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intertexts · 7 months ago

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GMORNING !!!!! u know what time it is

EPISODE 8 TRIVIA:

- the big monster they fought in the beginning was called a Crawling Apocalypse which looks like this. terrifying !!!

- bizly really liked that william banished it. he was originally not gonna let him do that but then "i realized your character can do so little and that was cool so i said fuck it" we love william pity points he is such a loser and he rolls so terribly <3

- they start talking about one piece because grizzlys saying things abt how certain parts of dakota are inspired by luffy and bizly goes "ive never watched anime" which is the biggest lie in the world

- grizzly: "yknow we were about an hour into the episode before i realized wow i havent done anything productive yet"

condi: "you just hit on vyncents mom for like 20 minutes!!!!"

- and then they start talking about how dakota and chip (bizlys pc from riptide) would either be best friends or hate each other which is really funny bc there are now MULTIPLE what if crossover episodes where they meet and interact and thats exactly the dynamic . i love them

- condi wasnt expecting his dad to be dead, he thought theyd have to fight him

- he kind of hesitated taking the sword !! vyncent doesnt really know how to feel about using something that belonged to his father

- he wasnt entirely Present for the part where his dad betrayed the party, he was sort of fading in and out of consciousness so theres a chance he didnt actually get the full picture. condi knows this out of character and vyncent knows it in the back of his mind somewhere that his dad might not actually be fully evil but hes too angry to come to terms with that yet

- hes struggling a lot with the fact that his mom.doesnt know about the betrayal. he doesnt want to tell her because "its not his fathers pride at stake, its his mother's memory of him" and that makes me so . :(

- THE GREATS!!!!!!!! THE GREATS ARE HERE i love the greats. surely nothing bad is happening to them

- they have a couple theories as to whats going on with the greats:

-- condi: theyre in this state because vyncent took too long getting them back here out of his head

-- condi: they were killed when they got transported to the other world and there was no way to get them back completely

-- charlie: something happened in the time where vyncent was transported to prime and the greats had died, so someone did something to keep them alive by putting them in his head. maybe they could only be kept alive by being in vyncents head

- grizzly tries to insight check bizly irl to see if any of their theories are close so far. this does not work . he rolled a 17 btw

- none of them trust minerva they think she might be secretly working with the lich. bizly defends her by saying "shes also in the middle of basically an apocalypse i think shes allowed to be a little mean to you"

- le frog is the only french person ever. this is brought up with NO context no explanation

- bizly is sharing some of the thumbnail art from youtube because this was right around the time the first few episodes were being put up publically !! most of them are just the same as the official refs but the most important one is le frog bc im not actually sure if youve seen his offical design yet . also tide used to be white. we dont have to talk about white tide

- bizly says pd feels more like a DC comic than a Marvel comic. hes right about this

- charlie starts talking about marissa meyer books and this is important 2 me because the lunar chronicles was an extremely formative piece of media for me . she apparently has a book called renegades thats superhero themed and i have not read it yet but i put it on my list specifically because of this. wahoo!

tgis is SUCH good trivia for this ep thank u dude... ouagh. really solid meal here. i love these last couple episodes so much.. there's so much fun stuff happening here i'm enjoying all of the greats stuff & getting like a solid Vyncent Moment for a while.

i LOVE the william pity points its great! it WAS cool as fuck!! also i gain +5 hp every time a gm goes "who give a shit if this isn't technically how the game mechanics should work, it's fun for everyone at the table & makes for something cool and makes sense narratively."

that being said. i DID take SO MUCH PSYCHIC DAMAGE from how long dakota spent hitting on his fucking mom. Please. Please king !!! sob.

I ALSO WAS EXPECTING THEM TO FIGHT VYN'S DAD???? still not unconvinced that some lich undead bullshit isn't going to happen with that. god i'm so invested in figuring out what HAPPENED there... i love this type of murder mystery situation. & i also was genuinely unsure if he would take the sword or not!! really kind of an ohhh shit! moment when he did. imo. vyncent virion sol i love u.... also it's still INCREDIBLY funny 2 me that he's still in his normal clothes. i have not forgotten that he is just doin his fantasy bullshit thing in the just some guy drip. (<- i might have forgotten something but i've been assuming they no longer have/wear Official Hero Drip since they're no longer really sanctioned or on great terms w/ them? also i've been assuming that the episode-specific clothes & shit isn't really permanent... now that im thinking about it though please tell me wiwi hardcore blue flame black leather kickass spiky biker jacket remains. it's too cool for him. but. still.)

I LOVE THE GREATS SO MUCH... i hope nothing permanently bad happens to them :( i like them so dearly..... you know they r really solid folks because they spent a YEAR and change living in a teenager's brain & came out of the experience still bein so nice 2 him.... augh. also in general big fan of the system-adjacent bullshit :] i love it when theres. guy with guys in his head. etc. will b sad ab their departure but i hope they r OKAY and return 2 Being Alive & shit!! nervous laughter. also god i can't wait to find out what Actually Happened with them. hhrhrghghgghh.

THIS IS SO TRUE ALSO???? free my girl minerva she did nothing but have Literally Normal Reactions to TERRIBLE things happening!!!

I DON'T LIKE THAT LEFROG FACT. it raises the question of is he actually even french or like, is there even a point of reference for his behavior. like. What is going on there. Horrifying thank you!!!! also man this entire degree im working on would be useless! well. maybe prime quebec exists. somehow. independently of a hypothetical europe. HIS DESIGN IS SO FUN BTW. its so cute.. i WAS kind of imagining a mutant Big Real Fucking Frog situation but i think this is a lot more reasonable. also literally ignoring white tide I Do Not See it. It Does Not Exist.

ALSO. NOT GOING TO START TALKING AB COMICS FOR EVEN MORE PARAGRAPHS. BUT. he is so so so right. (<- dc comics guy with Opinions. well. technically im not even much of a dc guy im just a vertigo guy. but. still.) hghghghbhgh.

#ALSO... i remember reading ONE book of that series u just unlocked that memory... it was the only one our library had i think </3 #anyway. this is SO LONG but what ever... prime defenders thought dump time man im free from term paper hell i can do whaddever i want!!!#also HIII ilyyy hope u had a good day :]#mac tag!#pd lb #i need 2 start tagging these trivia ones specifically so i can go back n find em easily..#pd rolled #<- :3

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years ago

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A Place to Belong Chapter 4: Dust to Dust

Read on AO3

“Look, Mam! She’s doing it!”

