#I tend to just avoid social spaces when I fall back onto that movie because people are assholes ):

[imsociallyanxiousgetoverit]

absolutely fucking bizarre thought: Eddie develops a special interest in Cars 2 when it comes out. Complete accident and boy do the others wanna rag him for it because they all (who’ve watched it) think it’s a bad movie but they know by now that teasing Eddie’s interests doesn’t end well so they dont. They think about it so much but they dont.

[theraspberryler]

Bandanna (I know, these titles are truly groundbreaking)

here’s the fic for this request right here, I was able to finish it much earlier than I thought

lee!tommy, ler!tubbo

summary: tommy had somehow managed to lose the bandanna tubbo had gifted to him, and felt absolutely awful. he tried to stay strong, but ended up breaking in front of tubbo. but it’s alright, because tubbo was able to help tommy through it! (hurt/comfort)

~this is a tickle fic! If that’s not your thing, then please move on!~

TW- self-depricating thoughts, let me know if I need to add anything

Tommy growled under his breath as he reached the bottom of the last drawer, still no bandana in sight. He roughly dragged his fingers through his messy hair, slouching down into his desk chair with a frustrated huff. He examined the state of his room, and grimaced at what he saw; drawers were left open, their contents strewn about the room, his closet door was left open, the objects messily thrown about from when he sifted through them in his panicked craze. Tommy tried to think of anywhere else it could have possibly been, but he’s already triple checked every nook and cranny of his entire room, and practically tore the place apart in the process; he couldn’t find it. 

He sighed heavily, and rested his head in his hands, and tried his best to think back to the last time he had it, but his frustration and anxiety made it hard to think about anything. A loud groan rose from the back of his throat, and he let his head fall to his desk with a thump, then he let out a pathetic sounding whine. He wasn’t even sure why he was so worked up about the stupid bandana, it was just a small piece of fabric. 

But, Tommy knew that it was so much more than that. Tubbo had gifted it to him the first time they met up, with a sheepish look on his face and a light blush, he refused to make eye contact with Tommy, thrusting the square piece of cloth into his chest. He had run his fingers over the soft, silky fabric, taking in its muted green color and the rather poorly stitched bee located on the corner of it. After some pushing, Tubbo had admitted that he indeed did stitch it himself, only making it that much more special to him. 

Tommy had light-heartedly teased Tubbo when he gave it to him, before thanking him, but he never let on just how much it meant to him. Tommy had tied it around his wrist when he got it, brandishing it with pride. However, once he arrived home, he decided to leave it in his room, in order to avoid damaging or losing it. That had certainly worked out well.

He would find himself picking it up and fiddling with it as he sat at his desk, he’d run his thumbs over the hem of the bandana as well as the stitched-on bee when he got anxious, and though he would never admit it, being way too embarrassed, he would sometimes bury his face into the soft fabric on particularly difficult nights, the small cloth somehow bringing him a sense of peace. 

Just thinking about it, Tommy found himself searching around on his desk subconsciously, only to stop once he remembered it wasn’t there. He felt his frustration build, and along with it, felt the familiar prickling behind his eyes.

“Tommy! Come on bud, we’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry!” Tommy startled, his fathers shout shaking out of his daze. He hastily wiped his eyes with his sleeve and grabbed his phone, hurrying to the front door where his dad was waiting for him. 

In his panic, he’d almost forgotten that today he was going to see Tubbo; they had been wanting to just hang out the two of them for a while, without the stress of streaming or keeping up with social media for the day. The thought of Tubbo made dread pool in his gut, he knew, logically, Tubbo wouldn’t be upset, he probably forgot about the bandana, but he still felt awful for losing something Tubbo had put so much time into. 

Tommy had zoned out the majority of the ride there, staring blankly out of the window. He startled when the car pulled to a stop, and looked up to see that they’d arrived at Tubbo’s house. He took a deep breath and pushed himself out of the car, managing a small wave and forced smile to his dad before he walked up to Tubbo’s front door. 

Tommy stood in front of the door for a moment, mentally preparing himself, all while feeling extemely stupid for being so worked up over this, before he forced himself to just knock on the door. Just seconds after, an excited, grinning Tubbo flung the door open, enthusiastically greeting Tommy before leading him back to his room. Once they arrived, Tubbo sat down at his desk chair, Tommy on his bed, like they would usually do when the two of them hung out. 

Tommy was being unusually quiet, Tubbo noticed, finding it a little odd that he was the one having to initiate the conversation, but didn’t pay it too much mind. 

“So what have you been up to Tommy? It feels like it's been forever since we’ve been able to just chat.” Tommy jumped a bit, having spaced out, before quickly trying to come up with a response that wouldn’t raise any suspicion. 

“U-um, not much, it’s just kinda been the usual. You?” Well, so much for not raising suspicion. Tommy had to admit, that was a pretty lousy attempt. In his defence, he was never very good at hiding when he was upset, tending to wear his heart on his sleeve. 

As expected, Tubbo didn’t buy it for a moment.

“You good Toms? That was a pretty lackluster response, especially for you.” And, Tommy just decided, fuck it. He was tired and upset, why bother trying to hide it from Tubbo, especially when the other could read him like an open book?

“I-I… Its stupid. But I lost that dumb bandana that you gave me a while back, and I tore my whole room apart looking for it and I can’t find it anywhere! And I know it’s stupid and pathetic but it meant a lot to me! I was careful to make sure nothing happened to it, and I have no clue what could have possibly happened! I spent pretty much all last night and this morning looking for it.” Tommy huffed again, his frustration at both the situation and at himself only growing stronger as he spoke. 

Tubbo, shocked that he actually got the usually so stubborn boy to talk to him, was silent for a moment. 

“O-oh, I- didn’t realize that it meant so much to you.” Wow, great job, Tubbo. 10/10 way to make him feel better. He had such a way with his words.

“Shut up, man. You don’t need to rub it in.” Tommy’s voice was small and pitchy, and, oh god. Tubbo panicked as he heard his breath hitch as he quickly turned away, hastily bringing his hands up to hide his face. Tubbo rushed over to the side of his bed where Tommy was sat, placing a gentle hand on Tommy’s arm, only for the younger to quickly pull it away. 

“Fuck- shit- Tommy I’m so sorry I didn’t mean it like that, I was just being stupid and couldn’t think of a response, and that’s what my brain managed to come up with. I’m sorry.” Tommy still didn’t budge, curling in on himself.

“Be-because you thought i-it was stupid.” Tommy mumbled, causing Tubbo to panic further.

“No! No, Tommy, that’s not it, I promise. I just- didn’t expect it, which isn’t your fault, it’s just because I was being dumb and don’t know how to talk to people. It’s okay, and it’s definitely not stupid to be upset over. I’m so sorry that happened, and that I made you think that I thought otherwise.” Tommy still didn’t respond, and Tubbo was growing desperate. He really wasn’t a huge fan of physical affection, and certainly not initiating it himself, but it was the only thing he could think of, and Tommy definitely deserved a hug after all this. So, Tubbo scooped the taller boyup into his arms, holding him close and gently swaying the two of them. Tommy tried to hold out, but didn’t even last five seconds before he turned towards Tubbo and slammed himself into the younger, burying his face into his shoulder and sobbing.

“I don’t understand why I’m so worked up about this, I feel so stupid! I-I’m sorry, Tubs, for blaming you like that, I know you wouldn’t judge me for something like that. I-I- I just don’t understand why I’m feeling like this.” Tubbo tightened his embrace around the other, carefully maneuvering them until they were both laying down on the bed, Tommy smushed on top of him, still clinging onto him with a trembling grib. 

“I’m so sorry, Toms, I know how upsetting it is to not understand what you’re feeling. It’s alright, you lost something that was important to you, and it’s okay that the bandana was important to you, and it’s okay to be upset over it. I know you said you looked everywhere, and I believe you, but there’s still a chance that it’ll turn up somewhere. And, I know it wouldn’t be the same, but I could easily make you another one; and I could do a much better job stitching the bee on this time.” Tubbo tried to make his tone more lighthearted towards the end, desperately trying to bring Tommy’s mood up, even just slightly. He hated seeing how upset his friend was.

After a few minutes, Tommy had largely calmed down, just the occasional sniffles and hitches in breath coming through. Tubbo tilted his head up to face him, and offered him a lopsided smile.

“Alright, Toms, you made it all the way out here, what do you wanna do? We can just chill and watch a movie or play some games if you’d like.” Tommy groaned, pushing Tubbo’s hand away from his face and smushing it back against his chest.

“I don’ know, tired.” Tommy mumbled, and Tubbo giggled at his friend's antics. Tubbo found himself mindlessly playing with the hem of Tommy’s shirt, not missing the surprised squeak his friend let out when he accidentally grazed his fingers over his side. A smirk grew on Tubbo’s face, and Tommy could feel the mischievous energy radiating from his friend without even looking at him. 

“T-Tubbo, waiHAIT-” Tommy cut himself off with a squeal as Tubbo pinched up and down his sides, before bursting into bubbly, childlike giggles. On any other day, Tommy would have put up much more of a fight to get away and hold in his laughter, but he’s already exhausted himself with the rollercoaster of emotions he went on that day. Instead, he clenched the fabric of Tubbo’s shirt sleeves in his fists and weakly squirmed around in his grip. 

Awe, Toms! You have such a sweet laugh! And you’re hardly even trying to get away, could you possibly get any cuter?!” Tubbo giddily exclaimed, moving his hands up towards his ribs. 

Tommy hiccuped between his laughter, shaking his head in protest at Tubbo’s cooing. 

“Nohohoho-*hic*-ohoh! N-Nahahat cuhuhute!” 

“No, I think you are! Such a cute giggly little thing!” Tommy would never admit to the whine that came out of him at the teasy praise, practically keening from the combination of the tickly affection and kind words. He was overwhelmed in the best possible way, and, unable to form proper words, just wrapped his arms around Tubbo and clung to him. 

Tubbo could feel his heart melting at his friend’s adorable display, unable to keep from audibly ‘awe’ing at him, only causing Tommy to whine more, and burrow even closer into his chest. 

Deciding to try his luck at a different spot, Tubbo moved his hands down to Tommy’s hips, giving them an experimental squeeze. 

And to Tubbo’s absolute delight, a loud squeal tore itself from Tommy’s throat, and he flailed his legs out wildly for a moment before going limp, seeping bonelessly into Tubbo’s embrace, loud belly laughter shaking his entire frame. Tommy babbled for a moment before giving up again on speaking, desperately holding onto Tubbo as a way to ground himself. 

Tubbo only kept it up for no more than ten seconds, and while Tommy was in absolute bliss for those ten seconds, Tubbo stopped at just the right time, Tommy gasping for air. Tubbo giggled along with his friend, ruffling his hair. 

“You good Toms?” Tubbo questioned after a bit, when Tommy still hadn’t managed to stop giggling. He just nodded in response, his eyelids suddenly feeling extremely heavy. If he was tired before, he was completely exhausted now, and Tubbo caught on to how quickly the taller seemed to be nodding off. He adjusted their position, reaching to grab his phone, before settling back down on the bed. He smiled, as he felt more than saw Tommy yawning into his chest, snuggling closer. 

