#i don't need money at the moment because i have a shit ton of savings so i was planning to work mostly so i wouldn't sit bored at home

[drysauce]

fuck this shit i'm NOT working this summer

[words-4u]

right person (1/3)

pairings: luca x reader, marcus x reader (platonic)

wc: 1.4k

a/n: immediately started planning a three part series on luca while watching the bear s2. that's what a tatted will poulter does to me (the bear is an incredible show btw pls watch if you don't)

warning: swearing

part 2 / part 3

"denmark?"

"yes! we are sending you and marcus to denmark for two weeks to stage at this really great restaurant. you're gonna learn to do three new desserts for us. carmy knows the head pastry chef. says he's really cool so it should be fun, right?" sydney explained.

"that does sound fun! i'm in!" you smile.

you look at marcus who was deep in thought. if you had to guess what he was thinking, his mind is probably on his mom who was currently bed ridden at a hospital.

you put a hand on marcus' shoulder. "you good with that?" you ask your co pastry chef.

he broke out of his thoughts and nods. "yeah, i-i'm great. i'd love to."

"great! cause you guys really didn't have a choice. your flights are already booked for tomorrow afternoon sooo thanks!" sydney offers two thumbs and an awkward smile before she leaves what used to be the kitchen.

"holy shit," you whisper in shock. "staging at a michelin star restaurant in a country i've always wanted to visit. could this be any better?"

"i have to go tell my mom but give me a call if you need a ride to the airport tomorrow. chester will probably take me and we can swing by your place if you want?"

"dude, yes! that'd save me a shit ton of money that i would've spent on uber."

"cool, see you," marcus grabs his bag and heads out the door.

after helping fak, riche and gary with fallen ceiling debris, you decide to leave a bit early to pack and clean your apartment before your travel.

it was noon on the dot the next day when marcus calls to check if you were ready for the airport. since you packed the night before, you had a rather peaceful morning. chester talks your ear off the whole way to the airport and you guys get there he demands to see your passports because he wants to make sure you and marcus actually had it on you.

"chester, can you do me a favour and check in on my ma when you get the time?" marcus asks.

"dude, i'm way ahead of you. gonna check on her every morning on my way to work,"

"i appreciate it."

chester looks at both you. "now, i want you take a deep breath and let the good in. you guys are gonna kill it."

you grin at marcus' friend. "thanks chester. okay we're gonna have to leave now before we miss our flight."

marcus says his farewell to his best friend and the two of you head to your gate.

the plane ride to copenhagen was smooth despite marcus' worries. you guys hop on a train to explore the city before heading to where you were staying.

"trains here are way cleaner than the ones in chicago," marcus leans over to whisper.

"waay cleaner," you agree.

the two of you exited the station and stood in awe of your view. clear blue skies. cool fresh air. colourful buildings. and the smell of hotdogs which was incredibly appealing after your long journey.

you and marcus lock eyes. "oh yeah."

marcus got a hotdog with dried onions and pickles on top while you had a plain jane moment with just ketchup.

"this is the best thing i've ever put in my mouth," you say with in between bites.

"just what i needed honestly," marcus says.

after your quick meal, the two of you continue to wander the city taking in the architecture most of all.

marcus was using the maps feature on his phone to find the place you were supposed to be staying at.

"uh i don't see any apartment buildings near," you say. "are you sure we are in the right place?"

marcus led you to a canal where some boats were docked. "i am 99.9% sure. you're staying in 286 and i'm in 287."

you glance at the boat in front of you and saw the gold numbers plaque on the side. "well, mystery solved. this is your place and i'm guessing this one is mine." you moved further down to the boat behind marcus' one.

"sick," he smiles.

"i'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"night, y/n!"

you walk down a couple of steps before unlocking a door that lead to a kitchen and dining room. it was spacious and you were grateful for the many windows it had. the stairs to the left led up to the bedroom which was a lot smaller than you anticipated having only space for your bed and a small cabinet for clothes.

you flop on your bed and exhaled. you didn't realize how tired you were until your head hit the soft mattress and while everything in you wanted to knock out, you knew you had to get up and unpack because you wouldn't have time tomorrow.

one thing you were not was a morning person and yes you should have gotten used to it by now working in the restaurant industry but getting up at 4 a.m. will never feel natural. regardless, you had a twinge of excitement for your new job and excited to learn under this new chef that carmy spoke so highly of.

once you got ready for the day, you hear three soft knocks.

"morning," you say. "you ready?"

"born ready," marcus says as you lock your door and head to the restaurant.

it was only a 15 minute walk from where you were staying so the two of you arrive with time to spare.

you walk into the bright kitchen and suck in a breath. the kitchen was stunning with it's high-end equipment, gorgeous green tiling and the young hot chef moving bags of flour from one table to another.

"chef. i'm marcus brooks and this is y/n y/l/n," marcus begins. "and we're from-"

the chef looks up for a quick second. "i know. i'm luca, pastry. we start at 5 a.m. your section's at the end of the bench."

the english accent takes you by surprise. your knees could have buckled right then and there.

"yes, chef," the two of you say in unison.

now your excitement turned into nervousness. not only were you to create three star-worthy desserts for the bear, you had to learn from someone who is so extremely good looking it hurts.

marcus and you head to the back to change into your uniforms which was a basic indigo t-shirt and a green apron like luca had.

when you went back out, you immediately wash your hands and got ready for whatever luca had in store for you guys.

luca had marcus rollout croissant pastry while he led you to a table where he had prepared a dessert. your task was to place pieces of peanuts at a certain angle as part of its presentation.

you study luca as he shows you what to do. he had small black tattoos scattered up and down his arms. that alone is having an effect on you.

"here, you try," he says passing the tweezers to you.

your fingers brush as you took the small tool from him. luca didn't make eye contact but you did notice his jaw clench.

"nuzzle that sliver into the pudding just to lock it in."

"yes, chef," you say.

taking one of the small nuts from the bowl, you place it on the pudding but it slipped last second.

"no. again, chef," he says in a calm yet assertive tone.

"sorry," you say and try again and it's worse which luca picks up on.

"hm, worse."

he takes the tweezers from you and picks up the piece. "don't be afraid to just stick it in there, you know," luca takes the nut and slides it in perfectly. "just be confident about it."

"don't second-guess yourself," he says finally locking eyes with you.

you nod. "yes, chef."

you took the tweezers back and third time was the charm because you placed the nut in the pudding just like he'd showed you. smiling to yourself, you put the tool down.

luca's face stays expressionless. he looks up from the dessert. "you know how to make shiso gelee?"

you absolutely do not know how to make whatever he just said but there was no way you were gonna let him know that.

"yes, chef."

"alright."

luca steps away to grab some ingredients which gives you the opportunity to whip your phone out and google the gelee. "dextrose? what the fuck is that?" you whisper to yourself.

luca came back and places a tray in front you. "recipe," he says tapping some blue index cards.

you felt your face burn. "thank you, chef."

end of part 1 omggg. not much luca x reader but it’s warming up trust me. i already have ideas for part 2 and 3 with some potential alternate endings... stay tuned

if you enjoyed, please let me know (through my bio) if you have any the bear requests, send them my way!

[uceyliyahh]

UNDER YOUR TOUCH

Summary: After her difficult breakup, Tiana wanted to start anew with her life. That's when she realized her life would be better when she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 4665

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Tiana

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️ @pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02

@bebesobrielo @biancasreign @punksyeet @papireigns-05 @paigereeder @yana3sworld @aikosilo @fearlesschimera

@zillasvilla @partypoison00 @skyesthebomb @mselenalovebug @magnificentbouquetmusic @xbriexx @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @hunnidmilly

18.

TIANA Since I had today off, I spent it watching Baddies Caribbean upstairs in my room. I also considered improving my nail salon as soon as I had saved up enough money to allow me to do the things I needed to do.

I noticed that Trinity had texted me while I was watching my show, so I took my phone off the charger and retrieved it from the dresser.

IMESSAGE 💬 Trin🤭🫶🏽: Hey baby girl! I was just checking up on you. Tiana: Hey, I'm fine Trin just watching my show yk Trin🤭🫶🏽: yeah, have you spoken to your future husband yet? Tiana: Um no I haven't heard from him today why? Did something happen? Trin🤭🫶🏽: Damn ig he didn't tell you Tiana: 🤨🤨 wym? Trin🤭🫶🏽: oh...nothing, nothing girl Tiana: un-unt don't do that girl spill it now Trin🤭🫶🏽: Tiana yk I can't because Josh will kill me if I do so sorry. 😭😭 Tiana: omg yall is honestly scaring me Trin🤭🫶🏽: 😭😭

What the hell was happening today? And what the hell is Trinity talking about, a surprise? I mean, don't get me wrong; I love me some surprises, but this one seems a bit unfamiliar to me.

I brushed off the feeling while scrolling through my socials and seeing what everyone was posting on their stories. Ever since Malakai got sentenced to prison, I've been receiving threats from his people, including Kehlani, but I didn't let that bother me because they're so delusional, just like him.

I saw that my man had posted something. Since he was sweating in the video about his story, I assumed that he had gone to the gym for a little bit.

'God, he looked so fucking fine. I just wanna suck him up so badly.'

While I was eye fucking my man, I heard a knock on my bedroom door, seeing Bianca coming in with my favorite white roses.

I raised an eyebrow, looking at her. "B, what's going on?" This was honestly scaring me. I didn't know what was going on, and nobody was telling me anything.

"Oh, nothing, girl. Josh just bought you your favorite roses." She said.

"Bull shit B what's going on?" I said, folding my arms.

"Tiana, nothing is happening. Also, Jey said to be ready around nine tonight." After she said that, she left the room, leaving me dumbfounded.

I rolled my eyes as I placed the roses in a clear, clean vase. I walked towards my dresser, picking out some dresses that would be suitable for whatever Jey had planned.

rikishi replied to your story: My son will take care of you T uceyjucey replied to your story: you deserve them mama. ❤️ jonathanfatu replied to your story: you'll be so happy for tonight T. biancabelairwwe replied to your story: 🤭🤭 trinity_fatu replied to your story: you'll start crying for sure for tonight. shelovesemma replied to your story: be prepared for tonight girly.

Reading everyone's replies made me think about what Jey had planned for tonight. And what was everyone talking about?

✧.* JEY I was extremely excited about what I had planned for tonight. I couldn't wait to finally put a ring on her finger and call her my fiancée and, soon, my wife, too.

I made reservations at our favorite restaurant around nine, which she loves to go to. After we left the restaurant, I decorated my house with the help of Bianca, Trin, and Emma. I know that she'll love it.

I was at work getting a client's arm tattooed when I heard someone yelling up front. That's when I saw Kierra coming inside the room, and I looked up at her.

"What's goin' on, Keke?" I asked.

"Jey, I think your ex-girlfriend is here, and she's starting shit up front." She said with a perplexed expression on her face.

"Shit ight I'll handle it could you finish up his tattoo for me please?" She nodded her head while I went out of the room to see what was happening.

When I went towards the front, all I could see was Kehlani standing there with her arms folded. I just rolled my eyes. Her eyes darted towards my direction, and as she walked towards my direction, she almost slapped me in the face. That's when I held onto her wrist, giving her a stern expression.

"Kehlani, what the fuck are you doing here?" I asked sternly.

She scoffed at me as she yanked her arm away from my grasp. "Boy, why are you going to marry that bitch!"

"That's none of your business. We ain't even together anymore. We broke up like two years ago, Kehlani. Leave me alone, bro." She shook her head, standing there pouting like a little kid knowing damn well that doesn't work on me.

"No! I'm not leaving you, and that bitch got Kai in prison for five years for something he didn't do. She just made that all up!" She shouted as I stared at her in disbelief.

'She can't be fucking serious right now?'

I couldn't believe what I was hearing right now, her denying that Tiana was never abused and just "made it up" just to get attention when she's really the one trying to get attention.

"Girl, yo' ass is tripping right now; get out before I have somebody come handle yo' little ass." I threatened as she chuckled.

"Who will handle me? Because can't nobody handle me, baby." I rubbed both of my hands against my beard, nodding my head and smirking.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Tiana's phone number.

OTP Mamas🩷: Heyy Papi ZaddyJey🤍: Hey mama what you doing right now? Mamas🩷: I am at the salon getting my hair done why what's wrong? ZaddyJey🤍: send me some pics of it when you're done but can you come to my tattoo shop and handle a certain someone. Mamas🩷: babyyyy I'm going to mess up my hair if I deal with her ass ZaddyJey🤍: I'll pay for it to get it done again just please I can't put my hands on her and she don't wanna leave Mamas🩷: ight ight I'll be there in a little bit. ZaddyJey🤍: ight then mama love you Mamas🩷: love you too.

CALL ENDED

After she hung up, I put my phone back inside my pocket, folding my arms in the process. I stared at Kehlani, who also had her arms folded.

"Was that yo' bitch you just called? I will beat her ass in a heartbeat." Kehlani said confidently.

I chuckled at her, "Yeah, we will see."

"I will fuck her up, Jey, ion' why you're with her ass, including marrying her when you should be marrying me instead." I rolled my eyes at her.

"I don't marry cheaters, Kehlani, and you know that." I said.

✧.* I saw a black BMW pulling up towards my shop, knowing that it was Tiana coming from the salon, and damn, she looked so good right now.

Walking in wearing this cute ass all brown one-piece along with some Nike Dunks can't believe to say that this is all mine. Her eye went towards my direction, then towards Kehlani's, and she rolled her eyes at her coming towards my direction.

She wrapped her arms around my neck as my hands snaked around her ass cheeks, giving them a good squeeze before kissing her on her thick lips.

I gave her a few more kisses, pulling away in the process.

"Girl, you need to go ahead and leave because ion' have time to mess up my hair." Tiana said as Kehlani chuckled at her.

"Whatever, you weren't going to do a damn thing anyway. Pick me bitch." She spat as Tiana walked up to her, grabbing her by the hair.

Tiana dragged Kehlani outside, throwing her on the concrete ground while she winched in pain, holding her body. This was something interesting to watch as I stood there seeing my fiancée handling business.

"I'm not going to warn yo' ass again; don't bring yo' ass back here," Tiana warned.

Kehlani got up from the ground, holding onto her stomach, and glared at us as she tried to run up on Tiana again, causing her to push her into the pole.

Tiana grabbed her by the hair and punched her in the face while Kehlani was covering her head, trying to protect herself.

She stopped fixing her hair and backed up away from me as she stood next to me. I snaked my hand around her waist, kissing her on the cheek, and watched Kehlani struggle to get up.

"God girl, you're so pathetic, man; go do something with your life and leave us alone. Can't you see that we're happy?" She said.

I'm not going to lie. Tiana looked so good. Being all worked up and worried about me just turned me on a little bit.

"I don't give a damn. He was mine first before you even came into the picture." Tiana rolled her eyes at her while folding her arms in the process.

"But you cheated on him, and he left you with someone better, and that someone is me, so you can go ahead and cry like a baby all you want."

Kehlani threw us the middle finger before getting inside her car and pulling out of the parking lot as Tiana and I stood there watching her leave.

"Damn, mama not goin' lie; you look good all worked up." I said.

"Well, I have to protect my man from people like her." She flipped her hair to the side, showing her side profile more.

"Ight ight but why don't you go home and get ready for tonight I'll come pick you up."

Tiana smiled at me as she wrapped her arms around my neck kissing me on the lips before removing her arms from my neck.

"What do you have planned? Like everyone has been weird today." Tiana asked.

I chuckled at her, knowing that I couldn't tell her, or it would just ruin it. "I'm not spilling, ma; you just goin' have to wait and see when I come get you." She rolled her eyes at me, giving me one more kiss on the lips before heading towards her car.

I took a slight peek at her ass while she walked towards her car, and damn, that's such a view for me to see.

I went back inside the shop, and Kierra was standing there looking at me.

"What's up, keke?" I asked.

"Wasn't that the same girl who got her tattoo covered up?" Kierra questioned.

"Yeah? That's my girlfriend, who will soon be my fiancée later on tonight." Once I said that, her face went into complete shock, and her lips parted.

I just chuckled at her facial expressions while heading towards my office.

✧.* OMNISCIENT Tiana was finishing getting ready for her date with Jey, which he had planned for them tonight. She didn't know what was happening or what he had planned, which made her nervous.

As she was getting ready, she saw her phone blow up. She grabbed it, seeing that Malakai's mother was sending her messages.

IMESSAGE 💬 Mrs Jackson sent 3+ messages

Mrs Jackson: I fucking hate you: you bitch now my son will be in prison for something he hasn't done! Mrs Jackson: all he did was love you and adore you! But you had to make these fake allegations against him Mrs Jackson: pick me bitch

Tiana read through the messages thoroughly and chuckled at them before blocking his mother and deleting her number. She checks herself out in the mirror, thinking to herself, 'damn, I look good for tonight. He is a fortunate man.'

"Tiana! Jey is at the door!" Bianca shouted.

Tiana ran and grabbed her purse and keys before heading downstairs to greet her man, who was standing there looking good as always. He never fails to look good.

He was wearing a button-down white top, some ripped jeans, and his white Air Forces, including his piercings on both ends of his ears. He also had a nice, fresh haircut.

She walked up towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands snaked around her waist, kissing her on the lips.

His lips became behind her ear, making sure nobody could hear what he was whispering to her.

"you look fine as fuck right now, baby; it makes me wanna put a baby inside of your pretty ass." Jey whispered, giving her ass a good grip.

"Joshhhh." Tiana whined softly as he chuckled at her pulling away from each other.

"C'mon, let's go before we are late." She nodded and walked out of the house toward his car.

He started the ignition to his car as he pulled out of the driveway driving to the restaurant.

Jey pulled out a blunt from his glove department and gave it to Tiana to light up for them. She took a few puffs of it before giving it back to him.

He placed his hand on her left thigh vibing out to the music that she was playing in the car as they were driving towards the place.

✧.* They finally made it to the restaurant as Jey blindfolded her, holding onto her waist and carefully walking her towards the door.

While he was doing that, the host walked them towards their tables. Tiana felt a breeze coming from outside, and Jey carefully sat her down in the chair.

When he removed the blindfold from her eyes, her face went wide as she looked at the view from the food and then outside, seeing everything.

He chucked at her reaction as she looked at him with a beaming smile.

"Oh my gosh, Josh, this is so beautiful, like from the view and everything." Tiana complimented.

"I mean, I had to make today special for a reason, but like I said, I won't be spoiling anything, " he said as she poured champagne into the glass next to them.

