#I'd think to buy a new dress but a) that would cost even more money and I've already spent way more than I had wanted in my endeavor

[spikeisawesome456]

.

[20dollarlolita]

My friend is getting some crap on instagram about perceived classism in the lolita community, and as someone who runs a budget-focused lolita fashion blog, I'm going to rehash some of the old "but I can't afford burando!" conversation.

For some background reading, here's where I bought three "lolita" "dresses" off ebay, and what I actually received for my money. And here's a breakdown of one of those specifically. I'm linking to these because I want everyone to remember that the pictures on ebay, amazon, wish, etc do not represent what the actual piece you receive will look like.

Lolita fashion can be expensive, but the less expensive end of legitimate lolita fashion is not actually as expensive as many people think it is. It's not all $300 for a dress and $60 for a pair of socks. There are options that bring the price down to other fashions. It cannot compete with the hyper-fast fashion of Shein and H&M and other places where the clothing is designed to be disposable. This is because lolita clothing is not disposable. Even modified or damaged, lolita fashion pieces have resell value. It's very common for people to be wearing garments that are over ten years old. There's also a lot of documentation about how hyper-fast fashion is damaging to the environments where it's made and the people who made it.

Okay, so that's all very fine and well, but it's true that recognizing that something is worth the money doesn't actually get you the money to buy it. There's a lot of things that I recognize are worth the money it costs to buy them, but that I don't have the money for. I don't drive a high-end electric car, even though I think it would be a better choice for me, because I don't have the money for a high-end electric car. So I do, very distinctly, understand that. I'm not about to tell someone "just save up for it!"

But, when someone tells you that you cannot buy lolita fashion on wish dot com, they're not actually saying "you won't be accepted in a wish dot com dress." They're saying, "any money you spend on a wish dot com dress will be wasted, because you will not receive a usable garment." Let's play pretend for a second. You come up to me with $20 and say, "I'd like to buy clothes." I say, "Good. I'll sell you some clothes." I then take your $20 bill, rip it into small pieces, eat all of the pieces, and say, "that's your clothes." Now, you didn't actually get any clothes from that, and there's no way you're getting your $20 back because I have consumed it. Your friend comes up to me and says, "Hi, I'd like to buy clothes." You say, "Don't give her that $20! It will be a waste of money!" Your friend says, "That's classism, because I only have $20." That's the conversation that's happening right now on my friend's instagram.

Classism does exist in the lolita fashion community. It can even come from people with good intentions. But, when it comes to buying on Ebay and Amazon and Walmart.com, people who are saying, "you can't buy lolita fashion on walmart dot com," aren't saying, "we won't accept your walmart dot com dress, because it was cheap." What they're saying is, "the thing that the site is telling you that you're buying and the thing that you will receive are going to be two different things. The thing you will receive will barely be a garment." There's a reason why, when I say "lolita dress from ebay," I have to typeset it as "'lolita' 'dress' from ebay," because it will probably be neither lolita nor a dress.

If you're new to the fashion and want a good shopping resource, 42lolita is a reseller/shopping service that will tell you what the shipping will be up front. Many other resellers will send you the shipping costs after you make the purchase, which makes it harder to predict what you'll be paying. You won't be getting a dress for $20 on 42lolita or anywhere else, but the prices they charge are more in line with shopping at a department store, rather than shopping at a big name designer store. There's a lot of other ways to purchase lolita fashion, and I just used 42lolita as one example.

The number of people who genuinely want the fashion to be as expensive as possible is not all that big. Even people who occasionally buy a $300 dress enjoy finding inexpensive accessories and support pieces. Finding lolita-usable jewelry on the Walmart clearance rack is a thing that's exciting to most people in the fashion. If there was a secret to buying $20 dresses on ebay and getting something that could be used in the fashion, people in the fashion would absolutely already be doing that.

So anyway, yeah, there's classism in the lolita community, but telling someone that they should not give me $20 for clothes when experience shows that I'm just going to rip it up and eat is not classism. Friends don't let friends spend money on badly made replicas on aliexpress.

[dumbdomb]

Read my pinned BEFORE you interact! 18+ only.

stalker who works in a wholesome lingerie shop and is surprised to see me in their store one day. they keep their distance at first because they've seen me walk away from businesses that are too quick to approach me. i take my time browsing a few different styles before really looking around. the place is charming and comforting to be in. i look their way sheepishly, and they begin in my direction, asking if i need anything. i ask where the fitting room is, holding up a few items. "i'm not sure what i want to get, just trying things on." while i'm in the dressing room, they quickly grab some of the pieces they've always wanted to see me wear. working with so many different people and brands, they actually know my size and fit better than i do. i feel a bit lost outside of my comfort zone and just want to feel pretty in something new. they ask if it's ok to help size me and try on something they think i'd like, and i accept. they seem very professional and their warm touch is so inviting. i was never shy about changing in front of others, but when they put me in a gorgeous mesh and lace outfit- well, i felt almost like i couldn't recognize myself. it was certainly a change of pace from the dainty lingerie i'd typically wear. but i didn't see myself buying something like that, not on this day at least. they helped me out of that set, and i could swear i saw them glancing at my body, but i put that idea out of my mind. they're just doing their job, and maybe i'm a little nervous because i was not expecting to be fitted by someone so close in age. as they helped me into the next outfit, i felt their face brush against my shoulder, and it seemed like they were smelling me... feeling a bit creeped out, i convinced myself i was just imagining things. they probably took a deep breath, tired from working all day. it's not like i was some special customer or anything, they just wanted me to try on more expensive clothes in the hopes i'd spend more money. i shouldn't even be doing this. it's not like i'm going to buy all these items. i feel a warm hand that has been lingering on my waist while i was caught up in my overthinking. i shift my weight to the side, away from their touch, and nervously ask if they think this style suits me? they look at my reflection in the mirror, up and down, with a sort of determined and quizzical gaze, before they answer. they ask if they could get something else for me to try on real quick, they don't want to keep me waiting long but they are feeling inspired and confident in the idea they have to see me in. they step out of the changing room, closing and locking the empty store without me knowing and returning shortly with another outfit. they bring in a gorgeous, pastel pink set, fully aware of how much i love pink. they help dress me, their fingers caressing my body as they adjust the straps and smooth things over. i stare at how amazing i look, not paying any attention to them ogling me. i step forward into the light, and they take a step back, watching as i turn and arch my back, groping my own body and feeling so good in this style. i briefly turn to ask what they think, with a smile on my face and not waiting for an answer. they step closer, telling me i look so pretty and anyone would be lucky to see me wearing this. a small thought about how much this must cost crosses my mind, but i try to ignore it for another moment.

READ MY PINNED before you interact! 18+ only.

[docholligay]

Buy my Fine Wares So I Can Be a Ship's Barnacle on My Mom's Trip!

Hello! Are you looking to enhance your October? Boy, do I have a deal for you, or maybe two! here with what you'll be helping me get for my trip so that I can hopefully have a lovely time with my mother and maybe even pay for something myself! (The Patreon will be paused in December)

This is where you come in! I have nice things below that you may want to buy, things that come up in limited quantities when available and that I have moved my schedule around to accommodate.

For everything:

First come, first served! First in my inbox, first to claim. If you’re second, I will keep you on hold in case person one does not pay. (I’ll tell you of course)

I do NOT have to like the item. If we want me to read something and do a positive only review…I mean I guess it’s not OFF the table, but the price would be highly variable and that would be something we’d want to discuss privately before any money changed hands. Not relevant to this moment.

Talk to me before you pay! Terms are different depending on our long-term working relationship.

Book review, delivered in October: $85 SOLD, includes full reading of any book up to 500 pages (longer than that isn’t off limits, just come talk to me) and a 2,000 word at least review of the book. You are absolutely allowed and encouraged to send me questions you’d like me address in the review, or themes you’d like me to touch on. Not a requirement though!

I have the right to veto a book and refund you, but, I’m actually not sure what that would be, in fairness. I just want to put out there I have the right to do it.

Must be available in physical form. 

What will I be getting with this? A Davek mini umbrella, because it's going to rain, cold rain, for 80% of the time I'm there and I want to drink my mulled wine dry as possible. (the extra $20 is going to my "buying wool socks" fund)

Book review, delivered in November: $85, and also everything I said above, just scroll up. I could copy/paste, but why make the post longer?

What will I be getting with this?

A letter sweater to replace the one I lost last time I was in fucking England.