“Go ahead and take a nap Toms, you deserve it.” Tommy certainly didn’t have to be told twice, feeling the lull of sleep pulling at his conscious, and was out not even a minute later. Tubbo felt a warm feeling build in his chest, as he held his friend close and turned his phone on to scroll through shitposts shared with him on Discord.

And, yeah, maybe Tommy did lose the bandana, and that sucked. But it would be alright, with Tubbo there to provide him with more comfort than the small piece of cloth ever could. 

[findmeinpops]

FindMeInPops’ 12 Days of Ficmas: Day Three - ‘You. Me. Snowman. Now.’

It’s that time of year again where I try to pump out a drabble or one-shot for each of the twelve days leading up to Christmas! I have a couple already written but some of them will be written by prompt and on request so bare with for any editing errors! Enjoy, my loves, and have a happy festive season :)

And a quick fyi for those who prefer AO3, my 2019 12 Days of Christmas collection is at this link and should be uploaded with an hour of this being posted.

Prompt: No. 32 - “You. Me. Snowman. Now.”, No. 52 - “Do you want to build a-” “Absolutely not.”

Ship(s): Sweet Pea x Female!Reader

Rating: T

CW(s): this has a slight, unintentional, dom-y tone but nothing even vaguely inappropriate

Reindeer Games: Vixen: Winter

@riverdalebingo​ : Free Space

“Hey.” Y/N prodded Sweet Pea in his sweater-clad arm. “Hey, hey, Sweet Pea.” She prodded him again but Sweet Pea continued to fane obliviousness, scrolling endlessly on his phone. 

“Sweet Peaa.” She complained dragging out his name and beginning to pull on his sweater instead, intent on getting her way. “Sweet Pea, please?”

“What?!” He suddenly bit back, his head snapping to face hers, his eyebrows drawn in an irritated scowl, mouth straight and a hardness in his eyes. Y/N shrank back slightly, her hand raised to pull at his arm again but was now slowly moving to cover her lower lip. Sweet Pea’s expression softened at the wounded look that flickered through her eyes, sorry that his stress had caused him to snap at her.

“Sorry, Princess, I’m sorry, what did you want to tell me?” Switching off his phone, he dropped it down the side of the sofa cushion before pulling her against his chest.

“It was nothing, don’t worry, I shouldn’t have interrupted your working.” She knew that he was stressed with work as of late and was now berating herself for annoying him when she knew he was already drawn tight.

It always seemed to happen as they neared the end of the year, like clockwork, throughout their three year relationship, more frown-lines would appear in his brow and black circles would form and grow larger under his eyes as they got further into December. This year though, with the heavy snowfall of the last few days and his inability to make it out of the house to work, he had seemed so much more frustrated and was nearly constantly attached to his phone. Y/N had not had the same problem, being able to work from their cozy study instead, due to her career of choice being writing, but the inability to leave was now beginning to even affect her. If Y/N was completely honest, she was going stir-crazy, she wanted nothing more than to go out and play in the snow, and she had indeed gone out yesterday for a few minutes but, after giddily making a snow angel, the novelty soon grew old and her excitement wore off as she could not enjoy the heavy snow with her favourite person.

“No, it’s fine, I’ll just pop another movie in.”

“Y/N, what did you want to tell me, it’s alright.�� Her head still pressed against his chest, he smoothed his thumb along her cheekbone, his other tracing patterns at its place on the material covering her waist.

“I-I just wanted to know if you would like a hot chocolate?” It was more of a question mumbled against his jumper but Sweet Pea’s keen ears easily picked it up. He drew himself back from their embrace so he could try and see her face but it stayed securely against his chest, hidden from view.

He sighed, pulling her onto his lap, one leg either side of him, kneeling on the sofa. Of course this was to try and get her to look at him but she kept her head down and firmly placed it against his neck.

“You’re lying.” The tone wasn’t harsh per se, but it held a confident accusation.

“Mmm.” Y/N grunted against his skin, neither confirming nor denying, but from experience, Sweet Pea had learnt that an unwillingness to reply tended to mean that he was correct.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Y/N.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Nope.”

“Yes.”

The next thing that left her mouth was not quite coherent due to the words being incredibly muffled by his skin and were probably intended to be that way to avoid Sweet Pea understanding her; the only thing that Sweet Pea was sure of was was that she hadn’t said ‘no’.

“What was that sweetheart?” He coaxed, finding her grip slightly more lenient and slowly pulled her up from her position before cupping her face in a hand so that he could see her pretty eyes.

Y/N remained silent for a count and Sweet Pea was almost ready to ask again before a small smile appeared on her face.

“Do you want to build a snowman?” She sang slightly off-key but the tune was still very much recognisable; the pair had watched Frozen a couple of times since it had come out and the film had become a fast favourite of Y/N’s.

“No, I don’t. Now, what did you want to-”

“That is what I wanted to tell you.”

“Well, I still don’t want to build a snowman.” He could only sigh when a pout appeared on her expression, suddenly wishing that her face was still hidden against his chest; she knew that her puppy-dog face always weakened his defences.

“Pleaase?”

“No, I really don’t wa-”

“Why?” She questioned, sitting back on her bum and crossing her arms across her chest. “Why don’t you want to build a snowman with me?”

“Because building a snowman is stupid and pointless.” He moved his arms to sit just on her hips whilst his hands clasped in the small of her back to anchor his arms around her, trying to stop her falling off his lap backwards.

“You think I’m stupid and pointless?”

“No, I said building a snowman is stupid and pointless, don’t twist my words.”

“It’s the first proper snowfall since we’ve been together, Pea, I want to build a snowman with you.” She subconsciously reached to brush a strand of hair that had fallen onto his forehead, smoothing it in-line with the rest.

“It’s cold.”

“Well yes...it’s snow...and December.” He gave her a pointed look.

“I don’t want to build a snowman.” His voice held the ‘this the end of the discussion’ tone but Y/N ignored it.

“Have you ever built a snowman?” She questioned further.

“Y/N.” He spoke a little sterner.

“Sweet Pea.” She mimicked the tone. He sighed.

“No I haven’t but-”

“YOU HAVE NEVER BUILT A SNOWMAN.” She jumped up from his lap, breaking through his arm-barrier, her expression one of shock and perhaps even horror.

This news should not have been much of a shock to Y/N. After all, until Sweet Pea met her, he was very much an anti-social, stay-inside outcast, unless he was meeting with the Serpents; even then, though, he only participated in the rough-housing, activities which required ‘man-power’ (as he put it) plus occasionally volunteering at the local homeless shelter. 

“No Y/N, I have never built a snowman.” He sounded defeated and that was because, after being with Y/N for three years, he knew exactly what was coming next.

“We’re going to make a snowman.” She stood firmly in front of him, arms crossed, begging him to argue with her.

“Sweetheart, I still don’t want to-”

“I don’t care. You. Me. Snowman. Now.” She ordered, marching towards the cupboard in the hallway pulling out his coat, scarf, and gloves, throwing each in turn at him, where he still sat on the sofa; one glove hit him square in the face and she had to suppress a giggle.

“Now where are your wellies?” Y/N asked as she pulled out her own coat, scarf, gloves, and wellies, before beginning to dig deeper into the cupboard.

“I don’t own any wellies.”

“Mine aren’t going to fit you.” She spoke as if he didn’t already know this.

“Of course.”

“I guess you could wear your hiking boots...but you’d have to wear some fluffy socks with them…” she thought aloud, not really paying attention as she rooted through the numerous bags in the bottom of the cupboard before pulling out a pair of well-worn hiking boots.

“I don’t own any fluffy socks.” Y/N snorted at the way he practically spat ‘fluffy socks’.

“You can borrow a pair of mine.” She was actually only half-joking, she did not want him losing his toes to frostbite.

“Yours aren’t going to fit me, Y/N.”

“They’ll be fine, you know that pair that practically come up to my knees?”

“Of course.” Sweet Pea sighed, utterly defeated, he wasn’t going to deny Y/N anything, he did not know why he bothered arguing in the first place.

***

“Alright.” Y/N clapped her hands together, the noise seeming much louder in the empty field. “First we make a snowball; you can do the head and I’ll do the body.”

Sweet Pea obliged, scooping up a large handful of snow before packing it together tightly.

“Now we just roll it.” Y/N crouched down, trying her best not to topple over and soak through her trousers - she was far too cold already, not that she would admit it to Pea.

“Just roll it?”

“Yeah, you’ll see that snow tends to stick to snow.” As she spoke, she began to push her small snowball into the almost foot-deep snow and roll it. “Watch how I’m doing it.”

Getting the general idea, Sweet Pea followed suit.

As Y/N’s snowball had continued to grow, she began to struggle to push it, it soon weighing the same as her and so, eventually, Sweet Pea’s surpassed hers - the student had become the master, as he had told her smugly.

Once they were done, Sweet Pea carefully lifted Y/N’s oversized snowball up and balanced it on top of his, holding it in place as she packed copious handfuls of snow into the neck space.

“He’s a little bumpy and uneven,” Sweet Pea looked at their snowman critically, eyeing one particularly flat side, “but I’d say he’s pretty good.”

“We haven’t finished yet!” She exclaimed in a ‘duh!’ tone. “You go rummage around the bushes for a handful of pebbles and I’ll be back in a minute!” with that, she skipped from the field, following the short path that led back to the house.

Sweet Pea wasn’t overly concerned that she would be harmed by another person as their home was out of the way and the pathway that led to the field pretty well hidden, but he was well aware of her accident-prone ways and could not help but worry that she may slip and fall on a patch of ice. Nevertheless, he followed her instructions, planning to search for her if she was not back in five minutes. He had no reason to worry, though, as she reappeared before he had finished his job, a bundle of clothing clutched happily in her arms.

They met each other at the front of the snowman. She dumped the bundle on the floor before taking a round black stone from Sweet Pea’s hands and pushing it into what would be the snowman’s face. Sweet Pea understood the idea and quickly marked out a smiling face for the snowman as Y/N wrapped a scarf around his neck and pulled a hat over his head.

“And finally,” she announced once she had finished dressing the snowman, “his nose.” She pulled a carrot from her pocket, offering it to Sweet Pea to do the honours. This was his first snowman and he should therefore have the pleasure of putting the nose on the snowman.

After the finishing touch was placed, they both took a few steps back. Sweet Pea wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her into his side as she wrapped an arm around his waist. They stood there for a few minutes, admiring the masterpiece, until snow slowly began to fall from the sky again.

Silently, Sweet Pea offered Y/N his hand, which she accepted, and then they began making their way back inside into the warmth.

“I think he should be called Dave.” She announced as they passed the row of hedges that surrounded the field.

“I love you.” He said instead of answering, squeezing her hand in his.

“I love you too.”

[marshmallow-phd]

Freedom on the Wind

Genre: Bad Boy!AU, Biker!AU

Pair: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You wanted nothing to with him. He was the kind of boy you stayed away from. But you know what they say about the rules of attraction. How could anyone resist?