She couldn't stop looking at the view. It was such a beautiful view; in her eyes, everything looked so small. Tiana felt Jey grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the piano. While he put their glass of champagne down, he opened the piano and began playing Monica Love All Over Me.

Tiana couldn't help but admire her man playing the piano as she sipped off her drink, watching him. She leaned her head on his shoulders, closing her eyes.

He played the piano passionately, kissing Tiana on top of her head and smiling in the process.

After their dinner together, Jey made Tiana cover her eyes yet again, which she hated because she wanted to see what it was, but he wasn't going to let her.

He unlocked his door, taking her upstairs. She carefully walked into the living room, signaling Trin, Bianca, Emma, Montez, and Jon to come out in front. He then removed his hands from her eyes.

Tiana covered her mouth with a shocked expression. When she turned around, she saw Jey on one knee with a ring in his hand.

As everyone was recording this precious moment, she couldn't help but have tears forming in her eyes.

"Tiana ever since I met you that day at my tattoo shop I just knew that you were the one for me I've been through everything with you just how you have with me you have a special place in my heart and I don't regret it mama will you marry me? And be with me forever?" Jey confessed, waiting for Tiana's answer.

Tears flowed down her cheeks as she nodded her head, "Yes," and gave him a hug. He hugged her tightly, tears coming down his cheeks as well.

Everyone around them was cheering and crying happy tears, including Bianca and Montez, who were so happy for their best friend to finally be happy.

They pulled away from each other as Tiana wiped his tears from his face while he did the same to her. He put the ring on her finger; it fitted her finger perfectly, along with the promise ring that she still had.

He cupped both of her cheeks together, placing a soft kiss on her lips. Montez and Bianca ran up to her, giving her a huge hug.

"Tink, you're officially a fiancée girl!" Bianca said excitedly.

"I know I am so fucking happy man." Tiana said.

Trinity came up behind her excitedly. "Welcome to the club, babygirl! " she chuckled at her while staring at Jey, who was dabbing it up with Montez and Jon as they congratulated him.

"Yall were in on this huh." She asked.

"Yeah, of course." They both said at the same time. Tiana just rolled her eyes at them.

✧.* Everyone left Jey's house while Tiana was upstairs in the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. She was wearing her lacy red bra and cheeky panties, which Bianca had bought her.

She was fixing her hair before putting in her silky robe turning the door knob seeing Jey lying down on his phone, not even looking her way.

He looked up at her, saw her wearing a silky robe, and tried to figure out what was hiding underneath.

When she loosened the robe and dropped it on the floor, his eyes widened and he fought to regulate his breathing. He was staring at her up and down, so she went onto bed.

His eyes tracked her motions as he placed his phone down, like if she were prey. Tiana straddled into his lap, removing his shirt in the process. He was allowing her to take charge of the situation, something he never did.

She began rubbing all over his chest as he felt his breath become irregular, and she kissed him all over his body. She carried on, seeing him squirm under her touch.

Tiana placed her lips on his neck as she heard a groan escaping from his lips, he gripped onto both of her ass cheeks tightly as he thrust his hips making her feel how hard he was getting for her and only her.

She snaked her fingers down his shorts and into his PSD red boxers, stroking his dick up and down, making him roll his eyes in the back of his head. His lips parted as he murmured gently into her ear as she continued to stroke it, driving him wild.

"F-fuck...mama.." Jey moaned.

Trying to get control of the situation, he clutched her throat firmly while sitting up, his eyes dark and lusty. Placing his lips on hers, fiercely tongue kissing her down her throat while pinning her to the bed, regaining control and authority, he was taken aback by what she did.

"Yo' ass finna get it little mama." He said in a raspy tone.

SMUT WARNING Jey had her arms pinned behind her back as he was beating her shit in; his lips were tucked in while throwing his head back.

He looked down at his view seeing her ass jiggling through his strokes, hearing her sweet soft moans escaping her lips.

It was music to his ears

Slapping her left ass cheek as she whined giving her these punishing strokes while she tried to push him away despite her arms being pinned behind her back.

"D-daddy Please..." Tiana begged.

"Nah take this fucking dick." Jey grunted gripping onto her hips tightly.

'Come with me, come with me Come with me, come with me (You're so fuckin' nasty)'

She couldn't take it, attempting to get away from his strokes, which prompted Jey to grasp a full load of her hair, yank her back, and fuck her senselessly. He made her eyes roll in the back of her skull.

"Shit Joshua..."

"What's up mama?" He says with a raspy tone fucking her balls deep.

Her walls were clenching around him, causing a groan to escape his lips while looking down at his dick sliding in and out of her wetness.

'Came across an oasis in the Mojave Follow any instructions of your body I bottle that shit up, pour it and sip (Bottle, bottle, bottle, bottle, bottle, bottle)'

Her essence was covering up all over his dick, which satisfied him. He let go of her hair pulling out of her as she wailed like a baby going onto the bed lying down, indicating her to come mount him like a pony.

She got onto him reversed cowgirl style, holding onto legs for support while she stuck it back inside of her and began bouncing up and down on it.

Jey watched while keeping his hands behind his head, enjoying his view. He loved the way she rode it like a big girl.

"Yeah, keep ridin' that dick, baby. You doin' so good, mama." He cooed, slapping her ass.

"Uhn, Daddy, this dick feels so good, fuckk." Tiana moaned.

Her skin was slapping against his stomach as she continued to bounce on it while the whole room was filled with her moans and skin slapping.

'Girl, you should taste the water from your well (Bottle, bottle, bottle, bottle, bottle) You ain't gotta tell me what you like, she say it for you'

Meanwhile, Jey sat up with a malicious smirk on his face, clutching her waist and driving his hips up, slamming her shit in as she moaned loudly.

"Joshhhhh oh my goddd."

"Un-Huh ma take this shit, take it." He growled fucking her vigorously.

'I just wanna fuck you 'til you cry, vintage Dior you I need you to hold it 'til you can't, I'll reward you (I can't, no, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't)'

This man had her seeing stars, and she couldn't stop rolling her eyes as he proceeded to assault her moist cunt while she was miserable and defeated by him. "This my pussy mama?" He questioned her as she tilted her head to look into his eyes and nodded.

She couldn't even grasp or say the words because she was so overwhelmed by the pressure and wonderful agony she was experiencing. 

Until he grabbed her firmly by the throat maintaining that eye contact that they had. "I'm not repeating myself baby."

"Y-yes daddy! this is yours all yours!" She mewled weakly.

He rolled her over on her back, putting his dick deep inside her in a missionary position while they kept eye contact. Their foreheads are touching as they watch his dick enter and exit her. He kissed her thick lips, holding her throat in the process.

"Talk to me baby, I'm hitting that shit?" Jey grunted.

"Yes Josh yes." Her facial expression scrunched up a bit which Jey took notice knowing that she was going cum so he sped up his pace.

'So, come with me, come with me Come with me, come with me'

Circling his hips and hitting her spot drove her insane, seeing her break beneath him. She clawed his back badly, forcing him to hiss at the agony in his back.

"Scratch me up all you want princess, fuck you're so beautiful."

"Hmm...shit shit shit daddy."

"Keep calling for me baby I'm right here daddy's right here mama."

His beautiful rhetoric turned her on even more, and he marked her up with wet kisses on the neck, letting her know that he was hers and she was his.

'Cuida'o si me pide' duro, que voy y te enchulo Ahora no me suelta', baby, raro que no te haga un baby.'

As Jey continued to pound into her gushy insides, he felt his dick twitching inside her, tucking the bottom of his lip while watching her take his dick like a champ. She could feel it all the way through her gut, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she covered her face to hide it.

'Si quito el seguro, vuelve' de seguro Ay, sí, tocándote así, yo muero ahí Mami, que Dios nos perdone, pero si ven las conversacione', bueno'

What she didn't realize was that Jey had taken note when he withdrew her hands from her face and pinned them down.

"Lemme' see how good I'm fucking you I wanna watch you cum on this dick." He rasped.

"Fuck Josh fuckkkk." Tiana moaned softly gripping on his shoulders.

'Tal ve' no entienden, pichea a la gente y vamo' a empezar de cero La muerdo y le dejo un tattoo, pregunto si le gusta ahí, mmm Yo sé, baby, yo sé, la que se puso a probar fuiste tú'

Tiana let out a loud gasp and rolled her eyes in the back of her head, cumming all over him, while Jey watched her do exactly that. She couldn't stand it any longer, feeling sensitive and her legs shaking violently as Jey held her still, forcing his dick deep inside of her. Jey gasped as he gently thrusted his hips into her, revealing his seeds blended with her essence trickling from her.

SMUT OVER

'Come with me, come with me (Sabe' que te gusta, se siente cabrón, yeah, yeah, oh) Come with me, come with me (Por ley que le caigo si estás home alone)'

Tiana's body shook violently, and she placed her hands on her chest to help her breathing, keeping her eyes closed for a while. Meanwhile, Jey went to the bathroom, using a cloth with warm water to wipe up Tiana. He noticed her shaking, her eyes closed, as he stroked her legs to calm her down. His touch made her feel at ease, and when she opened her eyes, she saw him standing there.

'Come with me, come with me (Ahí mismo, oh, en 4K frente a la cámara, te muevo por toda la recámara, los recibo' están en las sábana') Come with me, come with me (Se prende más con la luz apagá')'

"You okay baby? Did I go to rough on you?" Jey asked softly.

"N-no you're fine love." Tiana softly said.

"Ight imma start us up a nice warm bath okay?" She nodded her head yes as she watched him disappear in the bathroom. She looked at her ring along with her promise ring on her finger.

Tiana couldn't believe that she is engaged now to the man she will soon call her husband.

Under Your Touch.

zillafatu, romanreigns, shelovesemma and others liked your post.

tianasworld: guys I said yes! he went all out for me for this special moment to happen I am so happy to be called Mrs Fatu I love you so much baby🥹💍 @ uceyjucey

uceyjucey: you deserve it all baby you know imma spoil yo' ass rotten Mrs Fatu 😮‍💨🫶🏼 tianasworld: @ uceyjucey 😩😩 biancabelairwwe: I AM SO HAPPY FOR YOU TINK! FINALLY MY BESTIE CAN BE HAPPY AND NOW I CAN CALL JOSHUA BROTHER-IN-LAW🙂🙂 tianasworld: @ biancabelairwwe PLEASE LOOK WHAT YOU DID JOSHUA😭😭 zillafatu: cuzzo popped the question out? okayy I see you I'm happy for yall shelovesemma: I am happy bro like what 🥹 trinity_fatu: welcome to the club babygirl! romanreigns: happy for yall ❤️ rikishi: proud of yall two ❤️ tianasworld: @ rikishi thanks pops ❤️🫶🏼

Read all comments.

tianasworld replied to your story: I am so honored to be Mrs Fatu baby 🥹🩷 jonathanfau replied to your story: finally no mo teasing you put a ring on her finger 😭 biancabelairwwe replied to your story: BROTHER-IN-LAW!! zillafatu replied to your story: I am proud of you cuzzo lmk when the wedding happens most def be there 🫡🫡 rikishi replied to your story: proud of you son ❤️ theylovekehlani replied to your story: you're fucking kidding me right? 😐 trinity_fatu replied to your story: YESSSS

A/N: Tiana is now engaged y'all 🥹 I am so happy for her but what the fuck is they goin' to do with Kehlani ass? She just a pick me atp I'm tired of her ass I'm author and I am tired of her ass is diabolical 😭😭

Also do yall like it when I add the lyrics to the spicy scenes? Or nah? Me personally it brings out more imagination.

THEYRE BACK IN BUSINESS BABY!!! in my opinion I feel like they rushed this a little bit but hey I'm not complaining 💁🏽‍♀️

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments.

Stay Ucey.

[samstclair]

Tommy Shelby's Barmaid

Tommy Shelby X Reader

Anonymous Request - 

Good morning/afternoon/evening/night Sammy Sammy yes I am! So check this out - I just saw Oppenheimer and came to the conclusion that I really miss seeing Cillian Murphy's face. So that night I began rewatching Peaky Blinders and am just in awe. So you know the point. I want to be his barmaid. No hate to Grace, love her, but let a girl just imagine. And that's where you come in. So yeah I wanna be his barmaid and sing to him. Maybe we're off to the races? Do your thing or else I'll might do a thing and report your account! :)

Word Count: pretty long

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And where are we off to, Miss?" 

"One ticket to London, please!" you told the airport cashier, (or whatever they're called I'm not sure tbh), with your gleeful, bimbo smile. "The UK, one, thought. Not the Ohio one! Can't have that happening again!"

The lady didn't respond, she instead gave you a soft customer service fake ass laugh pretending she knew full well what you were talking about and kept her eyes down on the computer, securing that flight. You no longer trusted yourself to use computers or laptops, thanks to those Benadryl pills you used to be addicted to. But now that you were evicted from your New York apartment, you lost those pills in the process, and honestly all of your personal shit, so you've been forced to quit cold turkey and was actually experiencing withdrawals at the very moment. But, you couldn't let anyone know this! You needed to leave America fast. 

"Okay, to confirm your name, Y/L/N, Y/F/N, correct?" 

"Yes, ma'am!" You passed her your credit card and she did her magic, charging you a fuck ton of money!

The printer pooped out your ticket and she passed both that and your card back to you. 

"Enjoy your flight. Safe travels," the lady wished you. 

"Oh my god, girl, you too!" you wished back. You turned around and found your terminal, buying an expensive Starbucks drink of your choice and plopping your big butt down on a chair. You sat and looked around, sipping your coffee like a mother, taking in your surroundings of this little JFK airport they got going on. 

"I'm really a world traveler right now...like, I'm on some Lewis and Clark shit right now," you thought to yourself. 

You looked down at your luggages, or perhaps, just luggage. All that remained after your eviction just filled one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase you bought from TJ Maxx. You also had your rare vintage Juicy Couture purse you bought from Depop, thats faux leather was literally peeling off like dead skin, filled with all your essentials - lip gloss, nearly dead Elf Bar, crumpled up two-year-Goodwill old receipts, wired headphones because that's what cool people use walking down the street, crystals, loose hair ties, a baby Calico Critter, wire-exposed phone charger, and more that aren't too important to mention. You did miss all your other knick knacks and items that were lost, but since you were traveling light you 1. saved more money since it was just carry-on and 2. looked mysterious, just a girl on the road on her own adventure. 

"After all, items are just like - items. Things." you thought, trying to convince yourself that all material items are just not real and people don't really need those things. This is what you repeated to yourself over and over but in all honesty it wasn't helping. You were fucking pissed you lost all your shit. 

With all your items was your go-to airport fit - a Juicy baby blue tracksuit. So now you resorted to old PJ's you had shoved to the bottom depths of your drawer, wrinkled to the house boots down and forgotten of existence. They were a pair of Nike shorts and a baby tee that read "I <3 Surfer Boys". You then looked down to your white Crocs with the knock-off Jibblitz - the ootd would just have to do. 

As you sat in your terminal, waiting, you thought about what adventures UK would bring to you. You wondered what people you'd encounter, what new storylines you'd get wrapped into, what NPCs would say to you - it really did feel like you were fast-traveling into another country in a video game. 

Safe to say, you were ready for liftoff! Whenever that liftoff! would be because your flight was delayed like three times cause that's just airport things! This was the start of a new adventure! New and humble beginnings! No more America and their never-ending obsession with you committing financial fraud or whatever the IRS loved to say! But never mind that don't ask don't PUSH!!!!!!

Some hours later, you were finally able to board your flight. By this time, let's just say - people were fucking pissed about their flight being delayed, but you didn't really mind it. Yes, you were in a big time rush to leave America as soon as possible, but all that time waiting allowed you to finish the only downloaded show on your phone: LPS Popular. Shit was finally getting heated, Savannah Reed was def the no nonsense type of girl you envisioned yourself to be. 

Anyway whatever you boarded on, took your window seat and went through the usual bullshit of waiting for everyone to board on and take off and turbulence and random ass baby crying and shitty food and whatever. 

About a half hour in the sky, you looked through the catalogue of movies available - none which caught your interest. 

However, after scrolling for another half hour - you found the one. 

"Oh my god, a movie about two lovers flying in the sky staring Cillian Murphy and Rachel McAdams?!" you thought excitedly. "That's some good shit right there."

You hit that play button, scooted deeper into that seat, propped your patas up, and was subsequently locked IN for the short ass movie Red Eye. 

The majority of the plot went over your head because you were to entranced with the Irish actor's cunty little face, sassy little attitude and blue big orbs for eyes, causing you to replay certain scenes over and over. (Specifically that bathroom scene. You didn't miss SHIT there). That hour and a half passed by and the movie had finished. Safe to say, you were NOT expecting any of that shit to go down.

"If that were me, I'd call that fucking hotel before he even told me to. Shit. I get Mark Wahlberg, if I was on that plane, things really would have gone differently," you thought, shaking your head. ]

After your almost seven hour flight, you had finally made it to London Town. It was indeed a stormy day, he was right, but you could go outside and roam around, contrary to popular belief. In order to prep for this trip, you stuck to just watching British films, trying to get an overall vibe of what those little redcoats were like. Pride and Prejudice (2005), Love Actually, Trainspotting, Little Women (Greta's version), Clockwork Orange, Barry Lyndon - let's just say, your Letterboxd was going crazy. You sobbed pretty disgustingly to all of them, except Trainspotting and Clockwork, which made you feel just icky. And Barry Lyndon just made you angry fuck that guy fr. 

A/N - I just realized that Little Women, both Greta's version and the older 90s Winona Ryder one take place, in FACT, America. Oops! So yeah disregard move on u horndog <3

You once thought you were well-rounded on what chaos was, after all, you've been 1. in theater school, 2. briefly in the Medellin cartel, 3. worked in corporate America - but all of those experiences looked like fun Sunday pastimes the moment you stepped your fat butt off of the plane into London's Heathrow airport. Nothing could've prepped you for this shit. Too many people all doing different things in different directions was NOT your favorite place to be in! Let's just say - shit was hectic. 

You boarded off, left your terminal and gathered your one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and bolted the fuck out, running at your highest speed possibly, your Crocs locked in their sports mode, you just ran. It's what you did best, your superpower some might say. Maybe since Ezra Miller is canceled for being a kidnapper, you could possibly replace the Flash? Who knows tbh. 

You ran so fast, miles and miles, (kilometers here!), you didn't realize you were now standing in front of the Big Ben. It was, admittedly, pretty big. Too bad you couldn't read time like that. 

You looked down to your phone to see your receipt - you needed to be back in three hours for your next flight to Glasgow, Scotland - your actual destination. This London shit? Yeah it was only a layover. But you couldn't miss it. 