“That’s braw, Maggie! Keep it up!” Jenny called from the blanket that she and Claire sat on.

The month of May was well underway, and the weather had been brilliantly sunny lately. Jenny had insisted they all needed to get some sun away from the fields or the washtubs and clotheslines. So she and Claire had put together a small picnic and brought it to the mill, the lapping water of the stream welcome music to their ears. They’d eaten, and they were now watching the children play. Wee Jamie was teaching Maggie how to roll the wooden hoop by hitting it with the stick, and she was finally getting it.

Just at that moment, the hoop got away from her, and in her frantic attempt to catch up, she toppled over, disappearing into the tall grass

“She alright, Jamie?”

Wee Jamie clamored to where Maggie had fallen and peeled her off the ground by her arm. “Fine, Mam!” he hollered.

Kitty, who was nestled between Jenny and Claire, stretched her arms out toward her siblings and gave a loud shout, seeming to be mimicking how her brother called out to their mother.

“What’s that, little girl?” Claire said, holding out her finger, which Kitty immediately grasped with her little fist. “Shouting at your brother?”

“Like mother, like daughter,” Jenny said. They both laughed. Jenny dipped her finger into the strawberry jam again, then put her finger into Kitty’s eager mouth. They’d discovered that this was a particular “solid” food that she enjoyed, likely due to its sweetness.

“Do you think since she’s used to the jam now she’d take a bit of a bannock covered in it?” Claire said, looking up at Jenny as Kitty bounced her finger around.

“We could try it,” Jenny said, reaching into the basket and pulling out a bannock. “What do ye say, wean?” Jenny ripped a tiny piece of the bannock and covered it with jam. “Will ye let me get away wi’ this?”

To their astonishment, she did, greedily devouring the bit of bread on Jenny’s fingers. “A miracle, indeed!” Jenny said.

“She just needs a little sugar for encouragement,” Claire said in the ridiculous baby voice she used to speak to her. “Isn’t that right, sweet tooth?”

“If I have to put jam on everything she eats from now on, I swear I’ll do it,” Jenny said, feeding her another jam-covered bite of bannock.

They both laughed again.

“Jamie! Gi’ me!”

They looked up to see Jamie flying like the wind with the hoop and stick, Maggie flailing her arms uselessly to stop him.

“Jamie! It doesnae look like yer teaching her to me!” Jenny called over, not wanting Maggie to break into a full blown tantrum.

“I didna want her to fall again!” Jamie protested.

“ Och , I’m sure,” Jenny said quietly to Claire, who chuckled softly. “She’s a braw lass,” Jenny called to him. “Give her another go.”

“Yes, Mam.”

Claire smiled at Jenny. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Manage all three of them?” Claire said. “You’re a wonderful mother, Jenny. I can only hope to live up to the example you’ve set for me.”

“Oh, it isna so hard. Well, it’s hard, of course. What I mean is…it comes natural, ken.” She briefly paused to wipe Kitty’s mouth, which was pink and sticky with jam. “There’s something inside that tells ye what to do even when ye’ve not a clue. I was never taught how to nurse, fer example. I just did it. No one ever told me that Maggie would only fall asleep if I rubbed her wee belly. I just did it one day, and it worked.” Jenny shrugged, then placed a hand on Claire’s knee. “It’ll all come to ye, Claire. I ken it will.”

Claire smiled. Though she still believed there was something innate to Jenny’s way with her children that she wasn’t sure she possessed, Claire was still grateful that Jenny believed in her. “Thank you, Jenny.”

“Mam!” Maggie’s little voice called. “Look!”

“Aye, there ye go, mo chridhe !”

“Lovely job, Maggie!” Claire called. Wee Jamie was cheering her on, encouraging her to keep it up, directing her all around. “He is so sweet to her, isn’t he?”

“Aye.” Jenny looked at them adoringly. “He is. When he wants to be that is.”

They chuckled. Claire’s heart stung, if only briefly.

“What is it?”

Jenny was getting better and better at reading Claire; it wouldn’t be much longer before she could read her like a book, as Jamie could.

Claire sighed. “It’s just…seeing them together…it makes me wonder…” Her voice trailed off.

“How yer own would be together,” Jenny finished for her.

Like a book.

Claire smiled sadly. “They’d be so close in age. I can…I can picture her.” Claire’s eyes clouded with tears. “I can picture my copper haired little lass teaching her brother to run with the hoop.”

Jenny wrapped an arm around her, and Claire gratefully rested her head on Jenny’s shoulder. “May God rest her soul,” Jenny said. “And may He deliver the next to ye safely.”

Claire sighed, determined not to cry. She smiled. “I could watch them all day.”

Jenny sighed as well. “So could I.”

Kitty made another loud yelp, causing them both to jump, then to laugh. “Someone doesn’t like to share her mother’s and auntie’s attention, hm?” Claire started giving her little tickles, and her joyful laughter pealed like beautiful little bells.

The sound of hoofbeats interrupted Claire’s and Kitty’s game. She and Jenny looked up to see Ian riding toward them.

“Ye have news?” Jenny said, standing up and stepping off the blanket.

Ian looked grave. “Aye.”

Claire bolted off the ground. “What is it?”

“Take the children to Mrs. Crook and meet me in the parlor.”

“Da!” Wee Jamie called, waving his arms. “Look what I taught Maggie!”

Ian simply waved to him before turning his horse and riding back to the house.

“Da?” Jamie called again.

“Not now, Jamie,” Jenny said. “Take yer sister’s hand and come here to me.”

Jenny bent down to pick Kitty up.

“Jenny…” Claire was starting to panic.

Hoop and stick in one hand and Maggie’s hand in the other, Jamie trudged toward the blanket. “You can keep playing, but ye’ll stay close to the house, now. Wi’ Mrs. Crook.”

“Yes, Mam.”

“Off we go, then.”

They quickly gathered the remnants of their lunch and solemnly marched toward the house. The sun was still just as bright, warming their skin, the breeze was just as pleasant, the spring birds still sang. But any warmth or comfort that they’d just felt was gone.

Jenny handed Kitty over to Mrs. Crook when they reached the front porch.

“Put her down fer a nap, then mind the others,” Jenny said.

“Yes, Mistress.”

Claire morbidly thought that it felt like she was marching to her own death as she and Jenny ventured into the parlor. Ian was already standing there waiting when they arrived.

“Ye both should sit,” he said.

Jenny instinctually grasped Claire’s hand, her blood running cold. Together, they sat on the sofa, hands clasped in each other’s.