Moodboard by the oh-so-wonderful @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme

**

Books were your life. If there was a story line out there, you’d read it. Ever since you were little, you devoured words like a prisoner getting his first meal after days of starvation. Any genre, any level, any author, you didn’t care. You simply loved getting lost in a world that was different from your own, even if it was only subtly altered.

While you didn’t usually care what the plot of a book was as long as it attracted and kept your attention, there was one trope that you avoided like the plague: The bad boy cliché. Of course, typically you didn’t mind clichés. 

An unbalanced couple where one was rich and the other poor? Sure. Love triangles? Your guilty pleasure. Long lost parent? You’d eat it right up.

But those stupid bad-boy-good-girl romance just grated on your nerves. Maybe it was because you were a “goody-two-shoes” (a phrase that you never quite understood) yourself. Your toes always stayed in line and breaking the rules meant you were breaking out in a cold sweat. So why would someone like you ever consider an attraction to the type of boy who wore leather jackets, gave zero consideration for other people, cursed, and rode around on a loud, obnoxious two-wheeled motorized vehicle that could get them killed?

The answer had always eluded you. A real answer, that is. Everyone always chalked it up to “there’s a bit of rebellion inside us all”.

Yeah, right.

That did not exist for you. And that was okay. So you didn’t have any fun stories to tell of when you were in high school that consisted of sneaking out, skipping class, or underage drinking. You still enjoyed your life. The moments you enjoyed experiencing were just quieter, simpler. The kind of moments that other people tended to ignore or forget.

This was one of those moments. You were just wandering through the bookstore, taking your time to shop around for anything that might possibly jump out at you. There was no rush and no need to find a specific something. You’d let the right one take hold of your attention and fall in love.

One book with a black spine and blue lettering finally did grab your eye, but when you pulled it out of it’s space, it caught on its neighbor, sending the innocent novel to the ground. Whispering an apology to no one in particular, you bent down to pick up the book, but someone else snatched it up first.

“Do you always apologize to inanimate objects?” the intruder snickered.

Clearing your throat, you swiped the book from the rude boy’s hand, holding onto it rather than placing it back onto the shelf. After a quick intake of his face, you couldn’t help but admire how cute he was. Youthful features encased sharp, deep brown eyes, highlighted by the smirking mouth.

Then you took in the rest of him. 

He might as well have walked right out of one of the romantic novels you avoided like the plague. His black hair was a bit on the short side with the top styled away from his forehead. A black leather jacket covered up a plain white tee and black jeans with matching boots finished the whole look off.

The cute face couldn’t cover up the personality you knew was flashing before your eyes.

“Might as well be nice to everything,” you shrugged, possibly putting on an air of haughtiness with it. Hopefully that would just make him walk away and leave you alone. “You never know when technology will take over the world.”

He laughed. “Technology, yes, but I doubt books are going to suddenly obtain artificial intelligence and overthrow the human race.”

Unable to find a good comeback, you put the unwanted book back on the shelf with a little too much force before brushing past him. One would think that was the end of the conversation, but no. That would be against the kind of luck you had.

“I’m Minseok, by the way,” he introduced as he followed you down the aisle.

You barely threw him a glance. “Congratulations.”

“You know, for someone who looks so nice, you have a bit of a bite to you.” By the tone in his voice, it seemed like your attitude towards him was intriguing him to keep going rather than putting him off to find a new target.

Stopping in your tracks, you whirled on him. “Maybe there’s a reason for that, hm?”

The purpose of the gesture was to appear as annoyed and irritated as you felt. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? You were not interested. You had a date with the current book in your hand at the coffee shop and you honestly would rather not be late. Not like anyone but yourself would be disappointed in that, but still.

He just laughed at you again. “Feisty. Maybe if you told me your name, I would walk away.”

“Not going to happen,” you declared. Ignoring him once again, you made your way to the register. But apparently he didn’t get the hint. He stayed right next to you like a puppy. A rottweiler puppy that was pretending to be a golden retriever.

“Hey, find anything interesting today?” Monica, the employee who was usually behind the counter, smiled at you. Since you came in so often, most of the people who worked here knew you. Or at least, they recognized your face. Monica was one of the few you knew very well, often participating in a little small talk about new releases and up-and-coming authors that piqued your interest.

“Just this,” you replied, handing over the book.

She read the cover, smiling. “Nice choice.”

Minseok leaned an elbow against the counter, still trying to keep your attention. “So, how about dinner?”

“No, thank you,” you said immediately. Without looking at him, you took out your card and handed it over to Monica.

She swiped it quickly before bagging up the book and handed you your card back along with your prize, the receipt already tucked in between the pages of the book.

“Thanks, (y/n)!” Monica waved innocently. “See ya soon.”

You cringed. “See you later, Monica.”

Minseok looked like he’d just won the lottery as he kept up with your scurried escape.“Ah, (y/n). That’s a pretty name.”

“No, it’s not,” you scoffed, stopping mid stride. Minseok nearly collided with you, but he managed to dodge the hit. You folded your arms across your chest, staring him down. “That’s just something you say to girls to butter them up. You start by complimenting their name. And then next it’s their eyes. You say something deep and mysterious, comparing them to the sea or stars or some other crap you picked up from the movies. And then once you finally get what you want, you drop them for the next unsuspecting girl.”

“Bold of you to presume you know me.” His eyes were narrowed at you, ready for the battle to begin. But you weren’t interested in any type of lingering fight.

Done with the conversation, you stormed off to your car. From a few feet away, Minseok called out for you after swinging a leg over on his black motorcycle.

“Hey, (y/n)!”

Suppressing a groan, you paused just before you could open your car door, making eye contact with him.

“If I’d asked you out in a three piece suit or a polo, would you have said yes?”

When you didn’t answer him, he slid the helmet in his hands over his head and zoomed off. Hopefully that was the last you’d see of him.

**

You really should be more conscious of the look you had on your face at the moment. The bartender kept sneaking glances out of the corner of his eye in your direction as you twirled the straw of your third fruity house special and you were sure that your expression was one of disgust and irritation, the direct opposite of the other patrons around you. 

To be fair, you’d let Sam and Jamie talk you into going out tonight. You weren’t the “get drunk and dance like a fool in public” kind of girl. Social butterfly was not a term one would find in your “about me” section of social media.

Sure, you’d go out to drink every once in a while, but you preferred the more mellow hang outs - like breweries - over the nightclub you were currently forced to occupy. You might not have been so crabby if Jamie hadn’t made you leave your purse in the car, which had your new book tucked away inside. Of course, she knew it was in there and that was why she made you leave your big bulky bag behind.

Sam downed another shot right as the DJ blasted the latest dance hit through the speakers. Your best friends got those overly excited looks on their faces and tried to convince you to come out with them on the dance floor.

“No, absolutely not,” you yelled over the music. “I don’t even get what a ‘nae-nae’ is!”

“Fine, have it your way, party-pooper!” Jamie yelled back. When she starts using childish terms like “party-pooper”, that was when you knew she needed to slow down on the drinking. The two of them stay on the outskirts of the dance floor, throwing flashy smiles at you to try and get you jealous of all the “fun” they’re having.

You took a few more sips of your drink, longing for your book. That itching feeling of needing to know what came next never left you alone. Sam had the keys to your car and wouldn’t cough them over unless you had a good reason to go out there. Even though you thought finishing the current chapter of your book was a more than fair reason to go to the car, the others wouldn’t agree. Maybe you did have a problem?

A new body quickly inhabited the stool that Sam had vacated just a minute before, pulling you from your self analysis.

You nearly groaned once you recognized the newcomer. Minseok motioned to the bartender and got a bottled beer in less than a minute.

“You don’t seem like the type of girl who hangs out in these places,” he purred. It was so much like a cat, matching his sharp eyes that you roll your own in response.

You swiveled the stool so your elbows were resting on the bar. “Was that pickup line supposed to impress me? Or maybe you were putting too much hope on the fact that I might have had too much to drink and wouldn’t recognize you?”

“I was just making an observation,” he smiled, if you could count pulling up one corner of his lip as smiling. “You know, since you liked to make assumptions about people, I thought I would give it a shot.”

You slowly pushed the stool back around, completing the three-sixty turn and catching Jamie’s eye on the way.

He’s hot, she mouthed.

No, you mouthed back, shaking your head just the tiniest fraction.

She rolled her eyes and kept dancing.

“I’m not a crowd person,” you admitted as you took a sip of your drink. Part of you wanted to just go back to ignoring him, but he seemed to be the only other sober person around, minus the staff, and it beat just sitting there and wishing that you could be off in another world instead. “When I’m forced to come to these places, I tend to put the wall up, just in case some creep decides to try his luck with me. Not that I ever really get hit on. That’s usually left to my friends.”

Minseok shook his head, sliding his finger down the neck of the bottle. “That’s a shame.”

You scrunched your eyebrows. “What is?”

“People these days are too lost in what looks nice from far away that they won’t take the time to look closer at something less obvious and discover its beauty,” Minseok briefly glimpsed at you, taking in your confused facial expression. “Like a painting.”

Unless you misinterpreted him, he’d just compared you to art. No one had ever said anything similar to that directed at you before. “Potential” was the word you usually were stuck with.

Trying to focus on not blushing while searching to find a coherent sentence to respond with as the bartender approached, you downed the rest of your drink instead of replying. Why couldn’t Minseok stay the typical, one-dimensional bad boy? Why did he have to slowly turn into the deep, misunderstood type? That just might a bad road for you journey down.   

“You want another one?”the bartender asked, motioning to your empty glass.

“Actually, I’ll take the cherry bomb.” Ever since they added a cherry coke and whipped cream vodka drink to their menu, you’d been addicted, even if it wasn’t exactly a cheap drink. To save your wallet, you’d limited yourself to one per night. Right now, though, you were tempted to order several back to back to clear out the thoughts that were starting to form. 

Once the clean glass filled with reddish brown liquid was in front of you, you turned back to Minseok. “So, are you expecting to try and have another shot with me?”

“No, I think I’ve learned my lesson when it comes to you. I still remember the zinger you sent my way in the parking lot.”

You quoted, “‘Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it’.”

“Santayana knew what he was talking about.”

You laughed in shock. How could he actually know the originator of that widely known quote? It was a line everyone knew but usually they couldn't put a name to it.

At Minseok’s questioning look, you explained, “It’s rare to find someone who knows that name. All of my friends recognize the quote, but none of them can recall who said it. They mostly think it’s from a movie.”

Minseok finished off his beer, “Too lazy to look it up?”

“Just lacking motivation,” you corrected after taking a huge gulp of your drink, careful not to dribble some of it on your chin. “They’re okay with going through life without answers to certain things.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you?”

You snorted. “I need an answer for everything. I like knowing why something works the way it does or why certain things happen.”

It was a control thing, you knew that. But you didn’t fight it. It was simply something you did to make your surroundings more comfortable for you and it kept you sane. From your point of view, at least. 