You ended up missing it. You fell asleep on the big red bus, thinking you could sneak a little tour in before having to return for your next flight. By the time you woke up, it was morning, and you were alone, just you and your carry on. 

"Ello Miss? Miss?" 

Your eyes fluttered, adjusting to the brightness. A big English dude with missing and fucked up teeth was poking you awake. 

"Bro what?" you muttered, pushing yourself up. 

"Miss, it seems you've drifted off to sleep," the man said.

"Wait," you collected your thoughts, looked around at your surroundings, then down to your phone - your flight was seven hours ago. You felt your heart fall to the acidic pits of your stomach - 

"Ain't no fucking way I'm stuck in London", you blurted out.  "AIN'T NO FUCKING WAY!"

As if you took ten shots of DayQuil, you jumped up, scrambled for your shit and rocked the bus side to side as your Crocs took you across it, out to the exit and back onto the cobblestone streets of London Town. It was cloudy as always. 

"Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh no. NO I CAN'T DO THIS I CAN'T!" you yelled, running back towards the direction of that hell of an airport. You needed to get back. You NEEDED to get back to Scotland, you literally saw Trainspotting just for Scotland!

But alas, it was too late. By the time you made it back to Heathrow, there was no refunding. You would have to pay another fat BUCK to get on another flight. 

"Oh fuck that," you told the English lady. You walked back out, no way this little kingdom was gonna make a profit off of your ass. "I'd rather walk!"

And then you began to walk. Not run, you were a little hungry and needed some energy for that amount of dedication. 

You stopped by a tea place and thought that you might as well have a crumpet or whatever, which sucked ass. They charged so much for what?  A pastry with like three grams of sugar? Girl bye. 

You sat on the curb, looking down at your phone and opening a map, you could literally just walk to Scotland. Yeah it'd be a pretty fat walk, but you might get a crazy BBL ass for free from all the walking. 

"Babes? Are you alroight?" you heard a strong British voice call. You turned and there it was - a chav. A real fucking chav. 

"Oh my god, you guys exist?"

She furrowed her dark over-filled brows as she smacked her nude-lipsticked lips on a piece of gum. There were other chavs behind her, all bleach blonde, overly tan and red ass cheeks. It was like your friend group, but in an alternate universe. 

"Wot?" she asked again, more confused than offended. 

"Listen girl, I don't know if you can tell - but I'm not from here. I need to get to from the UK to Scotland. How does a girl like me do that?"

"Babes? Yor in the UKay, loike, this is London?"

"Huh?" you asked, like Trisha Paytas in the car. 

"Babes," another chimed in, "the UKay is loike, mooltiple places poot into one? Loike, England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales -"

"Oh, so they're all like, the same?"

Their faces dropped with fear. 

"Babes, don't say that. I've just met you, but I'd definitely tell you loike, don't say that around other peepol," the main chav warned. 

"Especially the Irish, yeah," another said. "They'd be mentool."

"Oh, no worries here. I'm an ally to all," you assured, "so do you know where I can rest for the night?"

"Babes!" the chav said excitedly, "I've got family in Birmingham! It's up norf, already on the way for yor travels! I'll text me nana so you can stay there fo free!"

"Babes," you said, you're cheap frugal ass getting hyped, "you're such a babe! Thanks girlie!"

You ended up dropping some money to take an Underground from London to Birmingham, because you then really realized your Crocs could only momentarily take you so far. Also, tat withdrawal wasn't doing you any favors. Anyway you enjoyed the ride, drinking some complimentary tea with your headphones in and disassociating as you looked out the window into the cement walls. You started to regret not bringing some sort of sweater because who would've thought a baby tee and Nike shorts would be enough. Shit was chilly. 

You stepped off into the platform, feeling a strong GUST of wind rush past you. You first kinda enjoyed it like it was some sort of main character moment, but the moment that ghastly smell of smoke hit your nostrils - you went frozen like Mitch McConnell. 

"Jeeeeeesus CHRIST!" you bellowed, "who fucking farted?"

You looked around, but soon became even more confused. Everyone was giving you the hardest stares you've ever received in your lifetime. But it wasn't their stares, no, you've been stared at before for worst things, it was cause of their - fits. 

Everyone was dressed like some 1900s shit. It reminded you of the show Downton Abbey, the show your old boss Logan Roy used to binge. Little particles of what looked like dandruff floated around you and everything else just seemed gray. 

"Wait, are you guys filming?" you asked in your bimbo self, smiling, "did I just walk onto set?"

No one replied. They really thought you were insane. There you were - rough looking, mid-withdrawal, I <3 Surfer Boys, old high school Nike shorts, Crocs, Five Below socks, Dollar Store sunnies, Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and Juicy bag, Elf bar in one hand and your phone with dangling earbuds wrapped around it. They were petrified. 

You grew angry. You just stood there as they stood there too - both you and the Downton Abbey cosplayers were in a stand off.  

"Okay whatever," you said, rolling your eyes. "Stay hating!"

You whipped around and began walking down the pavement, calling, or as the English say "ringing", that chav's nana. However, it rang and rang, you dialed and dialed, the lady was not picking up. 

"Um, what the fuck?" you said looking down at your phone, "can this girl pick up?"

You continued to dial, your other hand to your waist like a Karen. You continued to look around as it rang, really impressed with the set. 

It had been very foggy, and the cobblestone roads led down between old brick buildings where people in their 1920's costumes walked along, smoking and dodging the occasional explosion from the coal-burning coming from inside the buildings. Horses were trotting, carrying hay and other shit. People were yelling in their crazy accents and the dandruff kept raining down. Pillars up in the sky let out dark clouds of smoke. That gross exhaust smell still lingered, and no matter how much Nicki Minaj body spray you put on yourself, there was no way to mask it. 

"Great. I'm homeless AGAIN!" you thought, giving up on that nana. "Whatever. I didn't even want a roof to sleep under anyway. C'est la vie honestly."

The stares did not cease. In fact, it got worse. You knew you were hot but like what the fuck can't a girl just walk and bitches mind their business?

Things were getting worse. The cobblestone ass road made it hard for you to pull your suitcase, so you were just essentially dragging it, you phone was on ten percent, you were hungry and thirsty because let's be real you did not eat much on that train, and honestly just over it. 

You passed all the workers, dodged some random explosions, evaded random running children, spit some of that dandruff out of your mouth. Safe to say, you were angry but needed to persevere!

Eventually it was nighttime. You couldn't really tell if it was night or if it was just the pollution in the air at first, but after asking a random man he assured you it was indeed nighttime. 

"I don't know how you guys live with all this dandruff," you told him, shaking your head. "You guys must be getting paid good as extras."

"Dandruff?" the man said, "that's ash, luv!"

"Thank god, that makes more sense. I was thinking I was gonna need to buy some Heads and Shoulders. I hate Heads and Shoulders."

He continued to look at you weird while he smoke his, what you were pretty sure in the span of you two talking, sixth cigarette. "Heads and shoulders? Fuck are they to do with your hair?"

"I know, horrible branding. I feel bad for the people in Pompeii. They probably thought it was like, a dandruff epidemic."

Eventually the man directed you to the Garrison, which was supposed to be this pub or whatever that all the locals hit up. You really just wanted a drink of water and like Taco Bell or something. Maybe a "Macky D's"? By the time you made it to the establishment, it was midnight, since you took forever cause you kept getting lost. 

It was situated in a weird spot, where several men would occasionally run out and throw up bad on the dirt floor. It sounded hella noisy and rough in there, which was something you were not looking forward to. But again, you're hungry. 

"I'm fucking starving," you thought to yourself as you pushed those heavy doors open, your suitcase getting caught in them. A surge of anger caused you to yank it past the swinging door, causing the it to slam against the wall and crack the glass. You got scared cause you didn't wanna pay for it, so you applied the "hear nothing, see nothing" tactic. It always worked <3

Nothing could've prepared you for when you entered. The energy was just not it. Heathrow vibes for sure. Hoards of drunk ass English men doing, well, things that drunk English men do. They were yelling, cursing, fighting, just being overall very annoying and overwhelming. It took you by surprise, you were just in awe that English were real. It was literally like a Call of Duty lobby but the English colonized it as they always do.  

"These motherfuckers are crazy bro," you thought to yourself, getting a seat at the bar. The bartender made his way to you, and after some hesitation on his end, he finally spoke. 

"Em, what can I get you, ma'am?" he asked, looking at you confused. 

"Y'all got a menu?" 

"I'm sorry?"

"Food, bro. I want food." You were not having it. 

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid there's just drinks here."

"Fine, fucking alcoholics," you said, holding in your hangriness, "what about water?"

"Huh," he thought, "no one ever asks for water. I forgot we served it!"

He turned around and as he began to pour some crusty water into a dusty glass, you felt a tap on your shoulder. But before you could even turn to ask what the fuck whoever wanted what, another big burly English drunk dude was all up in your face. 

"ELLO MISS! MIGHT I HAVE A CHANCE AT BUYIN' YA A DRINK?"

You were flabbergasted. Dude REEKED of some ale. 

"Uh, you stink," was all you could muster, pressing your fingers on your nose. 

His face fell into a very angry one. "YOU FOOCKIN' JEZEBEL!"

You weren't sure what 'jezebel' meant so you just rolled your eyes and turned back to the new glass of water placed in front of you by the bartender, and before he could walk off you downed the entire thing. He, too, like McConnell, was frozen at your abilities. 

"Sorry about that man, Miss," the bartender said as he poured you another. "You're very pretty. Must be getting used to it by now around here."

"Yeah, like, about that," you started, taking your time with the water this time because you didn't know how much they had left in this place, "why is everyone cosplaying? Like, people here are DEEP into their character, which, don't get me wrong - I respect. I used to be a theater major myself, so I get it. But this is like, crazy. I know the English love their theater, but god."

The bartender, with a hypothetical gun to his head, could not for the life of him understand what the fuck you meant. You kinda got that vibe when he didn't reply right away. He actually looked worried for your mental wellbeing. 

"Um, why did you just like, disassociate?" you asked. 

"I'm sorry, Miss," he chuckled nervously, "you've just confused me, is all."

"Yeah, all that alcohol is giving you that early onset dementia. Do you know where I can get food around here?"

"Hmm," he thought, "I don't really know, to be honest with ya. And it's quite late, so I'm not sure what's open."

You could cry. You hated being hungry and tired at the same time, added to literally everything else that was happening around you. You were able to tune out the drunken men yelling behind you, but only to a point - mama was close to blowing. 

"Oh my GOD," you started. "WHAT'S A GIRL TO DO TO GET SOME FUCKING FOOD AROUND HERE?!" you caught yourself. The bartender was growing more concerned. "I'm sorry," you cleared your voice, "it's just like, your queen for real sucked."

"Queen?" he asked. 

"Wow, you're really dedicated to the craft. Like I said, I respect." You continued to drink your water. 

"How'd you end up here in London, anyway?" he asked, leaning against the counter. You later found out his name was Harry, like Styles. 

"Oh, buddy," you said, "what a story I have for you."

You then began to blabber on about what brought you to this point, which helped because it made you forget about your current grievances. Soon, the entire pub went dead quiet, tuned in to your story time. You felt like Tana Mongeau, and these were your viewers. You get why the majority of YouTubers were lowkey conceited. (Not Tana though she's funny love you girl <3). It was like a big kindergarten story time. 

About half an hour later, you were mid-way through. 

"And so, when my boss literally fucking died, I was like, 'oh shit, I've like lost my job by like, proxy'? It was scary."

"How'd he pass?" one of the drunk men asked. 

"Dude, get this. He died getting his phone out of the toilet. Like, some Elvis shit," realizing they wouldn't get what you just said, you thought it best to move right on, "anyway, I was like, 'maybe this is a good time to move on, maybe America isn't the place for me.' I was also wanted by the Men in Black, too. They don't fuck around."

"Who's the Men in Black?" Harry asked. 

"The IRA were after ya?" another asked, in shock.

"I. R.S. It's not important. So, after he died, one of his kids had to be chosen to take over the company. Imagine like a Game of Thrones sort of thing. My on-and-off boyfriend, Kendall, is the oldest so you'd think it'd be him, right? Like, his name was underlined and everything. Or crossed out, you know, is the dress blue and black or white and gold? The day of, I snuck into the building for the board meeting. I wasn't supposed to be there, cause you know, I'm not a share holder or whatever, but I thought 'if I act like nothing happened, maybe technically I'm NOT fired cause my boss died, maybe nobody will say anything?' Confidence takes you a loooong way let me tell you! So at the board meeting, I voted Kendall, but his stupid home alone ass brother Roman was like 'oh YOU'RE still here?'. Then he told me to fuck off and that I should've died with Logan? Could you believe that?"

They were all in shock, muttering angry English curse words to each other. 

"And then I was like, 'no fuck you. What ever happened to democracy? I don't have a vote?'. But whatever, Kendall didn't win and he left the building. No, Horton Hears a Who Tom won, and while everybody was celebrating I was like, 'guys? GUYS! ALL EYES ON WINDOWS! WHERE DID KENDALL GO? All eyes on windows!'. Then I got like, kicked out or whatever. I kept spamming Kendall, texting him and calling him and nothing. Like 'Kenny, wya???'. He was ghosting me. Then I saw right after he put his phone on Do Not Disturb. Targeted, really. I saw his location at Central Park, facing the water, and this had me WORRIED. Kendall and bodies of water? Yeah they don't mix well. I needed to talk to him before he jumped! But when I got there, his new dumbass body guard was like, 'Can you leave? He's not seeing anyone'. I kept calling him, and he wouldn't turn to look at me. He was like, mega dissociating watching that horizon."

"Must've killed him that he's no longer the number one boy," a drunken English man said, somber. 

"Def," you said.

"So you and Kendall?" another asked.

"No more. He never picked up, so I thought we were done," the men in the bar were devastated. "Yeah, really sad. I already mourned, though. So, yeah, I was like, 'what do I do now?' Logan gave me some money, so I can really just do anything? I was walking down the streets of New York and saw a random man in a suit I thought was the IRS, and it hit me - I'm lowkey a fugitive? I need to like, leave. Logan isn't there to protect me anymore, you know? And then it hit me - I'll go to Scotland! In Logan's honor! Like, his hometown. Plus, I thought Scotland didn't have extradition, but it was actually Venezuela. But it's okay, same shit. And that's why I'm here."

"But this is Birmingham?" another man said. 

"Oh, yeah, don't worry I fully aware. But yeah, that's it."

Again, the pub had been silent. They'd been intrigued, captivated. You waited for someone to speak up and break the silence, but about two minutes later you realized that wasn't gonna happen. 

"Okay? Anyway, so nothing to eat here?" you asked Harry. 

He shook his head, stunned. You then slowly crept off the chair, gathered your shit and saw your way out. "Weirdos," you thought. 

You exited back out, it was now fully dark with few lampposts shining light onto the falling dandruff. It all reminded you of exactly where you were - stuck. 

You slumped against the wall, onto the ground where you didn't see any of the mud that splashed all over your shorts. You were too tired and over it to give a fuck. You pulled out your phone, and saw the battery on 2%. 

"Man FUCK!" you exclaimed, "I know damn well none of these Lin Manuel Miranda stans built an electric socket." 

You went on to scroll mindlessly through your feed, which barely loaded because of the lack of signal. You were in the middle of spamming the refresh button until you received a notification from Snapchat that read, "One Year Ago Today". You clicked it open, forgetting you still had that app downloaded, and its contents nearly pushed you over the edge to start balling. 

You clicked play. 

"Oh, don't be a pussy, Greggguh!"

"Mumusdsfjks," Greg said, shoving more marshmallows into his mouth, "Chubb Bunif."

"Sorry, buddy, couldn't hear you!" Tom said, giddy, shoving his own marshmallow down Greg's mouth.

"You got it Greg!" you heard yourself say. 

You wanted to cry. You wished you could just go back to Waystar in that moment, playing the Chubby Bunny challenge with gay lovers Tom and Greg. 

"Man, I miss them," you thought. But alas, that was all gone now...

You quickly closed the video, going to your bank app to see how much money remained. After all, Logan DID leave you with enough, but you couldn't help yourself on those McDonald's breakfast orders through Uber Eats.  

Your tears quickly evaporated like they were put through the snap of Thanos when you got a glance of your credit score though. Oh no. 

"OH MY GOD?!??! MY CREDIT IS AT 400????!!? I'M LIKE, FUCKED?!???!"

"What's a credit score?"

You nearly shit yourself at the deep, sullen voice. You looked up and let's just say - you were intimidated. It's the terrorist dude from Red Eye. He wore a flat cap and a tweed little suit type of fit. 

But it wasn't the tweed that had you transfixed - no, it was those eyes....they were familiar. The last time you felt power of being in a trance like that were those Furbies... it forced you to look at them, you had lost all ability of self-control. They made you question yourself, your purpose and whole life being. They were commanding you with their uncanny valley vibe. Their immense gravity caused all time to slow...

"Dude, put those away!" you yelled, forcing your eyes shut and looking away. 

He didn't reply. 

"I'm sorry," you giggled, realizing he wasn't gonna reply to you and instead just stood there. "I'm just really hungry. You got anything?"

He thought for a moment. "Actually...we don't eat." He had a little sassy, matter-of-factly tone of speaking you fucked with heavily. 

"Yeah, that's why your official dish is tikka masala," a glance of that dish popped into your head. "Man I could fuck that up right now."

"I can take you to my office, I might have something there," he said. You agreed right after, anything would have to do. Little did you know, this would be the man who would save you. Not in a self-fulfilling sense but he'd grab you something to eat. 

You two made it to his office, some ways away. It was just a big ass dark room with tables in the middle, which you would later find out the betting on his horse racing took place. 

You sat down and he took off his coat and goofy ass hat, then went to the back for a moment. You looked around, you felt like you were in a dungeon. You looked down to your phone - shit was dead. 

He came back moments later, with a single loaf of bread he placed in front of you. He then took a seat across from you, took out a cigarette and did what the English do best, smoke. 

You were a bit taken aback, and it definitely showed, since his little sassy face got more sassier. 

"Well?" he bellowed, motioning to the food.

"Honestly," you started, not wanting to offend cause he did scare you (in a hot way), "I don't know what more I was expecting. I know Panera bread when I see it."

You began to eat, he just watched you. You would be annoyed had this been anyone else, but man was too fine. 

Some minutes went by, and he just smoked while you ate. He was definitely a man of few words. 

"You're so mysterious," you said. "Is that your character?"