Claire swallowed thickly, her gaze narrowing and focusing on the pattern on the arm chair across the room. “He’s dead,” she said flatly, not moving. “Isn’t he.”

Ian sighed. Jenny let out a choked gasp, squeezing Claire’s hand tighter.

“They finally released the names of the executed survivors of the battle. Jamie wasna one of them, and he wasna one of the escaped either. Unrecorded names are assumed to be dead on the battlefield.”

Claire’s jaw set hard, her eyes locked on one particular leaf on the chair, the way the stitching flowed, the spots where the color was faded.

“Assumed?” Jenny said desperately. “Is it no’ possible that he survived but avoided capture?”

Ian knelt beside Jenny and took hold of the hand that was not holding Claire’s. “It was a bloodbath, Jenny. They stabbed every body on that battlefield and shot down any that ran away. Theres…there’s no chance.” His voice caught in his throat, and he swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry.”

Jenny shook her head and collapsed into Ian, wracked with pitiful sobs.

Claire remained unchanged. Her vision had narrowed; all she could see now was that leaf on the upholstery of that chair.

“Claire…I’m heart sorry…”

Ian’s voice fell on deaf ears. It seemed quite possible that Claire would die still staring at that leaf. It was starting to not even look like a leaf anymore. Perhaps it was a feather…

“Claire.” Something touched her shoulder. A hand, perhaps?

Maybe it was the petal of a flower…

“Can ye hear me, lass?”

A green blanket blowing in the wind?

A ringing started in her head, a high pitched stream of white noise in her ears.

It was starting to look blue…had it been blue this whole time? It couldn’t be a leaf then.

“For God’s sake, Claire! Can ye look at me?”

Perhaps it was a piece of the sky, cut out of the atmosphere and stitched into the upholstery of the chair.

The ringing got louder, and she suddenly could not remember a time where she could not hear it.

Now it was turning purple.

There was a very sudden sting in her right cheek, and the leaf was gone, the ringing stopped. She couldn’t see or hear anything at all for a moment.

The first thing she heard was someone breathing, and the first sight she was aware of was the carpet in the parlor. The parlor…is that where she was?

She looked up in front of her, placing the breathing to the woman who knelt before her. She was red in the face, her eyes swimming with tears. Jenny. That was her name.

Her cheek still vaguely stung, and she realized that she’d been slapped across the face. By Jenny.

“Jenny…?” Claire didn’t recognize the sound of her own voice.

“Will ye no’ say anything?” Jenny said, her voice muffled by an excess of mucous in her airways.

“I can’t feel my fingers.” It was the only thing that came to her mind to say. She watched as Jenny clasped her hands in her own, but she didn’t feel it.

“Her hands are cold as ice.”

“I’m going into shock,” Claire said automatically.

“What’s that?” A new voice. Ian. He was there, too.

“I’m going into shock.”

Ian and Jenny exchanged a fretful look.

“Can ye feel this, lass?” Ian placed a gentle hand on her back.

“Have the leaves always been purple?”

Jenny and Ian exchanged another look.

“Yer no’ making any sense, Claire,” Ian said. “Can I…can I get ye something to drink?”

Jenny touched her face. “She’s cold all over.”

“D’ye feel feverish, Claire?” Ian asked.

“Feel…?”

“Can ye stand, Claire?” Jenny asked.

“I don’t…have feet…” Claire’s eyebrows furrowed.

“She canna feel anything,” Jenny surmised. Jenny put Claire’s right arm around both of her shoulders, and Ian followed suit with her left arm. They slowly got her to her feet, but as expected, she was dead weight, even fully conscious.

“Uncle Lamb?”

“What’s that?” Ian asked.

“I can’t see…” Claire muttered. “Everything is dark…what’s happened, Uncle Lamb?”

“It’s alright, Claire,” Jenny said as they dragged her to the staircase. “Hush yerself now.”

“I can’t see! I’ve gone blind! Help me, please!”

When Claire was eleven years old, there’d been an incident with some gunpowder at a dig that had briefly damaged her vision. After the explosion, when she’d woken up inside a tent, she was horrified to realize she was awake, but the world remained dark. She remembered feeling so lost and helpless. She called out to her uncle, begging him to give her her sight back, crying tears that burned as they left her eyes. It was the first moment in her life she’d been truly terrified. Thankfully, she could see again after about a week, but she couldn’t sleep without a lantern for months after, terrified of any darkness she inhabited becoming permanent.

She felt eleven years old again, locked in a black terror, unable to bear being alone with herself like this. Back then, as her uncle cradled her to his chest, she truly believed she’d never see anything again. She grieved her eyesight and wept like the frightened child she was.

This time when her eyesight returned to her, she was met with a stone ceiling.

“Uncle…I can see…”

“Claire?”

That was not Uncle Lamb’s voice.

“Can ye see me now, Claire?”

Claire turned her head to see the same woman from before hovering over her.

“It’s Jenny, Claire…can ye see me?”

Jenny. Sister of my husband. My husband…

“My husband…” Claire’s voice was hardly a whisper.

Jenny removed the warm rag that was laid across her forehead and stroked her hair. “He’s gone, Claire.” Jenny bit her lip, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“He’s gone,” Claire repeated.

Jenny began sobbing anew, covering her mouth in an unsuccessful attempt to quiet herself.

Jamie is gone.

That rushed goodbye in that field, those desperate kisses…that was truly the last time…

“He’s gone…” Claire said again, her voice strangely high pitched.

And suddenly, everywhere that had just been ice cold was now on fire. She was burning from the inside out, the worst pain she’d ever known.

She pushed herself into a sitting position, throwing the covers off.

“Jenny…” Claire said. “He’s really gone…”

“Oh, Claire,” Jenny sobbed.

“It can’t be true…” Claire shook her head, but the pain covering every inch of her body told her otherwise. “We had our whole lives, Jenny…”

“I know…” Jenny wrapped her arms around her. Claire’s arms remained limp at her side.

“His child…” Claire murmured. “He has to meet his child…”

Jenny clung to the back of Claire’s head, pressing her into her.

“I…I can’t do it, Jenny…” Claire still wouldn’t return the embrace.