“But not everything has an answer,” he retorted. “Some things just are.”

“That’s what makes the adventure,” you whispered somewhat flirtatiously. 

Adventure? Yeah, right. Your idea of an adventure was trying out a new restaurant. You were too timid and afraid to do anything truly daring. You were so boring. And it’d never bothered you like it did in this very moment. 

Seeing right through you, Minseok challenged, “I don’t think you know what a real adventure is.”

Suddenly, a beer bottle came sliding down the counter, knocking your glass over when the drinks collided. The sticky pop and liquor spilled all over your lap. Well, at least your pants were black.

“Fuck, sorry!” One of the drunks at the other end of the bar cried out.

“Hey!” The bartender yelled. “Cut that shit out!”

“There are paper towels in the bathroom,” Minseok said as he cleaned up the ice, putting the cubes back into the glass. The bartender tried to hand over an old, dirty looking rag, but Minseok rejected the offer.

You cringed. “I’m not going in there. Have you seen the bathrooms? They’re disgusting. I have some napkins in my car.” You hopped off the stool, the bottom of your nice boots getting soaked in the liquid that had managed to drip onto the floor. You tabbed out with the bartender before he headed to the other end of the bar.

“I’ll go with you,” Minseok offered. “You probably shouldn’t go out there alone around this time.”

You nodded, surprised. So chivalry wasn’t dead.

To get the keys from Sam, you went onto the dance floor and explained what happened, emphasizing that you’d be right back. She offered to go with you, but you told her you’d be okay and that you already had a bodyguard to watch out for you.

She looked over your shoulder at Minseok and shot you a questioning look. You walked off before the look could be followed by a bombardment of questions.

Once out at the car, you unlocked it and slid into the passenger seat, keeping your feet out on the asphalt. You pulled out a handful of napkins from the glove box and start dabbing at your shirt and pants.

“At least I didn’t wear white,” you grumbled to yourself.

“Might have been an interest pattern if it stained, though,” Minseok teased. “Could have started a new trend. Alcohol stained clothes. Could have named it ‘The Morning After’.”

“Darn, I could have had a trending brand on my hands,” you groaned sarcastically. Gathering up the used napkins, you stood up, closed the door, and locked the car back up. You walked over to the nearest trash can and tossed the cold, disintegrating napkins away. Leaning against the wall of the club, you sighed, “Man, that breeze feels good. Too many bodies in a small area, it never fails to make me sweat profusely.”

Minseok nodded. “We can wait a few minutes before going back inside if you would like.” He seemed perfectly fine, even in the ever-present leather jacket. 

“Thank you,” you said sincerely. Pursing your lips, you played with the hem of your shirt. “Also for making sure I don’t get kidnapped. Unless, you being nice to me like this was all a part of an elaborate plan to kidnap me.”

“Still trying to label me as the bad guy, huh?” While there was a little shine left in his eye, most of the teasing was gone from his tone.

“You don’t exactly do yourself any favors,” you argued. “Leather jackets and that attitude will lead to those assumptions.”

“So far, the only one who has had an attitude is you,” he countered.

Well, shit. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Ever since he’d first spoken to you, you’d tried to push him away, make him walk in the opposite direction. Very different from the usual soft person you tried to be. You’d written him off as the stereotypical bad boy and just wanted him to leave you be. But your prickly attitude didn’t faze him at all. He didn’t scoff, throw his hands in the air and storm off like you’d expected. And you were finding yourself less and less eager to put up the annoyed front. 

Grabbing your hand, Minseok dragged you away from the club and deeper into the parking lot, not stopping until he was next to his bike. Apparently, the car next the bike was familiar to him as well as he unlocked the door and pulled out an open-faced helmet. In one smooth motion, he swung his leg over the beast.

“Do you normally have two modes of transportation?” you questioned.

He threw you a look. “It’s my sister’s car. She’s here with her boyfriend. That’s the only reason I came. Unless you thought I was stalking you?”

You didn’t dignify that comment with a response.

Minseok held the helmet out to you. “Get on.”

You scoffed. “No way.”

“Weren’t you the one talking about adventure earlier?” he reminded you.

“That’s different,” you argued weakly. “This thing is a death trap.”

“You sound like my mom.”

Right now would have been the opportune time to turn around and go back inside. By the time he got off the bike, you could be back at the door. That would have been the smart thing to do, the good girl thing to do. Motorcycles were dangerous. They were easily hit by cars that weren’t paying attention. You could be crushed, get road rash, or die in any other painful way if he was to lose control of the bike. There was no box that protected you from the elements, either.

“Don’t you want to know what it’s like to fly?” Minseok asked.

Damn it. That one stupid question was just enough to start tipping you over the edge.

“Then again, you could always live safely on the ground.”

Snatching the helmet out of his mocking hand, you squashed it down on your head before buckling the strap. Not quite as gracefully as Minseok, you hopped onto the back of the bike, almost losing your balance in the process. This had to be the stupidest thing you’d ever done. Maybe it was the alcohol giving you that extra push, taking away your inhibitions and usual way of making smart choices.

The engine roared to life. Slowly, Minseok backed out of the parking space with his feet. Once he was out in the open, he took off.

Everything blurred by you as the wind bit at your face. You clung to Minseok for dear life, arms viced around his torso while squeezing your eyes shut. He laughed at your iron grip but you weren’t loosening it any time soon. The truly surprising part was - despite the fear pumping through your veins at the moment - you were actually enjoying thrill of it all.

After the first few minutes of seeing your life flash before your eyelids, you were able to calm down and open them up to truly experience the ride. 

Minseok was an expert, carefully changing lanes and checking his surroundings for any possible danger. Eventually, you were able to rest your chin on his shoulder, taking in the feeling. Your arms weren’t as tense. Instead, they hung a little looser, fingers still clasped together, but allowing the blood to flow freely. You didn’t think it was exactly how flying would be, but it did make a nice parallel.

Too soon for your liking, Minseok pulled back into the parking space in front of the club. As soon as the engine was off, you got off the bike and handed him the helmet back.

“That was probably the most reckless thing you’ve ever done in your life,” Minseok guessed. No need to verify that fact beyond the shy smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

“Hey, baby girl!”

A small group of drunks came stumbling in your direction. Sensing trouble, Minseok got off the bike and placed himself between you and the unstable men.

“Just keep walking,” he warned.

“Sweetheart, why don’t I take you for a real ride?” one of them snickered.

Your stomach nearly pushed your drinks back up from his innuendo.

“Shut your mouth!” Minseok yelled. His fists were curled tight by his sides.

Fearing that this could turn bad, you place a hand on his shoulder. “Minseok, just leave it alone. They’re drunk. Let’s go back inside.”

“What you are going to do about it, punk?” one of the others spat.

“Maybe we need to show this lady what a real man is,” the last one laughed.

The first one leered at you, pretending as if Minseok didn’t exist at all. “I bet she’d look really pretty on my-”

Wherever his disgusting thought was going, it was quickly derailed by a punch from Minseok. The drunk’s friends were quick to join in, but since he was sober, Minseok had the advantage. That didn’t stop him from taking a few hits, though.

“Minseok!”

A girl with similar features to the leather clad idiot in front of you came running out of the club with another guy behind her as well as the bouncer.

The additional males were able to break up the fight and the drunks scrambled off before they could get into worse trouble.

“Why are you always getting into fights!” the girl yelled. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was Minseok’s sister.

“Those assholes were saying-”

“I don’t care what they were saying!” she snapped. “You swore you would stop fighting!”

Not wanting to stick around for the family affair, you quickly walked around Minseok, keeping your head down and trying not to be noticed as you wrapped your arms around yourself. You should have known that was going to happen. You should have known that this was all too good to be true. In the end, he was still the delinquent, the bad boy with a temper. And you were not going to stick around and continue to be disappointed. 

“(y/n), wait!” Minseok caught you on the arm right as you reached your car. He turned around, looking at you desperately. A cut a few centimeters wide above his left eye was oozing blood and his lip was busted open. Evidence of exactly what kind of guy you were dealing with. “Don’t go,” he begged, pleaded with you.

“Thank you for the ride,” you said straightly, monotonously, making sure that he could take in exactly where you stood. You didn’t even meet his eye, keeping your gaze down on the black asphalt. “But let me go.”

“No, talk to me,” he insisted through clenched teeth. “I thought I was finally getting through to you.”

You yanked your arm out of his grip. Finally meeting his eyes, you let loose. “Look, Minseok. I don’t know exactly what you were aiming for, but it’s never going to happen. I don’t go out with guys like you that throw punches and ride motorcycles and stomp around like they’re the toughest thing to walk this earth. I like nice guys. Good guys. They don’t go around sporting bruises and blood.”

His shoulders slumped. Defeat was emerging all over his face, but he decided to give it one more try. “Maybe I could be the nice guy.”

You shook your head. “Why are you trying so hard? You don’t know me.”

His eyes held your as he declared, “I know you more than you think I do.”

Not wanting to stick around and risk hearing anything else that might tempt you to forget what just happened, you threw the door open to your car and jumped into the driver’s seat. Sam and Jamie would just have to find their own way home. They could be mad at you later.

Throwing the car into reverse, you sped out of the parking lot as fast as you could while trying not to glance back at the man standing in the parking lot, staring after you.

**

You kept telling yourself that you made the right decision. Minseok was not the kind of guy that you could take to your parents and say “this is the guy I’m dating” and not expect disastrous results. And he wasn’t the kind of guy you wanted anyway.

So, why did you find yourself spending too much time at the bookstore, hoping to see him again? Or walking by the bar on a busy Friday night, hoping to spot that shiny black motorcycle in the parking lot?

Frustrated to no end, you threw your book down on the floor with a yell. You’d gone completely crazy. There you were on the couch, dressed in a comfortable sweater and leggings, trying to read a book centered around a leather-clad bad boy and a well-rounded good girl. The point of the exercise was to prove to yourself that you were right - that you’d made the best decision - but all you could think about was leaning into Minseok’s back as he guided the bike down the darkened streets, the wind leaving behind kisses on your face as the two of you raced away, leaving behind reality for just a little while, believing that man could fly.

It’d only happened once and yet you found yourself missing the way Minseok’s muscles tightened under your touch. You actually missed the smell of his jacket and the way his eyes laughed at you and your timid way of approaching life.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

What was that?

At first, you decided to ignore the sound, thinking that maybe it was just a squirrel passing by or a bird not realizing they would never get through the clear glass. Although, usually at this time of night all the little creatures had already settled down.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Unable to block it out anymore, you stood up and went to the sliding glass door that led out onto the balcony of your apartment. It definitely wasn’t a squirrel.

Parked out in the street under your balcony was Minseok, leaning up against his bike as he fiddled with a rock in his hand.

“About time you came out here,” he smirked up at you.

You crossed your arms, keeping on the air that you weren’t the least bit elated that he’d somehow found you.

“What are you doing here?” you demanded. That in itself was a reasonable question.

He shrugged. “Your friends weren’t too happy that you’d ditched them. They were more than willing to tell me where you lived. Especially after talking to my sister.”