He took in a big puff and put his feet up on the table like he owned the place, cause he literally did. "You don't belong here."

"Yeah, no fucking shit. I'm supposed to be in Scotland."

"What's in Scotland?" he asked, tapping his cigarette into an empty whiskey glass. 

"Bagpipes, I've heard."

He then leaned to the side, grabbing his cigarette case out and offering you one. You declined. 

"It's okay, I don't like cigarettes. They're gross," you went inside your bag and pulled out your crusty geriatric Elf Bar that was on life support, "here, try this! She's my sidekick!"

He stared at it, not a thought behind those eyes. He then rose up. 

"What about a whiskey, eh?" He went to a table against the wall and poured two glasses. You shrugged at his decline of your Elf Bar, and took some shitty hits cause girl it's dead give it up. 

As he had his back to you pouring the glasses, you really thought about how manly he was, in a way all those Ryan Gosling Drive stans love. He reminded you of those mafia boss fanfics you used to read. The way he spoke was so low and serious, but it made your feet rock like crazy!

He turned back around and placed your glass in front of you. Before he sat, he took a swing of his and literally drank it all in one shot like an animal. Wanting to impress him, you did the same, but soon regretted it right after. You'd tried whiskey before, but that was just not good. It was so strong it burned your esophagus, causing you to feel like you had strep throat all over again. You nearly gagged and threw it up but you couldn't let Tommy see you that way. He was staring. 

"Jesus Christ," you said in a raspy, chain smoker voice, trying to smile through the pain, "that's some real shit right there. I'd much prefer a BuzzBall."

"What brings you to the UK?" he asked again, a little more interrogating. 

"Fine. I'm avoiding parole."

"Parole?"

"Have you ever been on parole?" you asked. 

He took a moment, your question hit hard. "Ever since men like me got back from France, we've always felt we were on parole under the king." He had a sadness to it, which then made you kinda sad. 

"Aww, you're a parole baby <3."

He rose his brows in a "yeah this girl off it" way. 

"Does France give you bad memories?" you asked, wanting to know both out of being a nosy bitch and seeing if you could break him. 

"Most nights," he said. 

"Don't worry, me too."

"You served?"

"I might has well have," you replied, thinking of that past life living with your old boyfriend. 

"I wasn't aware women served."

"We always do," you assured. You kept looking into his eyes like it was a staring contest. 

"What's it you're looking at?"

"You have a very, no-nonsense cunty face. Like BBL," you first smiled telling him that, but it then reminded you of when you told your old boyfriend Kendall the same thing. The thought of him made you sad, you wondered where your number one boy was now...

You didn't realize but Tommy noticed your change in demeanor, initially believing you were thinking about your time during the war in France. He rose and grabbed another drink, placing one in front of you as he killed his in less than a second. 

You snapped out of your sadness. "Oh, no thanks. I don't think I can have anymore. This trip will definitely be very detoxing for me."

You two then sat in comfortable silence for some time, as if you two were both mourning after the innocence lost before France. You were something different for him, a new comfort he couldn't find much else in that polluted ass city. And you found comfort in him, he really did seem like he needed fixing. But that's not what you do, no no, he's a grown ass man and can fix himself. You'll just watch from the sidelines <3. 

Eventually, you stayed in Birmingham. Once you were aware that your money had no value in the UK, you realized you needed to be employed again to save up for Scotland. Dollars, turns out, did not equal shillings and pounds or whatever. Tommy hooked you up after finding out your situation and generously gave you a job at the Garrison as a barmaid, along with Harry, who in time, became your BFF. It wasn't that hard of a job, these men never mixed any drinks and would instead have their alcohol straight like a bunch of monsters, so you kinda ate at this job. Another perk was that these 1920s bitches loved thin eyebrows, so your Y2K overplucked eyebrows fit right in! Full circle shit!

But perhaps the best perk was when Tommy would come in every so often and give you a little LOOK. Oh that shit made you rabid yes it did! It made you all hot down there and you couldn't handle it! You two barely spoke, as he would go into the side room for meetings and whatever mumbo jumbo he got up to with his brothers, but when you did you did your best to bring out that old femme fatale. You knew damn well he'd fuck that shit up. And let's be real so did you. 

You knew that you had Tommy in your CLUTCH when he was once lecturing you - basically there was talk about some Billy Kimber dude amongst him and his brothers and the members of the gang, but you couldn't get past how fun it was to say the man's name, especially in their wild ass accent. You kept incessantly shouting it, to what you thought was a joke, "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA" in every possible moment you could, but it would send all the men into a paranoid shock thinking Billy boy was just around the corner. Obviously, he wasn't, in fact you couldn't point out who Billy Kimber was in a crowd of English, but let's just say - it sent them for a sheer panic. They would constantly tell Tommy to get you to stop, since it was bringing back war trauma basically and never felt fear like that since the war. You personally thought they were being a bunch of pussies but whatevs. 

Anyway Tommy found you at the bar after closing and wanted to have a serious talk with you - no more random BILLY FACKIN KIMBA. As he was lecturing you on the dangers of it, you actually started to disassociate in those eyes of his. You then started to think, 

"What if I just grabbed his hat?"

Those intrusive thoughts grew stronger and stronger as the moments flew by and the more his voice became a bunch of muffled nothing. And they won. 

"GOTCHA HAT!" you spat before taking his flat cap off and running with it, jumping over the bar on some parkour shit and pushing those doors open onto the grimy streets of Birmingham, in an excited manic.  You ran for nothing, since you didn't notice in the adrenaline of it all he didn't move an inch and instead just stood at the bar, stumped. From that point on, he knew you weren't like other girls. Cause let's be real who in their right fucking mind would do that to Tommy Shelby? You did girl xoxo <3

But when your image with Tommy REALLY hit home for the guy, it was one night. One very special night...

You were working the night shift at the Garrison, again. It was another rainy day in London Town, and you were all alone cleaning up. You started to think about Gabbie Hanna, and how low key right she was. You continued to rap to yourself, 

"♪ Overwhelmed, overworked, overpaid. I'm on top of the world sitting pretty ♪ -" 

The doors flew open, causing you to jump pretty high up. You looked to the entrance, it was Tommy. And man was drenched and tired looking, your fave combo. 

He walked over, behind the bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He was always a little emo and to himself, but something about him now was really depressing, like man's definitely going through it.

He then took a seat at a table, and looked at you with dead eyes. 

"What's with the frown?" you asked, trying to lighten up the mood but was severely unsuccessful. (Unbeknownst to you he literally just had to put down a horse he thought was cursed :/ it's a canon event!)

He didn't reply. Surprise surprise instead he just drank his whiskey done. You chewed your gum, clueless. 

You just continued to clean, continuing Gabbie's rhyme in your head. 

"♪ Overwhelmed, overwork, underpaid ♪ -"

"Can you sing?"

You turned around again. He fr sounded sad asf. It shocked you, cause did he like, read your mind or sum? 

"Uh, yeah. You want me to sing?"

"Every barmaid knows how to sing."

"Okay, sure. Like acapella?"

He just stared at you, lost again with your mumbo jumbo. 

"Well, I know Lana, I know Nicki, my ex had a song L to the OG-"

"Lana. She sounds nice."

You nodded. "She really is, I love her. Okay, I think I know a song."

"Stand up there," he pointed to a table. You were a bit hesitant, the last time you did that you ate shit like that one girl on YouTube who was also singing on a table and ate shit. But it was for Tommy so you did so anyway. 

You climbed up, took out your gum, flicked it in a bucket, cleared your throat, moved your hair out of your face, and fixed your posture - this was your Pose moment tonight, and Tommy's Billy Porter. 

You then started to sing White Mustang by Lana, but the moment you got to the chorus, which was, well, White Mustang, he told you to stop. 

"Something else, please," he asked demanding yet softly.

"What? Too close to home? Don't worry, Lana does that," you assured, "here, I'll sing a song that hits close to me, it's called How to disappear, it's what do when I'm trying to run from the IRS."

You cleared your throat again and started to sing and girl you ATE THAT SHIT!!!!!

You hit those fucking notes, you were lost in your little own world envisioning yourself in a music video. You understood why America's Got Talent contestants were nervous, cause the pressure? Yeah it's real. And not only is Tommy Billy Porter, he's also Simon Cowell - a yes from that Brit would secure your spot.

Speaking OF Tommy, because momentarily you forgot he was there with you - the man was enthralled, ENCHANTED. He sat silently, the rainwater dripping down his face, as he was taking in every small gesture you made, taking in every musical note that came out of your BBL mouth, (even the voice cracks), and just taking, well, you in. At that very moment, he was in love. YOU were the femme fatale he needed in his life, the one that would complete him, make him feel whole, and would give him purpose. 

Once you were finished, you snapped back into reality and realized you actually weren't in a music video. You looked to Tommy, whose face barely made any other emote other than the one where he looked like he was annoyed, staring up at you. A wave of anxiety flooded over you - you were the center of his world right now, and that pressure was too hot!

You quickly climbed down, and flashed him a big smile. 

"So?" you asked, now LITERALLY feeling more grounded on the ground. 

He didn't respond at first. Moments later, he did. 

"Do you have something nice to wear?"

"Like what?"

"A dress?"

"Um," you thought, trying to remember the contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase, "maybe. Why?"

He rose up, getting ready to leave from the fear and insecurity of the emotions he just experienced. "I want to take you to the races."

"We're gonna race?"

"Horses. Horse races," he corrected you, making his way to the exit. "Be ready by tomorrow, I'll collect you before noon."

"Oh my god, like a date?" you were too slow to come to the conclusion because by that time he'd already left. The excitement quickly mixed in with the anxiety, which wasn't the best feeling in the world. You knew in anticipation for tomorrow you were gonna need SOMETHING to take the edge off, so before closing up you snatched some bottles of alcohol to take to your flat. You weren't really sure what exactly they were, but what you did know was that it was gonna taste like fucking ass. But when mama needs her go go juice, she TAKES her go go juice.

The following morning you woke up at the crack ass of dawn to get ready - you knew you needed TIME. Not that it takes a while for you to get all pretty, girl you're already naturally stunning! but time and place - you needed to stunt today. Also, you already weren't a morning person so you didn't trust yourself to snooze. Actually, you barely slept at all last night since you were too caught up about what makeup you were gonna do, how you were gonna style your hair, what dress to wear and most of all, your ass was just asked out by Tommy. You wondered if this is how nervy the soldiers felt when they encountered bin Laden's bunker. 

You had already finished your makeup and hair, looking pretty snatched. Too bad your phone's been dead for the past couple of weeks and you couldn't take pictures. But anyway you did the usual 1920's makeup tutorial you remember watching on some Buzzfeed video a while ago, pretending you were doing a Vogue makeup tutorial in your mirror and talking step by step your process. You curled your hair into the 1920's bob they were obsessed with back then, packing on an obscene amount of gel just to keep that wave stiff. You struggled but nonetheless you got it girl. 

You were now staring at the remaining contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase - let's just say, you had nothing. That's a lie you did have SOMETHING but was it appropriate for the time? No. Like if you're going to the Renaissance Fair, your ass isn't gonna wear some Skims ass dress. But guess what? That's actually all you had. 

It was a black, tight, spaghetti-strap slip-on dress that was above the knee - definitely NOT the vibe for the era, maybe a bit too revealing? But what other choice do you have? You're I <3 Surfer Boys tee? Exaaaaactly. 

You slipped it on and was taken aback - you know how you forget how good you look when it's been a while since you've dressed up and you actually surprise yourself? Yeah that was you right now. Kim would be proud to see you in that dress, in fact, she'd probably cheer you on to wear it proudly at the races. Even though she wasn't your favorite sister, you imagining her company right now really did help.  

You kept feeling yourself in the mirror - girl you looked GOOD. You put on some black heels, some perfume and that was it - you were simply that bitch now. 

"Oh my god," you thought to yourself, "Tommy's gonna flip. Shit, I'd get with me."

And just like that, you heard the honks of a car coming from outside your flat. You peered through the window, and there you saw some vintage, rinky dink ass car. 

"Oh, fuck!" you shouted, mainly to yourself, but they heard. "Coming!" you called out the window. 

It was actually happening - oh fuck he's here oh yes he is. Quickly, you grabbed one of the bottles you confiscated and took the fattest swig. It was the most horrendous, grotesque warm vodka you've ever consumed. But it would have to do.

You quickly made it downstairs, taking a moment before appearing outside to calm yourself down and make it seem as if you effortlessly just went down some stairs without a care or worry in the world. You made sure to grab a fur coat, faux of course, and your keys. 

Down by the car was Tommy in the driver's seat, with his two brothers, Arthur and John, seated in the back. They all looked at you in awe - they had never seen so much of a woman's legs in their entire life. 

"Bloody foockin' hell, Tommy! What do we have here?!" Arthur exclaimed. 

"Jesus, Tommy," said John, "I didn't think it was bloody possible for you!"

Tommy stared at you for a few seconds longer, a bit taken aback himself. 

Tommy ignored his brothers and exited his side, helping you into the passenger's. You got a whiff of his cologne that brought out an animalistic, innate horndogness of you that you remembered to keep in check. Now was not the time but it was admittedly hard cause the man just looked so good. 

He climbed back into his side, then started driving off, the cobblestone road causing you to feel even more nauseous than you already did. You didn't realize it, but you were mute for the first ten minutes from how disassociated you were. That vodka was hitting deep and swimming in circles in your empty tummy - you hadn't had breakfast, essentially raw dogging and running on nothing, because you knew if you munched on some Panera bread, you would've thrown it up from the nervousness. You were now really accepting the fact that it was a grave mistake. 

"Well, what's wrong with her?" Arthur bellowed, "is her bloody tongue cut off?"

Tommy gave you a quick little side eye, then fully turned to you after realizing you were, indeed, gone. 

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned with a TOUCH of attitude. Or maybe they were both the same you couldn't differentiate it when it came to Tommy. 

"Uh, yeah," you cleared your throat and sat up straight, "just really taking in the moment, you know? It's my first race."

Tommy turned back to the road. 

"You guys look great!" you complimented, wanting to move on. 

"Why thank you, Miss Y/N. I shall wear your kind words like a medal from tha war," said Arthur. "You look like one of them silent film stars!"

You blushed. "So, wanna listen to some music?" you suggested, hating sitting in quiet cars.

Tommy scrunched his brows. "What do you mean?"

You looked down to where the touchscreen on the car WOULD be, forgetting this car was quite literally just a box on wheels with an engine attached. AUX and Bluetooth are not in the vocabulary of these people's brains for another couple more decades. 

"Like, carpool karaoke," you suggested. 

"What?" John asked. 

"Bloody hell is that?" Arthur also asked. You also forgot, these English men wouldn't face the atrocity that is James Corden in ALSO a couple more decades. 

Tommy scoffed, a small little smile on his face but nonetheless a smile. He gets it. "Singing. She likes to sing."

"Is that right?" smiled Arthur, "wow, you've really done a number on Tommy boy over here! He's now a fan of the musical arts!"

The two brothers began laughing and smacking Tommy on the shoulders and head in a playful, men-in-a-gang, manner. He smirked. 

"I'll start, I have the perfect song - this one's called Off To The Races," you turned to Tommy, "also by Lana."

You two smiled at the little inside joke y'all had going on now. You then started singing, really into it like the night before. You were hitting those "scarlet, starlet" notes a little too good. Once you wrapped up, you left the three men in a silence that lasted for a couple minutes. Except Tommy, he was always silent. But his brothers were a little confused, but decided to just roll with it since you made Tommy happy. You thought they were just floored by your abilities. 

"Lovely," John finally said, hesitant and low to break the silence.  

"You've got yourself a bloody mental one here, Tommy," said Arthur. Tommy smiled, you were indeed a little unwell but it was okay to him. So was he <3

It had been about an hour after your arrival, you had been helping yourself to a shit ton of food by a table, stocking up like a bear ready for hibernation. You were literally the only one there, and you assumed so because the cigarettes and alcohol these Brits were fucking up were acting as appetite suppressants. Your fat ass wasn't complaining. 

Besides being the only one actually eating something of nutritional value, you were getting HEAVY looks and side eyes for your outfit. You didn't care, your ass looked good from all the walking around the pub you've been doing. Upon entering, Tommy noticed the looks to. You whispered in his ear, "it's cause none of these interbred Habsburg jaws know what a real woman a real BITCH looks like 💅." 

He didn't get exactly what you meant, but got the vibe and he liked it. He, actually, loved that you were the center of attention here, as you SHOULD be. Afterwards, he told you he had some business to attend to and knowing you were hungry, led you to the food table. He said he'd get you after he was done, and man was taking his time. But again you didn't care you were just munching away. 

"Try the scone, darling, it's absolutely dashing!" a rich, socialite said to you. Her costume was just as amazing as everyone else. 

"You know, I've been avoiding it but, maybe I will. Why not?" you smiled, grabbing one and taking a chomp. It tasted like actual ass but you have a great poker face. You moaned like Mark Weins, even hitting his crazy facial expressions. "It's great!" you mumbled. She smiled and talked on about something you didn't really pay attention to. 

Eventually, Tommy came up behind you and grabbed your arm gently. Had this been any other man, you would've pistol whipped them in the face with the rock of a scone in your hand, but it was Tommy so you just got all the butterflies inside. You turned and smiled, chewing your food and swallowing it almost hole to say something and not just stand there. 

"Fhey Tomyif," you mumbled through the dry scone. 

"Feeling better, eh?" he said in a low tone. He seem a little more cheery, which made you cheery. He was enjoying himself, as he should. And so were you, as you should. Let's just say, the vibes were good. 

"Omg, def," you said, finally swallowing the last bit of food, "you know, you should try eating something. I know you don't do it much, but, I feel like it can be a great experience for you."

He looked into your eyes. He loved that you cared. A soft smile came on his lips. 

"Not hungry."

You thought for a minute. "But like, I'm pretty sure you haven't eaten since France."

"Maybe later. Do you dance?"

"Do I dance? With a little spicy marg in me, Tommy, it's over." But alas, the bartender would have no clue what a spicy marg was, so you kinda had to retract your statement, "But no yeah I can dance sober too no biggy."

"Good," he said, grabbing your hand gently and leading you to the crowded dance floor. You turned back to wave at the socialite lady, who gave you a little wink. My girl knew you scored. 

All you knew was that the Brits LOVED their Charleston dancing, something that you definitely needed Just Dance to teach you. But she wasn't here. You were frightened at the thought, but when Tommy pulled you in, and you two just started going at it, it was as natural as your BBL ass. That one Pride and Prejudice dancing sequence had you mastered in the art. 

