. You sure you changed the sheets since the popcorn fight?”

“Yes, all changed and thank you again for the flowers and balloons.”

“You are welcome. I thought they would make you smile.”

“They did.” Robyn agreed as she ran her hand through his hair above his ear, smiling at his quiet moan, feeling his whole body rise and fall in a very deep breathe. It took a long while but as they chatted, she saw him relax, his shoulders dropped and the deep worry lifted from his face. It didn’t mean a part of him wasn’t still troubled but for the moment, their talk had helped and she could see he wasn’t fully laden down with the burdens he arrived with.

“Taron…”

“Hmmm…”

“Do you think maybe talking to Penny might help you?” She asked him carefully.

Taron lifted his head. “Penny?”

“Yeah.”

“You still chatting to Penny?”

Robyn nodded. “She likes to keep in touch with me. I actually find it a great help to be honest but she was so good with me and you after Florida, that maybe she can help you sort through your thoughts some more?”

Taron leaned his head back on Robyn’s shoulder. “I still have her number.” He mused. “I will give her a call.”

“It was just a thought.”

“It was a very good one Robyn. I like Penny.”

“Yeah me too.”

Taron cosied into Robyn again, closing his eyes as her hand went back into his hair. “I will have to give Matthew a call at some point.”

“I can do it if you want, just the first call to tell him that you will call him.”

“Nah I will talk to him. I am sure he is worried. I just had to sort through my thoughts first before I called him.”

“And maybe call your mam too?”

“Hmm yeah. That feels really nice Robyn.” He lowered his head a little, as Robyn dug her fingertips into his scalp. “Really really nice.” He snuggled some more into her.

“Sleep if you want. I know you are tired.”

“So tempting.”

“You only need to move down a little and you can get some rest.”

“I won’t sleep a wink tonight if I do.”

Robyn chuckled as his head moved a bit lower despite his words. “You would sleep through an earthquake when you are exhausted.”

Taron was so very comfortable leaning against the woman under him. Soft and cosy, he could feel his eyes closing and he shifted his body a little so he could drape his right arm around her waist. “Maybe a nap.”

“Nap away if you want.”

Feeling a new lightness since he took those wet steps into Robyn’s home, Taron closed his eyes, relived that the visions of bubbles were gone. He could have slept and slept well but he knew he had to be back at work on Tuesday, a thought that caused him to sigh. “It is so fucking tempting Robyn but I need to try and keep my body clock in some sort of decent order.” He sat up, yawning long as he stretched his body out. “Maybe an early night instead?”

“Whatever you want Taron.” Even though he had said he wasn’t going to sleep, when she looked to him, he was sitting with his eyes closed. She understood his reasoning behind staying awake, even though he had missed a few nights sleep. As always, work was on the back of his mind and she didn’t want him thinking about work right now so came up with a plan to help distract him. “Ok how about this. Let’s go and get some lunch and a coffee. You must be starving and the fresh air will help wake you up. We can walk down to the coffee shop we went to before, get your favourite window seat.”

“Walk?” He looked to her with wide eyes. “You are meant to be resting.” His lips lifted in a wide smile, which felt amazing after all the tears he had shed and he tapped her nose playfully. “No walking for you.”

“I have been cooped up in this house for the last how many days and hours and would love some fresh air and I will be with you and we can walk slowly together. If I feel off, we can turn back and make something here.” She pouted her a lip a little at him. “Please Taron. It would be good for both of us to get out for a bit. We can come back then and chill on the couch?”

He could never resist Robyn’s large blue eyes and as she pouted a little more, he sighed. “That is actually a really good idea. I could eat, drink some coffee and the fresh air would be good for both of us but on one condition.” Taron agreed but negotiated.

“And that is?”

“You start to feel anyway dizzy or weak or off, you need to tell me straight away and we will come back here.”

“Deal.” Robyn confirmed quickly.

“Fantastic but we also have another problem.”

“And that is?” Robyn asked.

“I have no clothes to wear and I would definitely make a scene if I go like this.” He pulled at his boxers.