Traitors.

As much as you’d wanted to see Minseok again, part of you still stood by what you’d said. There was no way the two of you could work out. And you didn’t want your heart to get broken.

Minseok waved his hand, “Come down here.”

“Go away,” you growled. For your own sake, you’d hoped that he’d listen. But of course he wouldn’t.

“No,” he stated. “Not until you talk to me. Otherwise, I’m staying right here.”

Rolling your eyes, you went back inside and shut the door. For a moment, you were tempted to just stay there in your living room, but you knew he’d make good on his threat.

After shoving your feet into a pair of sneakers, you headed down to the street below. Once in front of him, you threw your arms up. “Okay, I’m here.”

Minseok actually had the nerve to scoff. “That was much easier than I thought it would be.”

“What do you want?” you snapped.

“For you to listen,” he replied. When you didn’t open your mouth again, he went on, “Look. I’m sorry about the other night. You’re right, I shouldn't have started that fight. Even if I believe that asshole deserved it. But I can be the nice guy, too. I think I’ve already proven that to you. If not, then come with me. I can show you how much of the nice guy I can be.”

His offer was so tempting, like the shiny, blood red apple the witch had offered to Snow White. Because he was right. He’d shown you moments of chivalry and vulnerability that you hadn’t expected. But what would happen to you if you took a bite?

“That night,” you whispered, “you said that you knew me better than I thought. What did you mean by that?”

Minseok cleared his throat. “That was a bit of an exaggeration. It’s just….” he cursed. “This is going to sound really creepy and stalkerish, but hear me out.” Obviously nervous, he ran his fingers through his hair before shoving his hands in his pockets. “You see, my sister works at the coffee shop you go to all the time and I visit her a lot. And I’d see you. I thought you were cute, but then-” Again, he cursed under his breath.

“Then what?” you urged. You were sitting on the edge of your metaphorical seat. This sounded an awful lot like the beginning of a love confession. While love was a bit extreme to be feeling in this exact moment, this definitely felt like the start of something life changing.

“Then I’d watch you read and your face was like a mirror, reflecting the emotions of the book. And it was fascinating. And you were also so sweet to everyone, even that little girl who came up to talk to you randomly… Shit!” Minseok turn and kicked the tire of his bike. “Damn it, this sounds so stupid. I can’t believe I’m actually saying this.”

You tried really hard not to smile. It was a complete failure. “So, what you’re saying is that you developed a crush on me while visiting your sister at work?”

Refusing to look at you, he gave the smallest nod in existence. How could someone so tough do something so cute?

Before you could stop yourself, you stepped up to him and planted a quick kiss on his lips. At least, that was the plan.

As soon as your lips connected with his, Minseok’s bravado shot right back up to it’s normal inflated state. He wrapped his arms around your waist, giving you no escape as he deepened the kiss. And you certainly weren’t protesting.

The kiss was soft and warm despite the cool temperature outside. One of Minseok’s hands left your back and came up to cradle your jaw. Too soon, he pulled away.

“Come fly with me again,” he whispered.

Unable to speak, you simply nodded.

Pulling away, Minseok turned around and handed you a brand new, full-face helmet.

“Is this mine?” you asked skeptically.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt.”

You scoffed, shoving the helmet back into his hands. “Well, if I’m so predictable, why even bother with me? Wouldn’t that be boring?”

“I don’t think you could ever be boring,” he said sincerely. With confidence, he held the protective gear out for you once more and you took it with no resistance.

Just like that night at the bar, you carelessly jumped on the back of the bike, snaking your arms around Minseok’s torso, although this time around your grip wasn’t as death-fearing. Minseok roared the engine under you and your heart sped up with anticipation.

Bad boys, you realized, weren’t just bound in leather and dangerous. They could be soft and cute and protective. Perhaps all of that was why good girls so often fell for them. They could be unpredictable and at times scary, but in the end the hidden gem underneath made it all worth it. It was a chance that you would be willing to take, knowing that you would never be able to get this boy out of your head. If he broke your heart, so be it. Maybe they were made to be broken.

Minseok gave you one last wink over his shoulder before he took off down the road and back onto the wind of freedom.

[hcrris]

can ….. i come in ????? have been watching unbreakable kimmy schmidt for 3 hours pretending time isnt passing , life isnt real and in fact.. i am dreaming (-: lajdfksl hey <3 im jay im 21 and i love those instagram profiles of hamsters in little clothes ( when they got little purses? ???? dont talk to me im cryin. ) below u will find info about jane harris aka literally the vine of the little kid scribbling hard like his life depended on it. shes a mess ?? but a semi enjoyable mess. a mess with good intentions. if u want to establish some connections, LIKE THIS and i will come annoy u <3 alternatively u can ease my social anxiety and msg me here or through my discord sencha tea#4035 (و ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و♡

( lily collins, cis female, she/her. ) — jane harris has been a medina complex resident for three years, now. they’re twenty-three years old, and they tend to avoid making eye contact. sometimes when i walk by B06, i hear cherry-coloured funk by cocteau twins playing. lately, i’d say they’re pretty effervescent, but sometimes that’s overwhelmed by the fact that they’re neurotic. i mean, they usually pay their rent on time, though, and that’s most important fact here.

repeatedly fixing the apartment number on the door when it swings down to a nine, a split moment of shadow after the radiance of laughter, carl sagan’s pale blue dot, a life of frequent minor accidents, constant hunger for balance overshadowed by emotional turbulence.

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TW ALCOHOLISM EMOTIONAL ABUSE DEPRESSION & ANXIETY !!!!! ok moving on

her parents met in art school in paris.. her mom is french and studied art history while her dad was an exchange student from california with a skewed artist mentality. it was that saccharine, toxic sort of love. her mom always felt like she needed to be the guardian angel in the relationship who would always hold him up when he was feeling down and he was feeling down….. a lot. because she was putting all that energy to save her relationship, she was drowning too but never enough to walk away. there was a lot of love there but it was twisted and uncomfortable at times

when they found out jane was on the way, it felt like they needed to suddenly grow up. her mom was ready to make changes, adapt to the new lifestyle. her dad, on the other hand, urged they rethink if this is what they want but he didn’t push for abortion.. he understood it was jane’s mothers choice to make and reassured that he would be there for the both of them no. matter. what. 

but ??? the reality was he felt trapped by the idea of a child and he struggled to acknowledge and accept how quickly his life was flipping upside down and how he lost all control of it. he wanted to travel around europe ???? soak in nature, daydream and make art . but jane’s mom wanted to settle. instead of embarking on adventures after graduating, they decided to move to california. 

things just seemed to fall apart like domino from then on. janes mom was lead astray.. thinking that what california would bring them was stability but instead, it was all chaos. they rushed to get married .. turned out janes father wasnt on good terms with his parents. he was irresponsible financially, put both his parents in huge debt, was blinded by his ego to ever realise his mistakes. lied constantly .. convincing janes mom that there’s light going forward. that once he finds a sponsor for his art .... once he sells his first piece ... once they see in him what he always saw in himself , he was going to make it right. and he reassured he would make it right for jane.

janes mom was so pathetically in love that she pushed through .. living in a sort of imagined world, believing that things were better than they actually were. and her dad was good at persuading that narrative. he would come home with a pocketful of cash and the bills paid. oftentimes, it was all an act. his art wasn’t selling and a lot of what he bragged about was borrowed or stolen. behind the curtain, he was absent and unmotivated. he would come home in the evening claiming that the whisky breath was celebratory but in reality, he was complaining to the barman two blocks away about how his life feels monotone .. like a french black and white movie.  

the day of jane’s birth was a whole mess. her father decided to drive her mother to the hospital, knowing he had one too many. they were caught for speeding and while janes dad spent the night at a nearby station for driving under influence, her mom was at the back of a cop car, crying for one too many reasons .. jane decided to hang on for a little while longer and was born at 3am the following night. cradled in her mothers arms and her dads voice humming on the line

jane would only ever hear the romanticised version of this story from her mother. this ??? fucked up sense of security that no matter what, love conquers all. that love means supporting each other, loving each other extra when everything else falls apart. but truth is.. her mother was forced to give up her own dreams, lost all connections to her past, worked days and nights at a nursing home to support her family and pitch in to her husbands alcoholism while she’s at it. making excuses that jane was too young to contradict. all while the only source of happiness for her father was the haziness of his evenings, when he felt like floating and he could barely hold onto to his paintbrush. he was a stranger living in their basement .. more than he was ever a father 

growing up, jane watched her mother mask her depression. carry empty bottles out from the basement, trying to hide it from jane .. it brought her shame. she was doing the same thing to jane that he was doing to her for all these years .. consistently expressing a certain attitude, this unwavering satisfaction for the life they are living and so ... it hardens. you start to believe it. except unlike her mother, jane was observant.. she had other lives around her to compare to her own, voices of reason that pierced through the skewed perception her mother drilled into her skull. when jane grew into her skin, she felt so ... disgusted and angry. she tried to pull her mother out of her fantasy but nothing worked. 

through her high school years, she felt helpless .. her home life was a nightmare and she made every possible attempt to stay out of it for as long as possible. she took on jobs and extracurriculars .. stayed at her friends’ house until she couldn’t. and she would think.. think so hard, she would start crying. pushing her own problems away .. in her head, she would imagine herself in a different skin, a different place. it was the only way she could calm her breathing. only to have to battle the same thoughts the following morning

after graduating high school, jane went to community college for product management got a job offering after her placement at a big company and moved out shortly after ( and MOVED IN to medina... can i get a yee yee ) .. she got insurance for the first time in her life and eats too many of free pizza slices at work to save up on groceries every week <3

she doesn’t visit her parents bc she no longer feels like her mother is on her team. she’s lived a maddening and terribly draining life and living alone has brought her deserving peace.. although she’d rather keep contact with her mother to a minimum, its obvious that jane is her mothers anchor. if she feels as though her daughter is not fighting for her, she breaks down.. as much as jane wants to run away from her past, it always seems to catch up 

if ur still reading literally who are u lafjdkl. ill be done schoon ..... oof 

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if they are friends ... jane. will. talk. ur. ear. off. but probably not for the right reasons lol .. she has never been assessed by a professional, isn’t taking any treatment but she definitely needs it :( shes a chronic overthinker.. the voice in her head keeps chattering away most of the time which gets a little nauseating. she hates silence and feels like she needs to fill it with words. she often says the wrong things .. to the wrong people ... at the WRONG time and she is very aware of it. its the culprit for her self doubt and struggle to open up emotionally to the people shes close to. shes very critical towards herself, she micro analyses everything from the way she acts, the way she looks and what she says. shes also not a fan of confrontation !!!!!!!BUT!!!!!!!!!!!

 she is a FIREBALL when she stands up for others. i dont know how she hasnt gotten into a physical fight yet. she would literally rip ur side mirror off ur car if u didnt wait for an old lady to cross the street. is intense in every possible way. if shes angry, shes angry and impulsive and out of control, when she is in love, she feels it in her bones and simultaneously wants to rip her hair out, when she’s passionate about something, she is persistent until she isn’t and when she loses motivation, everything feels bleak .. theres never any emotional balance, even though she fights so hard for it every day 

likes sci fi movies .. literally when they are Floating in space ???? SIGN! JANE! THE! FUCK! UP! letterboxd is probably her favorite app. sometimes she will post a review, read it over and over, find something wrong with what she said and then delete it. shes very neurotic. she either has good days where she can comfortably be herself or bad days, when it feels like everyone is judging her every move when in reality. ... it is always .. all in her head. 

and she is mostly in her head. she creates fantasies of her life, relationships platonic and romantic and as a result, nothing ever seems to measure up. she feels secure in her fantasies but oftentimes when it hits her that they are just that, fantasies, she ... feels really alone. 

will trip over her own feet . has like 5 bruises from washing the dishes </3

she works as a part of a product design team in a big company.. probably has the knowledge to move up the tier but does not have the courage to stand up for herself . she doesnt believe in herself and is kind of a pessimist .......  

got high one night and decided she wants to start an uber ....... only for women. but doesnt think its a good ide a (its a good idea. id like to think in 10 years time ... bitch made it) 

really weird. likes eating broad beans and frozen strawberries .. will literally eat a lemon. 

she will have different interests every week but never seems to be any good at anything ???????????? makes her sad. 

claims tidying up with marie kondo changed her life LAKJDSKLDJ

*draws curtains* anybody else tired? 