With his hand at your waist and the other in your hand, and your other hand around his neck feeling his buzzcut, there was no force on this earth that could stop you. You honestly just moved your legs around and were great. 

Up close to him, you were again in touch with his cologne. You needed to control yourself, but it didn't help that he was like three inches from your face. In this sea of people, it just felt like you two and no one else. 

As you two were fucking up that dance floor to that 1920s jazz music, you looked around at the other faces of people dancing around you. Some you caught staring, others pretended not to. You smiled at the fact your hot ass was intimidating. 

"Man, if I were to do the Woah here, they'd all lose their fucking minds," you thought. "What if I like, just started twerking? No, I can't. I can't let them win."  You knew those intrusive thoughts cannot get another W against you again. The last time that happened, you were expelled from theater school. You couldn't, you couldn't embarrass Tommy - but the urge was too strong. 

Almost as if Tommy read your mind, he pulled you aside the dance floor. 

"I want to introduce you to someone," he said. He then took you to a table where a man with the craziest middle part and mustache sat, beside another who looked like an owl with glasses and other carbon copies of English dudes. At the table was a fuck ton of coins and money, along with drinks and clouds of cigarette smoke from ashtrays. 

"Y/N, this is Billy Kimber. He owns the tracks here," Tommy said. Oh my god it's him, its Billy fackin Kimba...

You weren't sure why Tommy would introduce you, but you took it as a compliment. Maybe he just wanted to stunt on this guy? Who knows. 

The man with the goofy ass fucking name had a wry grin on his face that you did not like at all. The vibe was not good no more around this guy. He stuck out his hand to you, and you obliged very hesitantly. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. With that a wave of disgust flew over you, feeling as though you've been stained. Ew gross. 

"Lovely ta meet ya," the man said. He rose, "Mista Shelby, might I ask your lady for a dance?" 

"Oh, no thanks! <3" you said, a welcoming smile on your face. Tommy and Billy both looked at you as if you just said the most out of pocket shit. The owl man and English robots also gave you daring looks.

"Wot?" Kimber spat. 

You almost laughed. 

"Uh, yeah like, I don't wanna dance." you said, mimicking Tana Mongeau's "a bleach and tone".

Billy saw absolute red. He was livid. He turned to Tommy, who, too, was speechless. 

"The fuck are you on about?" Billy spat again. You really weren't sure what he didn't understand.  

You then realized - there was no getting out of this. You didn't want to cause a scene, cause you kinda already did. So you again invited those intrusive thoughts. 

"Fine," you said, clearing your throat and standing straight. "I'll dance."

You then pretended to throw something in the air, looking up in an anticipatory, worried way. They all looked up too, confused. 

"Oh my god, do you see it? Mr. Kimber, where is it?!" you said as if a bomb were to fall. 

He looked up and then to you, growing increasingly worried. He was too in shock to speak. 

"Where is it?! Where is it?! Do you see it?!" you kept looking up at basically nothing, but you knew it was something. You kept them on their toes, scared at this point. Your feet dancing softly, they were ready for impact. It was time to come down. "There! There it is and -"

With that, you pulled it down and committed the hardest, most nastiest Woah you've ever done. The last time it was that riveting was during middle school lunches. 

When you brought that down, the pose you ended on had your head down and body limp, as if you were Aang in the Avatar state during the episode where he was fighting Zuko's papa and had to unlock and harness such force.

You left them taken aback, disoriented. They didn't know what to do or how to react. You looked fucking insane. 

You took a deep breath and stood back up straight, satisfied. Once you realized that the room had fallen completely silent, even the musicians, you felt you needed to excuse yourself. 

"Um, so," you struggled to find the words. You felt the anxiety creeping up again, the lightheadedness arising. And most of all, it was time for you to empty yourself. "I've, uh," you thought harder and harder - "I'VE GOT AN ITCHY BUM!"

You split, running and running as fast as your pumps could take you. You ran and ran, it was always the most liberating activity honestly. All that dancing with Tommy, the nerves piled up along with the hors d'oeuvres - they lead to this very moment. 

You searched round and round, desperately for a bathroom. No where in this bitch was there a sign or indication, and time was running slim. This was some real Mission Impossible, Tom Cruise is on a time crunch, shit. You pushed through crowds of drunk, belligerent and yelling people, feeling your body slowly succumb to the intense body heat. 

Eventually, you spotted a familiar face. You ran. 

"Arthur!" you yelled. He spun and looked back to you. 

"Y/N! What is it?" he asked, worried. You looked a bit wild. "Are you alright? Where's Tommy?"

"He's fine, he's," you thought, "somewhere. Look, it doesn't fucking matter."

"The mouth on you -"

"Where the fuck is the bathroom in this bitch? Huh? The loo? The toilet? The washroom whatever the fuck y'all call it?"

"Well, I was on me way. It's just over there -" he pointed and you bolted. 

As you were entering, you literally ran full force into the socialite from earlier. She wasn't angry, just like Arthur, worried. 

"You look absolutely GHASTLY darling!"

"Girl move -"

You went into one of the stalls and laid your worst. Thankfully since it was a Skims dress, all you had to do was pull your Victoria Secret thong off and go. You felt bad for the ladies in their dresses and stockings and shit here - convenience was definitely not a factor yet. 

After you cleared your business, (and subsequently the whole bathroom), you stepped out of your stall, refreshed and effortless. You washed your hands, fixed your hair and makeup just a bit in the mirror, and felt yourself again. You took mental selfies, since it was all you had. 

As you left the bathroom, you heard the grunts and yells of men. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but it sounded like some shit was fr going down. You crept to the source of the noise, coming from the men's bathroom. At first, you thought someone was probably constipated, but instead it was Arthur, John and a few others absolutely rocking this guy's shit. They were beating him, cutting him with the razors sewn into their goofy caps, and curb stomping his head into the sink. So sink stomping? 

You made a gross face and walked back out. "Yeesh."

After all, it wasn't the first time you were so close to the mob.

 You remember your number one golden rule you learned from earlier during your time with Pablo: Hear nothing, see nothing!

After walking past the dance floor again, you were relieved to see that everyone and everything had gone back to normal - people were back to dancing, drinking and chatting - back to the script. You actually forgot this was supposed to be a horse race. 

But, there was no Tommy anywhere. You searched and searched, yet you couldn't find that 75% shaved head anywhere. 

You then walked back outside by the entrance, where you saw a woman smoking. You went up to her. 

"May I bum a smoke?" you asked in your best English accent, trying to speak their language. She turned to you and pulled one out, lighting it for you. "Thank you so much, you look lovely, darling."

The woman smiled. You loved hyping the girls up!

"You too. I must admit, I find your choice in wardrobe absolutely admirable and daring!"

You smiled, "Aww, really?" you quickly corrected your accent, "Oh dear, many thanks, many thanks yes."

You took a hit of that cigarette. Shit was gross. But when in Rome...

You and the woman spoke for some time, deep in conversation. It was refreshing to meet another girl here, safe to just talk shit and have a break from all the drunken men and oh no there's Tommy. 

You saw him approaching you and he looked again, upset and emo. It didn't exactly burst your bubble, you really liked Tommy, but were afraid that you possibly embarrassed him in front of the Bilbo Timberland from earlier. 

You bided the woman goodbye and walked towards Tommy. He then took you two back to his car and started off onto the road. By now, it was nearing evening. The car ride was pretty silent, you were looking out admiring the brief countryside. Shit was beautiful like a Microsoft Home Screen. 

"So, what's wrong?" you asked. "You're like, down in the dumps again. And where are your brothers?"

"They'll find their own way home," Tommy said, low and serious, the usual. 

"So is that it? Y'all got into a fight or something?"

He let out a deep breath. "I told Billy Kimber he could have a dance with you."

"Ew, why?"

"Well," he didn't want to say 'business', cause like okayyyyy shout out to 1920's gender roles!, "because you look...nice. You look pretty."

You blushed hard, trying to control your smile. Seeing this side of Tommy was like a sneak peak, it was so exclusive!

"Oh my god, Tommy, are you flirting with me? I didn't even know you had that setting available!"

He smirked, his frown OFFICIALLY being turned upside down. He chucked in disbelief of himself. He was falling. 

Once you made it back to the neighborhood, the sun had gone down and the streets were once again pretty dark. Smoky depressing England like what the Smiths wrote about you get the vibe. 

Anyway he took you to his flat, saying that he wanted to "show you something". You weren't sure what that something was, it could've honestly been like a dead body but actually it wasn't! It was dinner <3

"I've uh," he started, not crazy about the fact that he was falling for you, "I've prepared dinner."

You gasped and made a very soy ass face. How absolutely gentlemanly of him!

"Oh my god, no you didn't Tommy!" you said, "You're so sweet, that's like, so sweet! You shouldn't have!"

He smiled softly, in a "yeah I did that" sort of way. And he did just that. You were 90% sure whatever was inside he didn't cook, but it's the THOUGHT that counts!

He escorted you inside like the gentlemen he was, shutting the front door behind you two. The lights inside the flat were dim, and by the table were two plates. Upon closer inspection, you were absolutely FLOORED!!!!

"No way - tikka fucking masala?!" you exclaimed. He chuckled and it was hot. 

You walked closer and saw two very familiar, VERY FAMILIAR, colorful orbs. You turned them to the side. All this time since you'd last seen one, you forgot what they were or looked like. 

"AND FUCKING BUZZBALLS?!?!?!" you said. "Tommy, how the fuck did you even get these?"

He pulled the chair out for you, and you scooted your big fat butt in. 

"I know people. It's my job."

You couldn't help but smirk.

"It's so hot when a man has connections," your dirty Jezebel mind thought. 

He cracked the BuzzBalls opened and poured them for each of you, like it was some high end expensive ass champagne. You watched him, relishing in the moment - you had your GRIP on this man. Chivalry was in fact, despite popular belief, not dead. But it was also the 1920s so you forgot about that bit. 

You looked down at your plate - you were going to fuck. this. up. He'd never seen this side of you - the side that would tear your meal like a fucking ape cracking open a coconut with a rock for water. You thought if you should warn him, but told yourself - he needs to know ME for ME. 

You gripped that naan, grabbed a fat ass chunk of that chicken - and the moment it hit your lips, you had started giggling like Mark Weins again but subtract the poker face. You had forgotten the long lost love of spice other than pepper and salt. You could've cried if it hadn't been for the fact your makeup looked too good. 

You two dined and wined (there's no wine) for the next hour, talking and talking and chewing and chewing. Seeing him eat was hard for your mind to process, you just never thought he was capable of it. Anyway as he was talking you felt bad because you were zoning out looking at him as if he was another dish of tikka masala. He had such a sigma vibe to him, maybe alpha? (I don't know I'm not familiar with gym bro brain rot TikTok lingo but you get the vibe.) He was just so manly and yet so gentle and calculating, it kinda scared you because like he could literally have everything set up to kill you right now and you wouldn't know cause you were too charmed. But then you realized, he wouldn't have done all this shit for someone he wanted dead. No girl, he just wanted YOU! Your toes tickled at the thought, and those butterflies? They were fluttering. 

For the first time, you had anxiety but hadn't felt the need to shit yet. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol calming your nerves, or the chill vintage ambience going on, or Tommy's comfortable/intimidating presence. In other words, this felt natural and you were fucking with it. 

There were several times you needed to burp, but forgetting you weren't with your girls, you had to swallow that shit deep. After all, girls don't burp. You tried to keep your femme fatale composure. 

You were the light he needed in his very dark emo life. It had been a very long time since he had a genuine laugh, despite the fact he might have had no idea what the fuck you were talking about or saying half the time, but seeing you all bubbly and happy made him feel content. He was finally being vulnerable, letting go a little and just, well, living life. Being free. #livelaughlove

"What will you do? When you've saved enough for Scotland?" he asked. 

The idea brought you down a bit. You forgot about that shit. "Oh, well, I don't know. I kinda like the barmaid stuff, so maybe I'll try to find something similar there?"

You were eating his leftovers. He didn't eat much but liked watching you eat like it was a mukbang. He loved a girl who eats. 

"Why don't you stay?" he asked, avoiding eye contact with you as he poured himself another BuzzBall. You could tell he wasn't a fan but drank it anyway for you because you liked it. 

You again couldn't help but smirk. You loved seeing a guy CRACK!!!

"Do you want me to?" you asked, biting your tongue like the white mom. You hadn't done that in a while either, this English life didn't permit it. 

He took a sip from his drink. "Perhaps you'd be interested in working for me."

"Aren't I already, low-key though?"

"Garrison's not mine," he said. "Do you know anything about bookkeeping?"

He lit a cigarette and offered you one. You took it, not wanting to offend. 

"Well, I gotta tell you," you said, "math is NOT my forte. But oh my god yes babe thanks!"

You ran over and jumped to hug him, he hugged tightly back, he then threw you on the hard table, pushing everything to the floor and you felt his member pressed against your leg. He began kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance but you let him win. He eventually started going down on you, taking your Skims dress clean off, and started kissing your labia.

"This...this is a bloody fucking labia," he says. 

You lifted your legs as he began to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He held your foot up and raised himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes were closed, ready to take the boy from Birmingham in. This is it. No missed flights, no drunk men to call you Jezebels, no lung cancer from cigarettes and factory smoke, no IRS or IRA, nothing - just you and Tommy.

You and Tommy laid on his bed, in each other's arms. Since his bed was high-key smaller than a twin, it was pretty cramped, but neither of you minded. You two were smoking (him a cigarette and you your Elf bar), reminding you of that one band Cigarettes after Sex and how Tommy would've liked them, but they wouldn't drop music for another couple years in this time zone. 

You two talked softly as the rain patterned on the window's glass, some of the street lights peering through the curtain. If there was some incense on, it'd be a vibe. You originally thought his opium pipe was an incense holder but you were very mistaken. 

" - so yeah, that's why people picked team Jolie. But in all honesty, I feel bad for Jennifer, you know? Like, he literally cheated on her. Over what? A fucky boof ass movie? It was ass," you hit your Elf bar, refusing to accept it was dead. "I guess it doesn't matter now, cause NONE of them are together anymore. So what do you think? Aniston or Jolie?"

He took a drag of cigarette as he stared at the ceiling. He made an unsure face. 

"I'm not familiar with them."

"True. Fine, let me think of something you'd know. Like something English drama," you thought. "Okay, team Blur or team Oasis? I hear there was a lot of blood shed during the battle of Britpop."

He again took another drag of his cigarette. Anyone would be looking at this and thinking he found you hella annoying, but he didn't. He just genuinely thought you had a great imagination. 

"Neither, I guess. I don't have time to listen to music."

He was right, which was why he loved when you sang at the pub and most of all, to him during your private Lana concerts. 

As time went on, you were in DEEP. Scotland? Yeah never heard of her. Not only were you working for Tommy doing whatever bookkeeping is, but he had even introduced you to his family, which you KNOW damn well is a sign that shit is serious. 

You loved the Shelby's, even though they were a bit off their shit sometimes. But it wasn't anything new, you'd been well familiar with crazy families before. You loved talking shit with Polly, going to the 'cinema' with Ada, fucking with Arthur until he got mad, supplying John with his toothpicks and making little Finn believe in the fake number 'derf'. You got along with them well, they saw you as a perfect fit for the family - something different, vibrant and bright! You loved them and they loved you! Polly would even tell you in confidence that you made Tommy a happier person, something he lost after the war. Getting Polly's stamp of approval was literally it, that's all you needed. 

And you and Tommy? Yeah y'all were a thing. An item. During work hours he'd give you little looks here and there, and so did you, as if it was some secret office romance. But it wasn't secret literally everyone knew you were his girl. And that's power. 

You learned the ropes pretty fast, again it wasn't your first rodeo in the mob. It was like Colombia all over again, but we don't talk about that. Tommy fucked with you having a secretive criminal past, he thought it was pretty hot. 

Besides bookkeeping, you still worked in the bar. All the patrons loved when you sang Lana, it just went on to prove that she's indeed a poet. They eventually memorized them and sang along, which annoyed you sometimes cause you just wanted to hear yourself and they sounded like ass when they were drunk. But you just go along with it! 

Some of the songs you in the pub (and Tommy's room) sang included:

Bartender (cause hello? You're LITERALLY at a bar)

Shades of Cool (for Tommy's big blue ass eyes (you wished they could hear that guitar solo cause the acapella didn't do it justice :( ))

Cola (singing this for the fist time made you realize you had to censor a couple things, they weren't a fan of that intro)

Stargirl's Interlude (Lana's part obvi, but it's again for Tommy cause he's your starboy <3 he loved when you hit those high notes)

Brooklyn Baby (you avoided it cause it reminded you of your ex)

Video Games (hello it's for Tommy)

Love Song (this makes them all cry)

Money Power Glory (again hello it's Tommy, but this wouldn't hit until he's a member in Parliament)

National Anthem (being in England for so long made you forget the United States anthem)

Fucked My Way Up To The Top (literally you rn)

Speaking OF a bunch of drunk men, the gang loved you. You thought you were like the comedic relief of the little theater thing they had going on here. You had to admit, you admired the method acting everyone had done so far. It only, to you, proved that it worked, since you were GENUINELY left in deep in a psychosis where you're just a 1920's flapper girl. 

There was some rules and etiquettes you needed to remember, however. One, was of course, the "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA", and another was you finding out Tommy did NOT fuck with brujeria or anything dark magic related. You thought it was kinda funny, he reminded you of those Reddit r/atheist accounts but at the same time, he was low-key scared of zodiacs. Not that he didn't like it, he was paranoid at them. You literally asked his zodiac sign and he responded very sternly and seriously, 

"Y/N, don't."

You then said. "That's a very Capricorn thing to say."

Besides that, everything was great and chill.

It wasn't long before this annoying ass Irish inspector dude pulled up to the pub. Once he saw you, he locked eyes with you and approached the bar. You didn't like his vibe in the slightest. In fact, no one in the pub liked his vibe either. They all fell silent when he entered. 

"Excuse, me, ma'am," he said. You turned, not really wanting to talk. 

"Yeah, what?"

"Do you know about a Thomas Shelby?" 

"Yeah, what about him?" you didn't fuck with anyone who referred to Tommy as Thomas. Like?

"Do you know where I can find him?"

You were really starting to not fuck with his vibe even more. Something was def fishy. 

"You should really go back to being with the dinosaurs," you said. He didn't like that. 

He leaned in. "Do you know who I am? Who do ya think you arrrrrre?" the R's went very crazy. 