Robyn bit her lip and then stood up and jumped off the bed, going into her closet. “So you don’t mind a good pair of tracksuit bottoms right?”

“Hmm no.” He called back to her, getting off the bed and giving himself a long stretch, hearing his body creak as he rolled his shoulders and neck. He could have easily searched through his wallet for a back massage voucher because he was nearly sure he had one and would have happily handed it over to Robyn there and then and she would have given him another but instead, gave himself another full stretch, hearing rustling from Robyn in her closet. He really liked her idea of taking a walk. A slow stroll through Kilcreen to get some food and a coffee sounded like a perfect plan. He still had a slightly fuzzy headache and knew the air would help him and the walk too to loosen up stiff muscles from his restless night.

“Ok well about these?” Robyn walked back out holding a dark grey pair of sweat pants. She saw his face frown. “Men’s.” She assured him.

“Men’s?” He questioned as he took them from her.

Robyn shrugged. “There is no law that says that a woman can’t shop in the men’s section and sometimes you just want an extra baggy pair of sweats.”

Taron held the waistband up against his waist and gave her a grin. “Men’s.” He confirmed. “So tell me Miss Quinn, what exactly do you do in men’s sweatpants in your house?”

Robyn’s face tinted bright red and she shook her head at him. “Make cookies.”

“Make cookies?” Taron repeated throwing the trousers over his shoulder. “Ok. Sure.” He pulled his t-shirt away from his chest. “Got another T to spare? Would love a change.” He laughed as a white t-shirt was thrown his way. “You still trying to find a way to get this back to me yeah?” He opened the white Elton John t-shirt he had given Robyn back in Belfast.

“We said when you came to visit me you would take it back.” She shrugged.

“True. These are perfect Robyn, thank you.”

“I am sorry I don’t have anything else for you to wear.” She said walking over to him. “Maybe you need to start leaving things here to wear. For these visits.”

“Maybe.” He hummed. “But these are good.”

“You take the bathroom first.” She said to him. “I am going to open some curtains, let some air in for a bit before we go. Check the weather. Maybe we should pop your clothes in the wash, so you actually have something to wear.”

“Yeah I will do.”

They parted ways, Taron going into the bathroom while Robyn made the bed, turned off the bed side lamp and opened the curtains, blinking a little as the bright sunlight beamed in through the glass windows. It was another lovely day outside and she opened the door to step outside, feeling the sun on her skin. It wasn’t roasting hot but just a nice t-shirt temperature and a perfect day to take a light walk. She had hoped Taron would take her up on her suggestion of lunch out to get him out of the house, to help clear his head some more and was so happy to find another way for him to relax a little. She was also a little desperate to leave her house too though. She had been inside for so many days and really wanted to get out but was nervous about going out alone before she had to get back to work and felt much more comfortable going with Taron because he had been with her when she had fallen and she knew, even though he was knackered, he would look out for her as they walked. Letting the sun shine on her face for a few more seconds, she stepped back inside, leaving the door open to let the air circulate in her room.

“Nice day out?”

She turned around, Taron walking out of the bathroom carrying the white t-shirt and his shoes. The grey sweatpants fitted him perfectly and as always they sat low on his waist and hips and she definitely found herself staring much longer then she should have. Pulling her eyes away from his body, she looked to his face. “It’s really nice. Please tell me they are dry.” She pointed to his converse.

“Yeah.” His lips lifted as Robyn marched over to him to take his shoes from him and check to make sure they were dry, his grin widening as she handed them back to him. “Dry. Give me ten.”

“I am going to give Matthew a quick call while you get changed.” He said to her, throwing his shoes and t-shirt onto the bed.