Y'all, I loved this early 60s sweater. It was my first vintage piece. I am so angry at myself, I hate myself so much every time I think about leaving it on that fucking train, because I was trying to make the changeover in Peterborough and I'd never done a train change. I am so sad about it. i am sad right now

But there comes a time when we have to move on with it, with or not we're getting over it, and continuing to punish myself by not letting myself buy a nice women's letter sweater to replace it is not, I regret to say, actually accomplishing anything. I'm going to buy it, I'm going to take it the UK, and I'm NOT going to lose it. (Watch, I find it for sale in the vintage clothing section of Portobello road and damn near cause an international incident ahahah) (Jesus christ Doc do they really cost that much?? Babygirl this is the price of me buying an imperfect one and doing some cleaning and mending on it. You see why I hate myself over this)

A weekend of liveblog SOLD: $230, This is exactly what it sounds like, two days in a row of four hours of liveblog! A great idea if you want to do a whole opening episode of an anime or continue something that I’ve done in the past!

I am open to doing almost anything, but as with everything, I have the right to veto the show you would like to do. If you have something you think might be a little odd, you can always talk to me! I don’t get mad about saying no, as long as you’re fine with knowing it’s a possibility. I MAY LIVE TO REGRET THIS, BUT HOLLIGAY HATES CAN BE PURCHASED FOR A $40 ADD ON, AND NOTED ENGLISH SCHOLAR DOC FOR $60*

What is this buying?

I wish this were more fun, but this is my drinks wallet! I mean, i think that's very fun, but I know it lacks the excitement of a new dress or something. If it sweetens the pot at all, I'm giving my mother a tour of at least two of the pubs that I think of as being Lena/her family's style on the East End, and definitely am not hiding it under the guise of my mother's desire to find a pub she liked as much as the old Angel and Crown, which is now sadly defunct.

*Those of you who signed up on the interest poll to receive notifications receive $20 off the add-on, because that's the price I quoted you!

[dawnowar]

Spending my Xmas days off cleaning the house

Went to get my annual eye exam today before the end of the year and my prescription hasn't changed which is cool because i have roughly 50 pairs of glasses now and I don't want to have to start over. Makes me want to buy more even though i clearly do not need more but that never stopped me before.

I was going to take myself out for chicken wings so i asked where the best ones are and then went there. It was a sports bar with a big "seat yourself" sign, so I did and promptly got completely ignored by everyone who works there. As i sat on the uncomfortable chair waiting for no one to take my order I noticed how much i hate this place and the crowd that came with it and the many blaring TV with football games on it, so I left and ordered wings from Sheetz from my phone in the parking lot which were ready in the time it took me to drive there and pick them up.

Ate wings with my cats on my comfy sofa in my own time which made me much happier. Got a good shake too for less money than it would have cost me at the sports bar and then i would have had to tip the waitress for giving me shitty service on top of it.

Yeah i know its Christmas Eve Day and a Sunday at that and maybe its not the best day/time to happen into a sports bar that's one of the places staying open for people to drink at on Xmas Eve but whatever. I had a shitty experience and I'm not sorry for leaving.

I'm doing laundry including all the various holiday themed outfits so i can put them away and the bedding and anything I've been meaning to wash and not getting to. I decluttered a lot of the living room and i have intentions of decluttering the bathroom and cleaning the kitchen before the holiday is over.

I have a frozen lasagne for dinner tonight and some texas toast. It's not a typical tradition but it's mine.

I've been sick for a couple of months. All normal stuff just one sickness after another. I havent been well for more than a few days before i get the next thing and i'm so ready to be well again but I didn't go out to the before-christmas parties and I guess im glad because it seems everyone got covid at a thing I skipped so I stopped feeling bad about not going out now I'm well enough to go out again.

In fact ive been collecting clothes and makeup and such. Online shopping while I've been sick for my return to going out again and i just havent gone out again. But its winter now and I ate too much between being sick and inactive and the holidays, i need to diet and exercise again for a bit i think before i get in some of these clothes.

I am expecting to go out for New Years Eve. I like to drink some champagne with strangers in a fancy dress for that holiday.

I have an idea where im going but i dont know what i will wear. But I have choices which is awesome.

I've been taking an estrogen/progesterone cream because I was having hot flashes due to menopause that was waking me up every hour and i was so tired from not being able to sleep properly.

This stuff had me sleeping great right away so I was totally into it but now I'm sleepy all the time even when I don't do anything and I'm cutting the dosage in half hoping that makes some difference.

Not sure what it'll do but im trying it now and not when i need to be at work all day in the morning in case I can't sleep. Last night i did the first half dose and I woke up hungry in the middle of the night but i didn't wake up with a hot flash so it was inconclusive.

I don't miss the hot flashes and I'm sure i'd rather be overtired from estrogen than sleep-deprived from lack of estrogen but hoping to find a happy medium where im not tired all the time.

I dont care a thing about Christmas but im happy to have these days off. We should get a bunch of days off every two or three months just because imho.

To catch up on what you need to catch up on and do Drs appointments and service your car and shit.

I pretty much gave up on 2023 a few weeks ago when I realized I basically wasnt going to be well enough to do any of the fun holiday stuff and I may as well just stay home and clean. I'm fine with all this. It needs to be done and the more I do the more I start to feel like I'm reclaiming my life as I am reclaiming my house.

So its time to fold and put away the laundry in the dryer and rotate in another load.

Happy Holidays.

[mellow-strain]

A Revival & New direction for my blog

I haven't posted in a while, but here I am!

I have decided to basically dump my ideas here, because I have tonnes!

I hope to write long, rambly yet entertaining posts about my opinions focusing on fashion, sustainability and finances/anti-capitalism/anti-consumerism (as it connects to my life). It'll still incorporate my other interests too of course.

Fashion

What do I mean by 'Fashion'?

I mean in the development of my personal wardrobe. Those who know me IRL know that I am a fashionable individual, however, upon recent reflection I realise there's too much mainstream ideals that I may, sadly, only be following because everyone else is doing.

However, in saying that, I love a lot of my wardrobe and I'd never let a single piece in that I didn't have an appreciation or practical application for.

I really want to take a more historically inspired approach. Drawing from the 1900's (duh) but also, the 1800's and possibly even before 👀

My biggest focuses are Victorian, Edwardian, regency and

"what did the peasants wear? Because if it was good enough for them, it's certainly good enough for me!"

In more modern/broad ways, I will be drawing from

Lolita/J-Fashion

Gothic Fashion, mainly romantic but also many other subgenres.

Mermaids (not inherently 'mermaidcore' because I think that's a bit of a diluted version of what I seek)

Princesses in fairytales

Angels

Fairy's (again, not so much Fairycore because it really isn't resonating with my current vision)

This isn't to say you'll never see me reblog a post that has a #fairycore or anything, because I understand that people use hashtags for exposure. But also, that the 'core' versions of this aren't inherently bad! Just that's not the terms I would use to reflect myself.

Sustainability & Anti-consumerism

There's too much shit in the world. I go into H&M for a browse and it's just shitter versions of things that have always existed. For example, there's surely enjoy beige trenchcoats in the world. I recently saw that viral post of some celebrity from the 90's in a fishing jumper and a modern celebrity and like many other people, the quality difference shocked and appalled me.

In saying that and in the name of transparency, I will admit, I did do a Shien order. I feel guilty about this, but I also hope that any readers know that I do about one Shien order a year and it's no more than €100 worth of things. The things I ordered are also pieces that you generally can't get second hand. For example, tights (because they usually get super gross or break.

I am a firm believer that DIY and repair is punk. I don't really like a lot of punk fashion, so I'm not putting it in my list but just know I identify with many of the ideals and that I am striving to incorporate more of it into my life. For example, I've been using invisible repair methods a lot more on my own personal clothes. My family have said that it's pointless because the items I'm repairing cost cents to replace and maybe they have a point, but I find the repair process relaxing and a sign of love.

Finances and Cost

As you'll soon discover, I am not a particularly wealthy individual. For the sake of my privacy, I'll avoid details.

It's easy to say “I want to dress Goth and Victorian” then buy a few designer or custom corsets and call it a day, but I don't quite have that financial privilege.

However, if I budget for certain items that I know I will get excellent use from, I can make it work.

I'm not very good with money. It burns a hole in my pocket, but I'm making a conscious effort to change that. I will be posting reviews of my incoming orders and possibly some of my previous purchases.

Why now?

CW mention of weight loss and some numbers (in regards to sizes) for this section

Note: I will be adding CWs above paragraphs relating to anything weight or body changes related

As it's sure to come up eventually, I'll answer the question. I've been on a weight loss journey starting at about a UK18/US12, I strongly identified as plus size and I'm currently a little more than a UK12/US8 with plans to get down to about a UK8/US4. My old reliables don't fit me, and they won't fit me in the future. So I NEED to buy more things.

I hope to write somewhere about my identity as a plus size woman no longer applying.

Currently, when I am getting dressed and exploring what my wardrobe has to offer, it saddens me. Because I know that a lot of my favourite pieces don't work. I've given many away to good homes but I still miss them.

If I have to turn over a new leaf, I may as well march into the future with ambitious ideas.