And just in time, as if he was your guardian angel, Tommy opened the doors to the little room beside the bar. Babes was hearing everything and he was NOT gonna let this dude talk shit to his girl like that. 

"You need to speak to me? Inspector Campbell, is it?" he said. "I've read about you in the papers."

Tommy then took Campbell soup outside to speak. Before leaving, he (Tommy) gave you a wink and you winked back. You knew that was code for 'let's hit my flat later'. Little did you know, this would be the last time.....

P.S. - when you asked one of the men at the pub who he was and someone replied IRA, you originally interpreted that as the Irish IRS and shat yourself. You didn't know how to tell Tommy your time was ticking, they'd located you - but you were not going down without a fight. 

You were both in his bedroom as usual, he was lying in bed smoking, you were hitting the Elf bar, rain pattering, English people yelling outside yeah you get the vibe. Anyway, he asked you to sing - a request you took quite seriously. You knew this was his only time of relaxation and you had to make the best of it before you break the news you needed to escape again.

You rose, sitting up and looking down at his BBL face. 

"Lana or Nicki?"

"Lana."

"Can I do Nicki? You never ask for her."

He took a drag and nodded. "Go ahead."

This, now this would be where you fucked up. Let's just say, you wish you could wipe out this night from your memory. Alas, all things need to come to an end, even the good ones, unfortunately. You'd never thought it would be like this though tbh. 

You stood up on the bed, as usual, cleared your throat all that bullshit. You thought and thought, "what's a good Nicki song? What's fitting?"

And then it hit you - it was definitely a deep cut. 

He had a soft smile on his lips, watching you as you were thinking. Little did he know, you were going to harness a part of yourself you hadn't seen in a while. This was a mode you unlocked that was such a release after, and you knew you had to go all or nothing. 

You cleared your throat. 

"Okay, so this one's kinda not AS well known, but it has British themes I think work well," you prefaced. "Okay, here I go."

The moment you opened your mouth, you let the spirit of Nicki come in. And once she's in, there's no going back. And Tommy was not prepared for that. You then started Nicki's verse in Sean Kingston's "Born To Be Wild".  

"♪ If you will die, then why would you try and if you reply, a suit and a tie is what I will buy then you will be mine because you and I were born to be wild, I am Martha you King Arthur who knew you would land me, I’ve been known to eat these rappers, cook em like chef Ramsey - ♪"

You were too deep to notice Tommy's rapid increasing worry and fear as you spat out those lyrics. It was too overstimulating for him to handle. You ate, but that was just want concerned him - he didn't know you were rapping. In fact, no one at this current time did. 

" ♪ - Mission accomplished, your my accomplice cover of vogue yeah ima go topless ima go bonkers ima go crazy ima get reckless then have a baby then hang the baby off the balcony teach him to moon walk tell em he's Japanese - ♪ "

No, he thought you were putting a curse on him. No, he was CONVINCED. 

"Stop! STOP!" Tommy rose from his bed, pushing the sheets off of him. 

You were shaken out of your trance, confused. You became worried, what happened? Did you miss something? Were y'all in danger?

"Wait, Tommy -"

"Enough! Stop!" you had never seen panic in that man's eyes. Never. And you didn't like it. He was looking straight at you, talking to YOU. 

"Stop what -"

"You're a bloody fucking witch!" he yelled, rubbing his hand through his hair while the other TIGHT on his hip. This was his evaluating stance. "That's what this is - that's what it's been."

"Uh, Tommy," you said, more annoyed that he interrupted your moment, "I'm no witch. I'm just, well, Y/N."

He took a deep breath, now facing away from you. He couldn't believe it. All this time, all that mumbo jumbo that came out of your mouth, all this time - they were just that. Curses. No wonder he didn't understand them, you were literally speaking in tongues this whole time. 

You walked towards him, slowly. This man needed that opium right now. 

"Tommy -"

"Leave. LEAVE!" he yelled, grabbing your messy bun, and doing what you didn't think would happen again for a very long time - he beybladed you. 

Spin. Spin. Spin.

"LET IT BLOODY RIP!"

And there it was. 

And there you went. 

He twisted you in the air round and round, ready for a different kind of liftoff. He flung you out the window, you crashed through and onto the cobblestone streets of Birmingham. 

That was it. All these months, all this rehearsing - it all came to an end. On a random Tuesday evening? The Tommy you once thought you knew was no more - after all this time, he never trusted you? Didn't he know who you were? Like dude he watched you be vulnerable at fuck up a tikka masala. TWO of them at that. 

Anyway, you realized maybe the entirety of UK just wasn't your vibe, anyway. With this 'IRA' now in town, your ass needed to be grass. Before leaving, you broke into his horse racing betting place whatever it's called and committed a little fun heist, taking all the money. What? A girl needed to sustain herself in this economy. Dog eat dog world shit. And plus, all your stuff was back at his apartment and you were DEF not gonna go back. Who knows? Was HE working for the Men In Black? Wining and dining you to gain his trust and he turned you in? Maybe he did you a favor in the end. 

And maybe you could upgrade to the latest iPhone when you got to London with all this horse money? With a shilling and a pound, the possibilities seemed endless. 

You walked down the streets, sad, but again more confused and a little relieved, onto your next destination, wherever that maybe. Anywhere Y/N went, it was all just a big adventure of a girl having fun being, well, just a girl having fun in this world. And THAT'S all that matters. 

Hope you enjoyed!

xoxo, 

~Sam St. Clair

[oonajaeadira]

Hi Adira!

Last week and next week I am living the life of a paid musician (pit then orchestra) and I am fried. Seeing as how you’re familiar with the professional performer life, I was wondering if you have any advice on how to make it mentally and physically sustainable?

I am hoping that more of these opportunities will come my way and I want to be able to do it without spending a week in bed afterwards…

Ooof. I've been there. I mean, you gotta do the basics--sleep, good food, water. I also rely on copious amounts of coffee.

But the thing that usually gets me through a prolonged show-mode slam is plan ahead and then literally taking it one. day. at. a. time.

Don't look down those calendar days and wish for Friday. It's only going to make you burn out on Tuesday. Literally living in the moment saves my ass every time. Assess what you need from moment to moment. Are you hungry? Need a snack? Just sit and rest? Got a couple of hours but just exhausted? Don't worry about the "other stuff." That will be waiting for you at the end of the week. Just do what you need to that day to feel rested in your mind and body. Even if it's just zoning out to tv; don't feel guilty about that. It's just for this moment. There will be productive moments later. This one is for Narcos.

This is not to say you shouldn't plan ahead. Get your laundry done before the big week. Make big batches of good food you can eat on the go or take very minimal time to prepare for a meal so you don't stress about food prep or fall into the trap of fast food which will zap your energy and time and moneys.

One of my biggest events of the year is a two-week period where I'm literally at the office at 10am, participating in the evening events from 5-11pm, and then co-hosting an after-event until around 1am. When you factor in drive time and showers, that leaves me just enough time to sleep. Sometimes.

So I make sure to do my laundry right before. I'll even maybe organize my closet in a way where I can just pull out clothes without thinking too hard. Take an assessment of your groceries/toiletries and make sure you have what you need, because nothing will frazzle you more than not having it and/or having to squeeze in time to get to the shops. (If you do have to have something, mail order.) Make a go-bag for the week with anything you might need (including an extra change of clothes if you need it).

And if there's anything you can put off until after the big event, PUT IT OFF. Just mentally prepare yourself for big focus on the performing for that short burst of time.

When my big event is coming up, this is an example of what I do for food:

Bag of nuts and/or trail mix to keep in my bag.

Bag of carrot sticks I can keep in the fridge at work and a jar of peanut butter at my desk specifically for them. Fk spooning that shit out, dip your sticks in it.

I will boil up an entire family-sized package of Buttoni tortellini, dump in a whole container of the brand's pesto sauce, one whole chopped bell pepper, three whole packages of sprinkle tomatoes (or one package of halved cherry tomatoes), a whole package of peas (steamfresh microwave packet), and half a chopped red onion. MIX. That will give you a pasta salad for at least a week that you can eat cold right out of the fridge or warm up real quick and has a ton of veggies. And if you need protein, you can fix your meats separately and just add them in when you fix up a bowl. The key is to pack it full of tasty veggies you like that will balance the oils/fats of the pesto and turbo charge the carbs for lots of energy. (Pro tip: get a pair of really good kitchen scissors if you're like me and bad at chopping veggies or have terrible knife skills or terrible knives. So much quicker to cut.)

Starbucks via packets are a life saver if you have access to hot water and don't have time to make/grab coffee.

Laugh when you can. Step outside and focus on one thing--one flower, the way the sun hits a stop sign. Let your brain be simple for a little bit every day--I call this "letting it hang to get the wrinkles out". When you've been stationary too long, stretch. And when you feel stressed, close your eyes and imagine Pedro gently placing a finger on any spot that is tense until you let it go.

[phantomspren]

I've been watching LotR the last few days (cause why watch something I haven't seen before from my incredibly long list of things I need to watch when I can watch something I've seen before a ton) and I just want to talk about radical hope.

The story of LotR is bleak. Just. So incredibly hopeless. There are so many points where the characters just genuinely have no hope that they will live, let alone save the world.

During Return of the King, there is a literal darkness that covers the world for days. The only hope there is for success is a couple hobbits. Who are walking through enemy territory. With one thing that would instantly guarantee success to the enemy.

And in the end Frodo fails.

Despite all of this

They kept hoping.

Frodo failed and all was lost.

But it wasn't.

They saved everything.

They didn't make it through unscarred. Many people didn't make it through at all. But they did make it.

But they wouldn't have if they'd given up.

Sam's speech at the end of The Two Towers left me in tears. (It normally doesn't.)

Lately I've been feeling incredibly hopeless. I'm at the point in my life where I'm trying to figure out what I want to do for a living, and I'm currently working towards something that I have so little chance of succeeding in. I'm paying so much money to go to school for this.

Beyond just me, I'm terrified for the upcoming election for obvious reasons. I live in a country where we already have a maternal mortality rate that's way too fucking high and people are actively working to make that worse. I live in a country where there are people who don't think I and the people I love deserve to exist. I live in a country where the highest cause of death for children is guns.

I live in a world where there is an active genocide going on and no one gives a shit. I live in a world where the deadliest disease has a cure, but why would we give them access to that? The people dying from it are poor. They're poor because of us. I live in a world that those in power are slowly destroying.

But I'm here. We're all here. And there's so much bad. But there's so much good.

I went to a convention last month, and it was the most fun I'd ever had. I want to do that again.

I got invited to go to a pumpkin patch with a friend next week.

I just finished rereading Hamlet.

I have motivation to write and tell stories for the first time in years.

I made a new friend this year.

I still haven't finished listening to Welcome to Nightvale.

Alecto the Ninth isn't out yet.

I had a friend help me out yesterday.

I helped out a different friend.

There are stars in the sky.

The leaves are turning colors and falling and it's so beautiful.

I watched a movie that I've seen at least a dozen times before and it made me cry.

It feels so hopeless.

But that's not a reason to give up hope.

We gotta fight for what we've got. I'm going to fight tooth and nail even if all it means is that I get to see one more sunset, read one more book that changes me, meet one more person who gets me.

I don't care if you can donate a thousand dollars to a charity, or if all you can do is just stick around for another day because you know that you will feel joy again at some point, that's what you gotta do.

It might get worse.

We might not see things get better.

But it will get better again. And before it does, there will still be moments of joy. And the chance that we'll see everything get better, the chance that we'll see anything get better, that's worth sticking around for.

That's radical hope.

Sam: It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.

Frodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?

Sam: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo… and it’s worth fighting for.

[that-one-kiddo-in-the-back]

This video is about Star Wars... apparently.

Once again, if you don't know me, I'm what Lily would refer to as a Star Wars weeb. I live, breathe, and shit Star Wars. You got it? Good. Let's dig in.

Now, this can't be a Lily Orchard video without her complaining about the thing she claims to love. Now, I have my own problems with the sequel series, mostly that I found it boring and a wasted opportunity to do something a bit different and interesting and felt that they pushed a black man to make room for a white woman. Hell, my siblings even told me that for a week, it was just none stop complaining about Disney owning Star Wars I think the only reason I started to go a bit easy and shut up was when star wars rebels came out but I'll get into my own acceptance of Disney canon in a separate post.

To her credit, she talks about how universal Star Wars is, how it has something for everyone, and if you're someone like me a shit ton of stuff to take all of the money from your account but now we come to Lily not understanding how things work.

She goes into a rant about how streaming services are killing movies and just regularly TV watching, which is true, yes. She's uses Matt Damon's views on streaming she then talks about her all-time favorite movie and the reason she pushes for low stakes storytelling from that time period called John Q. From 2002 which if you don't know, it's about a father who holds a hospital hostage at Gun Point to get them to help his son, who needs a life-threatening heart surgery.

Despite the title, this video has nothing to do with Star Wars. it's more about streaming services with a spit of Star Wars. From 8:37 to 14:48 is nothing about Star Wars and all about streaming and low stakes over high stakes. Despite that, I would argue that John Q, while being more a personal movie of a father desperate to save his son, is a high stakes situation. High stakes storytelling isn't just "The fate of the universe is at risk," and low stakes storytelling isn't just personal drama. John Q stakes are pretty high with taking an emergency hospital hostage where everyone could die if not treated, and the best case scenario for the main character is his son getting treatment while he goes to prison and the worst case being he dies with his son. I hate to break it to you Lily but the movie you say is your all time favorite is a fucking high stakes movie.

Finally, getting back to fucking Star wars. She brings up how Star Wars is a pretty low stakes series simply because of how the story is overshadowed by the family drama that is the Skywalker family, which is turn. I would say that Star Wars can be pretty low stakes, but I wouldn't stay that it is. She talks about clone wars, the "patron saint of the annoying darkness obsessed Fanboys" (A.K.A me) has plenty of episodes of that dig deep into the rot and corruption of the republic and the jedi order but that those are dwarfed by the focus of Anakin and Ahsoka's relationship pointing out that that episode was the series most hard hitting to the fans which is true anyone who watched that episode can tell you they cried their eyes out but that's mostly because that really left an impact on Anakin and one could argue is that's what really made him question the order and when you go back to watch Anakin's descent it makes it all the more heart breaking.

We all know Lily hates serialized TV that's no secret or surprise she'd much rather watch a sitcom over anything else, but the thing is, but she treats serialized shows as moldy bread using the Ahsoka show as an example of losing characters and losing moments for the story to breathe and the fun episodes that do nothing but flesh out a character never mind the fact that Ahsoka and Sabine don't need to have their character fleshed out we already saw that in rebels for Sabine and CW for Ahsoka. I find it kinda funny that she doesn't like the Ahsoka show when that was the lowest stakes show she could ask for a teacher and a student getting back together to help find Ezra while 2 dark side users are also trying to find him so they can find Thrawn hell she even has some lesbians to obsess over but they focus on the force for to long and has too many samurai references dispirit the fact that...

The Jedi are basically samurai!

The jedi takes inspiration from monks and Samurais, so no Lily. Dave filoni isn't some secret Weeb. Blame Lucas if you have to

Something I found interesting is Lily using M*A*S*H and other sitcoms saying they have some depth to them, but we her critics can't see that past the laugh track saying how her favorite All in the Family did a good job talking about drag queens while taking a dump on Rocky horror for their drag queens. Now I haven't seen all in the family or Rocky horror (and I don't plan to), but I have seen M*A*S*H, which is a good sitcom it's pretty funny and a prime example of "laughter is the best medicine" or "if you don't laugh, you'll cry." If you don't know what M*A*S*H is, it's a 70s (1972 to 1983) sitcom that takes place in a medical tent during the Korean War with most of the episodes being about the main group of characters trying to go home but whacky hijinks get in the way the show is all dark humor. Little fun fact if you didn't fall asleep during history class, M*A*S*H was made three years before the Vietnam War had ended, so people didn't care for it until 1974 and you don't have to he a genius to know why it's loved now.

Lily’s main problem with Star Wars is that she's living in the past and won't move forward, and she can't expect that not everyone likes what she likes. Sure, Solo was a flop, but there are still some people who like it.

There is no such thing as peak fiction also applies to Lily herself.

She missed an opportunity to use avatar

[notoneopinion]

Self Care Tips After a Long Day

Personally, I have been having a lot of these 'long days' recently, and these tips have been saving my sanity. So I thought I'd share them with you! Christmas is coming up, a lot of us are taking on extra or longer shifts at work to be able to afford the presents we need to buy, so hopefully some of this advice will come in handy.

1. Treat yourself!

A pretty simple one, but it really is very important. I sometimes treat myself with a coffee after work, because there is nothing better than a hit of caffeine after a twelve and a half hour shift, let me tell you. If I don't feel like spending money, I'll come home and watch a movie, lay out a few packets of crisps to enjoy whilst I relax. It really is a thing of just unwinding after a particularly long day, making sure your body gets that rest it deserves.

2. Journal

This really is one of the biggest self-care tips you will get. Anyone who knows anything about taking care of your mind knows that writing out your feelings is a great way to sort out your emotions. It can also be very relaxing, which is perfect after a long day. I love making a Scene of it, too - lighting a candle, putting on some music or a nice YouTube video in the background, and just sitting down at my table in cosy pyjamas to write about my day. I personally go with the old brain-dump method, but there's a ton of different ways to journal that you can look into, whether that be fun prompts, lists, or a brain-dump, like me!

3. Sit in silence.

Genuinely, just sit in silence. Come home, get into comfy clothes, and just sit. Stare at a wall. Play with a fidget toy. Put noise-cancelling headphones on and just be present in your own space. I find myself doing this mostly due to my autism; I kind of have no choice in the matter, considering my brain tends to shut down after a long day, and all I can really do is sit in silence. But it's not a bad thing, and I recommend trying to do it for anyone who might be feeling a little overwhelmed. The silence can do wonders.

4. Have a bath/shower.

I'm a shower girlie, personally, but that's only because I don't actually have a bath.

Either way, getting washed and clean and feeling fresh is an ultimate form of self care!!!! It might take a bit of motivation to actually get yourself into the shower (trust me, I know) but once you do it, you'll feel incredible. I'm personally not a big fan of the whole Everything Shower thing - I think I'm just too lazy to get everything scrubbed, shaved and moisturised, and if you're the same, there's nothing wrong with that. Wash your hair. Put some soap on those limbs. Just feel the hot water on your skin, maybe do a bit of skin care afterwards if you're feeling up to it. But getting washed and fresh will make you feel ten times better, and might even wake you up a bit if that's what you need!

5. Meal prep.

I live by this.