Robyn nodded his way and left him alone, routing through her clothes for some jeans and a t-shirt. In the bathroom her laundry hamper was empty and she could her the washing machine rumbling as it ran on the cycle Taron had put on. At the sink, his wash bag had been opened, his toiletries spilled out over her counter in a bit of a mess. Robyn put them neatly on her shelf, lining up bottles and jars for him, taking a sniff of the aftershave he had brought with him, closing her eyes as the familiar scent made her stomach flutter. She got dressed and washed up, tying her hair up in a messy bun. Knowing Taron was planning on giving his director a call, Robyn lingered in the bathroom for a bit longer than she needed, cleaning up a little, not that there was anything to clean up but she did spray his aftershave properly once letting the gorgeous male scent filter through her tiled bathroom. She loved the aftershave he wore and smelling it in her bathroom made her very happy. Figuring she had been hanging around long enough, spraying more of his aftershave in her laundry room before she actually put the blue bottle on the shelf, she then walked out quietly not wanting to disturb Taron if he was on his phone call.

“You can make some noise.” Taron said as he saw her creeping out of the closet. “I am all done.” Taron lifted his head to look at her before going back to tying his shoe lace. Dressed in a pair of jeans and black t-shirt, he felt his lips lift in a little smile at the simplicity of her outfit but loved how much he adored her in it. It was just how Robyn was but it still made him grin when he realised her t-shirt was his favourite v-neck shape. He felt the bed move as she sat beside him, feeling her arm on his shoulder. “I am fine.” He said to her before she could ask. “Just a quick chat with Matthew. He told me he was going to send me over some of the footage as soon as he could in the next few days, help ease my mind on the scene.” He turned to her when he was finished fixing his shoes. “I am ok.” He shuffled closer to her and gave her a sideways hug. “So, you promised me lunch and a coffee?”

“Yes I did.” Robyn nodded, wrapping her arms around his waist, giving him a tight squeeze. She saw a little of the worry back in his eyes and didn’t want to push him for more information so just hugged him to her, kissing his shoulder lightly.

“I closed the bedroom glass door already.” Taron said to her. “We are good to go.”

Once Taron had given Robyn his phone and wallet to put in her bag, they left her house and took an easy walk down into the town both enjoying the fresh breeze that was blowing through the nice summer’s day. Robyn was so thrilled to be out of her home and even more so that the tiredness she expected to come as she walked, never arrived, and it was just amazing to be herself once again. They walked close together as they came to the steps at the railway station, heading into the small town but as always, Taron knew he didn’t have to look behind him, feeling safe and secure in Robyn’s home town and as the coffee shop came into view, his footsteps sped up.

“Someone is eager.” Robyn chuckled as he walked a little in front of her.

“I can smell the coffee.”

“Caffeine leaving your system?” Robyn sped up to catch up with him, grabbing his hand to make him slow down.

“It’s been two days since my last cup.”

Robyn laughed at him, loving the smile on his face. He was by no means over what had happened to him but for the time being he was lighter and content and she very happy to feed him and fill him with coffee. She thanked him when he held open the door for her, walking straight to the fridge with the sandwiches, Taron coming to stand right beside her. They picked a sandwich each, Robyn also grabbing a bottle of water while Taron headed to look in the glass shelf with the cakes.

“So I can pick two right?” He asked with a grin.

“Whatever you want rocketman. My treat.” Robyn replied to him. “What you want to drink?”

“Large coffee.” He replied still staring into the cake counter.

“One large coffee it is then.” She took the sandwich from his hand and walked away from him to join the queue, only two people in front of her. By the time it was her turn Taron was back with her.

“So what can I get you?” The staff behind the counter asked as Robyn handed over the two sandwiches and bottle of water.

“I will take these, a large cappuccino, a peach iced tea and…” She looked to Taron.

“A cherry bakewell tart, a chocolate muffin and rice crispy square.” He answered adding please to his order.

“Sure. Eat in?”

“Yes please.” Robyn confirmed after she raised an eyebrow at Taron and his cakes, the Welshman just giving her a cute dimpled smile in return.

After their order had been placed and their sandwiches scanned through, Robyn then tapped her debit card on the machine to pay, pushing Taron a tiny bit as he frowned at her. “My treat.” She said to him. “Now do you wanna go and get your seat before it is taken?” She said to him seeing the most favoured window seat free from the corner of her eye.