Historical fashion is generally very adjustable which as my weight continues to change, I really need.

Because of my low budget and good taste, it doesn't make sense for me to buy things that may not fit me in a few months. This means that most things I buy I either need to be

Ok with getting rid of (ie. Giving away to a good home)

Forgiving fit (eg. Stretchy or 'oversize')

Easy to take in (eg. Adding a fold to a ruffled skirt)

If anyone has any ideas on how to make various items of clothes last, please do let me know and I'll see where I can go with it.

Thanks for reading!

Hopefully, you like it! And if not, then vanish into the abyss or just block me. This blog is mostly just as an outlet for my scatter brain.

[itsseriouslyridiculous]

when I see new tech it results in me feeling terrible.

because it's cool and would be nice to have and if I let myself look into it somehow many people are buying it and owning it. and I can't. every 5 years I can get myself a medium priced electronic but otherwise I don't have the money. and it kinda triggers me I guess.

and I grew up not being able to have anything i wanted at all of I was lucky I'd get some of the things I really really wanted for Christmas or much rarer a birthday. for example my sister and I got a joint present of the my little pony celebration castle one year, it was the biggest most extravagant Christmas present I ever got as a child.

with price inflation I'm sure a few of the christmas gifts I've gotten as an adult cost more than that plastic castle. but it is still a strong memory.

but it's not about how much it costs it's about the wanting. I want things I want them so badly that it makes me tear up. and I don't need them and I used to be so good at evaluating wether something is worth longing for and slowly saving up for. but there is so much now, and it's so shiny and beautiful, and so so so expensive. that I don't know what's even worth it. expensive things aren't guaranteed to be good some expensive things are even really bad quality and it's confusing and there's so many ads and they are so many lieing about the product or showing something I really want and then saying it will cost 3x what I am comfortable paying for it. a tv tray that doesn't let your drink spill? $200 a cellphone that folds? $1700 an OLED monitor with stand? over $3k

when I was a child my great aunts would give me 5 or 10 dollars at Christmas and Easter whichever one they ended up seeing me. and other relatives would sometimes give me some money for my birthday. and I saved that money up until I was able to buy a Nintendo DS lite for myself. it was the first tech I ever owned and it was just amazing.

and I think I still expect ever thing I spend so much money on to be just obviously worth it. and it's killing me.

my credit card balance has been slowly creeping up and up and it's almost maxed. and I'm very distressed and I want to buy everything I see and I'm addicted to spending money but I don't have any and I don't need need things but I want to be a person who has a pretty jacket new winter boots dual monitors a nice couch a feather duvet. who can go to the nice restaurant once a week. I want to be able to buy things that I like and not just the very cheapest ones. I want to be able to buy fresh fruit and veggies whenever I want. and so sometimes I was letting myself pretend. I bought fresh berries every 2 weeks. I bought a winter jacket, I bought myself comfortable.and pretty dresses to wear to school. I replaced my old phone with the newest version, when yeah maybe I should have just bought the cheapest thing available when my old phone stopped being viable, and I know that, and I feel bad about it, because it's not like I even got the phone I really wanted, I didn't get the pro version with the 3 cameras or one of those cool flip phones. and it was on special sale but it was still too much. and so I been treating myself a little sometimes and now I can't anymore.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Hayloft p.4

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though), alcoholism/ drunkenness, mentions of teen pregnancy, mentions of infidelity, murder

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Pretty lightly edited, just a warning

Read the Previous Chapters!

Part 1  Part 2 Part 3

“Hey, hun, what can I getcha?” You leaned into your popped hip, pen and notepad in hand.

A man you hadn’t met before, clearly someone just passing through town, was sitting across the diner bar in a light blue button-up and suspenders. He was fairly clean cut save for the day-old scruff across his face. He studied the menu intensely before setting it down and looking up at you with a sweet-as-pie smile. “Can I please have coffee with some cream and the grits?” He asked with a southern drawl.

You scribbled down his order on the notepad, “That all?”

“Mhm, I think so. Thanks doll.” He slid the menu towards you before reaching for a newspaper that had been left on the counter beside him by the last patron. You turned around to pin the man’s order on the little turnstile for the chef when the little bell on the door rang.

Tucking your notepad back into the apron tied around your waist, you grabbed the pot of coffee from the counter and poured the man a cup of the rich black liquid. Next, you prepared a little ceramic cup of cream and walked back to set them on the counter in front of him. His polite thanks were only the background when you saw Arvin walk behind the man and shoot you a smile before settling down in a seat at the bar only a few seats away.

You walked over to him and leaned on the counter with a smile, “Well, hey there stranger. You on lunch already?”

Arvin nodded, looking to you hopefully, “Yeah ‘n I was hopin’ you might be too so I could grab a bite to eat with my favorite girl.”

“Shh!” You hushed him with exasperated wide eyes, like it should have been obvious that he needed to keep his voice down, because in your mind it was. You nodded your head to the other patrons in the diner. “Y’know word travels fast in little towns like this ‘n I don’t need my daddy findin’ out ‘bout us,” you whispered to Arvin who sighed in annoyed understanding. You knew he wasn’t annoyed at you but the situation was less than ideal.

He tapped his fingers on the counter and his knees bounced under the bar, “So is that a no for lunch?”

You glanced over your shoulder to look at the clock that hung on the wall. It was only eleven in the morning but maybe you could ask Charlene if she could cover so you could take an early lunch. “Let me double check real quick.” You held up a finger to excuse yourself into the back to find your coworker.

No more than ten minutes later, you and Arvin walked out to his car with two take-out boxes of burgers you had managed to swipe from the kitchen in hand. He slid into the driver’s seat while you planted yourself beside him in the passenger’s. You handed him one of the boxes of food before opening your own and

digging into the small handful of fries. “So how is your day going so far?”

Arvin took a large bite of his burger, covering his mouth with his hand has he tried to speak and chew at the same time, “Ain’t too bad. I got an engine to rebuild for an old Ford when I get back but nothin’ too terrible. How ‘bout you?”

“Ready to go home already,” you chuckled, popping a fry in your mouth, “But it ain’t too bad here either. Just would like to not be here.”

Arvin laughed a little beside you, “I know how that feels. Thanks for the burgers by the way. I appreciate it. I don’t want you gettin’ in no trouble for stealin’ food.”

You shrugged off his concern, “Don’t worry ‘bout it. If people don’t eat it, it just goes in the trash anyways. I ain’t gonna get in any trouble.”

He let out a heavy breath, resigning to your insistence, which he really just found an adorable confident stubbornness. A comfortable silence fell over the unmoving car as the two of you ate your lunches in the parking lot. When you finished chewing your bite, you looked over at Arvin, “How long you been livin’ with us?”

Arvin looked up at the brick wall straight ahead in thought, “Maybe five months now. Longer than I meant to-"

"I didn't mean it like that! I was just wonderin'...." you got awkwardly quiet for a moment, "Havin' you 'round has been the best five months in a really really long time."

"For me too. When I came into town, I thought I'd be livin' in my car. Didn't know how lucky I'd be gettin' to live with the most beautiful girl in the world." His hand reached over to your thigh, squeezing lightly.

Even after all of his sweet affections and compliments, they never failed to make your cheeks ache from trying not to blush and smile like a schoolgirl. “You really think flattery will get you somewhere?” you giggled teasingly, turning towards him and nudging his leg with your hand.

“Well it got me in your house so…” He teased back, something that he had been doing more often in the last few weeks. Arvin had never been the most humorous of people, aside from the occasional chuckle or hidden smile. That had been changing since the two of you had gotten closer though.

“Uh, no! It might get you kicked outta my house though if my daddy ever finds out.” It started as chuckle but the words faded into concerned worry as you realized how true they could really be.

Arvin sensed the shift, “You really think your daddy would kick me out if he found out ‘bout us?”

You nodded, “Without a doubt. Would probably throw me out too.” You shifted so you were sitting on your bent leg, suddenly uncomfortable.

He began cautiously, “I mean… would that really be such a bad thing?”

You whipped your head to look at him, “I ain’t got nowhere else to live right now. I been savin’ up for a year to move out but it ain’t enough to buy a place of my own yet.”

“How much you got?”

That number was in your head immediately, one that you kept a running total of with every paycheck. “$4,317.” It wasn’t enough, though, and you knew it. Even the old run down houses around town cost $12,000, which meant you weren’t even halfway to the fixer-uppers, not that you minded buying a fixer upper. “I don’t need a mansion or nothin’ but it ain’t nearly enough for even something small.”

Arvin chewed his lip, thinking about the box of cash he’d been stashing away with each of his paychecks as well. He knew exactly what it was like in your position, struggling to save up the money to get on your own feet. He hated relying on others and, even though he really liked you, he hated depending on your and your father for shelter. “You ain’t gonna be stuck in this ol’ town forever,” he promised you and it came out just like that. A promise. “You’re too good for this place.”