Once upon a time, I didn't meal prep, and I would come home at 8:30pm after a twelve hour shift full of heavy lifting and verbal abuse (lol guess what I work as) and I would immediately just order a takeaway. In the moment, this is all good - it's a treat, I deserve it, it tastes nice. But after three days of takeaways, you start feeling a little bit shit about yourself, and you're not being too kind on your wallet, either.

I started using a brief portion of my days off to meal prep for the week - just dinners, stuff I could throw in the fridge/freezer and heat up when I got home. Let me tell you, it was self care. Not only was my health improving dramatically, but my mental health was also given a break because I was no longer feeling bad about the stuff I was putting in my body. Plus, meal prepping at the start of the week (or just whenever you get a chance, really) gives you the opportunity to actually think about what you're making, so chances are you're going to be a bit more conscious about what you're putting into your body. I also enjoy cooking a great deal, so it's not even a chore on my day off - I find it quite relaxing to throw some music on, get my cook book out and just enjoy the task.

[bunnylafee]

Who wants to be filled in on my recent adventure?

So girlfriend and I decided a bit ago to go to Ohio. Then some stuff happened where I was unsure if we were going to go or not. Then about a week and half into September I was like.. "Hey, do you still wanna go to Ohio?" She was like fuck yeah!! So we had like about a week and half to plan and I bought the room asap. I had been saving money for it when we first mentioned it.

So leading up to the trip there was some hesitation on both our parts I want to believe, mostly on mine. It was going to be our first road trip together, meeting important people in her life and first time doing a roadtrip without hubbs. So MAJOR stuff!! She was like you're not backing out anytime I brought up a concern, I started to just be like "not saying no, but this is my concern".

Then the roadtrip happened!! We got there ok and checked in, met someone immediately. Got to spoon with her all night long!! See how happy she was to be around people she knew. I was socially awkward and weird the entire time. I got to take her out to hot pot for her first time!! She loved it. I'm planning a lil date for korean bbq in October (if all goes as planned).

I got to meet the important people in her life, I don't think I made a good impression being so socially awkward and shit. I got overwhelmed at one point right when we went to dinner and I feel like I ruined the meal somehow? Oh well, nothing I can do about it now. Hopefully they don't think poorly of me?

So we were on the drive back when I shredded a tire. Oops. Thankfully I had money set aside incase anything happened (for emergency). So we had to get an extra night at a hotel and wait til morning to get not one but 4 new tires because three of them were bad. Yikes. I did a look over on my car, had hubbs do one.. next time I'm having her do it a week or so beforehand!! So we were a day later than planned, both our anxiety was bad that last day! I live with such high anxiety all the time it barely affects me outwardly where you can tell half the time outside of some instances.

We made it back in one piece and that's all that matters. I made sure she got back. Now I'm planning a cute lil date day trip for October that I hope comes to fruition.

I took some cute pics but again.. not enough of us. I always forget or get too caught up in the moment to think of it. I did enjoy spooning all night with her. I miss it. I miss how I felt while I was with her those three days. I felt.. good. Just different from how I normally feel is all.

Now I'm back and reality is here. I won't get to see her much during our free time. Which sucks. Sometimes I just want a big hug from her and that is all I need. Like how she can look at me and tell almost what I need.

Sometimes I'm bratty, sometimes I fake being upset but I always will love her.

I know she could rip me to shreds and rip my heart out of my chest but I'm trusting that she won't.

I have come to trust her a ton more than I have previously which wasn't much. I don't know what that is about and why I have such trust issues. I'm still trying to figure out what trusting someone in a romantic relationship feels like but I can't figure it out and I'm scared to ask her. I've asked other people but they don't explain it correctly??

Everything takes time I know.

[xoxoauntscripty]

*tw for cannibalism, mass starvation*

So if you've ever wondered, "who has saved the most human lives in the history of ever?"

There are a few people who vie for the spot

But the one you don't expect

is Herbert Fucking Hoover

You know.... One of those old timey U.S. presidents who doesn't seem like he did a fuck of a lot? For whom things like Hoovervilles™ are named?

But Herbert Fucking Hoover

Organized the biggest relief mission in history to that point (maybe ever?)

Saved at least 10 million people

And probably accidentally propped up the Bolsheviks and whoopsies, allowed the USSR to become one of the worst slave states in human history

All before he ever became President

So early Soviet Russia was a giant fucking shit show.

In 1917 you have the people topple the tsarist government, pull Russia out of World War I under some pretty fucking atrocious terms, and basically immediately descend into civil war

(which is a "civil war" in name only, because literally dozens of countries sent troops to fight on one side or another, and is in and of itself an entirely confusing and fucked up time frame I don't understand completely)

And while those two wars are finally over by the end of 1920, the Soviet economy is in shambles

Basically all the grain being grown by peasants was being conscripted by the larger government, in part to feed troops, in part to feed "important people" in the government, in part because that's not your grain, it's the people's grain, and by the people the government generally means "whoever we need favors from at the moment"

There are entire train graveyards because of all the trains that have been blown up or sabotaged across 6+ years of war

Rural people are basically wearing rags, living in shacks, and are Poor As Dirt, except they can't get to the dirt for most of the year because of all the fucking snow

The people producing the food are the people who are already underfed

And then in 1920... The fucking wheat harvest fails

Drought and blight basically fuck an entire seasons harvest all across Russia

And you IMMEDIATELY have a humanitarian crisis on your hands

Hard winter + living in rags + already underfed + crop failure = LOTS of people dying

As in, 10,000 to 100,000 people dying each and every week from starvation

If you look at photos, especially of orphanages, it will make you want to fucking cry, because these kids are walking skeletons

By March 1921 you have tens of thousands of cases of cannibalism, mostly unreported

At least 10 butchers shops have to be closed for selling human meat

Kids are literally afraid to go out alone because bands of roving cannibals are especially prizing the meat of children

And all the while, Herbert Hoover has been sitting on the sidelines practically BEGGING Lenin to let foreign relief in, as long as he can make sure the food is actually being distributed equally among the communities

And in March 1921 Lenin finally cracks and gives the go ahead

Now Hoover was the founder and head of the American Relief Administration, which was a US government relief agency

Keep in mind, 1920 is kind of at the height of the first Red Scare

The pinnacle of pre-McCarthy / pre-Cold-War anticommunist thought

There are leftist strikes all over the place. Coal strikes, steel strikes, even the Boston police go on strike around this time

Conservative/wealthy/powerful Americans are shit scared of the left, especially of socialists

And a good number of people just want to let the communists starve

And even though Hoover is staunchly anticommunist himself, he says fuck that noise, people are dying , and talks Congress into giving a whopping $20M in aid ($307 billion fucking dollars in 2023 money), plus $8M from the US military, along with tons of private donations. Altogether Hoover raises over $78M ($1.2 trillion in 2023) and immediately Gets The Fuck to Work.

And he sends in an absolutely staggering amount of support.

200 American ARA leaders hire 125-150,000 Russians on the ground

Commandeers (basically) over 200 ships

Sends over 912,000 tons of food

Sends over 7,500 tons of medical equipment and supplies

At one point has to convince Russia to unfuck its own railroad system and pay their workers so the grain can actually get anywhere

But it works

They set up twenty thousand kitchens

They start feeding 6 million kids and 4 million adults a day

The supplies help 16,000 hospitals and treat a million patients a day

Ten million fucking people don't starve who absolutely would have without aid

Now. We have to acknowledge that this isn't Hoover alone. Obviously it takes a fucking village to save a nation.

But he was the one who fought for it. He spearheaded it, and organized it.

He was also the one that insisted that along with edible food (mostly corn), the aid package include the wheat seeds to plant for next year's harvest, so this wouldn't be a Permanent Problem.

And lo and fucking behold, by autumn 1922, Russia starts to stabilize its food supply

And the famine begins to end

The wild part of this is that if Hoover, an ardent anticommunist, hadn't spearheaded this, the Bolshevik government probably would have fallen

But he cared more about feeding people than he did toppling a government he hated.

If you combine the 10M people he fed in Russia

The 3.1M children he fed in postwar Finland, Latvia, Poland, Estonia, etc

Sources

Herbert Fucking Hoover may have been (arguably) the person most responsible for saving the most lives in history.

Then afuckinggain

When he oversaw the federal response to the stock market crash of 29 and the start of the Great Depression (as President)

He basically thought that poverty relief would keep people from seeking work?

And thought that monetary and housing relief efforts were the responsibilities of the states, not the federal government?

And so basically his response to "help the banking and economic system is collapsing" was to make sure there were plenty of farm plans available and to try to stabilize businesses, not people? And ignored the fact that the people in charge of those loans were conservative dickheads?

So like. Not Perfect. None of them are.

But 13,000,000 people probably care less about that than about the fact that they lived.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russian_famine_of_1921

https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/films/famine/

(Note: Herbert Hoover is not the same guy, nor AFAIK even related to, J Edgar Hoover.

That guy was a massive piece of shit.

But that's a story for another day.)

[weebsinstash]

I’ve actually always wondered about the jealous worker thing like image we as readers still try to make the best of everything and try to hang out and make new friends but the rest of the workers just either don’t wanna hang out since their already mad or just don’t like reader because of the same reason and readers over here depressed about havin no friends and Val’s ass is like “it’s ok baby cakes, I’ll be your friend :>” 😏😮‍💨

The idea of like, Valentino having a spare old set that isn't being used at the porn studio that he rents to you as a room, is already enough of a stretch right, but sometimes I sit and think like, how extremely unsafe that is for so many reasons. You have to go elsewhere to eat or bathe, locking up your room with a spare key (and of course Valentino also has a key and will let himself in whenever he pleases), and sometimes I think about like, how maliciously bullied you could be

You step out of your room as Val texts you to run him and get him some food, and you're literally walking in the door with it when someone deliberately trips you and makes you drop it all. Oh, you just got some new clothes after wearing hand me downs for ages to save money? Whoops, a coworker of yours 'accidentally' crashes into you and spills drinks all over you. A particular possessive dancer doesn't like how Valentino complimented your makeup? You return from running errands to your room broken into, trashed, LOOTED

Like imagine if Valentino had some sort of gift placed into your room, unwrapped, and when he sees that you haven't seen it, he accompanies you to go see what you've got, and you both walk in on your room either straight up trashed and his gifts ruined, or the thieves still in there and playing around with whatever he's gotten you (probably some sort of makeup or jewelry) and of course he intervenes then, because they're wasting his money

I can also imagine like, he isn't being 100% fake about it, but Valentino absolutely uses the fact he has tons of power (both as am Overlord and as your boss) to seem like the gracious savior to your sorry state. Oh, you tearfully tell him you're going to be late on rent? Oh, no problem doll, you've been so good at being on time that he can let it slide just this once. Oh, you were robbed on your way to bring him rent? Take a lil trip outside to ride around in the limo with him and point the punk out. A customer at the strip club groped you? Everyone else is told to put up with it, but anyone who does it to you is given a warning first and a bullet second

Like he absolutely knows how to manipulate and mindfuck people. Poor Reader is so scared and alone and needing support and he's in the position to make your life significantly easier. Can you imagine if you've worked for him a few months and you kind of comment that you don't have much money for anything besides rent, and he tells you, you know what, why doesn't he bump that number down, since you've proven yourself to be so nice and trustworthy and you've also been such a good little groupie for him? Like just like that? And sure, the reality is he was privately overcharging you what the room was worth anyways, but it doesn't change the absolute relief you feel. He starts being nice to you and you fall into the trap of "well, yeah sure he's a pimp, but, I never see any of that, and he's nice to me, and I have to take what I can get"

I'm still an absolute fiend for the idea of "customer really scares the shit out of you and maybe even tries to hurt you and Val uses the moment to his advantage". Like since you just wait on a small area of people, mostly exclusively Valentino, maybe you have a lot of free time or do other tasks, so imagine someone tells you to take the trash out, ignoring your protests that going out by yourself isn't really safe, and sure enough, a customer who's been coming on to you is waiting outside and you just barely get away from him after he tries to grab you. Another shift, and he's in the club, waiting for you by the bathrooms. This guy is stalking you, telling you to stop playing hard to get, maybe he even grabs you so hard he leaves a bruise. And you don't tell Val because you've heard certain other stories about, "well if you aren't one of his favorites, he doesn't care as long as you can keep making money" so there you are, pouring Valentino another refill and he turns his head when he sees your hands are just SHAKING, and he reaches out to tilt your chin up and ask, "what happened?" and you start to smile and act like it's fine but you just burst into tears because this guy is literally threatening shit like fucking you with a knife, and you roll up your sleeve to show the Overlord the big dark bruise where you were grabbed

Like you've been trying to keep to yourself and really not even talk to Val because you know he's still pretty scary and he knows you as this kind of shy quiet little cutie he has t had the time to start giving his full attention to and now you're just big boo hoo blubbering tears, "I'm really scared Mister Valentino"

And to top off the favorite part of the idea, obviously I can see this scenario happening a few different ways, but imagine after you breakdown and tell Val a few details, you just run off because you're crying and feeling humiliated and you're thinking he doesn't care so you just feel stupid and weak, and THIS is when your stalker appears again, and Val rocks up with that hot pink gun of his when he decides, "hey my lil shorty has been gone too long" and he walks in on this guy trying to rip your clothes off, strangle you, or both. And of course you run up to the Overlord just trembling and clutching at him and hiding behind him because he's huge and scary and of course, Valentino certainly doesn't mind how you're clinging to him. And before you know it, he's got you sitting next to him on his sofa, sidled right up besides him, you being very much EAGER to cuddle with him like this since you know, or at least terrified enough to be convinced, that no one is going to bother you while you're with the Overlord.

And of course, it's a week later, and he still wants you to cuddle up to him again, and again, and again, and eventually you realize, "oh wait, he's no longer actually giving me a choice in the matter, I'm just straight up like his new girlfriend" and by that point he's already making plans to get you all fixed up at the salon with him and take you to his stylist to get you a little red jacket like what he has Angel wear sometimes and, you know just #possessivepimpthings where he officially begins to transition you into his propery

Tbh I'm starting to become like obsessed with the idea of him quite literally taking you everywhere to the point its virtually 24/7 and you're living in his house and sleeping in his bed and BATHING WITH HIM because he's treating you like a partner/pet and controls every aspect of your life down to the shampoo you use and your skincare routine, but that's a story for another time 👀

[trans-corvo]

things I'm going to do when I'm finally done school and am settled into a job (be it in academia, an archive, or the produce department) and have some money saved.

Get a nice, small apartment of my own if in the city, or maybe a mobile home if I'm somewhere rural. Somewhere I can stay for the long term and get real comfortable in. With art prints on the wall and a ton of book shelves

Get dental implants for the 4 teeth I had to get pulled because depression ruins everything. Actually just getting my teeth fixed in general

Solo road trip down to LA through the Rockies, and then back up the coast. Taking my sweet time and stopping to swim in every body of water I pass.

Take up sewing (no space and no time rn)

See central/eastern Europe. Berlin, Budapest, the Croatian coast, Istanbul. Need to brush up on a few languages for that first, I don't like the idea of traveling too many places where I can't speak at least the basics. I'm taking German classes right now, but I also want to get some basic Hungarian for school.

Actually, on that note, I really want to just keep learning new languages. I had a terrible time in french immersion when I was a kid but I'm genuinely having so much fun learning german at the moment. I think the second language might be the hardest to learn, because a ton of the shit that threw me through a loop with french feels really obvious now.

and if I end of somewhere even remotely rural: get chickens.

[flawedamythyst]

For the AU ask game -- Western Winterhawk!

Well, my immediate reaction is that @drgrlfriend has already written the ultimate western AU Freedom's Reach so I don't need to but two cakes, I guess.

SO a rancher hires a team to take a lot of cows across the West from somewhere to somewhere else, which is going to take a few weeks. Clint and Bucky are both on the team, along with, idk, probably Steve and Sam. Tony seems unlikely but maybe Natasha? And then a bad guy, let's say Rumlow for this one. He's the guy in charge.

It's miserable hard work and they're all coated in dirt and smelling like cows within hours, but apart from that it's all going fine, they're having companionable campfires in the evening and Clint and Bucky are making eyes at each other, casually flirting, all that.

Except PLOT TWIST Bucky and Steve are actually sheriffs who are undercover because they're herding the cows through an area where a gang of outlaws operates, let's call them Hydra. Not sure that's the most historically realistic name for a bunch of Western bandits but screw it. Bucky and Steve got wind that the outlaws had been tipped off that the cows were being herded their way, and that Rumlow is also transporting something smaller and more valuable with the cows as a bit of a front. Uh, let's say a case of fancy Swiss watches that the rancher's brother imported for him and he's selling to a watchmaker in the town.

Anyway, Bucky can't get completely close to Clint in case he gives himself away, and also he and Steve aren't sure who amongst the cowboys is leaking info to the bandits, so there's a bunch of pining and Clint wondering why this isn't happening when Bucky is so clearly into him, and Bucky lamenting to Steve that he has to be Professional about all this no matter how sexy Clint is etc etc.

They get to the bandit country, all of them on high alert as they sneak through the mountain pass but OH NO there's an ambush, the bandits come riding down and attempt to murder everyone and steal the cows and the money. Bucky and Steve are ready for them and there's a firefight. Clint helps them with his bow, and they hold the bandits off long enough for the others to escape with the cows (man I am glad I don't have to write a fight scene that involves having to rescue a herd of cows).

Except SHOCK Rumlow is the bandits' inside guy, he attempts to take out Bucky from behind, Clint saves his life but gets a little bit shot in the process. Steve shoots Rumlow, Bucky grabs Clint, and they ride off after the others and the cows leaving Rumlow for dead. They also manage to keep hold of the case that the watches are in.

When they stop to regroup, Sam fixes Clint up then he and Bucky have a touchingly romantic moment and end up kissing. Happy moment of joyful romance.

They only have a few more days until they get to where they need to take the cows so they keep going, as fast as a bunch of cows can, looking over their shoulders, but don't encounter any other issues. Clint and Bucky cuddle at night (no sex, not when they're surrounded by cows, haven't washed in weeks and Clint just got shot) and they chat about what their future might look like.

They get to town, deliver the cows to whoever was meant to be taking them, then head into the town for a night in an inn, a hot bath and, oh yeah, to deliver the watches.