“Yes.” Taron immediately answered, walking away from her with purpose and haste to get the couch that looked out the corner glass windows.

She watched him sit on the couch, right in the middle and chuckled to herself as he sat taking up as much of the couch as possible so no one else could sit beside him. She knew he was tired, still drained but his spirit was good and she definitely wanted to get him talking to Penny before he was back to work on Tuesday. She was sure it would do him so good to talk to someone else besides her and already having built a professional relationship with Penny, a deep personal chat with her would help Taron so much.

With her tray in her hands, she carried their lunch and Taron’s sweet treats towards their table, Taron jumping up to take it from her.

“Three cakes?” She questioned him.

“I haven’t eaten anything in two days.” He said as he took a seat, putting the tray on the coffee table, then patting the chair beside him.

“Two days?” Robyn stopped mid sit to stare at him. “Taron!” She dropped onto the couch. “And you have been lecturing me to take care of myself?”

“It’s been a bit stressful Robyn.” He said to her, biting his lower lip a little. “And you know yourself, stress can take your appetite away.” He felt his hand being taken and squeezed tight and he returned her sweet gesture. “And the rice crispy square is for you.” He added. “I know you like them.”

“Yes I do.”

He let go of her hand, opened the three packets of sugar on the tray and as he stirred some sugar into his coffee, shrugged a little “So it really is only two cakes.”

Robyn playfully rubbed his leg, smiling at the gorgeously boyish look on his face as he tried to talk his way around her cakes. “You must be starving.”

“Hence the two cakes.” He replied taking a sip from his cup, closing his eyes at the taste of the coffee. “Thanks Robyn.” He said as he opened the wrapper of his sandwich, picked up half and settled back into the couch.

“It’s just some lunch.” She said, copying him as she sat on the couch.

“It’s more than just lunch.” He said before he took a bite from the corner of his sandwich. “It’s so much more than that.”

Tucking into their lunch, Robyn moved to sit closer to him, both quiet as they ate. As it was after the lunch rush, the coffee shop was quiet enough, a few tables around filled with people but while she did acknowledge those who said hello to her, no one paid them any mind as they sat and ate their lunch. Taron was clearly hungry as he had finished his sandwich before Robyn even picked up the second half of hers or the rice crispy square he had picked for her, draining the last of his hot drink before he ate the bakewell tart, the chocolate muffin still waiting on the tray for him.

“I am going to get another coffee.” He said getting to his feet, still feeling stiff even with the walk, giving his shoulders a roll. “Want anything?”

“Nah, I am good.”

After he got his wallet from her bag and he had walked away from her, Robyn watched him go, smiling at just how comfortable he was in Kilcreen. She had seen him in places, barely able to walk down a street without being pestered but he just stood in the line like any other person, waiting to give his order, no one saying anything to him. Tilting her head, she found herself staring at him, looking him up and down. Dressed in sweats and a t-shirt he looked gorgeous and she had to look away, and found herself biting her lower lip. She just couldn’t get over how much she loved and cared for him, how she just needed him to be happy. While she had been making sure he was comforted as he was upset earlier, her own heart was in bits because he was hurting. Now seeing him smile, it was amazing how much better she felt too. She blushed harder when Taron looked her way and caught her staring at him, his face lifting in the biggest smile she had seen on his lips so far and she looked away from him and out the glass windows to the street. She would never ever forget how he had stayed by her side while she had been in hospital and she was more than determined to just give him whatever he needed while he was with her. After their lunch, she was going to suggest going back to hers, throw open the glass doors, sit on the couch, give him his favourite corner and pop a movie on. They could easily just sit and more than likely sleep for the rest of the afternoon and she was just perfectly happy with that plan. While she needed to make good use of her last few days before she was back to work, Taron needed the same rest too.

As she watched out the windows, she knew why Taron loved these seats so much. While the corner of the coffee shop didn’t look out onto the busiest part of Kilcreen, there were still many cars pulling in and out of the supermarket to the left of the coffee place, people milling about. Robyn had just been not really paying attention, too busy thinking that even though the reason for Taron’s visit wasn’t the best, she loved having him around and just being with him, hearing his laugh, seeing him smile, feeling him breathe.