Another smile forced its way onto your face at his words of hope, “I’ll get outta here eventually…”

Suddenly, a familiar male voice yelled your name and you flinched. You turned towards the voice to see your boss, Harold, standing at the backdoor of the diner with his hands on his hips. He gave you a stern look and tapped the watch on his wrist before pointing at you then jabbing his thumb over his shoulder towards the door.

“Shit! I totally lost track of time!” You scrambled to gather up the trash from lunch and stuffed it into the paper bag you’d brought it out in. “I’m sorry, I have to run!”

Arvin had nearly jumped out of his skin when your name had been yelled, the only person he’d ever heard calling you that way being your father. He crumbled up the paper wrapper for his burger and stuffed it in the paper bag for you. “‘M sorry. Didn’t mean to get you in trouble with your boss.”

“Nah, he’s fine,” you waved off the worry dismissively, “He acts all tough but he ain’t nothin’ but a softy.” You opened up the door and began to slide out when you stopped and took a quick glance around. Nobody was in the parking lot, or really anywhere in sight for that matter. In an impulsive swift action, you grabbed Arvin by the collar of his greasy shirt and pulled his lips to yours quickly before pushing him before anyone could see.

He looked stunned, big brown eyes wide and shocked by your courageous kiss. Your heart raced and your cheeks flushed with the exhilaration of actually sneaking a kiss to Arvin in public. It was a dangerous move but your dad was at work and there was nobody else around to see. You tried to hide your excited smile by chewing your bottom lip but it didn’t work. “Thanks for lunch, Arv.”

“Uh - y-yeah. Thank you for the burger.” Arvin stumbled over his words while you slid out of the car and closed the door behind you, leaving the poor boy struggling to make his brain catch up to reality.

“See you at home!” You waved one last time before turning. Arvin watched as you jogged back to the entrance of the diner, your little dress bouncing with every movement. You turned to give him one last glance before you disappeared behind the door.

Work had passed rather uneventfully for you. You put in the last few hours of your shift, went to the grocery store, and then headed home to start on dinner.

Arvin, on the other hand, the rest of his day at work had shaken the good feeling he’d had since his lunch break with you. He had found himself with a wrench in hand, trying to bolt back in the engine he’d been rebuilding for the last few hours. Grease smeared across his shirt, pants, and face despite how hard he tried to keep his dirty hands from ruining his clothes. Even if they were work clothes, he didn’t have that many sets of outfits nor the money to go out and buy more.

“My cousin lives o’er there with his wife. Said the sheriff up and disappeared for a while but they found him dead in the woods.”

Arvin’s head nearly hit the hood of the car that was propped up when he heard those words. He looked over his shoulder to see Davis and Fred, two of the other guys that worked at the mechanics shop, talking over two cans of beer.

“You hear anythin’ ‘bout that, Arvin?” Davis asked, sipping his can.

Arvin’s heart twisted in panic but he shook his head like hadn’t heard what they were talking about, “Hear ‘bout what?”

“Few months back, the sheriff in my cousin’s hometown turned up dead. Someone shot ‘im in the woods outside o’ some small town nearby. His name was like Lodeck or Bodecker or somethin’ like that.” Davis explained the story to both of the guys.

“Eh, pro’lly had it comin’,” Your dad came entered from the storage room with a handful of bolts, “I know I’ve met some sheriffs that deserved a bullet between the eyes.”

Fred rolled his eyes, “Yeah well you’re an angry drunk so I’m sure you’d say that ‘bout anyone who took a drink from you. I’m sure this guy wasn’t that bad. What kinda sick fuck you gotta be to shoot a sheriff? This ain’t no wild west movie where you go gunnin’ down the law.”

“Nah, I heard he was a no good son o’ a bitch. Guess his sister and her husband got murdered the day before. Found tons of pictures o’ them kissin’ on some dead guys. Some real sick shit, Fred. Sheriff might have been in on it too. Regardless, my cousin said he ran into ‘im one time with his wife and the sheriff really was a bastard,'' Davis shrugged off Fred’s comment, refuting the tragedy Fred was trying to make Bodecker’s death by tarnishing his name.

Arvin’s heart was racing and he began to feel dizzy. The images of those few days had haunted him since they had happened but he had found himself thinking about it less and less as the days passed.

“Arvin?”

Arvin shook his head out of the clouds and snapped back into reality, “What?”

“You came into town ‘round the same time all this happened. Did you hear anythin’ about it?” Fred questioned, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans.

The young man just shook his head, “Nah, I ain’t heard nothin’ ‘bout it till now. I heard ‘bout the sister though. Sounds like she and her boyfriend were no good.”

“You know what I think?” Your dad began, picking up a wrench and pointing it in Arvin’s direction, “I think our man Arvin here did the sheriff in!”

Arvin stiffened up, “What? Why would you think that?”

“You come strollin’ along through town with nothin’ but a backpack and no backstory ‘bout the same time four people turn up murdered. Mighty suspicious.” Arvin tried his hardest to stand tall and not allow his fear to show but the tension in his jaw was bordering of painful now.

Davis swatted at your dad, “C’mon, leave the boy alone. There’s gotta be thousands of people in that area that coulda murdered them. Can’t imagine Arvin doin’ such a thing.”

Arvin was grateful for Davis’s trust. If only he deserved it.

“I’m only jokin’! Y’all a bunch of whiny little girls, can’t take a fuckin’ joke.” Your dad grumbled to himself, swatting his hand towards his coworkers.

“Ah, shut up.” Fred stood up from the table he’d been sitting at and laid back down on the dolley before sliding under the jacked up Chevy he had been tasked with. “Ain’t nobody ‘round here takes you seriously.”

Arvin watched as your dad walked past Fred, kicking him in the leg and earning a loud exclamation of annoyance, but it was as if he were disconnected from the whole scene. He had tried so hard to forget what had happened back in Knockemstiff and Coal Creek, though it seemed damn near impossible considering it had uprooted his entire life. This tiny town a few hours away was his safe haven, his new beginning. He never would have imagined that anyone this far away would have heard about the murders.

Hearing Davis and Fred bring up Bodecker’s name made Arvin’s blood turn to ice in his veins. What kinda sick fuck you gotta be to shoot a sheriff? Fred’s words played over and over in Arvin’s head. This was just what he was worried about. This was why he ran. Nobody would believe Bodecker was trying to kill him first. Self defense didn’t mean shit when it was against the law. The same with Reverend Teagarden. A man of the word? Arvin didn’t stand a chance if anyone found out what he’d done.

“Hey son,” Davis’s soft voice made Arvin nearly jump out of his skin, “Don’t take nothin’ that ol’ man says to heart. I’m sure you know since you been livin’ with him that he’s just a cranky ol’ drunk who don’t know when to shut up. You’re a good kid, Arvin. Ain’t none of us actually think you did it.”

Arvin looked down at where Davis’s hand rested on his shoulder, the same way his dad used to touch his shoulder when he was reassuring him. He forced a small appreciative nod and a strained appearance of being unbothered, “It’s alright, Davis. I know he’s just kiddin’ ‘round. I ‘ppreciate it though.”

_

Your father arrived at home before Arvin, much to your dismay. Elvis Presley’s Blue Hawaii album was spinning on the record player when he came into the kitchen, kicking his boots off by the door.

“Hey, daddy! How was work?” You asked, mashing a bowl of potatoes for dinner.

He made a line directly to the fridge, grabbing a beer and popping the tab off with no effort, “It was alright. Damn Gilligan blew out the transmission on his truck so I been stuck fixin’ that up all day. Lookin’ forward to this right here.” Your father lifted up the beer bottle and sipped it with satisfaction. Yeah, I’m sure you were, you thought, rolling your eyes with your back turned to your dad.

“Well, if you wanna get cleaned up, dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes. More than enough time for a shower,” you offered with a cheerful voice. Lunch with Arvin today had made your day good in a way that was hard to ruin.

“Yeah, I might go do that. What’s for dinner?” Your father walked over and peeked over your shoulder to see what you had cooking on the stove.

“Mashed potatoes, green beans, and chicken.” You cut in a few slices of butter and added them to the bowl of mashed potatoes, sprinkling some salt, pepper, and garlic powder to taste.

Expecting some words of discouragement like you usually earned from your father, he just nodded contently and disappeared out of the kitchen towards the bathroom. You turned to watch him walk away, your mouth fallen open in pleased surprise at the fact that you just had a semi-pleasant interaction with your father for the first time in several weeks. You turned back to mixing in the now melted butter into the mashed potatoes when the front door opened yet again.

You looked back to see Arvin walking in through the living room, “Hey, Arv!”

His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and judging by the way his eyes shot up to you, as if he hadn’t expected your greeting, he had been staring at the ground when he walked in. “Hi,” he answered low and short with no emotion one way or the other.