“I ken he was yer heart. I ken it well.” Jenny sniffled and sighed shakily. “I’m…I’m so sorry…”

“I don’t…I don’t want to…” Claire tried to push herself out of Jenny’s grasp. “I don’t want to do this…let me go, please…” Jenny only tightened her grip. “Let go of me! I don’t want to…I don’t want to…”But despite every muscle in her body fighting against it, Claire’s words dissolved into indecipherable sobs, and her rigid body finally collapsed into Jenny. She threw her arms around her and wept gutturally into Jenny’s shoulder, clinging to her as if her life depended on it.

#a place to belong #outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander au #outlander fanfiction #claire fraser #jenny murray #jenny fraser murray #jamie fraser #fergus fraser #lallybroch

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 6 years ago

Text

Stay Ch. 16

Master List

Pairing: Natasha X Reader (Female)

Summary: You have a gift, the ability to see other people’s innermost secrets. For years you used it to gather intel for the highest bidder when you take on The Widow. After she becomes more than a mark the two of you spend years stealing moments. Post snap you wait in your designated meeting place, look back on the sordid past you share with the woman you love and hope against everything that she’s still alive.

Warnings: Angst, and fluff, and feels oh my!

A/N: So yeah I swear I wroth an authors note for this... but idfk what happened.

ANYWAY! Thank you all for being so patient while I got my life together. This one is also short and sweet (guess that’s the mood I’m in). However, y’all should know me by now. This is just the calm before the storm.

Hope you enjoy this one my pumpkins!

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @5aftermidnight@jeromethepsycho @marvel-randomness @daniellajocelyn @katecolleen @yanginginthere@wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @lesbian-girls-wayhaught @siriuslycloudy2

March 2007

At some point in the last five months, you’d stopped recognizing yourself. The woman in the mirror wasn’t Y/N. Her hair was different, down to even the eyebrows. Her accent distinctly that of a life long Londoner. She worked for an independent UK couture fashion magazine, chose wine over whiskey, and was distinctly heterosexual.

When the chance to work this job requiring deep cover came up in December you jumped on it. You didn’t want to be you anymore. The you that couldn’t be with the woman you loved. The you that was heartbroken. The you who was beginning to doubt that you’d ever be happy. Fuck her.

Being Charlie Daniels was far better. She was, of course, a real person. Just one who was now living comfortably in the Bahamas courtesy of MI6. Even legit agencies had use of freelance talent every now and then.

Settling into her life had been easy. Not setting her boss on fire or blowing his brains out daily was a different task altogether. Turned out that a magazine was a great front for a crime empire. Lots of international travel, young and beautiful and desperate men and women, money exchanged in countless untraceable ways, on and on. And this fucker was happy to take advantage of every single disgusting avenue it opened up.

You almost had everything you needed to hand to MI6, get your obscenely large payout, and get on to another gig while they threw all of these bastards into cells to rot for the rest of their miserable lives. Just one more trip. After whatever horrible things they lay out in Tokyo you’ll be set.

Tokyo is one of those cities you can lose yourself in. Like New York but better for its interesting balance of vibrancy and grounded reserve. You absolutely love it.

The whole point of the trip, at least on the surface, was to focus on Fashion Week Tokyo. Honestly, there was a part of you that wished this was your world. Nothing but runway shows and after parties. Writing about the latest trends rather than delving into the inner workings of the worlds miscreants

Oh well. It was nice enough to pretend. You had to admit that you’d miss Charlie Daniels once you shed this skin in a couple of weeks.

You’re sitting two people down from your boss at an underground show. The level of security here screams that there are other things going on behind the scenes but it’s still a room filled with a who’s who of the Japanese and international fashion communities.

This was your third show of the day, and you knew there would be a party after where you’d have to schmooze all while plucking information from your unsuspecting fellow guests. You’re exhausted. So rather than pay much attention to the show you let your mind wander.

When she walks out you feel her rather than see her. Slowly you turn your head to stare dumbstruck at the model walking onto the catwalk. Your heart begins beating against your ribs, your mouth goes dry, your hands shake.

It takes every ounce of control you have to keep your emotions in. To not scream “Natasha!” at the top of your lungs. To not grab her and run for the hills. Charlie Daniels and her easy life be damned. It’s hard but you manage.

As she turns and comes back down, passing now closer to you, her eyes don’t graze the crowd at all. Head up, shoulders back, she walks the runway like she’d been doing it for years.

The rest of the show is maybe ten minutes but it feels like years. You know the models are all attending the party. Eye candy for the high end guests.

It’s fairly easy to ditch your coworkers in the crowd as you try to find the best vantage point in the room without being too obvious. After a solid twenty minutes, you find yourself planning an escape route. Most of the models are milling about but she’s no where to be seen. You will find her.

But you know you can’t skip out just yet. At the bar, you order a red wine and make yourself seen. Charlie would never miss the whole party after all. You spend a bit chatting with designers and a few models, feigning interest in the whole thing until you hear your boss call out to you.

“Oy, Charlie!” Carl’s voice alone makes you want to put him down. When you turn he’s waving you over to the bar. Sighing heavily you head over.

You’re about ten feet away when you see her, head back laughing at something Carl or his friend had said. Both men are far to close to her for your liking and the hungry look on Carl’s face sets your blood boiling.

He slings an arm around your shoulders and you carefully coach your face to not show disgust. “Charlie here is my best writer. Doin’ some pieces for us on this whole thing,” he waves his other hand around wildly.

“Good to meet ya, Charlie, I’m Dan,” the other man, clearly American says.

“Likewise,” Natasha doesn’t react to the accent at all.

“This here is-”

“Natalie,” Natasha cuts him off, extending a hand to you. Holding her eyes with yours you take it. It’s like touching a live wire.

“Natalie is an American model working here in Japan. May be a good topic for a piece.” He ribs you leaning closer, “And a good piece for the office eh?” Suddenly that MI6 money seems far less appealing.

“I’d love that,” Natasha beams. “Why don’t you guys go mingle and Charlie and I can chat!” The men exchange a glance, but there’s plenty of fresh meat around to sink their teeth into.

Carl flashes you a greasy smile and a wink as he walks away. Thinking clearly that you’re going to snare this woman for him. You, unfortunately, had a few others. Not something you were proud of. Demands of the job you told yourself.

“She’ll take a vodka neat,” you tell the bartender.

“Yes,” Natasha smiles at him, “Whiskey for her. Makers if you have it.” He thinks nothing of it and makes your drinks.

“So, how’s modeling in Japan?”

“Probably about as good as writing for a sleazy jackal.”

You laugh, “That bad? What’s the goal.”

“Getting a cover,” you commend the clever word play.

“That’s a good goal. Long term?”