[no-birdstofly]

"Wait, my hero’s secret identity is… you? To be honest, I’d always kind of hoped…" for either jonjontommy or ronanjon, author's choice.

When Jon calls (literally calls, like on the phone) Lovett to come across the street and kill a spider for him, the last thing he expects is to get bitten by it. The rest of it, Leo sniffing around inquisitively, Jon standing on a chair as far away as possible and cowering, that he all saw coming, but what the hell, he’s never been bitten by a spider in his life. He’d planned to capture it and take it outside, do the right thing or whatever, but fuck that. He squashes it ruthlessly and accepts Jon’s exaltation of his bravery, even letting Jon clean and bandage his war wound.

“This doesn’t look good,” Jon says, snapping a photo before he plasters no fewer than three band-aids over the bite.

He must forward it to Tommy, because Lovett gets a text later that night that reads, If that starts to swell you need to go to the doctor. Don’t want this to be like when you almost lost a leg all over again.

Ha ha, Lovett sends back, trusting the spacing to convey his sarcasm.

You could’ve lived without the leg, but I don’t see you doing well without your right hand. Tommy sends it fast enough that Lovett knows he’s been planning on making that joke the entire time.

But Tommy, he replies, that’s what YOUR hand is for. He tacks on a winky face, even though he hates emojis on principle. It’s worth it for how red he can imagine Tommy’s face turns while reading the message.

The bite doesn’t get bigger at all. Rather, it heals remarkably fast, and it’s just a pinprick the next day.

“Huh,” Jon says, turning Lovett’s hand this way and that like it holds the world’s most boring magic eye picture instead of a tiny, insignificant mark. “I thought it was way worse yesterday.”

Lovett shrugs. “Who can blame you, you were busy being terrified of a tiny–”

“It was not tiny,” Jon says hotly.

“What wasn’t tiny?” Tommy asks, strolling into the office with Lucca.

“The spider I gallantly killed for Jon.”

“That’s not surprising,” Tommy says. “We used to get these giant centipedes in Chicago. One time one was on top of the shower drain, and Jon didn’t realize and reached down–”

“Okay!” Jon says brightly, despite the fact that Lovett saw his entire body shudder two seconds ago. “I’m getting coffee. Both of you shut the fuck up by the time I’m back.”

He leaves before either of them can place their own orders, because they’re both busy laughing at his expense.

Tommy’s concerned over how fast the bite has healed, and he presses Lovett to tell him if anything “weird” happens.

“Weird?”

“Just–seriously, anything,” Tommy says, squeezing Lovett’s shoulder and looking ridiculously imploring.

That night, when Lovett idly tosses a tennis ball for Pundit and it sails some five houses away followed by the sound of glass shattering, he calls Tommy.

“I was afraid this would happen,” Tommy says.

“What the fuck? What if they know I did it? Should I go over and tell them? How would I explain it, though? ‘Hi, sorry, apparently I can actually throw all of the sudden and broke your window.’ Thank god I never did that breed test kit so Pundit’s not in the system. Do cops test for dog DNA?”

“Why would you do a test for what breed she is? You got her from a breeder.”

“Yeah, but who knows! I don’t want to be depriving her of, like, her innate herding instincts.”

Tommy’s quiet for a long moment, and Lovett knows he’s trying to avoid saying something about how lazy his dog is. He appreciates it, even if it makes him want to defend her anyway. He thinks back over what Tommy said.

“Wait, why were you afraid of this happening? What do you know?” he demands.

Tommy sighs. “Can you do me a favor? Try to pick up something really heavy.”

Lovett grumbles but goes into his bedroom and tries to lift his bed dutifully. It comes right off the floor, so fast it knocks into the wall, leaving a dent and nearly breaking one of the windows. He really needs to not be around glass right now. He gives Tommy the news, and Tommy says he’s on his way.  

Lovett’s in the middle of rearranging his living room when Tommy arrives. “This is great! I’ve been wanting to move the couch forever but I could never do it alone before.”

“Why didn’t you ask me or Jon to help you?”

“Pride,” Lovett says simply, and Tommy accepts that for the answer it is. Lovett flops onto his much better positioned couch and says, “Start talking.”

Tommy tells him all about the enhanced individuals–“Just say ‘superheroes,’ Tommy, come on.”–he dealt with when he still worked for the NSC. Apparently they’re very real, and the government is tracking quite a few of them, and a few villains, too.

“Nothing, like, crazy,” he adds. “No one’s Wonder Woman or really powerful, in my experience, but yeah, they’re out there.”

“If you tell me that there’s a kid in Queens who also got bit by a spider…” Lovett warns.

“As far as I know, there’s no Spider-man, either. You probably only have one power, anyway,” Tommy says, like it’s no big deal. “Just heightened strength.”

Lovett can’t help the smug grin that spreads across his face. “Hey. Hey, Tommy. Wanna arm wrestle real quick?”

“No, Lovett, I do not,” Tommy says with a scowl.

“Seriously, though, you think that’s it?”

“Have you tried anything else?”

They go outside so Lovett can see if he’s suddenly able to leap tall buildings in a single bound or whatever. He can’t. He makes it a few inches off the ground and lands on one of Pundit’s toys, twisting his ankle in the process and nearly face planting in the grass.

“See?” Tommy chokes out through his laughter.

Lovett has to wrap his ankle the next couple days, so advanced healing is out, too. He is a little more agile, though, his reflexes a little quicker. It’s not crazy, comic book style, but it’s something. When Jon knocks over his water while gesturing wildly during recording, Lovett’s able to catch it before any spills. Jon looks surprised, but grateful.

He has more stamina, too, he realizes after his ankle is better. He accidentally doubles his morning run when he doesn’t get tired after the first mile, meaning he has to carry Pundit for three-quarters of it. It also means his legs feel like they’re going to fall off for the next three days.

Tommy talks to his contacts in Washington and gets Lovett all registered, and Lovett tries really hard to not freak himself out thinking about the Civil War run of Marvel.

“Also, just so you know, they tend to be pretty lax about vigilantism, as long as you don’t take it too far,” Tommy tells him. “The guy who turned in your forms says he has a costume hookup if you’re interested.”

“A costume? Why would I–I don’t want to be a superhero. I’m not planning on, like, using this for good.”

“Oh, my mistake,” Tommy says dryly, “I forgot how camera shy you are.”

Lovett perks up despite himself. “There’s never any reports of anything, though, what does that have to do with it?”

“They try to keep it out of the normal media, but social media’s a whole different ballpark. I’ll get you on a mailing list.”

“I’m sorry,” Lovett says. “Have you been checking out awesome superhero snaps this whole time and not sharing with the class?!”

Tommy just smirks and forwards him a link to sign up for the list and shares the costume maker’s info. There are awesome superheroes on Snapchat, it turns out, and on Instagram, and there’s even one of them in LA.

He’s calling himself Shadow, and as much as Lovett hates the name (has this guy seen the movie?), he has to admit that the form-fitting black costume and flare for the dramatic is doing him a lot of favors. He follows him, and wonders what he’d call himself if he had to come up with something.

Not that he’s going to be a superhero. Nope. Not even close. He’d be pretty useless, he’s not even good at throwing a punch. Maybe the new force behind it would help, but he’s not holding his breath.

Nothing really changes in Lovett’s life, except he carries Pundit around even more than he already did. She feels way lighter to him now, and she’s certainly not complaining. He’s able to up his reps at the gym, and the weight itself. As his muscle tone improves, it feels like this new, weird ability (powers, he tries not to think) works hand in hand to make him stronger and more nimble. It’s nice, and he admires what it’s doing for his body overall, but it’s not as profound as he would have expected.

He’s content to watch this Shadow guy on Insta and be a little jealous he doesn’t have his own flashy ability (super speed, though way less impressive than that of Quicksilver or The Flash), and ignore Tommy’s increasing hints as to whether or not he’ll actually try to do anything unselfish with his newfound strength.

Nothing changes, until suddenly it does. He’s out with Pundit late one night, probably later than is wise given the neighborhood he’s wandered into. It’s all empty storefronts and closed shops, and though it shocks him, he’s not entirely surprised to accidentally walk up on a guy getting the shit kicked out of him by a couple other people.

They haven’t noticed him, so he quietly ties Pundit up in a dark corner, praying she won’t bark for once in her life. He flips up his hood and strides forward before he can think better of it, says, “Hey assholes,” and pulls the guy currently kicking away back so hard he flies across the street, nearly getting hit by an oncoming car.

The other assailant freezes, his eyes huge. “What the fuck?”

“Do you wanna join him?” Lovett asks.

The guy looks over to where his buddy is crumpled against a wall, not even trying to get back up. He looks back to Lovett and shakes his head, then he takes off.

Lovett makes sure the kid on the ground is okay–barely twenty if he’s a day–and crosses the street to the first guy. He uses his hoodie string to tie the guy up, only getting away with it because he’s still so out of it, and calls the cops.

Then he collects Pundit, tells the kid to stay put so he can press charges, and flees, adrenaline racing through him. It feels good. Really good. Even if no one’s going to be bragging about it online.

Except then the kid he saved does talk about it. He posts a video of himself to his Instagram story and it blows up, at least by underground “superhero” standards. The kid is totally wowed by him, and he makes a point of saying how hilarious his savior was, even though Lovett doesn’t think he said anything particularly funny in the moment.

He admits to Tommy the next day he might need a costume, and Tommy forwards him the designer’s info again. (What, so he might’ve already lost it, and?) The costume maker is a genius who doesn’t believe in small talk, and she’s more than a little biting toward Lovett until she realizes he’s not a total idiot. He loves her immediately.