Your brows furrowed, “Everythin’ alright?” Leaving the food on the counter and wiping your hands on your apron, you walked out into the living room towards him.

Arvin visibly took a step back and his eyes widened a little, his shoulders squaring up, “Yeah, ‘m good. Just wanna take a shower.”

Before you could get the words out, he had already begun walking away. “My dad’s already in the bathroom,” you called out after him, finally getting him to stop.

Arvin didn’t turn back to you though, only half glanced over his shoulder, “Oh, alright.” He turned back to continue his walk back to his room.

“Dinner will be ready soon!” You attempted to add, only earning a small thanks in response and the sound of Arvin’s door closing. “O-oh… okay.” You stood alone in the living room, the sound of running water coming from the bathroom and Elvis Presley’s voice filling the room but not loud enough to drown out your concern.

Dinner went by just as uncomfortably. You poked at your mashed potatoes, keeping your gaze stuck down at the food on your plate except for when you glanced over at Arvin who seemed to be actively looking anywhere except for you. This only made you roll your eyes out of frustration and stare back down at your food.

Your dad talked about his day, mostly grumbled complaints, “I don’t get nearly ‘nough respect ‘round here. Damn Fred and Davis callin’ me a drunk. What? A man can’t enjoy a damn beer without being called a drunk! Damn prudes.” When you didn’t respond, he reached over and tapped your arm, “Hey? You even listenin’?”

“Hm?” You tried to make yourself focus on what he was saying this time, “Sorry, long day. What happened?”

“See? I ain’t get no respect at work and I can’t even get no respect at my own damn house from my own damn daughter!” He grumbled, the feet of the wooden chair scraping against the ground as he stood up forcefully, swaying a little side to side but bracing himself on the wall to walk out of the room.

You didn’t even possess the mental capacity to care about his little tantrum. Your mind was swimming with confusion and, honestly, anger, at Arvin’s little unexplained silent treatment. “Okay, what’s wrong?” You asked, leaning towards Arvin.

“Nothin’.” He answered simply, taking a sip of his water. His voice was low and he still refused to make eye contact, despite nothin’ being wrong.

“That’s a lie. Everythin’ was fine this mornin’ and now you’re suddenly not talkin’ to me. Won’t even look at me! What the hell, Arvin? Did I say somethin’ wrong?” Thinking back, there wasn’t anything you had said earlier that you could imagine warranting such a negative response from Arvin so your confusion and concern had quickly turned to frustration.

Arvin shook his head, “No, no, you ain’t did nothin’ wrong.”

“Then what is it?” You practically begged him to tell you. You hated being upset at him when clearly something was bothering him but this felt like he was just playing some broody guessing game with you, something you got enough of from your dad.

Stress shone through Arvin’s eyes and he met your gaze finally, if only for a second, before looking away again. You could see there was a flicker of something you hadn’t seen in him before but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Whatever it was, it was really bothering him and you felt guilty for being upset. You just couldn’t understand why you suddenly were being ignored for something that apparently had nothing to do with you.

“I can’t tell you.”

Arvin’s admittal just made you more upset. “So you’re not mad at me but you’re ignoring me and can’t tell me why?”

Arvin hadn’t seen you look at him this way. At your father, yes, but he was unaccustomed to that raised eyebrow and frustratedly desperate crack in your voice being directed towards him. He hated it. He hated knowing that he was causing you to feel upset and helpless when he was supposed to be your escape from those exact feelings.

But he couldn’t bring himself to tell you the truth. You’d think he was a monster. You’d hate him. He’d lose the one good thing he had in his life because-

Arvin shook his head, “‘M sorry.” He looked anywhere but at you because he couldn’t stand to see the way your face fell, though he could practically feel your heart fall from across the table. He didn’t need to see it. He knew.

“Fine.” You stood up and grabbed your plate, scraping the rest in the garbage and setting the plate in the sink. Your appetite was gone and your patience had snapped, not that you had been the most patient thus far anyways.

Arvin watched as you stormed out of the kitchen, grabbed your coat off the coat rack by the front door, and walked out of the house. His head hit his hands. No matter how hard he tried to protect those he cared about, he only seemed to hurt them more.

-

You hadn’t expected Arvin to find you here so when the door opened to the old barn, you turned around in surprise. You were curled up in your coat, sitting on an old wooden crate that had been untouched in this unused barn for God knows how long. A large window looked out over the large field that had once been the family farm but was now practically a glorified dirt lot. Your coat was wrapped tightly around your body, held in place with one hand while you held a lit cigarette with the other.

“Didn’t know you smoked,” Arvin took a few steps in, his hands shoved guiltily in the pocket of his denim jacket.

You blew out a large plume of smoke that you had been holding in and looked away, “I don’t too often.”

Arvin closed the barn door behind him as he approached you and you had to fight the urge to get up and leave but you knew that made you no less immature than the way you felt he was acting.

“‘M sorry. I really am.”

You took another drag and turned to him, the moonlight illuminating his features - somehow so boy-like but so rugged - and it was hard to stay mad at him. “I am too. I don’t mean to be dramatic but I just… I don’t understand, Arv. If somethin’s wrong, you can tell me. This whole silent treatment BS with zero explanation doesn’t cut it.”

Arvin let out a heavy breath. While doing the dishes from dinner for you after you stormed off, he had had time to contemplate what to do. And he had decided. “If I tell you, it’s gonna change how you look at me.”

Your head tilted up at his cryptic opener but you said nothing, only urged him to continue with your eyes.

With a deep shaky inhale, he started his story, “I ain’t a bad man but I’ve done some bad things. Things that I thought I could run away from. I been livin’ a lie for a long time, actin’ like I ain’t hurt nobody, but it ain’t true.” Arvin paused for a moment to gauge your reaction and all he saw was fear in your eyes, just as he had feared.

A million thoughts of terrible things people were capable of ran through your head as you tried to figure out which one Arvin could possibly be guilty of, though they all felt so out of character for him. Was it murder? Assault? Rape? Thievery? The man you had come to care for so deeply now swam in a murky pool of doubt and distrust. Arvin saw all this and more in your deep, worried eyes.

“What did you do?” Your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be, cracking with fear. Until today, you hadn’t imagined Arvin capable of doing anything that could real harm to anyone, maybe aside from a stupid fight in high school or something along those lines, but you could see it in his eyes that whatever it was he was trying to confess to really was that bad.

Arvin lost his ability to speak for a moment. He had resolved to tell you everything before even coming out here to talk to you but the fear shining in your eyes already had his heart breaking. It was as if every new line of moonlight reflecting off the growing whites of your eyes was a new stain that he managed to tarnish your view of him with. Arvin had to look away because he couldn’t bear to look at you when he finally admitted his crimes, couldn’t stand to watch your face contort in fear when you realized what a monster he was.

“Y-you remember that preacher I told you ‘bout? The one that hurt my sister?”

You nodded, “Y-yeah…”

Arvin swallowed hard and he gripped his thigh tight enough to turn his knuckles white. “Well few weeks after we buried Lenora, a police officer came up ‘n told me the coroner had found out she was havin’ a baby. None of us knew before. I don’t know how but I just knew it was that no good preacher. I didn’t have any proof though so I started followin’ ‘im ‘n found out he was worse than I thought. He was no good to his wife ‘n I saw him out takin' advantage of another girl in town who was even younger than my Lenora was. He was doin’ nothin’ but hurtin’ people ‘n I… I killed im.”

Your mouth fell open, “You- You killed him?”

Arvin looked down at his feet, “I shot him.”

It was silent as you processed the information. This preacher sounded like a terrible man, abusing young girls and leading one to commit suicide. The infidelity to his wife was a moot point against his other indiscretions and even that was unacceptable. It honestly sounded like Arvin had done a service to the world, taking this monster out of it, but it was still difficult to look at him the same after knowing that he had actually shot someone.

When you didn’t respond, Arvin had decided to continue, not thinking he could cause much more damage, “I ran. Left a note for my grandma and uncle and disappeared. I tried hitchhiking my way out of town when I got picked by this couple. They seemed nice ‘nough at first but the husband, he started actin’ real weird. They pulled us way off the road. Said he wanted to take some pictures but then I saw him pull out a gun and then he tried pullin’ me outta the car. I-I panicked and I kicked the door into him ‘n I shot ‘im before he could get me.”

Arvin’s voice was cracking as tears began to fall down his face. It was one thing to replay the memories in his own head but it was another thing entirely to actually confess his sins to someone he cared so deeply about, knowing the truth would most likely hurt you. “The wife, she pulled out a gun and pointed it at me ‘n I pointed mine at her. I begged her to put the gun down. I-I didn’t wanna shoot her. I really didn’t. I was so tired of killin’ but then she apologized ‘n I knew she was gonna pull the trigger. We both shot at the same time. I got no clue how she didn’t shoot me. I fell out the car without a scratch but I when I got up, I realized I got her through the neck 'n she was gone. I panicked ‘n searched the car. Found all these pictures of her all naked and huggin’ up on some naked dead guy ‘n I knew… I knew I was gonna be next.”