“Something like that.” She takes a sip of her vodka, “How long are you here?”

“End of the week.” Your skin itches to touch her. The men are rounding back. You hold her gaze and shift your eyes back to them. She catches on.

“Perfect! It’s so hard to have a good interview here, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely. Why don’t you come by my hotel?” You whip out your spare key card. “I’d love to get your story for the mag, maybe do a full feature.”

“A feature would be excellent exposure!”

“Wouldn’t it?” Carl slides up next to her. “We can get you all the exposure you could want Ms. Natalie.”

“Charlie was telling me all about it.” She flashes him a coy smile. “Thank you so much Charlie! I forgot I have a late fitting tonight for another show so I’ve got to run. But we’ll chat soon yeah?”

“Absolutely! It was so good to meet you Natalie.”

“Same! Bye!” She hurries through the crowded room and disappears.

“Busy girl.” Carl quips. “Whiskey?” You look down at the glass by your hand.

“Some guy sent them over,” you gesture to Natasha’s lipstick stained glass. “Seemed rude to refuse. Can’t stand the stuff though.”

“That’s a mans drink,” Carl laughs at his own perceived joke and you force a smile.

Somehow you make it through the rest of the evening. You’d refused to allow yourself to hope that she’d be here, too obvious to come the same night, better to wait. Kicking off your shoes you head straight to the mini bar and crack open a whiskey, downing it in one gulp.

“You really need to be more careful,” Natasha’s voice comes from the bathroom. “I mean not even checking around. Sloppy.”

“Charlie Daniels doesn’t have to check for Russian assassins in her bathroom,” a smile pulls your face so tight it hurts.

“Well, Natalie Rushman isn’t a Russian spy. So…”

You let your real accent resurface as you pull her into your arms, “Natalie Rushman, I don’t know if that’s clever or lazy.” She kisses you hard, tongue sliding over your lips hands gripping your ass.

“Mmm,” she hums. “Kinda like the accent.”

“Oh?” You revert to the clipped posh Londoner sound. “Would you rather be with Charlie? I hate to break it to you, she’s strictly into dick so you may need to get a bit creative.”

Natasha’s head falls back with laughter, “I’m always into a challenge but,” she cups your face in her hands, “I’d much rather Y/N, she’s got a cute accent too.” Your kiss is soft this time, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, honey.” Gently you push a strand of hair out of her face. “Is this smart? Are you gonna get-”

“I’m good. I wouldn’t be here if I thought there was risk.” She pulls away and tugs you toward the bed. “There’s no surveillance on me here, I check in every week, that’s it. This is strictly to build a cover.”

“Cover for what?” She gives you a sideways glance. “Right. National security.”

“Do you really want to talk about work?”

Smirking at her you push her back on the bed. “Maybe later.”

You lean down to her but she stops you by planting a strappy heel in the center of your chest. Trailing your fingers down her leg you snag a knife from her thigh holster. Carefully you slide the blade under the straps, the incredibly sharp edge cuts through the thin suede like it’s nothing.

“Those were very expensive you know,” eyes sparkling with desire.

You slip the shoe off and toss it aside. “I’ll buy you a new pair.” Your lips press against her ankle.

Everything in your life until her was so fleeting. Even your own name, the sound of your own voice, who you were… But with her, you were grounded. You weren’t anything but her’s, you were Y/N.

Suddenly you’re overwhelmed. Caressing her muscular calf you just stare at her eyes. Emerald green, dark liner, lids heavy with lust and exhaustion.

“Natasha…” Your voice cracks and you fight for composure.

“Y/N? What is it?” She shoots up, cradling your face in her hands.

You shake your head, unable to really find the words and unwilling to send this storm of emotions to her. “I just…” You cover her hands with your own. It’s not that you don’t want her, you do. But…

“Can we just… I just wanna hold you…” Her expression immediately softens, eyes sparkling a touch with tears. “Sorry… I… I just…”

“I’d love that, baby.” Tenderly her lips brush yours, then your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids as they flutter closed.

You shed your clothes and crawl into the plush bed. Holding tight to one another you spend hours drifting in and out of sleep, covering the other with soft kisses. Before the sun rises your hands wander southward.

This time you don’t fuck one another senseless. It feels like you’re trying to memorize every curve, every sound, every subtle thing that marks being together. You both know you many not get to do this for some time. The knowledge aches but it doesn’t make having her any less sweet.

Post Snap

You lean your head back on the wall behind the booth. The crying man from last night is gone, you find yourself hoping that he’s resting peacefully somewhere… even though you know it’s pointless to hope for such things.

There are more people filling the bar than there was before. The TVs are off, radios turned up, reporters frantically trying to determine what happened. It was global, that was clear. All planes grounded, trains stopped, communications spotty due to damaged cell towers.

A man speaks frantically to someone who seems to be a friend that he was heading to Nuremberg from Budapest, how the roads are almost not navigable. He doesn’t know if his family is even still there but he has to find out.

Despite his distress, your lips curl a bit at the mention of Budapest.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #black widow #queer fic #wlw

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undrunkconfessions · 5 years ago