Except they get to the watch shop, walk in, and are immediately surrounded by Hydra guys and Rumlow, who is apparently less dead than everyone hoped. He takes the watches from them and hands the case to the watchmaker, who is Zola, and he opens up a secret compartment in the case to reveal a shit ton of gold. The rancher, who is Pierce, of course, is paying someone in government off so a railroad route goes through his land and a station is put in, which will create a town where he is the sole landowner. He intends to turn into a sort of cult town, bring in all the little Nazi bastards until they have enough to dominate politics in the county/state and yes I am aware that actual Nazis would be anachronistic but you get the gist. He's trying to build a community of arseholes.

Rumlow announces he's going to kill Bucky, Steve & Clint and aims his gun at Clint. This time Bucky saves his life, there's a big fight scene and the good guys come out on top. It would be super dramatic and engaging in the actual fic.

Rumlow finally dies, Hydra get taken out, Zola is taken into custody, and Steve takes the watches and gold as evidence so the government guy can be arrested for bribery. Clint and Bucky ride off into the sunset towards their happy ever after. At some point after they've had a bath, they fuck.

[dzpenumbra]

2/26/23

I didn't get a lot of sleep today. I woke up early. I think I had intense dreams, again, don't remember. I got up and was going to pass out in the comfy chair, but just decided to stay up.

I finally got a bookcase. It was delivered yesterday. I spent a big chunk of the day putting it together, and fixing up the old table I got from my brother and sister in law. So... for the first time since my move-in in mid December... I started to unpack my stuff.

For years and years, I lived in my old house with stuff still in boxes in the living room. Like... 80% of my possessions just sitting in cardboard boxes in my living room. I had 3 empty closets and tons of space to put stuff. And I just... I couldn't figure out why my house was so messy! And I couldn't figure out the subconscious logic behind the boxes.

Now... it's starting to make more sense. As I finally make deliberate different choices, the contrast is starting to make sense. I'm making this place my home. I'm settling in.

The irony? The bookcase that my mom got me is designed to be foldable... so that it's easier for me... when I inevitably move. Like... even she is subconsciously aware of this, and hasn't connected the dots on why all my shit has been in boxes for years.

Why would I unpack? I might have to leave overnight. I might get my financial funding pulled. I might get evicted. I might <insert PTSD disaster scenario here>.

I remember back in like... 2016? 2017? My former best friend and her husband were like... showing off their bug-out bags to me, and talking about how they were like... because of the "tension with China"? or something? Ready to dip out in a moment's notice. Well... I mean, they'd be able to dip out for like... a few days... The rest of their stuff would be fucked if they left it.

But me? The majority of my precious possessions would just need to have the box they're stored in taped shut and put in a vehicle. My entire house is a bug-out bag. XD And it has been for a very long time. Ever since I moved off my parents property.

I came back from college and moved into my parents' property, above a 2-car garage. I actually moved in there, I made it a home and everything. When my ex and I "decided" to live together... aka when I decided to move... I wanted to make that a home as well. I tried to. But I wanted to make it a home with her. Together. But she was... obsessed with "work". Obsessed with making money. Obsessed with being "productive". Obsessed with paying off these mysterious debts that she never talked about, never showed me, never... oh boy... big red flags there, eh? Well, you know... you try to be nice and not pry when people seem really anxious and insecure and uncomfortable... and they just really take advantage of that, don't they? Yikes.

So... I got her a job. Through family connections. A great job, at a cool place. And she spent all her time there, and like no time with me. And when she got home, she'd just go in the spare room that was supposed to be my art studio... but became reserved for her second work-from-home job. And she'd just go work a shift there. And I'd take care of the dogs, and cook dinner, and play games and watch TV. And we'd just like... never really do shit together. We would play games sometimes - Diablo 3, Minecraft, League of Legends, Starbound, Starcraft 2 - I taught her from scratch, she got pretty good. But she would get frustrated and just drop it after a while. Work always took center stage. Despite rent being completely covered for her. Despite all her bills being taken care of. Despite never discussing a plan and refusing to discuss budgeting. Despite me giving her basically all of my savings to help her pay off her debts.

I know that in the future, if I see that, I need to be more suspicious. It feels unkind to do so, and I really don't know how to be... careful? Self-protective? In a way that is respectful. In the sense that... I err waaaaaay too far onto the side of self-sacrificing, yielding, etc. Giving way too much benefit of the doubt. But I'm not going to crack that nut tonight.

Because of this massive rift she was creating, how busy she was intentionally keeping herself, we had less and less in common, less and less shared. That, combined with her odd paradoxical obsessions with wanting to stay in a relationship with me, but being obsessed with the concept of "independence"... she ended up enslaving herself. And blaming me.

I didn't deserve the blame. I was just trying to create a home. A life. A shared home. A shared life. (again, a goal that... apparently... due to her obsession with independence... she did not share and did not disclose.) I put the development of that home on hold until she was ready to participate. And the place was cavernously empty for like 2-3 years. Because I was just... waiting. Waiting for her to make up her mind. She started to rent her own apartment on the side, while "living" in my house. We would fight regularly and she would retreat to her apartment. That went on for months. If only I had a good friend to like... sit down and tell me that was... really not normal. And that what she was doing behind the scenes... was not worth giving her dozens of second chances for. That I deserved much better.

All the while, the majority of my possessions were being stored above my parents' garage, still waiting to be moved in. And... my mom started renovating it. And she told me to get my stuff out of there, but I didn't really have a place to put it. I didn't want the clutter in the main room to upset my ex or make the place feel like... like it wasn't a home. I didn't want to store my stuff in "our" empty, unused studio space, which eventually just turned into... her spare bedroom while we were mildly fighting. Barren, dark and haunted when she retreated to her apartment when the fights got bigger.

After the breakup, and a long mourning period because this breakup synced up with some very tragic deaths, I reclaimed my possessions from my above parents' garage. That's where the boxes came from. The dreaded boxes. That's when the boxes started.

A lot of my possessions were covered in a coat of drywall dust. Splattered with paint and stuff. It... sucked. It hurt. Like... my college degree was damaged in that process. Whatever an art degree from a state college is worth in fucking 2023. And it hurt a lot. And I blamed myself. I didn't really feel like I had a choice, and it wasn't my fault, I was the victim there... but... I blamed myself. I salvaged what I could, which was a lot. But I left a lot of it there, and I wouldn't be too surprised if it was just kinda gone now. Things with my family were... shockingly horrible at that period in time. Surreally transforming. I think it was mostly because of my older brother getting married, big life transition growing pain kinda stuff. People don't tend to really understand that even big good things can also be traumatic, it's all in how it's processed and what it does to you. And I really think that's what was going on there, and no one really knew what was going on? Why they were so upset and the world was really threatening all of a sudden? (spoiler: it was big change) And I, the middle child, the black sheep, the weird dude with tattoos and camo pants and a Parkway Drive wifebeater with a peace sign on it, barefoot with stupid cheap sunglasses and a short mohawk... I'm an easy target. I'm a skateboarder. It's really fucking easy to have your boss treat you like shit and just take it, have someone cut you off in traffic and just take it, have a cop give you a stupid ticket for no reason and just take it, and then find a skateboarder skating in your parking spot and scream at them for 20 minutes about how they're going to hurt someone and "that's fucking illegal!"

I wish I wasn't used to it.

ANYWHO. Big can of worms there we're not getting into tonight... XD

So, the boxes that I brought back from my old place, from above my parents' garage, that had been there for like... a year or so already? They stayed on the floor of my main room in my old house for... 3 years? Give or take? Maybe 4? Early Summer 2019 to... Winter 2022. 3.5 years, let's go with that, split the difference.

I got a lot of shit for my stuff being there. And... I never unpacked it. I mean, I did with some of it, but like... not all of it. Just what I needed at the time.

My home did not feel like my home. Because it was never intended to be my home. That was never the plan. And I tried to make it my home. Especially during the pandemic, after I got off meds. I turned the old haunted workspace into an art/streaming studio, which was tremendously emotionally difficult and subsequently liberating. I made sure my dog knew very clearly that the futon mattress that my ex used to sleep on in the spare room was 100% hers (my dogs, that is, not my ex...), but I was going to nap on it with her sometimes because I wanted to be close to her. I reclaimed the space. The best I could.

And it was a house. But it was not a home. It wasn't my home. It was someone else's home that I was living in. And they lived on the property. And they were just... biding time until I left. Completely unaware of the severe water damage to the walls from shoddy construction. And I have no idea how they were unaware, because they were literally picking up pieces of rotting wood falling off of the walls when they were mowing the yard. But that, also, is a story for another day.

This apartment. It's... hard to tell what it is to me. Is it a transitional space? Is it... dare I say... home? At least for now?

I had no problem making a space a home for my dog and cat (who I miss so, so dearly every day), I have no problem making a space a home for a partner. Especially if it's a task we do together, building a home together. Good lord, that's an absolute fantasy of mine. I've wanted that for so long. But, apparently, I have a problem making a home for myself.

I have no problem making a home in Rimworld. Or in Minecraft, I've made tons of homes in Minecraft, and they're all very neatly organized and designed really cool and everything. I can actually see them in my head right now! The one I made in a snowy pine biome, the A-frame with the big floor to ceiling glass windows looking out over the valley. The farm house by the beach on the old modded server I played on with my ex-friend from Florida and his dad, with a big Chisels and Bits roof, and a deck looking out over the big corn and cotton and strawberry fields. With the huge sprawling dirt roads that stretched to a small coastal village with a marble train station with Chisels and Bits stained glass windows in it. The beach house I made in my last Valhelsia Vanilla world... then the starter house and the 2-story farmhouse and the massive wheat fields and Create windmill that I expanded to later... on my short lived but long-payed-for 2-player multiplayer server. Fort Saiga, with it's giant hedge maze inside the perimeter of the walls, that I built with my friend who lived in North Carolina back in like... oh good lord... this had to be... 2012? There was even a home that I built into the interior second floor of a gigantic Aztec temple that I built on the multiplayer server where I was a Mod and met my ex-Florida friend. So many homes. I'm not even going to get into Rimworld. I've almost hit 4k hours in that game. Countless homes.

So I can make a home for myself. And I enjoy it. But... I don't.

Because life is not secure for me. It's not predictable, it's not safe. I might have to pack all my shit and move in a week. My life has just... been that. That's my best guess. That's the closest I can get to unraveling this mystery right now. And I'm sure... like the mystery of my ex hiding her expenses and normalizing renting an apartment while in a live-in relationship... in about 5 years time I'm going to look back on this and see it clear as day. So here's a message to Future Me. Hi. You're kinda lucky. It's pretty spooky to be in this place. Not really knowing why shit is happening, big blank spots where there should be answers. Having all the data in front of you and not being able to piece it together.

I guess that's just... life. Right? Like... that's the point of learning, right? XD I mean, it's so damn simple but I don't think people really think about it. I hear shit like that a lot. "I don't know how to play guitar, so I'm never going to learn how to play guitar." What?! XD That's literally how learning works. I mean... no one can just... Matrix jack download information directly into their brain, it just doesn't work like that. Even if you could, you would lack context. That information would sound like gibberish, you wouldn't have the hands-on experience to apply it!

I fixed a piece of furniture today. I was warned that the legs of this table were wobbly, and the drawers were sticky. They were not wrong. I made the error of attacking this problem first, then assembling the bookshelf second, which was an error because... I didn't have a hex wrench. I always lose them. And the bookcase had one in it the whole time. Apparently people are just using the most annoying, easy to lose tool on the planet as the standard hardware now... I mean, it makes sense, it's a good design, lots of leverage, less risk of stripping screws, I get it... but hex wrenches hurt the hell out of my hands and I lose more of them than I do socks. Just sayin.

My point here is that I flipped this table over and studied the parts. Legs attached by screws with a washer and a metal ring, for spacing I guess? A wood corner piece that it screws through to hold the leg in place, on all four corners. Hex screws on all of them. So I took the legs off, checked the metal sockets on the legs to make sure they weren't loose or wobbly, seemed legit, and then screwed it back in and used pliers to get them firmly tight. That's where the hex wrench would've come in handy... Then I removed the drawers, studied the construction. Basically a piece of wood tacked to the bottom with a slot in it, and the corresponding puzzle piece attached to the table itself. I inspected the inside of this lock and key kinda mechanism and saw a lot of... some kind of residue built up. Could be anything really. So I spent a good amount of time getting sandpaper in there and just... sanding and wiping the gunk out of it. The best I could. The part attached to the table itself was easier than cleaning out the slot, but I did a pretty good job. Then I just put them back in, made sure they were aligned right and... ta-da. Not really good as new... if I actually manufactured new wooden parts for it, I would absolutely say so... but... much improved! Very stable, the drawers slide fine, don't stick.

All it took was an inquisitive mind. And a willingness to make mistakes. And to learn from, and fix those mistakes. That's all. And I learned a lot today about that, I feel much more capable of taking on other furniture projects now. Assembling the bookshelf after that felt like putting together legos compared to troubleshooting something without a manual or instructions. You know? It's a completely different experience, a different way of using your brain.

So... I guess I'm kinda hinting at... well, kinda more than hinting at, I'm kinda just saying... Maybe it's okay for me to not fully know what the deal with the boxes and making big messes everywhere is about. I'll find out in time. That doesn't mean... stop looking. That doesn't mean "never learn guitar". That doesn't mean "I'm a messy person, so fucking deal with it." It means... I don't know now because I lack that perspective. But I might in the near future. And it might teach me a lot about how to improve my life even more. It might just be a blind spot for me.

That said, I think I started to open the door on that realization today. And the ironic part, I had a live stream on most of the day of this pair of bald eagles nesting in California. Here, I'll share the link, I've been visiting a bit.

As I was sorting my stuff, putting some in storage, putting others in a more... accessible, intentional space on a bookshelf... I was kept company by a family, in their home, with their expected children. It was heartwarming, and I think encouraging.

I got a lot done, about half of the main room is in much better shape. My work space is coming up next. And my new computer desk should be arriving soon to herald that next phase of home development. My whole computer and work space is shared right now, and it's incredibly cramped. The new desk will be wonderful for computer and music stuff, writing and maybe even some drawing. Then art projects will happen on my drafting table. For now... until I can get a table that's a bit more sturdy, that ideally has a pegboard or built in tool storage included.

Until then? I'm going to have a massive pile of art supplies and tools just chillin on the floor within a reasonable arm's reach. Which... if you've ever met me in the wild - which you haven't because I'm a hermit... but... let's just use our imaginations here - is kinda just my natural state of being.

Hey, check that out, I don't even have to reset the vibes at the end of this. :) It's been a while! Have a good night!

[somelazyassartist]

Considering making the move to just stop using Etsy altogether and just make my own website to sell things, but I'm not sure it's a very good idea with how small my shop is...... Vent under cut bc I'm just kinda stressed out about the general state of things in life rn but the shop thing is just stressing me out the most in this specific current moment.

So like, Etsy's really nice for organization and management, and you get a way larger audience because people can find you through searches, and they don't take fees away from you until you've made a sale which is all good for me as a small creator, but. I am sooooooo sick of the stupid content policies that ban a good chunk of my queer art as NSFW when it's not (and you know what? Maybe I wanna make outright NSFW art too!! I'm ace but drawing bodies and characters interacting like that and stuff is just fun for me!! I think it's neat and interesting to express artistically and also I think being horny is fine and cool!! But every fuckin place I could've made a living off that is banning it and my SFW queer stuff too and I'm just so sick of it).

I just want to finally make my own place where I can sell my normal art AND my horny fagdyke weirdo art, instead of "oh you can find my merch on this site but my art on this site and my writing on this site and my NSFW on this site blah blah blah" I'm SICK OF IT I just want one place I don't have to fucking redirect everybody to a million places because their content policies are all over the fucking place!!!!! The only thing is that I'm broke as shit because I'm disabled and this is my only way to work currently, and the place I was looking at making a website on (bc I know an artist I like a lot sells NSFW stuff through there) costs like $15 a month, which is a lot to me!!!

I'm trying to get a fuck ton of old inventory out of my house because I can't afford to get much new stuff for my shop without those funds, but my shop generally only gets traffic when I add new items to said shop, so when I get to that point where I can't afford to get new shit all my activity just plummets completely, and if I can barely keep up with purchasing new inventory how am I gonna purchase new inventory AND pay $15 a month just to run the damn site???? Plus I just have other things I need to spend money on like medical supplies and funds to help my gf move and my monthly credit card payments and it's just like!!! I am not that bad off currently and I am fine and I am not in debt and I can mostly handle it but it is stressful is all!!!!

I kinda wanna just like. Do a massive fucking "leaving Etsy" sale and slash all the prices down WAY lower than usual to try to get some of the old stuff out and save up money to put up my own new site with new merch and hopefully redirect traffic there afterwards, but also I know logically that's a horribly impulsive move to make and would probably land me in a worse spot than ever without the proper planning to do something like that. But oh my god it's tempting right now.

[lolaskmeanything]

WARNING: This will make no sense. Gotta just go with it.

I'm such a whiny little bitch but hey!

I am sitting in my room thinking about how I need to save a ton of money and how I need to create a better healthier routine. My life I keep is all about my dumb ass job that I hate more than anything in my life, and mental health. My mental health has actually been atrocious and I have been too because I dint have the right to whine about it and not seek help to fix my issues.

He hasn't been mentioned in god knows how long, but Louis and I might be going on a trip together? Weirder things I don't think have happened. I gotta make sure I have enough money to do it. After that trip I am frugal Franny!!!!

Part of my weekend routine plans I want is to go to a personal fav park of mine and read. Call me lame, but I just love the idea of it. The only issue is every time I'd go, I'd have to spend $18. I need to factor in loans and shit (truth be told I haven't been paying them...I don't have the money to pay them honestly.). My mind is kind of saying, what is $18 in the grand scheme of things? Is it so crazy I wanna have my little moment of reading Lolita in the park? Trust me, I know the choice of book is super fucking weird. Have a little reading moment, and get a drink and some lunch while I get some shit done online or something. The imagine in my head is everything I wanna be.

I also want to get more into working out. Just the dumb little workout routine I used to do. It actually gave me an ass and somehow I even had some tits! HA!

I also want to kill my skincare. It's such a good routine and my skin screams healthy and clear.

This summer is gonna be amazing. I am going to make it amazing. It is the summer of healthy happy fun social me. I want so badly to just get my life on track and together and it hurts my own feelings that I have to will power to just make myself do it. Part of me thinks it is the weed, but since I'm addicted, I choose to ignore that. Or maybe, just maybe, I'm a lazy cunt who should just chill and man up and get it done. My inner voice is really screaming things at me and I'm just trying to write them here as fast as I can.

Summer of: GETTING BACK TO HAPPY AND FUN.

Summer of: FINDING MYSELF

Summer of: CREATING MEMORIES