Your brain sprinted a mile a minute to try and keep up with the trauma Arvin was confessing and you didn’t know whether to hug him and let him cry on you or run as far away as possible.

“Then-”

“There’s more?” You wanted to beg him to stop talking, to stop telling you about the blood on his hands, to stop telling you about all the suffering he had been through. You sounded shocked and heartbroken and yet none of these tragedies were yours.

Arvin hiccuped and sniffled in a failed attempt to hide a sob. Red had taken over his features, both physically and metaphorically. Obviously distraught by his past and now your reaction, he felt like he was beginning to spiral down that hole of darkness that he had tried so hard to claw his way out of. There were nothing but snakes down there, ready to bite him and poison his mind with the words he had fought so desperately to keep out. Murderer. Stalker. Liar. Sinner. All of these and so many more.

Yet, he nodded, feeling as if he’d still be lying if he didn’t finish telling you everything. When he nodded, you made a small squeak of disbelief.

“I-I ran,” He sniffled out, “I hitchhiked my way back to my old hometown. I didn’t know why at first but I just needed to go home. Felt like maybe I could fix what had been broken there. Went there to find it all burnt down but then this sheriff came lookin’ after me. Turns out he was that lady’s brother - the one who shot at me and had the pictures of the cut up dead guys. He was all angry and wanted to kill me for shootin’ his sister. I tried… I tried to tell ‘im that she was no good and that she was gonna kill me but he didn’t wanna listen. He was shootin’ at me and… and… I ain’t had no choice.”

It was silent, aside from the ambient bugs chirping outside. You had tried so hard to focus on Arvin’s face but you had long since zoned out visually, only able to focus on the words he was saying. How could he have gone through all of this? How could your wonderful, amazing, beautiful Arvin Russell have survived so much suffering and been forced to murder people? Murder.

“Please say somethin’.”

Your lips quivered as your vision came back into view and all you saw was a tearful, fearful, remorseful boy before you on the brink of falling apart. Arvin’s hair was messy from having run his hands through it, his eyes were red and puffy from the tears, his breathing was shaky from remembering. There were no words.

You threw your arms around his neck and held him tightly to you. You didn’t know what else to do. How does someone respond to information like this? There was so much trust that Arvin needed to put in you to tell you - you couldn’t freak out.

“You don’t hate me?” His hands flew to your arms, prying them off his neck so he could see your face.

Your head shook, “How could I hate you for what you did?”

“I murdered four people.”

“You took out a disgusting predator who practically killed your sister and was harming who knows how many other girls. Then you killed a couple of murderers who pulled guns on you first in self defense. And then, yet again, you were put in a life or death situation with a sheriff who was shootin’ at you for killin’ his murderin’ sister. Three of those were self defense and I’d dare say that first one was a public service. You have nothin’ to be sorry for. You have nothin’ to regret. You did what you had to do to survive.” You squeezed Arvin’s hands tightly, running your soft thumbs over the lightly calloused skin of his knuckles.

Arvin looked down at your hands on his, hands that were so much smaller than his own but right now felt so encompassing and comforting, as if they wrapped his own in a blanket of protection. He couldn’t believe you were okay with this. He was barely okay with it. “I don’t regret it but I didn’t wanna have to do it. If I coulda let that lady go, if she only woulda listened to me ‘n put the gun down I wouldn’t o’ had to pull the trigger. I coulda let the cops deal with it. Same with the sheriff. If only he woulda listened… I only wanted to shoot the preacher. I was okay with havin’ that on my conscience. But I had no idea how outta control that day was gonna get. All those cold dead eyes starin’ up at you, watchin’ the life drain from someone’s face ‘n knowin’ you’re the one who caused that... Even if they were real fucked up people, it ain’t a sight that’s easy to see.”

“I can’t even imagine what it must’ve been like, Arvin.” Your hand slid up his arm to rest on his bicep and you leaned your forehead onto his shoulder. His arm snaked around your body and held you close but cautious, like he was scared if he held you too tightly that you’d be scared he’d hurt you too. Of course, you weren’t. The thought did cross your mind that perhaps it was unwise to trust a man who just admitted to killing four people but that wasn’t Arvin and you knew it. “You may have killed people but that does not make you a killer. You’re just someone who was put in some really hard situations and had to make some tough choices.”

You pulled back and put your hand on his cheek, slightly scratchy from not shaving that day, and you spoke gently, “You are wonderful, Arvin. You are caring and hard working and loyal and willing to stand up for what is right. You are everything good in this world-”

“I hurt people-”

“You protect people,” you corrected, “‘N if some bad people had to get hurt to keep the good ones safe, well maybe they shouldn’t have been such bad people.”

Arvin could have melted into a puddle at your feet, and likely would have if you hadn’t been holding him. Never had he expected to tell anyone his terrible deeds and in every imagined scenario in which he did, it had never ended well. He had imagined you running for the hills, screaming at him to get out, maybe even threatening him physically out of fear that he’d hurt you now (which he’d never dream of doing).

But you didn’t do any of that. Gentleness and understanding were far from the reaction he’d expected or even felt like he deserved but nevertheless here you were holding him and reassuring him that he wasn’t the monster he’d called himself for so many months.

“I love you.”

His admission surprised you but Arvin felt fully confident in his words. He had never known what love felt like - romantic love at least - but this was damn near the closest thing he could imagine to it. You occupied his thoughts every waking moment, your face and your voice swimming around his imagination in a beautiful ocean of warmth and kindness and goodness that he would gladly drown in. You were strong and responsible and understanding and oh so beautiful. Much like him, you’d been handed a shit hand by life and struggled each day to make the best of it. Arvin cared about you so much it scared him because he had not felt this compulsion towards anyone since Lenora had passed. After losing everything he’d ever loved, he was scared that if he admitted that he loved you, life would take you away from him as well. If there was one thing that you did, though, it was take away Arvin’s fear.

“I love you too, Arvin.” He pulled your body flush against his when you responded, a heavy sigh of relief leaving his chest. Much like Arvin, you hadn’t known what real love felt like. You’d even started believing that maybe you weren’t meant for such a luxury.

Now you and Arvin felt like the richest people in the world, despite having almost nothing to your names. As long as you were in each others’ arms, you had everything. You were each others’ trust, honesty, comfort, compassion, and protection.

_______

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[yn-dere]

GRAPPLE • YAN!M.YG

Little drabble #5

As I took another swig of my scotch, letting the bitter tang slowly melt into my mouth.. I abruptly discovered how alone I truly am and suddenly the alcohol wasn't the only burning sensation I felt. I could've swore that droplets on my hand were from my leaking grotty ceiling if it weren't for my blurry vision. I simply let my tears drop into my beverage as no one was here to judge.

Alone. I always wanted to be left alone. Not only was I not fond of people in general (that hasn't changed), I also relished in the power I felt as the lone wolf. The guy that lives next door who never talks, the guy that you've never seen smile, the guy in all black looking like he's about to rob a store any second, the guy who snickers at the children when they play too loud outside, the guy that etc etc... you get my point. As much as it was clear that my neighbors didn't like me, their fear made me feel like a maverick. In a way, I was also trying to fit into the presumptions they had of me even before they knew me. If only they knew how sensitive I can be. Either extremely dissociated or too emotionally invested. A true pisces. Wasn't one into astrology but she was.

Her. It's only been three minutes and I'm already thinking of her? Guess even the harsh drinks won't help your pompous narrator here. Anyway, she was the one who made me realize that we don't chase things, we chase the emotions it brings us. I chase shots but I don't enjoy being a raging alcoholic. These intoxicants are the only thing that help me cope and carry on. I chased her because I truly believed that having her as mine would bring me euphoria. Maybe I was right. I didn't enjoy being in love with her.

I didn't enjoy feeling like I can't even breathe each time she looked at me, like I was going to suffocate. I didn't enjoy daydreaming about her as I would get too carried away and it would end up hampering my work. Did not enjoy being crazy paranoid that she would find someone else, someone better. I didn't enjoy becoming weaker as each day, month, year passed by. I didn't enjoy feeling my walls chip away, my strong facade slowly turning transparent. I don't enjoy being as much in love as I was years ago and still being about to recall every little thing she did, even if it lasted for a milisecond.