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Imp3rfections

You know, we start off at a young age with a preconceived idea of what love is or how it should look like. We are introduced to fairytales which in the name itself, displays contradiction. Our mothers tell us what to look for in men, our fathers tell us to stay away from them in general. Our elementary school categorizes both genders as having a viral disease, or in other terms, 'cooties'. And as we grow up, we can't help but compare our relationships to how other preconceived thoughts expect them to be. What I don't understand is, why. Why does society feel the need to put a stamped opinion on whether a relationship is categorized as good or bad, healthy or unhealthy. Shouldn't this be done by the person themselves? Do you believe people change? Do you believe people actually have the ability to change their mindset, an alteration of one's true being? Do you believe that a person can change another? Perhaps, a soulmate? Speaking of which, do you believe in soulmates? and why? If there is such thing as a soulmate, how do you know? is it the typical saying, 'when you know you know?' or is it a spark that flares every time you see that person. or is this both? If you ask me. If you ask me what I believe, if you ask me if I have felt this flared spark. I'd tell you no. I'd tell you that I once thought my life changed when I met one individual. And yeah, call me crazy. Tell me I shouldn't have that much desire for another person like I once did for him. I say my life changed, I say that because for a moment it did. For a moment I started viewing the world in wonder. More than I did before. And yeah, when I'm finished writing this, hopefully you'll understand that I don't regret anything in life. I live day by day, and meeting him was a day I would never take away. But, Have you ever met someone that by just one look, by one glance, one smirk, you find yourself emerged in their soul? and its not someone you even have time for your mind to start going off with 'holy fuck he's hot' or 'fuck me now', kind of vibes (lol). But seriously, someone who by just one look and your whole body goes numb, your eyes can't look away, your heart slows down with every slow exhale you take. Because in all one full second, you feel divergent. You feel as if everything around you is frozen, and your eyes flutter. You see his stainless, caring eyes and its like he pulled you in. He pulled you in with no words, nothing. And tell me, can you guess, what happens next? You cave. You cave in, unintentionally, but full heartedly. His mischievous ways, he knew exactly what he was doing. And you don't think about it, you follow your heart, right? Because as little girls we were raised by fairytales and happy endings that if you follow your heart you get your prince. But this is the misconception of worldview. This is why we must know virtue. Because if we get that wrong, we get it all wrong. So, you slip into his bed. And he sets fire to every part of your body. He awakens you, gives you new breath. What you have been craving and longing for, this one guy had. And you feel like he held this recipe for how to satisfy your every need, in his back pocket. Like he was designed to meet you. Like that one look, that one glance, that one smirk, was the universes plan. And you tell yourself it was meant to be. You tell yourself that what you feel, he feels too. Because how could he not? How could he not feel that unspoken spark? But then.You find yourself waiting, expecting a text. . or a call. And then it hits you, you realize what happened .. just.. happened. But then of course, like us ladies tend to do, we go to our best friend/s. And we pour out everything in detail - and this is when the table can turn, or flip. Your friends will either tell you that what you feel is magical and real and everything you must go after. Or, your friends will tell you to accept what was and continue to just live your life moving forward. And how you choose what path to go down, determines, ultimately.. how bad you want your heart to break, or not. So of course, we politely thank our friends and agree. But ladies common now, we still make this decision for ourselves. I mean, no matter how obvious the situation is, we still tell ourselves what we W A N T. and men, let me be the first to say... we, we do what we want. and we do it in a fucking complicated matter. We tell ourselves that no matter the situation, that theres still a chance that they are wrong. That he really does like you, that he really did feel something, that maybe he's busy or playing hard to get or what the fuck ever. So we do what our friends recommended, we live our lives moving on...but with him in the back of our head. As if theres a string attached and every time a new male comes in, He yanks the string and your soul shuts the other male out. But. You start comparing what you're going through in this weird, undefined, relationship. You tell yourself you deserve better. But lets pause. Why do we do this? Why the hell , and when the hell, did we start to say we deserve better. and what the fuck does that actually mean? this is the problem with media, we're told at such a young age that men are suppose to take care of the women, that they work while the wife stays at home to clean... now, I'm not writing this to start a debate or come off as feminist. I'm simply giving my view, saying that as women we're told to act a certain way and choose our men a certain way. Pause. Side note: I'm not saying men weren't raised with a certain expectation either. But simply, thats not what this topic is about. Un-pause.. And if we don't, based off societies expectations, what happens to our heart, well..... doesn't fucking matter because we didn't fucking listen to the 'rules'. If you can't tell by the amount of 'fucks' I just wrote, this irritates me. The fact that we're meant to be so precise and nitpick on who we choose to like, disgusts me. We should like who we like. We should do what we like to do. We should make our own decisions. and why do things need to be labeled? Personally, I love communication. I think with solid communication and understanding, there is no need for a label. Who cares? A piece of paper justifies your love for one person? Fuck that. I love and I love hard, and I love, loving. And when I meet my soulmate, if I haven't already, then we both know this. We both know our love, and we love hard. That should be it. Anyways, I derailed. So soon enough you realize that night meant nothing to him. But, you realize you start changing. You start reading things you've never read before, just so you can share similar interests. You realize you start prioritizing ways to make yourself better; to stand out. You loose interest in your desires and start focusing on him. You place him on this pedistole, you tell yourself your not good enough so you get your hair done. You wear a little more makeup, and/or you go to the gym more often. . . and don't lie to yourself because we do this. And honestly, ladies, its normal. But my question is why? why is it normal for women to feel the need to make themselves better for someone whom gives two absolute shits. Love is free. Kindness, is free. Living life for one person, that isn't living. Living life with your soulmate, together, thats living. Thats living freely.

#undrunkconfessions

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grayson-dolans-dangly-earring · 6 years ago

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Fireworks (G.D.)

Hello babies! This fic idea was requested by the lovely @simplykiersten and I just wanted to apologize for the long wait on this! I had a lot of work drama to deal with and she was so patient with me! her request was for a fic where gray and y/n are broken up but they see each other at a firework show and they get back together, so here it is!

@bouttogolinkurbitch @dolanoodle @heathendolan @scandalousdolan @justanotherdolanblog @notanotherdolantwinsblog @profanitydolan @spiffydolan @coconutethan @libragrayson @ethansbbyg @mintdolans @chaaandlaah @dolandreaminn @idk-dolans @lanadeldolans @lanelessdolan @kara-dolan @jocelynnnnn10 @dolantwins-1999 @rockstardolan @thedolansss @doltishdolans @sisterdolan

Every year my hometown had a big block party in the center of town. It was a free all day event consisting of barbeques, swimming, live music, and at the end a huge firework show. And thats where I met Grayson.

Grayson was the love of my life. We met at the block party five years ago after his family moved to town. It was my sophomore year of high school and I was more than ready to find a nice boy in town to go out with but no one in my school really appealed to me. Then Grayson and his twin brother Ethan came to town. They were by far the hottest boys me and my friends had ever seen. I had heard the whispers about them around school and seen the pictures but I hadn’t seen them in person yet. But that year’s block party changed everything.

My friends and I had a tradition of paying the kids who came home to visit from college, to get us a bottle of Malibu rum so we could make mixed drinks for the block party (without our parents knowledge of course). As I was sipping my third Malibu Bay Breeze strolling around the block party looking for my friends, I ran into a solid wall of muscle. As I did, I spilled my entire drink down the front of the person’s shirt. When I looked up I realized it was him. The infamous Grayson Dolan. I was already pretty tipsy but I was sure it was him. “It’s you. Fuck. It’s really you! God damn you’re WAY hotter than Rachel let me believe. Nice work Mr. and Mrs. Dolan!” I said. Grayson let out a deep laugh that seemed to last forever. “Fuck! I said that out loud didn’t I?! Oh I’m really sorry about the shirt. You can take it off if you want. I mean-jesus christ what am I doing?!” I rambled, quickly slapping my hand over my mouth.