While her mind had been thinking of Taron, a person walking past the windows caught her eye, made her sit up, her mind immediately forgetting about the Welshman. Even more so when the person stopped to stare at her through the glass, a smirk on their face. A smirk which she had worked so very hard to forget over the last few years.

“Keith.”

[living-d3ad-gh0ul]

Sunday 5th February 2023, 10:14am

I haven't been on here in a while. I haven't posted in a while either. But I just dreamt about the person who I come here to leave these messages for and it made me really miss them. So I decided to come here to post this.

The dream was nice. We were in a park just walking around and there was this big dog, I dont know what kind of dog. But it came over to us and kept jumping up on us and getting us covered in mucky pawprints. Neither of us cared though, we just kept laughing and giving the dog pats and letting it cover us in mud from its paws. You kept hugging me too and I told you to stop because you'd get dirt on you, but you didn't care about that either, you just wanted to hug me. That was really about it, I don't know if I've explained it well enough or if it even makes sense, but sometimes dreams don't make sense at all haha.

A lot has changed again. My old job ended on 6th January, but I had a new job secured anyway, so I wasn't as sad. It was the one I had the interview for on 4th January. They interviewed me that day and then called me not even 24 hours after to tell me I had the job. I started working there on Monday of this week and so far it's been alright. My neighbour gives me lifts to work every day and it's really good, even if its a bit of a walk from where we park to the city where the office is (because parking actually in the city is a nightmare and so fucking expensive!) Everyone I work with is super nice too, the company seem really good and not at all like any other company I've worked for before. I'm really excited to see where I can go with this job if I'm honest with you.

One of my really good friends surprised me with tickets to London Comicon in 4 weeks time too. Along with tickets to get my photo taken with my favourite actor in the whole world. They were not cheap at all and I sobbed for a good 30 minutes when they showed me the tickets. I just didn't feel like I deserved it, but they told me that I'd been working so hard and doing so well, so I definitely did. I'm still not sure if I believe them, but I'm absolutely not going to turn down meeting my favourite actor or going to spend some time in London. I'll still be going down there in August too to see Joji. I'm super excited about going to Comicon, but I'm also super nervous. What if I like.. freeze up in front of the actor? What if I say something really stupid and embarrass myself? What if I fall over my own foot? Because that's a very real possibility haha. I may end up just being really nervous and giggly and then I'll end up apologising for giggling hahaha. I've heard the actor is really really sweet in person and that they try to make everyone comfortable when they meet them. So that really does help and is reassuring. I've been super busy trying to plan all of that and book my flights to London, find accommodation etc (luckily my uncle is letting me stay with him, so that's one less thing to worry about. My best friend from Ireland is also coming too and it will be the first time me and her get to meet in person, I'm super super excited about that too)

I've been thinking about you a lot. I've been wondering how you're doing and how things are going for you. I really hope your health is alright and that you're getting better still. I still come and read your posts again every so often, just to feel close to you. I know I already said that I dreamt about you and that's what prompted this post, but I do dream about you every now and then. I like when I dream about you because it's almost as if we're visiting each other. That's something I really wish we could actually do. Even if it was only a short time together, I'd treasure it forever. I've been looking up at the moon every single night that I can too, and I've been telling her to say hello to you for me and that I miss you. Quite a bit actually.

I'm going to go now and get up out of bed. I really could do with a coffee and some fresh air, so I'm going to go make some and go sit on the deck out back with it, even if it's still winter and cold haha.

I really hope to hear from you soon, E. I really hope you're doing okay. I wish you could be sat out back with me and I could rest my head on your shoulder while we just... sit. I'm going to put some pictures of the cool bridge I walk across every day to and from work. It connects both sides of the river and it curves, it's really cool, I think you'd like it.

"I wake up in the morning or the middle of the night, I look at you and I know it's alright"

N x