Since she’s based in New York, they mostly communicate through Skype and email. It’s her idea to make him a hoodie he can wear everywhere without drawing too much intention, lined with kevlar that’s light and thin. She makes it in a deep charcoal, so he can wear it with his maroon pants, which he greatly appreciates. There’s an extra portion to tightly cover his face down to just below his nose that neatly folds up into the hood and is virtually undetectable. The makeshift mask looks a little like Matt Murdoch’s, without the horns. From the show, not the terrible movie.

She ships it to him after they’ve gone back and forth a million times, and she’s gotten every single measurement on top that Lovett could have imagined existed, and then some. He takes it over to Tommy’s right away, trying it on for him and getting a wolf whistle for his troubles.

He doesn’t go out looking for people to save or anything, but he wears the hoodie often, or keeps it close by. He breaks up another few fights, stops a handful of muggings, and mostly feels awesome about everything. He takes a couple hits, luckily none to the face, and gets angry all over again that he doesn’t have accelerated healing.

A few of his rescues are recorded, and they go semi-viral in this weird world, but none as much as Shadow’s. To Lovett’s eternal dismay, some grateful teenagers he saves start calling him Quip because of his quick commentary while scaring off the bad guys.

Tommy laughs so hard he cries when he finds out, then he starts laughing all over again. It’s a terrible cycle.

Shadow, of course, gets attention from KTLA when the DJs talk about him one morning after he saves a dog from a house fire, and then there’s a daring rescue of school kids that really lifts off. He becomes a trending topic on Twitter for LA, unusual in this little community.

Because it’s Twitter, Jon sees it.

“Holy shit, guys, have you seen this?” he asks breathlessly. He keeps replaying the short clip of Shadow zipping all the kids out of the bus before it topples over onto the highway below.

Lovett makes a noncommittal noise and lets Tommy take the lead in the conversation. Days later, Jon is still talking about it, starry-eyed as Lovett’s ever seen him. He’s totally into the world now, tracking superheros on all the platforms he can manage.

Whenever Jon’s out of the room, Lovett keeps asking Tommy questions like, “But don’t you think his obsession with this Shadow guy is a little over the top?”

Tommy just rolls his eyes and says, “The dude’s literally been trending on Twitter every day this week. He saved a bus full of children. And a dog.”

Lovett huffs. “Okay sure, fine, that’s great I guess.”

When Jon’s back in the office later, Lovett says, “What about Quip? Have you seen him?”

“Who?” Jon asks, dreamily scrolling through photos that people have posted of Shadow’s latest feat on Instagram, something about bachelorettes in Vegas. A few minutes later, he says, “Huh, well.”

“What’s that?” Lovett asks, trying to be coy about how he’s looking over.

“Oh,” one of the new interns says, looking at Jon’s computer. “His shoulders.”

“Yeah,” Jon replies faintly, and Lovett fights not to blush.

Tommy hums and looks straight at Lovett when he replies, “Yeah? I really like his thighs.”

“Mhmm,” Jon says. “For sure.”

Lovett ducks into the kitchen for a La Croix, but he can’t keep the stupid grin off his face.

It all comes to a head when Jon almost gets hit by a car while he’s on a run, thanks to his inability to stop obsessively reading Twitter. Naturally, Shadow saves him, because Lovett is at home eating takeout like a normal person.

For a solid two weeks, Jon’s even more besotted. Sighing while staring at his iPad, when he’s supposed to be doing research. Thank god his encounter isn’t one that got recorded, Lovett doesn’t think he could stand seeing it. Shadow’s arms wrapped around Jon, Jon staring at the guy like he’d hung the moon.

Lovett’s sure the car wasn’t going that fast, Jon probably would’ve been okay. Tommy glares at him when he shares that thought though, and Lovett grumbles and concedes that he’s just glad Jon is safe, he guesses.

The next time he and Jon go out, Jon leaves the bar first to wait for the Lyft while Lovett waits impatiently for the tab. When he walks out the door, he immediately sees Jon on the ground, his palms flat on the concrete. Some asshole is standing over him with, fuck. With a gun.

Lovett doesn’t think twice. He flips his hood up, quickly makes sure the mask is in place, and runs toward the would-be mugger. The guy is caught by surprise, so Lovett manages to break his wrist with little fanfare, though it does mean the gun accidentally goes off.

It’s several feet from where Jon is laid out, but he still flinches violently. Lovett zip ties the asshole (Tommy’s suggestion because they’re effective and easy to carry around), and calls the police.

Jon is shakily getting to his feet at this point, staring at Lovett with watery eyes. “Oh my god, thank you,” he says. “I can’t even begin to–you’re amazing.”

Luckily, the sirens ring out at that moment, distracting Jon enough that Lovett can duck away, pull back the hood, and pretend he’s just coming out of the bar. He lets Jon regale him with the daring tale, tells the cops he didn’t see anything, and gets a still trembling Jon safely into the car home.

The main thing about Quip are the reports of the one-sided banter he supplies, but of course, Lovett didn’t say anything to Jon. He honestly didn’t even think about it, it wasn’t important at the time, only Jon’s safety was. Now, though, Jon is pouting over it.

“Everyone online says he’s so funny,” Jon grouses on Monday at the office, after telling everyone on staff about his heroic encounter. “He didn’t say anything to me at all.”

Lovett looks wildly at Tommy for help, but Tommy just grins at him like he got the fucking canary. “Hey, did you guys see the new upload about Shadow?”

fucking traitor, Lovett slacks him.

Soon after, Lovett comes across Jon on his nightly–he doesn’t want to say patrol, he’s not fucking Batman, but if the shoe fits–walk. Jon is lingering near the bar where he’d almost been mugged before. It’s not an area Jon frequents, Lovett knows that, since the bar had been one of their employees’ suggestions.

Lovett watches him for awhile from afar, glad he’s not wearing his trademark red pants and trying to change his gait a little. He trails Jon for a good twenty minutes, and Jon doesn’t really end up anywhere. It’s suspicious as fuck.

When Lovett can’t take it anymore, tired of watching Jon looking desirable and pathetic on street corners, seeing him turn down multiple advances, he approaches him with the hood and mask on.

“Are you trying to get into trouble?” he asks, making his voice a little lower, a little more gruff.

Jon startles, spinning around to find Lovett–well, Quip–behind him. He smiles wide, and Lovett can’t get over how trusting he is. It’d be worrisome if it wasn’t Lovett behind the mask.

“Well?”

“Uh…” Jon says, looking down and rubbing his hand over the back of his neck.

“Don’t pull this shit, man,” Lovett says. “It’s dangerous.”

Jon sighs. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, I just–”

“Just what?” Lovett interrupts, angry and smarting with it. “Hoping Shadow’ll be there to save you the next time you nearly die?”

Jon’s cheeks go red. He answers a little too quickly for it to be believable. “What? No, of course not.”

Lovett stays where he is, fixing Jon with a hard look through the mesh lenses of his costume. He stands to his full height when he’s in disguise, minimizing the size difference between them.

“I was hoping to run into you again,” Jon admits, after a long moment of silence.

“Why?”

“I dunno. I just. I like you?”

Lovett barely stops himself from gasping.

“Can I?” Jon asks, not bothering to finish his sentence.

He steps closer and closer, until he’s in Lovett’s space. Then he leans forward and kisses Lovett’s mouth, light and fleeting.

“Get home,” Lovett says, his voice a croak. Then, when Jon doesn’t move, he adds, “Now.”

Jon nods and turns to walk away, his shoulder slumped.

On a whim, Lovett calls out, “You’re lucky you’re pretty,” and it’s worth it to hear Jon laugh.turns out i am terrible at getting to the good parts. i’ll probably be continuing this eventually! prompts list over here, feel free to shoot me an ask!

[tempusfugitaddict]

When You Became Mine by: A.S. Teague Genre: Contemporary Romance Release Date: October 4, 2018 Cover designer: Kerry Heavens with Rebel Graphics Cover Photographer: Lindee Robinson Photography Cover Models: Alexis Susalla and A.C. Parker

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/39796794-when-you-became-mine

I was twelve years old when I fell in love with Piper Kelley. Even at the age of eight, she was everything I wasn’t: brave, bold, and beautiful.

The night of my college graduation party, I finally made my move, but Piper only had eyes for one man—my younger brother.

With a battered heart, I left for Vegas, determined to put her behind me. But eight years later, fate proved once again that it had never cared about my plans.

Now, I’m back home, and determined not to fall into the same trap I spent the majority of my

adolescence trying to escape.

But when Piper finds herself at the risk of losing her medical license, I realize just how far I’m

willing to go to protect her.

I was twelve when Piper Kelley became mine.

It’s time I let her know.

Review:

I could not put it down!

It was amazing, so powerful, sad, funny, and simple perfection.

Honestly, in a league of its own; such a deep compelling story of friends to romance, but it is so much more since well Piper and Lawson grew up together in the same house.

I really do not want to spoil it for anyone because I truly loved it and I would be taking so much from you if I offered spoilers.

The characters were simply wonderful, all of them so well written and relatable. Of course, our focus is mainly on Piper and Law but all of them are great and you get to know this family so well from all sides.

This is my first book from A.S. Teague and I hope it will not be the last, actually I really would love to come back to this family, as there are really lovely characters that deserve their story told and happy endings.

I am not sure, if it is planned already, but I hope I am allowed to submit this as a motion for consideration.

Honestly, I think it is best that I keep this review short and sweet, because all I can do is tell you that I SUPER HIGHLY recommend When you Became Mine to you all. It is a wonderful romance, ticks all the right boxes and so much more.

Incredible writing and amazing characters, keep that in mind and I promise that if you are in the mood for a great romance, well go no further because you found it.  I got attracted by the blurb, but tell you what the book will not let you down!

It was an amazing journey and I hope you decide to read it as well!

Buy Links: Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US → https://amzn.to/2xVsoLw

Amazon CA → https://amzn.to/2NjVw3U

Amazon UK → https://amzn.to/2NjK8oS

Amazon AU → https://amzn.to/2NeOugV

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  Praise for the Novel:

“This is an incredible story of family, friendship, and more connection and fire than you can shake a stick at! When You Became Mine is a heartfelt friends to lovers romance that will wow and consume you on every single page.” The Never Ending Book Basket

  ” Engaging, witty, and deeply touching at times, the author perfectly orchestrated a compelling and timeless friends to lovers story. Unique and unforgettable, When You Became Mine was absolutely impossible to put down.” Biblio Belles Book Blog

  Excerpt:

Hampton was a liar.

I knew Piper lived here. There was no way to not know it.

She was messy. She left her clothes damn near everywhere. The moment she walked in the door, her shoes and crazy ass socks came off and were dropped wherever she was standing, never to be picked up again. She left cabinet doors open in the kitchen, as if she’d become distracted and forgotten to close them. She never remembered to turn a light off and I dreaded my next power bill. It didn’t matter how many times I reminded her, she would just walk right out of a room without a second thought. And most of all, she made more noise while getting ready than was humanly possible. Whether she was singing off-tune or studying out loud, she never shut up.