The way she had her hair over one shoulder when it was a little too warm outside, the way she only wore dresses, the way she had a constant pout even when she was happy. She was a little too obsessed with her hands, always paying more attention to them rather than what was happening around her. She loved every new trendy artist that came around only to slowly loose interest. She would always forget to wear a jacket outside so her friend would have a spare one in her car at all times. The little anklet she had on would jingle, letting you identify who was coming even before you saw her figure. I can go on and on about my love but I'd rather not. It would not only bore you to death but I would also be weeping by the end of it. Am I pathetic? Don't answer that.

Lastly, I don't enjoy living in this one bedroom shabby apartment but I can't afford to live in that nice neighborhood I once did because I spent all of my money buying her gifts that costed a fortune. I also lost my job a few days after I lost her. So many sacrifices..

God knows I tried hard. That's one lesson I've learned. There's a fine line between trying to get it and grappling it. The more you try to grapple it, the harder it gets to get it. Whether it be happiness, peace of mind, love. If only I could go back to the day I met her... that one and only fateful day I actually had the courage to talk her. If I was a coward that day just like I had always been and somehow talked myself out of confessing to her.. I wouldn't have lost her.

Wait a minute, who's ringing the bell at this ungodly hour?

"Min yoongi, you are under arrest for the rape and murder of Y/L/N Y/N five years ago. Get your hands behind your back and do not try anything."

As I was saying, the harder you try to grapple the thing that you want.. the larger the distance between you becomes. It might even cause you forcefully clutch it even more. It has consequences that you won't be able to undo even if you tried, and trust me.. I tried

(I was prompted to write this when I saw some people glorifying stalking behavior. Most stalkers do not stay stalkers, they get more and more confident as time goes on and no, it probably won't end up with them kidnapping you and everything turning into a Stockholm syndrome romance manga. What yoongs did in this story is more realistic and happens quite frequently so stay safe, love.)

[d-noona]

MAKE OVER

Chapter 5: Jeon Jungkook

Jung Hoseok x Reader

Reader as Kang Hyeonji

SUMMARY: When Kang Hyeonji transformed herself into a striking redhead, the entire male population of Seoul stood up and took notice. But her make over was for Jung Hoseok’s benefit alone. He began to show interest in the new look but not in the way she wanted. Suddenly he was over-protective, perhaps a little jealous. It seemed that the idea of having a relationship with her couldn’t be further from his mind. The girl however wants more. So it was time for an ultimatum. If Hoseok didn’t want Hyeonji to lose her virginity to another admirer, he had no option but to make love to her himself.

Choon Hee grabbed her the moment she walked into the library, and dragged her down to the privacy of the back room. "I'm dying of curiosity," she said, quite unnecessarily, since her whole body language reeked of a breathless tension. "Did you doll yourself up like we told you to? Did you wear the perfume? Did you knock glamour boy for six when he came to pick you up?"

Hyeonji had thought about what she would tell the girls this morning. She'd walked more slowly to work than usual, mulling over whether she should lie or not. Now the moment of truth was at hand, and despite Choon Hee's eager face Hyeonji could not bring herself to make up a story.

"No I didn't doll myself up," she confessed, with a wealth of apology in her voice. "I didn't wear the perfume either, though it was a lovely though, Choon hee and I do thank you and Han Byeol for it. And as I'm sure you've guessed...no, I didn't knock Hoseok for six when he came to pick me up."

Choon Hee exhaled a huge sigh of disappointment. "Oh, Hyeonji! How many chances like that do you think you're going to get?"

"Actually, last night wasn't a total disaster. Hobi did notice at last how much weight I'd lost. He also told me I had a nice figure and good legs...for someone so short."

"He did? Wow! You must have been thrilled to bits" she says.

"It's not quite good as it sounds," Hyeonji said ruefully, then went on to tell Choon Hee exactly how the compliments had come about. She listened intently, her eyes rounding further with each new revelation. "You mean he thinks you're in love with someone else? This guy he dubbed as Mr. X?"

"Uh-huh..." Hyeonji nodded.

"And he told you how to dress so that you would be more attractive for another man?"

Hyeonji again nods.

"I'd like to strangle him with my bare hands!" says choon Hee in annoyance.

"Don't blame Hobi. I forced him into it." Hyeonji automatically defends her best friend. "Rubbish! That man is a blind fool! Oh, poor baby."

"Not poor baby, at all Choon Hee," she returned with a very firm resolve. "Because I'm going to do it. Follow all of Hoseok's suggestions. But not for him, I'm going to do it for myself." She smiled at her friend. Choon Hee snickered at Hyeonji "Go on with you! You're not!"

"Yes I am"

"You're going to cut your hair short and dye it red?" as choon Hee's eyes grew rounder in shock. "For starters. So do you happen to know a good hairdresser who doesn't cost the earth? Also where I might find a make-up expert who gives free advice and tuition?"

Choon Hee's dark eyes twinkled with excitement "I certainly do. But gosh, Hyeonji, whatever is your mother going to say?" Hyeonji wasn't sure. But she would find out that evening. To be honest, the prospect was a daunting one. It wasn't like her to make waves. Or to do something as bold as this. But she was determined to change herself, and her life...whatever the cost.

Fortunately, she had a few bucks placed away for emergencies –and which she would use for her first visit to the hairdresser, and some make-up. Still, if she was to find enough money from their tight budget for regular visits to the hairdresser and a whole new wardrobe, then some changes would have to be made to their day-to-day lifestyle.

Her own salary was almost totally eaten up with the two mortgages her father had taken out shortly before he died, and her mother's pension barely covered their living expenses and other bills, with little left over for luxuries.

Hyeonji waited till after dinner before she brought up her plan for her future, and was not really surprised when her mother reacted badly. "But why do you want to change yourself so dramatically?" Zil asked in a tremulous voice. "I don't understand. This isn't like you at all!"

"Mum," Hyeonji returned patiently, "I'm twenty-three and I have not had one single steady boyfriend in my life. I do not want to become an old maid. I want to get married one day and have a family of my own. To get married I need a man, and to get a man I need to do something about attracting one."

"It's not any man you want to attract, missie,"came her waspish accusation. "It's Jung Hoseok. You were perfectly happy till you went out with him last night and now you've got all these silly ideas in your head."

"They are not silly ideas," Hyeonji said more sternly. "Yes I do have feelings for Hoseok. I always have had. I won't deny it. But you were right when you said he'd never fall in love with me, he thinks of me as a kid sister. But that doesn't mean I'm going to spend the rest of my life pinning after him. Since men don't exactly come flocking to my door, I aim to get out and about a bit more, and I aim to look darned good when I do so. Looking good costs money, which brings me to my first suggestion. What do you think about selling this house and buying something smaller? The mortgages are killing us."

Her mother gave her a truly horrified look. "Oh, no! No, no, no! I love this house. It's all I have. You can't ask that of me. You can't!"

Hyeonji relented and moved straight to plan B. To be honest she hadn't really wanted to sell. As much as she'd told both Choon Hee and her mother that these radical changes were for herself, she still wanted to see Hoseok's reaction to the finished product. Silly of her perhaps but a fact. "Okay, forget selling," she said briskly. "My alternative suggestion is that we advertise for a boarder."

"A boarder!"

"Yes. We have four bedrooms in this house, Mum, two of which are never used, the master bedroom being one of them. You could get money for that room. It has an en suite, a dressing room and lots of space." As Hyeonji tries to debate with her mother. "Oh, but I couldn't have some strange man living in your father's house and sleeping in his bed!"

Hyeonji prayed for more patience. Her mother's devotion to her father had increased considerably since his death. Couldn't he remember what a selfish bastard he'd been? How he'd wasted all her inheritance from her parents on one stupid get-rich schemes? Worst of all, how he'd often come home late, smelling of booze and cheap perfume?

"You don't have to have a male boarder, Mum. I'm sure there are plenty of widows around your age who need accommodation. It would be company for you as well," Hyeonji pointed out. "I am not going to be at home as much as I used to be."

Zil opened her mouth to protest again, then closed it, her expression petulant. She looked like a sulky child sitting there. Hyeonji felt sorry for her but knew she had to make a stand or her future would be as dull and dreary as she'd been fearing. "Do I have your agreement to put up an add next Wednesday's paper?"

The following day Hyeonji did what she was set out to do, though bombarded with the previous argument she had with her mother, who is still insisting on not getting any boarders, Hyeonji was persistent.

"I can't believe it's me!" Hyeonji exclaimed delightedly. "You're a genius, Taehyung!"

The hairdresser's smile carried a delicious satisfaction. "I must admit I have outdone myself this time!"

Hyeonji beamed anew at this striking and sophisticated-looking creature who was staring back at her in the mirror. She turned her head from side to side and watched the smooth coppery cap shimmer and sway and fall perfectly back into place. "This particular cut will give your hair body and style," Taehyung had pronounced reassuringly while he proceeded to shape her hair while layering the top concentric circles of from her crown. Hyeonji now had a stylish fringe down to her eyebrows, the effect being to diminish the size of her face and nose, and highlight her deeply set hazel brown eyes.