By this point Grayson was doubled over with laughter and all I could do was join him. Once we both caught our breath, he slipped his shirt over his head and threw it in the nearest garbage can. His whole body was so beautifully tanned and muscles rippled beneath his skin. When he turned back to me I quickly turned my head and he swiped my cup and chugged the rest of my drink. “Hey!” I shouted. He grinned down at my pouting face. “Mmm. Tastes like coconut. I like coconut. And I think I like you.” He said. I blushed and tried not to grin. Grayson and I made a plan to meet back up at the park later that night for the firework show, and thats exactly what we did.

That night we watched the fireworks and Grayson kissed me for the first time. After that we were together and deeply in love for the rest of high school. Toward the end of our senior year our plans of going to California for college together, were crushed. Grayson’s father got diagnosed with cancer and Gray decided he couldn’t leave. I understood his decision but I tried so hard to convince him that a long distance relationship could work. But he didn’t want that. He claimed he would only hold me back and he didn’t want me to miss out on the college experience. I told him he was a coward for not even trying to make this work. I regretted my words but they were out there. Grayson lashed out and said the worst thing he could have in that moment. His words haunted me every day after that. “Y/N I never really even loved you. At least not how you love me. I kept you around to pass the time. Thats it. You don’t mean as much to me as you think you do. Get out.” After that I ran from his house and never looked back. I threw everything that reminded me of him in a box and shoved it into my closet. In a few short weeks I had packed up my entire life and was on a plane to California to begin my new life, and I left Grayson and his horrible words behind.

But now I find myself back in my hometown. I had finished college and I was back in town to move back in with my parents until my new house was move-in ready. I was loading the last box into the house when I realized, tonight was the annual block party. I knew my parents would try to guilt me into going but I really didn’t want to. I decided to not even bring the topic up, and take a shower and get ready for a night of drinking wine and watching Harry Potter until I passed out. I grabbed a towel from the hall closet and went to take a shower.

When I went to my room to change I realized that all my clothes were still being shipped from california and wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow. “Shit!” I shouted. “Honey? You okay?” My mom asked from the doorway. “Yeah I’m okay. I just forgot I have no clothes until tomorrow.” I said rummaging through my carry on bag from the plane, finding a pair of leggings but no shirt. “Oh sweetie there's a box in your closet of stuff you left when you left for college. Maybe theres something in there? Hurry up now. I expect to see you at the block party in an hour. No excuses missy.” My mom said with a smile before leaving my room. I went to the closet and pulled out the box. I pulled off the lid and it felt like a punch in the chest. It was my Grayson box and right on top was his sweatshirt I used to wear. Tears pricked at my eyes as I lifted the hoodie and brought it to my nose. It still smelled like him. Unfortunately it was the only piece of clothing in there so it would have to do. I slipped it on and immediately started to cry. It felt like coming home.

If I was going to get through this block party I was going to need some help. I went to the liquor cabinet downstairs and found my mom’s bottle of Malibu rum. Just like old times. I poured it straight with no mixers into a cup with a lid and a reusable straw. I slipped on my nikes and started walking to the block party, cup in hand.

After a few hours of chatting with old friends, it started to get dark and I decided to head home. I couldn’t stay for the fireworks. Fireworks were our thing and even thinking about watching them without Grayson made my heart hurt. I turned to leave and ran into someone’s chest and knocked my glasses off. I bent down to grab them,an apology already spilling from my lips. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I normally am more observ-” My apology was cut short as I looked up. It was Grayson. He was just as beautiful as I remembered. “At least it wasn’t the drink this time.” He said with a soft laugh. I stood there like a deer in headlights. “I-I I think I’m gonna be sick. I gotta go.” I stuttered before I broke off into a sprint in the opposite direction. I didn’t know where I was going, all I knew was I had to get the fuck out of there. The rum in my cup sloshed against the lid and I mentally patted myself on the back for the smart cup choice. I skidded to a stop in the middle of the woods off the edge of the park, taking a big sip of my drink. I heard footsteps behind me and I whirled around to see Grayson walking through the woods right behind me. “Y/N you know you could never outrun me. I don’t even know why you tried.” He chuckled.

“You want to know why I ran?! Because I can’t stand the thought of being near you! I decided to stop breaking my heart over you a long time ago Grayson! You have no idea what the hell it’s like being near the person who told you they never loved you! You destroyed me Grayson and I’ll be damned if I EVER let you do it again!” I screamed, tears running down my face. I launched my cup at the nearest tree and it shattered and fell to the ground. “Jesus! Relax Y/N! You’re acting insane!” Grayson’s voice boomed through the woods. “NO! You don’t get to tell me what to do or how to feel anymore! You did this to me and you’re just mad you have to see what you’ve done! How does it feel seeing the aftermath of what you did? Does it sting? I hope it does but it will never compare to the pain I carry around every day! And you know what the worst part is? I never stopped loving you! Not once! You said you wanted me to have “the full college experience” and guess what? I didn’t even get that because even the thought of someone touching me the way you used to, made me fucking sick! And I know this might seem like me flying off the handle but this is everything I never got to tell you! I never got my chance to speak because you hurled the worst words at me and told me to get out and this is every fucking thing I’ve ever wanted to say to you spilling out at once! I hate you for what you said and I hate you for pushing me away! But the sickest part of it all is I loved you and cared for you so much that I let your words ruin my life! And I hate myself more than I could EVER hate you!” I screamed until my voice was more of a growl than anything. All the angry energy drained out of me and crumpled to my knees in the dirt.

After what felt like hours Grayson finally spoke. “Y/N I want you to know that I’m sorry.” I scoffed at him before he continued. “No I’m serious. Just please hear me out. I never meant what I said to you that night. I just didn’t know what else to do to push you to go to California. It was always your dream and I knew that. But I also knew you loved me so much that you would give it up to stay here with me and I could never live with myself if you did that. So I said some awful things to you so you would leave. It hurt so much to lie to you like that. And it hurt even more that I knew I would never be with you again. But when you left my Dad just kept telling me “Son, you loved her so you let her go. If it’s meant to be, she’ll come back to you.” and I believed that. I had to or I would go insane. So when I saw you tonight I figured this was it, you were coming back to me and I could finally fix everything. And then you ran from me. Thats when I knew I really fucked up. But I swear to you I never meant any of those horrible things. I love you so much.” In the time that Grayson was speaking he had made his way over to me and sat down next to me.