She also smelled amazing. Every time she got in the shower, which seemed to be at least twice a day, my house, which was large, would be filled with the scent of lavender and honey. I’d found myself escaping to the back deck any time I heard the water turn on, even though it was getting warmer and warmer each day. It was the only way to avoid the intoxicating scent that was all Piper.

She had no boundaries, no respect for someone’s privacy. She walked around in her short robe that tended to come untied just enough for me to catch a glimpse of her smooth skin, pink from her shower. Every single morning after she took that blasted shower, she’d head straight for the kitchen, not giving a single shit that I was trying to get ready for the day. No, she’d just waltz in, half naked and smelling like every fantasy I’d ever had and try to chat. It didn’t matter that I’d walk past her with barely a grunt in her direction, she didn’t stop. She’d follow me down the hall, blabbering on about a patient she had in the ER or a new song she’d heard on the radio, and walk right into my room, throwing herself onto my bed to continue talking, never once noticing I didn’t respond.

She was funny. She didn’t mean to be, but I’d find myself chuckling at her antics nonetheless. She’d come home from the mall a few days ago with an oriental rug that was the ugliest thing I’d ever seen. Proudly, she’d laid it out, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, and then proclaimed that she loved it. She’d been trying to get a rise out of me, and I refused to give in to her, instead telling her I thought it fit the space perfectly. The mini tantrum she’d thrown after not getting the reaction she’d wanted was so damn funny I’d had to sprint from the room to keep from letting her see me laughing at her expense. Every day, I’d find myself laughing to myself over something she’d said or done. And every day, I’d have to remind myself to keep it together.

So, yes, I knew she was living in my house.

And she was driving me crazy.

  Author Bio: 

A.S. Teague enjoys the warmth of South Carolina with her husband and two daughters. The stereotypes about peach cobbler and sweet tea are not overstated. After years in the medical field, she is now enjoying every minute of being a stay-at-home mom. She loves wine, the beach, wine on the beach, and crying at Disney movies. When she doesn’t have a book in her hand, she can be found pestering her husband with pictures of animals she wants to rescue, as well as debating whether to exercise or take a nap.

  Social Media Links:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorasteague

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/authorasteague

Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/authorasteague

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2OFnY1A

Mailing List: http://eepurl.com/crfehH

  ✰✰ NEW RELEASE + KINDLE UNLIMITED ✰✰ When You Became Mine by @authorasteague is #LIVE!! #BuyNow #KU → https://amzn.to/2ycgjRE When You Became Mine by: A.S. Teague Genre: Contemporary Romance Release Date: October 4, 2018 Cover designer: Kerry Heavens with Rebel Graphics…

[getfoundfastblog]

The Eight Types of Blog Posts Every Business Should Use

So you sit down to come up with topics for your next couple of blog posts and...nothing. You draw a total blank.

Sometimes business blog post ideas come hard and fast like a heavy rain. Other times you have a total mental drought on what to write about next.

Don’t sweat it! There are a couple of blog formats that can work well for just about any subject. Adding them to your repertoire can make coming up with your next blog post topics as easy as falling off a unicycle.

In fact, you can use this list to plan your blog strategy for months in advance. If you make some of these blog post types a recurring monthly series, for instance, you can know exactly what you’ll write about at least half the time.

So get out your notebook or spreadsheet and jot down the following eight great blog post formats that have a way of working well in just about any context.

(Note that the letter “X” stands for any number of list items you end up using. We’re also using [Topic] as a stand-in for whatever subject or focus you’re writing about.)

1. Best Practices in [Topic], X Killer Tips for [Topic], X [Topic] Hacks You Didn’t Know About, X Steps to Get Better at [Topic] Etc.

Everyone loves lists. They’re a top-performing content type, especially on social media.

Why are lists so effective? Well, let’s list a few reasons.

They’re quick and easy to read, even if you’re just skimming.

It’s an engaging format that’s easy to get into. You won’t find huge thesis introductions or the like.

They cover a broad range of topics, ideas, practices, etc. efficiently.

They implicitly promise a certain amount of value. You’re not just getting one tip, you’re getting X of them!

They have variety. If you have a list of “10 Things You Need to Do to Feel Better at the End of the Day,” a reader can hate seven of the suggestions but still find huge value in the last three.

Of course, not just any list can fulfill this criteria when writing your business blog. The lists you write must contain actual value and usefulness.

That’s why blog posts that promise self-improvement do so well. Just reading the list of hacks, tips, best practices, etc. will suddenly make you better at doing that thing you wanted to do.

Try to distill or retool certain topics you want to cover into helpful lists. They strongly communicate that the article is worth every bit of the reader’s time. They also pack tons of value into a small space.

2. X Top Trends in [Topic]

Everyone wants to stay current. That’s one of the biggest reasons we go online and read content. We want to find out what’s new and exciting. We also want to avoid being left behind if the latest trends are going to soon become standard practices.

Keep your audience abreast of things happening in your industry with lists of top current trends. These post types work especially well with seasonal timing, such as “X Trends in Social Media for 2018” or “Brands Are Preparing for the 2018 Holiday Season Already Thanks to These X Trends.”

The beauty of the term “trends” is that it’s incredibly vague.

A trend can be a best practice for something people use already. For instance, many businesses use emotional photos when sharing blogs on social as a standard practice because such photos are effective at getting engagement.

A trend can also be something relatively new, like how many businesses have started using live video broadcasts for behind the scenes looks, live announcements, Q&As and more.

Trends also include bold new ideas bursting onto the horizon. For instance, some small businesses have realized that they can be the first thing a smart speaker like Amazon Echo or Google Home suggests if they focus their SEO strategies on voice search.

In a way, listing trends is similar to offering tips and hacks, but with stronger connotations of being timely and keeping up with the Joneses. You can also discuss hot new topics that get people’s adrenaline pumping.

Make a pledge to reveal current trends at least a few times a year, and you’ll help your audience stay hip and always on the cutting edge.

3. Roundup of Top Resources in [Topic]

Even if you wrote a blog every single day, you’d never have as much content or cover as many subjects as some of the best content publishers out there.

That’s why it’s ok to send people away from your website from time to time in order to give them the exact information they need. If you can point them towards an excellent resource, then they will appreciate the huge favor you’ve done them.

Sharing great resources also has the added effect of some of their prestige rubbing off on you. “Oh man, I didn’t know how many free classes there were for coding online,” someone might say, “but this business pointed me towards Codecademy, and I’ve been using it every weekend!”

Think of it like suggesting great films to a movie buff. They’ll be impressed that you knew something they didn’t. The better quality thing you point them towards, the more prestigious you become by association.

So what kind of resources work best?

Great blogs that take a more in-depth angle to topics than you do

Free sources of things like stock photos, how-tos, lessons, guides, etc.

Ways to do something cheaply, such as ordering replacement car parts yourself from a reliable online vendor

Lists of the best apps or tech tools to use that make their life easier

Explicit instructions, such as how Swim University provides infographics to help someone open their pool or balance their chemicals

Anything that uses humor or creativity to perfectly capture your industry, like how the Marketoonist nails the way marketers eagerly embrace technology they don’t quite know how to use properly

Great videos to watch on certain subjects, especially if you have a limited video content strategy

4. X Experts to Follow for [Topic]

No matter how smart you are, there are always people in your industry who will know more about something than you do. That’s totally ok! We can’t know everything, and even geniuses can be bested in certain niche topics.

Following the experts in your industry therefore makes perfect sense. They can fill you in on certain concepts, and they can also explore topics in your industry from angles you hadn’t considered.

Others may have a brilliant way of summing up complex issues in a few words. For instance, we adored this simple yet profound advice from Shopify Podcast host Kurt Elster on website design.

https://twitter.com/kurtinc/status/954044256360062976

Following industry experts and insiders also critically keeps your audience up-to-date with the absolute latest and best-of-breed ideas within your industry.

Point your audience towards your favorite mentors, geniuses, and newsbreakers. They’ll stay better-informed on topics and practices, letting you dive more in-depth with concepts thanks to them being so well versed.

5. The Ultimate Guide to [Topic]

Every once in a while, it makes complete sense to delve into a topic like you would an in-depth manual or guide. Doing so gives your audience valuable troves of information.

Guides also serve as a one-stop source for whatever topic you’re covering. While that amount of depth can seem like a lot to cover at once, you can provide a hyperlinked “Table of Contents” to make jumping between topics easier.

You can also reference the guide directly within your future content. Rather than backing up to explain the basics all the time, you can simply hyperlink to your guide.

“Ultimate Guide” posts tend to get huge volumes of shares, and search engines adore them. If you provide the right structured data, Google may even feature your guide at the very top of search engine results in their knowledge box!

6. Statistics Roundup Post

Sometimes people want “Just the facts, ma’am.”

Whether they need a lot of fact-based information to make decisions, or they just want to reference stats in their own content, creating statistics posts offer bucketloads of usefulness to audiences.

As an added bonus, each time you reference a certain statistic for your industry, you can link to your stats rundown instead of the original source. This helps your posts stay fact-based and valuable while directing fewer people away from your domain.

7. Expert Roundup — Quotes & Thoughts From Your Industry

Rounding up expert commentary and opinions is like bringing all your favorite talking heads into one room for a conversation. You can frame a complex topic from multiple angles, or you can run through critical concepts list style alongside experts’ own input.

Consider making expert roundups a regular part of your posting schedule. They work especially well as a follow up to posts you’ve just written. For example, you can write about how to improve ecommerce sales through PPC campaigns one week, then follow up with an expert roundup on the subject the next.

8. Curated Posts and News Roundups

With the right approach, you can link to another post in a way that still brings authority to your own domain and business brand.

The key is to not just introduce the piece and say “click here.” Instead, give a thorough introduction along with a brief summary. Make sure to tie the post in with any recent blog posts you’ve written regarding the topic.

Also, give your own response to the piece itself at the end. Reflect on what it means personally to your business or how it relates to core concepts you hold dear.

With this approach, something as a simple as a post share can easily turn into a 500 word article with an extremely low likelihood of an SEO penalty.

You can even curate several posts in a row as part of a news roundup for your industry. Doing this once a week or once a month can provide great content for email subscribers as well as your regular blog readers.

Coming Up With Good Business Blog Post Ideas Doesn’t Have to Mean Reinventing the Wheel

All of the above post types use a standardized, structured format while still inviting plenty of room for your own personal flavor and creativity.

Don’t think of using these business blog post ideas as a crutch! Instead, they serve as a springboard for your own ideas to come forth.

Audiences also like knowing exactly what to expect when they click to read something, and these blog ideas definitely give them that.

So stay creative and true to your audience but don’t bend over backwards just to come up with new blog topics all the time. Using the formats above, you can feel like most of the work is done for you before you even write the first word.

  At Get Found Fast we focus on delivering a well rounded approach to execute the perfect marketing strategy for local businesses just like yours.  For more creative ideas on content marketing contact our office today. 303-952-4900 or visit our website at https://www.getfoundfast.com/

Originally Posted right here: The Eight Types of Blog Posts Every Business Should Use