The new coppery color besides being eye-catching in itself, was a perfect foil for her pale skin, giving it a translucency and delicacy which has been lost against her mousy brown hair. When Hyeonji stood up she saw delightedly that the clean lines made her neck look longer and even more elegant.

"You look really different, I mean you're such a babe. If I weren't gay and totally in love with my partner Jimin, honey. I'd bring you home." The hairdresser said, shaking his head admiringly. "Taller too."

Hyeonji chuckles at Taehyung. "Yeah, I think you're right. I do look different," Hyeonji said excitedly. "Oh, Taehyung how could I ever thank you? It was so kind of you to fit me in your schedule tonight."

"It was my pleasure. Now how are you going to get home?" Taehyung asked once Hyeonji had handed the money. "I'll walk it's not that far." Taehyung lived less than a block from the library, which was only a fifteen-minute walk from her house. Taehyung frowned. "Do you think that's wise? It's Friday night, you know."

"What do you mean?" she asked inquisitively.

"People let their hair down on a Friday night around here. You'll have to walk past the bar on your way home, won't you?" says Taehyung. "Yes" Hyeonji responds.

"Then you better watch yourself. You're not exactly inconspicuous with that new red hair you know." Taehyung's warning startled Hyeonji. She'd never been hassled by unwanted male attention in all her life and simply could not anticipate that a mere change in hair color would create trouble for her, especially when she was still dressed in her library uniform.

But she was wrong.

She'd just passed the tavern and was halfway along the past stretch which followed the railway line when a hotted-up Chevie full of less than savory individuals rumbled by. "Hey babe!" one of them called out.

Hyeonji averted her eyes and crossed the road as soon as they passed by, then nearly died when she heard the tires screech as the driver executed a U-turn. Before she could blink, the car was cruising along next to her and an obviously drunk, loud-mouther lout was leaning out of the passenger window in her direction.

"Where you going baby?" he said breathing beer fumes in her way. "Wanna ride?"

She quickened her step and kept her eyes straight ahead. "What's the matter? You think you're too good for us? Fellas, you think we should teach Madam here a lesson or two?"

Her mouth dry with fear, Hyeonji was just about to run for it when a sleek black car shot around the Chevie and pulled up dead. The driver of the Chevie had to brake hard to avoid a collision and the man hanging by the passenger window almost tipped out onto the road. When a tall dark haired man dressed in black jumped out from behind the wheel of the black car and began stalking back towards Hyeonji's verbal assailant, the man shouted something and scrambled back into the vehicle, spun around and roared off.

Her savior curved his big hands over her shaking shoulders and peered down over her pale face. "You all right there miss?" he said. It was only then that Hyeonji recognized the identity of her rescuer.

It was Jeon Jungkook.

"Yes I think so," Hyeonji says in a breathless hush. "Thank you so much for stopping, Jungkook." His surprise at her for knowing his name was obvious in the jerking back of his head, and the widening of his dark eyes. Hyeonji would've gratified if she hadn't still been shaking like a leaf. "It's Hyeonji," she said "Kang Hyeonji"

"Hyeonji?" His startled gaze lifted to her hair, then swiftly ran down her body and up again. "Good Lord, it is you. I didn't recognize you with that stunning hair, and you've lost weight too, haven't you?"

"A little..."

His smile took on a knowing edge as he looked at her up and down again. "More than a little. You're looking fantastic. Too fantastic to be walking down these streets at night on your own. No wonder you almost got yourself into trouble. Come on, I'll drive you home."

After her frightening experience with those creeps Hyeonji wasn't about to refuse. She wouldn't have been human either, if she hadn't been flattered by Jungkook's compliments by her appearance, and by the way he kept looking at her.

His touch seemed gentle and solicitous as he helped her into the passenger side of his roomy black sedan, but when he sashed the seatbelt into place for her Hyeonji was quite sure his left hand deliberately brushed over the tips of her breasts. She stiffened inside but said nothing, ignoring his attempt to make eye contact at the same time. Creeps came in various forms she thought ruefully. It was obvious that outright rape wasn't his thing. Silky smooth seductions and one night stands where his forte. He would use his golden tongue to talk his way into a girl's bed. Hyeonji decided not to get carried away with Jungkook's words of praise. She didn't doubt she looked better with her new hairdo, but she wasn't competition for Tinashe just yet.

They were only a minute away from her home by car, but Jungkook didn't waste a second, bombarding her with questions designed to elicit the only information from a female he would want to know. How old was she exactly, where did she work these days. Did she have a boyfriend? Unfortunately Hyeonji didn't realize where Jungkook was heading till she told him several truths with naïve honesty.

As soon as he pulled up the curve outside her house, he turned and asked her if she would like to come out for a drink with him later that night. "I could pick you up at say...ten thirty?"

Hyeonji might've been inexperienced with men but she knew that to agree with such invitation at that hour of the night was to agree to more than just a drink. She didn't doubt that she'd get a drink. Plenty of them. And all of them alcoholic. Then, when she was suitably plastered Jungkook would take her back to his orgy palace for a night of raw naked sex. The very thought of Jungkook naked gave Hyeonji chills down her spine. He had a great body, facially he was very handsome, no doubt a lot of women fancied his darkly macho appearance with that playboy bunny smile of his, but Hyeonji preferred Hoseok's fairer more elegant looks.

Her favorite fantasy always included running her hands through his silky black hair and over his smooth chest. It turned her on just to imagine touching his body, whereas the thought of touching Jungkook's made her skin crawl.

"Thank you Jungkook," she said politely "For everything, but I'm sorry I can't. Not tonight."

To give him credit he took the rejection well. His black eyes glittered with undeniable confidence as he smiled over at her. "That's all right, another time maybe?"

"Perhaps," not wanting to be rude to her rescuer. "I'll call you," he said then started the engine and left.

Chapter 06

Masterlist

[megacommerce]

How I fired my boss and began making money online and the top 5 reasons I fired my boss

 Believe what's in front of your face!

 Does anyone else understand that the job duties are stressful and that the long term returns are small? What about the job burnout?

How many committed workers do you know living the dream with their social security checks? How about those living on disability checks?

(Here is an article on how to live on just a social security check)

Okay, so let me tell you how I fired my boss this week!

It all happened on a dreaded Monday morning. I was initially tired from running my business over the weekend. I woke up, said my prayers, did my hygiene, and got dressed for work.

Before I could walk out the door I turned to look at my husband and children, I asked my husband, "If I quit this job today do you think I'll be better off in business?", he said yes.

I took the moment to tell myself that I'd never second guess my time again, so I called the job and told my general manager that I was never coming into work again and that I would now run my business full time from here (home)!

I'm not sure whether she was shocked, disappointed, or proud, but all she said was, "I need your badge". No, 'fare well', no, 'best of luck', just a dry and lifeless desire to retrieve my badge.

At that moment I realized that a job was not for me or even most people. To take it a step further, I'll say that even my boss wanted more freedom from her boss but decided to settle for mediocrity.

Here are my top 5 reasons why I fired my boss to make more money online.

1. I started to value my time more

2. I needed more freedom to leverage my income

3. The pay was not enough

4. I felt that I was too good and my talent was being wasted with them.

5. The inconveniences were not worth it

Now I work for myself in 3 main area of business.

A. Affiliate Marketing

B. Ecommerce Marketing

C. Multi-Level Marketing

This is the book I was reading when I made the decision to fire my boss, Taking People With You, by David Novak

This book is a leadership workbook on moving with others, I do alot of recruiting so I found this one to be invaluable.

Now that I've boldly done it, I want to take the Harriet Tubman approach and take some people with me to the laptop lifestyle and beyond. (Join me at no cost)

 Where are the ones who desire to make more money, work less hours, and truly help other people with their business?

Right now in addition to affiliate marketing, I have two great business opportunities that I'm working and would like to share.

1. The CTFO online business and product line

CTFO will always be free to join.

2. The PRIMERICA Business Opportunity

 Are you willing to invest $125 for a shot of a lifetime, knowing that you will also receive a free life insurance license (more if wanted) and the help of 6 and 7 figure mentors to help you make it in your new business? If you answered yes, contact me by email and let's get you started.

 We buy food and shoes and those things will never pay us back. This will pay you!

Anyone want to understand the value of overriding, active, and residual income working together to produce a wealth that can be passed down for generations? Email me today

  Income reports on Texas highest earners as of June 2019:

Learn more about the PRIMERICA opportunity:

Primerica.com/Mann-Taylor

Primericabusinessopportunity.com Womeninprimerica.com

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I have a resource that will help aid you in your online and offline recruiting,

Let's turn it over to you.

Do you ever want to fire your boss?

How did you transition to your current position?

Leave it all in the comments.

Thanks for reading!