I turned to look at him and I could see it in his eyes that he meant every word. “I love you too Gray. I always have.” I whispered. I rested my head on his shoulder. “I never would have said those things if I knew you would always be hurting like this.” He said in a hushed voice. “Will you give me another chance? I swear I will spend every day for the rest of my life making up for the pain I caused you.” Grayson asked, taking my hand in his. Overhead the fireworks had just begun. “Fireworks were always our thing. I think thats the universe telling me to take a chance on you.” I said, looking into his eyes. “Is that a yes?” He whispered. “Yes Grayson. I’ll give you a second chance.” I murmured.

Grayson’s face lit up and he smiled wider than I had ever seen. He leaned forward and kissed me. After the kiss he rested his forehead on mine and smiled as he said “Tastes like coconut. I like coconut. And I love you.”

THE END

#me #mine #dolan fandom #dolan twins imagine #the dolan twins #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins #grayson x reader #grayson imagine #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfic #ethan x reader #ethan imagine #ethan dolan #ethan dolan fanfic #4ou #4ou tour

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jimdsmith34 · 7 years ago

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The 6 Stages Of Trying On A Bikini After Being A Lazy Piece Of Sh*t All Winter

Youve officially survived another winter of dreaded family holidays, surprise engagements, and disguising your 2pm blackout as brunch without entirely losing your dignity. But that also means that in the months between November and March, betches were busy living their best fucking lives, Instagramming cheese plates and colorful fruit cocktails, all while pulling off the illusion that their ass underwent months of squat-like workouts, thanks to overpriced Lulu leggings.

Sure, these PPCS (Post Partum Cuffing Season) side effects are totally justified, but unfortunately for me you, the social media faade that just upped your followers prob also upped your pant size. Bikini season is right around the corner as of like, yesterday, and your besties are dying to be sexually objectified at Tao Beach, but that also means theyre counting on you to pose for pics with them that scream GIRLS TRIP!!! But also can you believe this cleavage rn? while debuting swimwear the size of a hair scrunchie. So if theres one thing I know better than the exact distance it takes to get from work to the bar, its everything a betch goes through following the pre-bikini season DGAF:

Stage 1: The Invitation

After victoriously indulging in an all-carb diet for four months straight, the only phone call thats dreaded more than your gyno calling to deliver test results is your best friend calling to invite you on a ratchet river retreat. This means pausing yourbinge and getting off your ass in hopes of finding a swimsuit thatll cover your perma-winter layer so you dont feel like an IRL Flubber on a rocky boat. Being a possessor of chronic Stage 4 FOMO the good friend that you are, you reluctantly agree to a weekend of staged candid bikini photos while hiding behind a donut pool floatie, as you confirm with a high-pitched OMG YES IM SO THERE! Congratulations, youve just survived your first two-way calling attack.

Stage 2: The Casual Browse

Does your recent Google search history read, “bathing suits that hide my back fat”? Bcuz same. Every betch has Googled some sort of self-loathing ridicule at a point in her life, which means that the quest for the perfect bathing suit has officially begun. But first you attempt to save a little face before baring it all to the poor Victorias Secret employee and peruse your options via Google. After hours of research, only to find yourself 68 weeks deep into Kylie Jenners sluttiest bikini photos, desperate times call for desperate fucking measures, and your Google searches quickly go from “bathing suits” to “how much did Kims fat transfer cost?”

Stage 3: The Dressing Room

They say the camera adds 10 pounds, but they also say the fitting room mirror adds like, 20. Idk if its the shitty interrogation-room lighting, or the fact that my “monthly” bloat has just become a way of life, but TBH entering a womans fitting room is like entering the fucking Chokey. After trying on the stores entire swim inventory, the only thing youve actually accomplished other than realizing youve unknowingly been growing a winter forest below the navel border for the past three months, is realizing that the trendy off-the-shoulder bikini top you tolerated serves no practicality or purpose other than showcasing unwanted armpit vagina.

Stage 4: The Crash Diet

As you leave the store, you make a vow to yourself to go full Emily Blunt for two weeks and to eat nothing but a cube of cheese, but only when feeling like youre gonna drop dead. You stick it out for a solid three hours until your drive home automatically lands you in the In-N-Out drive thru line because whatever, youre getting cheese fries. You start randomly developing a sense of false confidence and mutter shit to yourself like, If they cant accept me at my pregnant Kim K., then they dont deserve me at my revenge bod Khlo. #BIBLE

Stage 5: The Prep

Earth to betches: Bikini season is only like 26% about the actual bikini. You dont get a Chipotle burrito to show off the foil wrapping, do you? Id be lying to you if I said Im not the best version of myself when I have a tan. And youd also be lying if you denied that. It makes you look, like, 10 pounds lighter and it gives the illusion that you physically saw the light of day this winter other than through your sliding glass door while you were covered in potato chip crumbs. You resort to whatever painful process it takes to distract people from the slightest amount of “excess love” hanging off your hips like a fucking ornament, and waxing off that 1960s bush youve been harboring like a fugitive. This results in spending more money on your physical appearance than the value of the actual vacation itself, but thats just, like, the rules of Instagram feminism.

Stage 6: The Presentation

Whether or not your summer bod is ready, a betch knows that the key to living her best vacation life is liquid confidence. ‘Tis the season for 9am beer bongs and chips and guac as a meal replacement, so you finally decide to proudly wear your winter bloat like a badge of honor, because #LoveYoself and (hi) DGAFing is your specialty. Vacays may not be about what you wear, but they sure as hell are about what you drink, so chances are, nobody in their drunk state of mind will even notice your nonexistent insecurities. Plus, drunk goggles make everyone look like a fucking 10, so you win. Now sit back, RELAX, and get that fine-ass awesome personality over here and take a shot with me.

source http://allofbeer.com/the-6-stages-of-trying-on-a-bikini-after-being-a-lazy-piece-of-sht-all-winter/ from All of Beer http://allofbeer.blogspot.com/2018/04/the-6-stages-of-trying-on-bikini-after.html

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allofbeercom · 7 years ago

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The 6 Stages Of Trying On A Bikini After Being A Lazy Piece Of Sh*t All Winter

Stage 1: The Invitation

Stage 2: The Casual Browse

Stage 3: The Dressing Room

Stage 4: The Crash Diet

Stage 5: The Prep

Stage 6: The Presentation

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/the-6-stages-of-trying-on-a-bikini-after-being-a-lazy-piece-of-sht-all-winter/

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